Chapter Nine.
Archy has a mask to protect his eyes from snow-blindness, from which all the rest suffer.—He leads them by a string, when an Esquimaux is discovered searching for seals, who builds an igloo, and melting some snow, bathes the blind men’s eyes, and provides for them.
Four human beings with heavy packs on their backs were making their toilsome way over the snow-covered surface of the frozen sea. One by one their companions had dropped. They had reached the wished for shore, but lofty ice-cliffs rose before them on which they had found it hopeless to seek for shelter of subsistence, and again they were attempting to make their way to the southward. First the boat which they had dragged over so many leagues had been consumed for fuel, and then the sledge was piece by piece burned to give them warmth in their snow-hut during the night. Archy had held out bravely; Andrew had wonderfully been supported, ever with confidence seeking for aid from above, he felt that his own life and that of his companions depended on his exertions. Foubister and David Saunders, one of the crew of the “Kate,” encouraged by him had hitherto kept up their spirits, yet as they looked ahead and saw the icy plain stretched out before them they might well have given way to despair. They had just set out from the snow-hut which had sheltered them during the night, and in which the last chip of the sledge had been consumed. As the embers of their fire died out, Foubister, brave and determined man as he was, had exclaimed, “Why need we go further? It will only be to perish in a few hours of cold, as the rest have done.”
“Because it is our duty to trust to God and struggle to the last,” answered Andrew. “He may send us help when we least expect it. Let us go on while life and strength remain.”
Kneeling down, Andrew offered up an earnest prayer for protection, and the whole party then strapping on their packs, with renewed strength set forward on their journey. Archy would probably have sunk under the hardships he was enduring had not his old friend supported and cheered him throughout. His other companions were also constant in their kindness. They gave him a larger supply of food than they took themselves, and chafed his feet and dried his socks at the end of each day’s journey. They had also made him a mask to protect his face, of a piece of canvas lined with woollen stuff, having breathing places in it for the nostrils and mouth, and two holes as small as possible for the eyes. He was surprised to find when he put it on how well he could see through those small holes. Neither he nor his friends were aware at the time of their importance.
They had started before daylight, for the sky was clear and the moon and stars afforded them ample light to see their way. The sun at length rose above the horizon, and cast his brilliant rays over the sheet of snow. All the three men had, on the previous day, complained of a peculiar smarting of the eyes, but little did they think at the time of what it portended. As they proceeded the smarting sensation increased, till at length David Saunders began to stumble, and exclaimed that all was dark. His words struck dismay into the hearts of his companions, for both Andrew and Foubister had for some time found a difficulty in seeing objects before them, and in a short time the latter cried out that he too was blind. It would have been certain death to stop, so, although Andrew himself was suffering intense pain, he urged his companions to proceed, hoping still that they might discover some Esquimaux’ huts on the shore, or find other means of preserving their lives.
“And how do your eyes feel, Archy?” asked Andrew, in a voice which showed his anxiety.
“I have no pain, and can see as well as ever,” answered Archy.
“Thank God,” replied Andrew. “You must then be our guide, for I too have lost my sight.” Archy on hearing this felt ready to burst into tears.