“Go below, my boy,” he said; “and get something hot and turn in. You’ve had trouble enough for one night.”
The great boatswain went forward, holding the bird in one hand and now and then slapping his great leg with the other, and letting forth a roar of amazed laughter.
“A goose,” he said; “a Yukon goose! Went overboard and came back and brought a Yukon goose! Well, the young feller is a seven-time winner. Bet ye we’ll raise whales this trip, all right.” He went forward to the galley, where he left his game, and then went back on watch.
As light grew through the chaos of struggling mist, the cry of “Land ho!” rang out from the lookout, and the ship rounded to so near dark cliffs that stretched upward into the mists out of sight that she was fairly in the wash of the great waves that thundered at their base. A moment after, ice barred their farther way on the other tack, and a great floe moved majestically along, bearing them down toward the cliffs. To lie to was to be carried in and crushed between ice and rocks, and Captain Nickerson, who was on deck, wisely guessing that it must be one of the Diomedes, wore ship and ran before the gale, coasting within sight of the great rock barrier. A half hour afterward he rounded to and swung close up under the lee of the towering northeast cliff of the big Diomede; so close to its sheer lift that one could almost throw a line ashore.
Here was level water indeed, and they were safe from the northward driven ice-floes, which would split on the island’s prow and sail by to port and starboard; but they did not escape the wind, which came over the heights in tremendous “willie-waus,” blowing, as the sailors say, “up and down like the Irishman’s hurricane.” This seems to be a peculiarity of the Arctic gale. It comes tearing over the great heights, plunges down the steep face of the cliffs, and striking the water at their base with tremendous velocity, sends it whirling out to sea in great masses of spoondrift that sail along the surface as blown snow does in winter.
Two days more the ship lay head to the cliff, swinging to two anchors, then the mists blew away, the wind went down rapidly, and the sun shone brightly on lofty granite heights. Halfway up was a little space of level ground like a shelf set in a corner of rock, and out of holes in this green level came stubby fur-clad men and women, who swarmed down the cliff by paths of their own and launched umiaks from a sheltered little hidden cove, putting out to the ship.
HOME OF “THE LITTLE MEN” OFF THE DIOMEDES
Harry was none the worse for his sudden plunge overboard a few days before. Instead of the weakness and lassitude which had followed his April upset in the Fore River, there came an immediate reaction, and he declared a few hours afterward that it had done him good; he would do it every day, if he could be sure of getting back to the ship so handily. The Arctic air was already working wonders in him. The experienced seamen shook their heads at this. They knew well that his chance had been one in a thousand, and Captain Nickerson rated him soundly for being so careless as to let a sea catch him that way.
The little men had much walrus ivory, but not much else that was of value to the ship, and their trading did not last long. They did have many curios, and Harry had an opportunity to buy some of these with the “trade goods” he had brought from Seattle for the purpose. By Captain Nickerson’s advice he had laid in a few dollars’ worth of rubber balls, huge beads, little mirrors, harmonicas, and trinkets, and he now found these very useful. He bought with them many walrus teeth; the back teeth, which are as large as one’s thumb, carved in grotesque but life-like shape of seals, bear, walrus, and other animals. Two bargains which he made are noteworthy as showing the ways of the little people in trading. One of these was for an exquisite pair of little shoes, soled with walrus hide crimped up into miniature boots, topped with the softest of fur from the reindeer fawn, and with a bright edging of scarlet cloth. They were most skillfully fashioned, and tasteful, for the Eskimo is a born artist, and were brought aboard by a young woman who apparently was very proud of them, and wished rather to exhibit than to sell them.