Cheenbuk and Oolalik, who were as quick to obey as to command—perhaps quicker—followed their leader’s example. Others followed suit according to their respective natures and capacities. Anteek, bearing a mass nearly as big as himself, also dashed below in wild excitement. Some of the young men tumbled their burdens of snow down the smoking hole and went back for more. Even old Mangivik did that as fast as his rheumatic limbs would let him. Raventik, reckless as usual, sprang down with a mighty lump, but finding the atmosphere below uncongenial, hurled it towards his predecessors, and sprang up again for a fresh supply, watering at the eyes and choking. The poor invalid Ondikik walked as hard as his fast-failing strength would permit. The women even, led by the thoroughly roused Cowlik, bore their share in the work. The children took prompt advantage of the occasion to enjoy by far the wildest game that had ever yet been suggested to their imaginations, and Aglootook the magician, seeing that something had come at last to verify his predictions, stood by the capstan and appointed himself to the command of the upper deck brigade, while the others were battling with the flames below.
The battle was indeed a tough one; for the fire had got a firm hold, not only of the materials already mentioned, but also of a mass of canvas and cordage in what must have been the sail-maker’s department, and the smoke was growing so dense that it was becoming difficult for the firemen to breathe.
“Here! Nazinred, Oolalik, throw the biggest lumps you can lift over there.”
Cheenbuk pointed to what seemed a red-hot spot in the dense smoke before them, and set them the example by heaving a gigantic mass at the same place.
A tremendous hiss came forth as the snow was converted into steam, but there was no abatement in the roar of the devouring element as it licked up everything around it, making the iron bolts red, and, though not themselves combustible, assistants to combustion.
“More snow, Anteek! more snow!” gasped Cheenbuk.
The boy, with a mass of half-melted snow still in his hand, sprang up the ladder, scarce knowing what he did, and appeared on deck, blackened and wildly dishevelled. Aglootook was close to the opening at the moment, giving sententious directions to some little boys. Anteek hurled the snow-mass full at his face with the force of an ardent nature intensified by contempt, and sent him sprawling among the children as he leaped over the side to carry out his orders.
But no energy on the part of Cheenbuk and his comrades, no efforts on the part of their assistants, strong or feeble, could avert that ship’s doom. Ere long the smoke and heat between decks became unbearable, and drove the gallant leaders back, inch by inch, foot by foot, until they were compelled to take refuge on the upper deck, when nothing more could be done to arrest the progress of the flames. They retired therefore to the quarter-deck, where the whole of the Eskimos—men, women, and children—assembled to look on at the destruction which they could not now prevent.
“This is a great loss,” observed Cheenbuk regretfully, as he sat on the after-rail, mopping the perspiration off his blackened face with his sleeve.
“It might have been a greater loss,” said Nazinred, glancing towards the well-filled storehouses on shore.