Under the Sea to the North Pole (4 page)

As they were going through the house which had been built and furnished in less than forty-eight hours, the chemist Schnecker, who had been examining everything with the greatest attention, suddenly exclaimed in surprise,—

“Ah, my dear sir, there is something which might have been thought of.”

“What is that?” asked De Keralio.

“How about the fire-places? They are not only not designed to give enough heat, but where are you going to get the gas for them?”

Before De Keralio could reply, Hubert struck in.

“Sir,” said he with a laugh, “please to remember that if we wish to produce gas in the ordinary sense of the word, that is to say, bicarburetted hydrogen, the thing would not be impossible, for there ought not to be any want of coal seams in the neighbourhood. Nares and Greely found them ready to hand at Port Discovery on the coast of Grinnell Land. But you may say it would be easier for us to burn the coal itself, and you will see that this reply has been foreseen, and that the fire-places are designed to serve more purposes than one.”

And so saying, Hubert took hold of a sort of handle at the side of one of the fire-places, and turned the receptacle completely over; the sheet of shining copper at the bottom disappeared and gave place to a regular grate for coke or coals.

Schnecker opened his big eyes.

“That is a good fire-place, certainly; but all the same, I am surprised that the gas-burning arrangement is there, if there is to be no use for it.”

”I did not say that,” said Hubert.

“Then I do not understand. Where are your pipes and your gasometers, your condensers and your retorts? Where are you going to get the heat necessary for the distillation of the carburet?”

“Bah!” replied the young man, “we will find it. And allow me to be surprised in my turn that a chemist like you should require to use such cumbrous apparatus, which would be quite useless for travellers as we are.”

“Useless!” exclaimed the Alsacian. “Would you have me believe that you can get heat without employing the usual methods of modern industry?”

D’Ermont put his hand on his questioner’s arm.

“I do not try to make you believe it, but to show it you quite simply. There is gas and gas. I have only to get a source of heat ten times, twenty times, a hundred times superior to those of modern industry to realize the miracle you would deny.”

The chemist shook his head.

“ I do not deny it—I doubt it. That is another thing.”

And as he said it, he frowned, and gave the lieutenant an evil look from the corner of his eye.

Isabelle noticed this look, but made no sign of the impression it had on her, contenting herself with keeping a more careful watch on this suspicious companion. At the same time, she remembered that on the
Polar Star,
Hubert had knitted his brows at Schnecker’s name, and in some way communicated his dislike of the chemist to the faithful Salvator.

“Scientific rivalry,” she said, “that is all it is between them.”

And as Isabelle was the most trusting, the most generous of girls she did not allow her thoughts to dwell longer on the second incident than she had on the first.

They were soon to recognize the advantages of the house scientifically constructed by De Keralio and Doctor c pi-van. Owing to the absence of trees, the concluding period of the polar summer was, in these latitudes, remarkably warm. The temperature reached sixteen degrees centigrade, and proved almost insupportable to the travellers, who feared it might rise higher. These days of inaction were devoted to hunting and fishing, and in both Isabelle took her share. It was the only recreation possible, and it was desirable to add to the stock of provisions. The duration of their stay in these desolate lands could not be foreseen, and it was as well to lay in a large quantity of fresh victuals. There was abundance of game, chiefly feathered .game. Guerbraz, the best shot of the party, killed, during one morning, two dozen eider ducks. They knocked over in scores, or took in the nets, ptarmigan or polar partridges, black-throated divers, dovekies, a kind of pigeon or rather gull, with oily but succulent flesh.

During the morning of the fifth day after they had taken up their quarters at Fort Esperance, Guerbraz ran into the station out of breath, and answered in gasps to Hubert’s eager questions,—

“Cattle! Two miles to the north.” Isabelle heard him.

“Cattle!” she exclaimed. “Musk oxen! I am after them!”

For some days now, the girl had been in her shootinp dress. It became her wonderfully, and one could not wish more elegance and grace in a woman in a semi-masculine costume. She wore warm woollen knickerbockers gathered at the knees into leather gaiters, over which fell a short petticoat like that worn by vivandieres. A vest with a broad belt clothed her from waist to neck, and on her charming head was a cap of sable, fitted with ear flaps and a neck piece. A carbine, a masterpiece of precision as of artistic ornamentation, hung from her right shoulder, while from her left hung her bag and cartridge-belt.

Thus equipped, Isabelle hurried out after Hubert and Guerbraz.

As they came out of the house, they met the chemist, Schnecker.

“Where are you running to, like that?” asked the Alsacian.

Hubert replied as laconically as Guerbraz,—

“ Cattle! If you want to come, look sharp.”

The scientist wanted no repetition of the advice. He also rushed into the house to get his gun.

But already Hubert, Isabelle, and Guerbraz were scaling the lower hills, and, hiding behind the heaps of rocks, were approaching the musk oxen as quickly as possible. They were not very numerous, and consisted of a bull, two cows, and two calves. The five beasts were placidly pasturing on the scanty herbage, and showed no alarm at the threatened attack on them.

Suddenly the two hunters and their companion arrived within range and three reports echoed simultaneously. Two of the cows and one of the calves were seen to fall; the bull was also shot, but rose and made off, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

This did not suit Guerbraz, who had hit him in the haunch. Without thinking of the danger, the Breton rushed at full speed after the ox and contrived to cut off his retreat.

Then the scene changed suddenly, and became extremely dramatic.

Guerbraz, an old fisherman of Iceland and Newfoundland and an old Arctic voyager, was endowed with prodigious strength. Already he had taken from his belt a short-handled axe with which he intended to strike the animal on the neck a little lower than the formidable cap made by the large horns, when the bull, renouncing flight, made straight for his assailant, and returned towards him at his fastest.

Guerbraz, carried away by his own eagerness, and, unable to stop on the sloping ground, could not get out of the way. The furious beast met him as he came down the slope. Luckily the shock was not a direct one, but was only a touch on the shoulder, which sent him rolling on the rocky ground.

But the bull, after passing the sailor some thirty yards, pulled up and returned to stamp on him, or to butt him with his horns. Guerbraz, stunned by his fall, could not get out of the way.

Suddenly there was another report and the
ovibos
fell dead at the sailor’s feet.

Isabelle ran up, her gun smoking; Guerbraz seized her hand and kissed it piously.

“You have saved my life, mademoiselle,” he exclaimed. “I must have my revenge. A life for a life.”

Isabelle could hardly speak for want of breath. And besides, the incident was followed by another as a pendant.

There was a fifth report, and Hubert, who was just reaching his companions, felt the wind of a bullet at less than a foot from his face. Turning quickly, he discovered Schnecker about sixty yards behind. He it was who had just fired.

“You are a bad ,shot, sir!” exclaimed the lieutenant, in a tone in which anger and contemptuous irony were only too apparent.

CHAPTER III

THE ANTE-CHAMBER OF THE POLE.

T
HE three chief witnesses of the drama were silent as to this last episode in a singularly exciting adventure. But Isabelle, who was much impressed by it, saw Hubert and Guerbraz exchange looks.

The two men had known each other for many years. Guerbraz, although older than Hubert, had been at sea under him when he was a midshipman. It was evident that their companion’s clumsiness appeared suspicious. Schnecker had fired when there was no reason for it. The Breton’s danger had been ended by Isabelle’s carbine, and the two surviving beasts had time to disappear behind a low hill..

The naturalist, however, advanced, cap in hand, bowing very low, and with his most obsequious smile.

He sought to excuse himself.

“It seems I might have been the cause of a misfortune! Pardon me, pray. I am very short-sighted. I will not use a gun again.”

“Then you will do well, sir!” said the young man, who was not of a very patient nature. And turning his back on the chemist, he quickened his pace so as to return to the station in Isabelle’s company.

Attracted by the reports of the guns, De Keralio was already on the way towards them, as were also Doctor Servan and the five other sailors.

To these was given the task of skinning and cutting up the beasts, so as to leave no time for the flesh to contract the odour of musk which would have made them uneatable. This task was promptly accomplished, and four hundred kilos of fresh meat were taken into store.

On their return to Fort Esperance, Hubert immediately went to his future father-in-law, with the doctor and Guerbraz, in order that they might talk over together the serious occurrence which had just taken place.

The conference was an exciting one. De Keralio, who was very good-natured, could not believe in an act of malevolence. It appeared to him so unlikely.

“I know,” he said, “that our companion is remarkably shortsighted.”

“ Bah!” said Hubert, “when a man is as short-sighted that he does not venture to shoot; and I really do not understand how you can send a bullet within a foot of a man’s face, and take the man for an ox.”

And he added, with that animation which always distinguished him,—

“We shall have to keep our eyes open, or the worthy Schnecker will be taking us all for beasts.”

His companions laughed. But the subject was too serious to be lost sight of so easily. De Keralio could not help exclaiming,—

“But what motive could he have for committing such a crime? We have never done him any harm. None of us has shown the slightest suspicion of him.”

“Pardon!” said Hubert, “there is one who has borne witness against him from the very first day. That is our brave Salvator.”

“Certainly,” said the doctor, seriously, “there is some weight in that argument. I consider the instinct of animals, and particularly

of dogs, infallible.”