The World of IceBallantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael)
General
The World of Ice
Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael)
Adventure stories; Arctic regions -- Fiction; Whaling -- Fiction
Gradually his thoughts turned homeward, and he thought of the dear ones
who circled round his own fireside, and perchance talked of him--of the
various companions he had left behind, and the scenes of life and beauty
where he used to wander. But such memories led him irresistibly to the
Far North again; for in all home-scenes the figure of his father started
up, and he was back again in an instant, searching toilsomely among the
floes and icebergs of the Polar Seas. It was the invariable ending of
poor Fred's meditations, and, however successful he might be in
entering for a time into the spirit of fun that characterized most of
the doings of his shipmates, and in following the bent of his own joyous
nature, in the hours of solitude and in the dark night, when no one saw
him, his mind ever reverted to the one engrossing subject, like the
oscillating needle to the Pole.
As he continued to gaze up long and earnestly into the starry sky, his
thoughts began to wander over the past and the present at random, and a
cold shudder warned him that it was time to return to the hut. But the
wandering thoughts and fancies seemed to chain him to the spot, so that
he could not tear himself away. Then a dreamy feeling of rest and
comfort began to steal over his senses, and he thought how pleasant it
would be to lie down and slumber; but he knew that would be dangerous,
so he determined not to do it.
Suddenly he felt himself touched, and heard a voice whispering in his
ear. Then it sounded loud. "Hallo, sir! Mr. Ellice! Wake up, sir! d'ye
hear me?" and he felt himself shaken so violently that his teeth rattled
together. Opening his eyes reluctantly, he found that he was stretched
at full length on the snow, and Joseph West was shaking him by the
shoulder as if he meant to dislocate his arm.
"Hallo, West! is that you? Let me alone, man, I want to sleep." Fred
sank down again instantly: that deadly sleep produced by cold, and from
which those who indulge in it never awaken, was upon him.
"Sleep!" cried West frantically; "you'll die, sir, if you don't rouse
up.--Hallo! Meetuck! O'Riley! help! here.'
"I tell you," murmured Fred faintly, "I want to sleep--only a moment or
two--ah! I see; is the hut finished? Well, well, go, leave me. I'll
follow--in--a--"
His voice died away again, just as Meetuck and O'Riley came running up.
The instant the former saw how matters stood, he raised Fred in his
powerful arms, set him on his feet, and shook him with such vigour that
it seemed as if every bone in his body must be forced out of joint.
"What mane ye by that, ye blubber-bag?" cried the Irishman wrathfully,
doubling his mittened fists and advancing in a threatening manner
towards the Esquimau; but seeing that the savage paid not the least
attention to him, and kept on shaking Fred violently with a
good-humoured smile on his countenance, he wisely desisted from
interfering.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account