“I’ll tell you all about it when we have had some food and rest. Can you give us something to eat?”
“Plenty,” I answered, leading him and Hans into the hut, while Ewen and Croil unharnessed the poor dogs, who looked well-nigh famished. Ewen gave them some bears’ flesh, and they devoured it with a greediness which showed that they had gone long without a meal.
We soon had some slices of meat frying on our stove and some snow melting. After the two weary travellers had eaten, and drank some hot coffee, Sandy gave us the alarming intelligence that he had been unable to reach the camp. On arriving at the edge of the land-ice, what was his dismay to discover a wide gap between it and the field in the midst of which our friends were encamped, and which was in motion drifting southward. Still, hoping that it might again come in contact with the land-ice, he determined to move in the same direction. He caught sight indeed of a flag and what he took to be a portion of the wreck, though at so great a distance that he did not suppose the sound of his rifle, which he fired off, would be heard. No object indeed would have been gained had it been so, as it would have been impossible for one party to communicate with the other. For two days he followed the floe, but the distance between it and the land-ice increased. At length the ice over which he was travelling became so rough that he could proceed no further; he lost sight of the floe and its living freight, and was reluctantly compelled to return for want of food. One of the dogs gave in and it was killed and eaten. The last morsels had been consumed the day before he and Hans reached the hut. Their joy at finding us still there may be imagined, for had we by any chance fallen in with natives and accompanied them to the south, they fully expected to perish.
As soon as the meal was over, the two weary travellers lay down to sleep. Croil imitated their example, while Ewen and I sat up by the light of the lamp, I mending clothes and my friend engaged in preparing a small tub for holding bear’s grease to serve us for fuel. Our conversation naturally took a melancholy turn. The thought that the floe on which were my brother and his companions might be dashed to pieces, and that they would perish miserably, was painful in the extreme. We thought more of them, indeed, than of ourselves, though our position was truly perilous. Our only shelter during the intense cold of an Arctic winter was an ice hut. Hitherto the bears we had shot had afforded us food and fuel; but they might take their departure, and we should then have no other food on which to depend, until the return of spring should enable us to kill walruses and seals. No ships, even in the summer, were likely to penetrate so far north, for few whalers had got so near the pole as the Hardy Norseman had done, and destruction had overtaken her.
“Still I have heard that people have wintered in Nova Zembla and Spitzbergen, even with fewer means of supporting themselves than we possess,” observed Ewen. “We must not despair, Hugh, but trust in God; Sandy’s return to us is greatly to our advantage; for with his harpoon, when our powder is expended, he will be able to kill seals, and furnish us with food.”
“I am thinking of my brother Andrew, and the hopelessness of finding David,” I replied.
“But we do not know that he and the rest of the party are lost, and if your brother David is alive he may still make his escape wherever he may be.”
At last Ewen and I, having trimmed the lamp that it might keep alight, and maintain sufficient warmth in the hut, carefully closed the door and lay down to sleep.
There was no necessity for keeping a watch as was the case on the floe, nor had we the dread of an attack from hostile natives, for no human beings were likely to come near us. We should have been heartily ready to welcome any Esquimaux should they find us out.