In the Misty Seas: A Story of the Sealers of Behring Strait

"Here she is," he said at last. "Four-expansion engines; still that's not what we want. Now we're coming to it. Small displacement vessel for coast-wise service. Depth moulded. Here it is. Draught in seagoing trim!"

Stickine followed the skipper's pointing finger, and then laughed softly as he looked up. "Two feet more than the Champlain, and he's coming in," he said. "Well, he's not going to find it so easy to take her out again. We'll have the haze down thick as a blanket before we're through."

Appleby who heard them understood but little of this, though its meaning became apparent later, and his attention was too occupied for him to wonder much about it just then. The reefs were unpleasantly close to them, and the gunboat coming on, though the vapours that drove past the schooner left very little of her visible. The men were silent, and Donovitch held the wheel, while another Indian stood forward calling out to him.

Ahead the sea frothed horribly, and several times the schooner swung round a trifle as a cloud of spray rushed up from a big, white upheaval. Then a grey rock buried almost in the wash of a sea slid past, and the combers' tops subsided. Only a confused swell heaved behind them, but the stream seemed to be running with them, and the lads surmised that one of the reefs they had passed behind partly sheltered them from the sea. They were sailing through a tortuous strait apparently. The vapours were, however, closing in, and presently they could make out nothing ahead, though they could still occasionally see the masts of the gunboat or her smoke rolling blackly through the fog, while the wind seemed to be freshening, for the deck slanted further as the Champlain tore along. Twice again a rock that rose suddenly out of the grey heave went by, and once a beam of brightness flickered past the schooner and faded in the fog. Jordan laughed as he glanced astern.

"He's not going to see much of anything in about two minutes," he said. "Down topsails, and get the mainsail off her, boys."

It was done, though the lads who helped wondered, for the gunboat was coming on, until it occurred to them that with the little sail she still carried it would be very difficult to distinguish the Champlain in the haze. Once again the blaze that whirled up dimly behind them went past, and then grey and clammy the fog rolled down.

Jordan nodded with evident content. "We've shown that fellow the way in, and that's about all we'll do for nothing, boys," he said. "You'll be handy with your sheets because it's going to take a little contriving to wriggle out of this."

The men stood about with the ropes in their hands, and swung the boom foresail over when Donovitch spoke to them. They did it more than once, hauled the sheets in and let them run again while the schooner apparently twisted like an eel, and here and there a dim line of foam crept by. Once or twice the lads held their breath as they watched it, and they could see that their strained anxiety was shared by the men, for the roar of the surf rose from every side, and it was evident that all the helmsman's nerve was needed to thread that labyrinth of reefs. Indeed, Appleby fancied that nobody but a sealer would ever have attempted that perilous passage. There was no sign of the gunboat now, and he could picture the consternation of her Commander who had, he surmised, no Indian to take him through.

That, however, was the Commander's affair, and did not lessen the lads' anxiety, while now the thrill of the chase had gone they stood expectant and silent among the rest, listening to the clamour of the surf and staring at the sliding fog. At last there was a slackening of the strain, and Niven laughed excitedly while Appleby drew his breath in when Jordan's voice rose up.

"We've clear water before us now, and we'll have the trysail on her," he said. "Then we'll let her come up with staysail to weather. The Commander will be wanting us by and by."

They went about the decks at a floundering run, and the Champlain soon lay almost stationary with her head to the wind. Then they stood still to listen. No unusual sound the lads could catch came out of the vapours, but one of the men fancied he heard the American's cable. The roar of running chain carries a long distance, and Jordan seemed inclined to agree with him.

"That fellow's had 'bout enough, and he'll be feeling kind of sick when he sees his anchor coming home," he said. "We'll give him an hour to find out the fix he's in, and then some of you will go off and talk to him. Boys, there's dollars in the thing."

Most of the men went below, and the lads with them. There was nothing to be done on deck, and it was considerably warmer in the hold, while it was plain that the gunboat had given up the chase. When they sat down under the swinging lamp there was a little bewilderment in some of the faces, and Stickine watched them with a quiet chuckle.

"Ye will be permitted to reshume the intherrogation, Mainsail Haul. There's things one or two av us would like to know," said Donegal.

Niven was not unwilling to avail himself of the opportunity. "Then," he said, "what sort of a place was it we were running through, and what is keeping the American?"

Stickine laughed softly. "The fog and his nerves; but I wouldn't blame the man," he said, placing a can or two upon the floor, and pointing to them.

"Now, you'll see the island's there, and this can is one reef and that one another. More of them yonder. Says you, 'It's a nasty place to crawl through even in clear weather,' but the Indian knows it just as he knows the back of his hand. He was round here for most a year once, before they killed off the sea otter. Still, there's no charts that show these places quite complete, and the American came in because he'd have a man aloft to watch us and another taking bearings each time we swung round. He done it very well. Says he, 'Where that schooner goes there's water enough for me.'"

There was a murmur of somewhat impatient comprehension, for the men at least understood most of this already, and Stickine proceeded, "When we got the mainsail off her he lost us, and I'm figuring he felt kind of sorry for himself. Still, like a sensible man he brings up with his anchor."

"What will he do now?" asked Appleby.

Stickine looked at the rest, and grinned. "First thing, he'll find that anchor's not going to hold him. There's a big stream going through, and it's not the kind of bottom you can get a grip in. Then he'll get his boats out to look for the passage, and when they come back to tell him they've only been finding reefs he'll feel sicker than ever."

"Still, he could stop where he is with his engines just turning to take the weight off the chain until the fog lifted," said Niven.

There was a general chuckle, and Montreal said, "It mightn't lift for a week, and I've known it last a month, while the breeze that shifts it will bring the sea right in."

"Then," said Appleby, "what are we going to do?"

Stickine laughed again. "Wait till the Commander's shaking in his boots, and then get a boat over and go in and assist him. I'm figuring it will pay us better than sealing."

There was grim humour in the faces of the men, and Charley grinned. "It's a head Ned Jordan has," he said.

The lads joined in the laughter, for they could realize that the skipper had with no small ability turned what had looked very like disaster into victory. He had also done no wrong, and was, so far as they could see, justified in exacting some compensation from the men who would in all probability at least have seized all the skins and prevented him sealing any more that season. They had not, however, long to consider the question, for presently Jordan sent for Stickine, and a few minutes later Appleby, to his great delight, was told to help to swing out a boat. He did not ask for any further instructions, and but once she was over the rail sprang down into her, and in a few more minutes the fog was blowing into his face as they drove her lurching over the long swell. It was not, however, very thick, which was possibly fortunate, because they could see the foam upon the reefs before they came too close to them.

Still, the lad found the shadowy dimness that was not night curiously impressive, as he did the reverberations of the seas that swung in smooth, black slopes out of the haze and crumbled into smoke upon the unseen barriers. Now and then the blurred outline of a crag upon the island loomed up and was lost again, while the wind moaned dolefully, though at times it sank awhile and the vapours rolled down upon the sea like a great, grey curtain. At last, however, they made out a light, and the men pulled a trifle faster. More lights blinked at them presently through the haze, and when a hoarse shout came down they stopped pulling close under the side of the gunboat. She swung up and down above them looking very big and black, while now and then when her bows went up there was a horrible grind of cable.

"Boat ahoy!" said somebody. "What are you wanting?"

"A talk with your Commander," said Stickine. "We're sealers from the schooner."

"Pull her in," said the unseen man. "We'll give you a rope."

"That's not going to do for me," said Stickine, with his soft, almost silent laugh. "I want the ladder."

Appleby chuckled, for he could understand how this demand from one of the men he had almost made prisoners of would exasperate the Commander, while he also knew that it takes some time to get a steamer's accommodation ladder over. So far as he could make out by the voices above him, some of the officers were conferring together, and he managed to catch the words, "Concerned insolence!"

"We don't feel like waiting here all night," said Stickine; "unless you get a move on we'll pull away."

"You wouldn't pull far," said somebody. "We've got a quick-firer trained on to you. Now then, up with you!"

"No, sir," said Stickine, grinning. "I'm expecting some show of civility as an officer of the sealer, and if you turned that gun loose on us there'd be nobody to take you out of here."

There was a growl on the deck above them, and somebody said, "Oh, give it him! We want to get through with the thing."

It was probably ten minutes before the ladder was hung over, and leaving one man in the boat the others went up, while Appleby stared about him with interest when he reached the deck. The gunboat looked very big after the Champlain, and even in the haze he could see that she was very trim. Lights blinked about him, there was a simmering of steam, and the long wet deck, tall spars, swaying funnel, spotless paint, and the neatness of everything gave him a sense of security and comfort which he had not been used to on board the schooner. He had, however, little time to look round, for as the sealers stepped in through the gangway a cluster of bluejackets closed in about them, and one of them laid his hand on Stickine's shoulder. The sealer shook his grasp off, and swung round, doubling up a great fist.

"Hello! Are you wanting anything?" he said.

An officer stepped out into the light. "You're under arrest! The Commander is waiting aft," he said.

Appleby was almost surprised into a little gasp of consternation, but he saw that Stickine was smiling dryly and checked it. Then they tramped aft along the deck, and finally stopped outside a cabin in the poop.

"I'll bring the leader in first, sir?" said their conductor.

"That's what I am wanting," said Stickine. "Still, as somebody has got to hear what he has to tell me, this lad's coming along."

He grasped Appleby's arm and shoved him into the cabin, and for a moment or two the lad stood blinking about him. At first, being still a trifle dazzled by the light, he only noticed that the little cabin with its snowy paint, varnished panelling, and curtains on the brass-ringed ports, seemed very luxurious after the hold of the Champlain. Then he saw that a young officer sat at a table, while another stood behind him. His face was not unpleasant, though just then he looked angry, and in his trim uniform he formed a striking contrast to Stickine, who stood, bronzed and lean, in curiously fashioned garments of fur and canvas, smiling at him.

"It's a kind of thick night," said the latter with a little nod. "Now, as I'm going to talk to you neighbourly, I've no use for the boys outside there. Because it wouldn't have been quite square to you as Commander I didn't object to them before."

There was something very like a grin in the face of the officer who still stood in the doorway, and the Commander's cheeks flushed a trifle. Stickine, however, met his gaze with complete unconcern, and finally he raised his hand and a patter of feet on deck showed that the guard was retiring.

"You don't seem to understand that unless you give me a very good reason for not doing it I'm going to take you prisoners to Alaska," he said.

Stickine laughed a little. "Well," he said dryly, "I don't figure you will. In the first place, you can't take us anywhere until you get out of here, and unless you and me agree it's when you try to the trouble will begin. She's not holding with you now, and we'll have it thicker still until the wind piles the sea in to-morrow. When you've got a holt on that we'll go on."

The other officer leaned over the Commander's shoulder, and said something Appleby did not hear. Then the Commander sat silent a while as he watched Stickine. "Well?" he said at last.

Stickine's eyes twinkled a little. "First time you've been up here after the sealers? You don't know us yet. Now, I was wondering when you were going to offer us something to eat and drink."

The Commander stared at him, while the other man, who appeared divided between anger and laughter, turned away his head. Then, as if it were in spite of him, a little smile crept into the former's face.

"Sit down. You deserve anything we can give you for your assurance," he said. "Well, have you any especial fancy?"

Stickine appeared to reflect, "Champagne would be good enough for me," he said. "The last time I had any a Russian officer I did something for gave it me. The lad will have coffee. That is, if the cook has any fire in his galley."

The Commander touched a bell, and the other officer flung himself, laughing, into the chair. "I guess you'll get on with him better that way, sir," he said. "I've had a good deal to do with these fellows, and generally found them difficult to bluff."

In a few minutes a man brought in a big cup of very good coffee, and set some glasses and a box of biscuits upon the table, but while Appleby fell to when the Commander nodded to him, Stickine did not touch his glass.

"Now I'm going to talk," he said. "In the first place, I've shown you where you are. Next, the schooner's waiting outside the reefs, and unless the boat's back inside an hour with a note from me to the skipper he'll get sail on her, and you can take us and your ship to Alaska, if you can get her out of here. To put it quite plain, we've got the best end of the stick, and we know enough to keep a holt on it."

Somewhat, to Appleby's surprise, the Commander laughed. "I almost believe you have," he said.

Stickine nodded, and once more Appleby wondered. A few months earlier it would have appeared incomprehensible to him that a rough schooner sailor should so quietly enforce his right to be treated as an equal by a naval officer, and prove a match for him. The Commander now appeared quite willing to recognize it.

"Well," said Stickine, "we'll take you out to-morrow for – " and he asked a sum that astonished Appleby.

"No, sir," said the Commander. "I'll have the boats over at sun up and find my own way out."

"I guess not," said the sealer. "You've been looking round and coming right upon a fresh reef at every turn already, while there's a sunk ledge in one of the openings, and before you're through you'd have the gale in on you."

The two officers conferred together half-aloud, and finally the Commander said, "I couldn't pay more than half what you're asking."

"Well," said Stickine dryly, "it strikes me it would be a long way cheaper than losing your ship. The dollars would come in quite handy to us but they wouldn't count for very much with the U.S. Treasury."

The Commander drummed on the table with his fingers. "The trouble is I don't know I could send a bill of that kind to the Treasury," he said. "I'm not a rich man, and the dollars would take a good deal of raising if I had to find them myself."

Stickine nodded sympathetically. "Then I'll come down a hundred, but we can't take less. I've got to do the square thing by the boys."

The Commander sat still again, and Appleby could not quite understand the expression of his face. Then he said, "I should be taking a risk. You're not fond of us, anyway, and even you mightn't know all the reefs."

Stickine stood up very straight and grim. "You've just got to trust me, as we'll trust you for the pay. We wouldn't have made that deal with you unless we knew we could put it through."

"Sit down," said the Commander with a little smile. "We'll make it a deal. Take us out, and you'll get your dollars. Put us ashore and we'll shoot you. It's quite plain you're taking a few risks too. And now if you will join me in a glass of wine."

Stickine nodded, and laughed silently as he held up his glass. "I'm taking those dollars from you, as you'd have taken the pelts or the schooner from us, if you had the chance, and that makes us square," he said. "Every man to his own business, but that's no reason he should hate the folks who are now and then too much for him."

Ten minutes later and Appleby and the rest were in the boat pulling for the Champlain with a note asking Jordan to send the Indian across to the steamer.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PLEDGE REDEEMED

The light was slowly creeping through the mist when Appleby, who had returned with two of the Indians, sat with Stickine in the gunboat's cabin. It was very early in the morning, and though there is no actual darkness in those seas at that season, the haze provided a very good substitute, and now it was sliding past as thickly as ever. Appleby also felt clammy all through, for they had had a hard pull from the schooner against a freshening wind, and nobody is very vigorous at four o'clock on a very cold morning. He shivered a little as he sat with a steaming cup of coffee before him watching his companions. Their faces showed curiously pallid in the dim light, and Stickine's was grave, while the two Americans appeared more than a little anxious. Outside the wind was wailing through the rigging, and every now and then there was a jarring grind of cable as the gunboat swung up her bows.

"You believe we had better make a start right now, and you can pick up the passage?" asked the Commander.

Stickine nodded. "The haze is not going to lift to-day, and you'd find it hard work to hold her here when the sea rolls in. There's a nasty reef close astern of you too. Now, before we start we'll go over the deal again and see if you've got it straight. Our skipper has your cheque, and I'm to take you out. You're to take our word we've killed no seals in American waters, and leave us to go just where we're wanting once you're free of the reefs."

"Yes," said the Commander. "I pledge myself to that, but you've overlooked one thing, and that's the one that's going to happen to you if you make a blunder."

There was a moment's silence, and during it the naval officer pulled his belt round a trifle and rubbed a speck of dust off his pistol-holster. The hint was plain enough, but the sealer only smiled.

"That's all right, but I want the lad up on your bridge with me," he said. "If there was any trouble he could tell folks I did the square thing by you!"

The Commander signified agreement. "Who is the lad, anyway?" he said. "He hasn't the hard look of the rest of you."

Stickine glanced at Appleby. "I don't quite know. We picked him up, and his partner told a kind of curious story. Allowed his father was a big man back there in the old country."

A little smile crept into the Commander's eyes. "Well, I shouldn't wonder if it was the right one, but that don't concern us now. Would you like more coffee before you begin?"

"No," said Stickine. "You can tell them to start the windlass when you're ready."

The windlass was rattling and the chain grinding in when they crossed the sloppy deck and climbed to the bridge. A jet of steam roared away into the haze from beside the funnel, and the tinkle of iron came up from the gratings, while Appleby noticed that every boat was swung out ready for lowering at a moment's notice. Except for one or two men forward the bluejackets were drawn up in little groups about the deck and stood motionless, apparently watching the sealers' boat that heaved in the haze ahead. Then the windlass stopped rattling and there was for a moment or two a curious silence while the steamer rolling lazily slid sideways with the stream.

"Keep your anchor at the bows," said Stickine. "Back her until she comes round under a starboard helm."

The Commander touched a handle, there was a tinkle below, the bridge commenced to tremble, and with a thud-thud of engines the steamer crawled astern. Then when her bows had swung round Stickine raised his hand.

"Ahead slow!" he said. "Just keep her going."

The engines thudded once more, and then commenced a monotonous rumbling as they crept on into the haze, while with every man pulling hard the sealers' boat slid towards them. Donovitch the Indian was standing in the bows, and Appleby, glancing round a moment, saw that the faces of the two officers on the bridge were grim and set. Neither of them or the men below, however, moved an inch, and the stillness and the silence through which he seemed to hear his heart thumping affected Appleby curiously. He felt cold beneath the old fur waistcoat Jordan had given him, for he had more than a suspicion that Stickine would only have the one chance of blundering now, and that if he did it a good many of the gunboat's company would never get ashore. A long swell heaved through the passage, roaring ominously as it seethed upon the reefs.

Then the Indian in the bows swung up an arm, and while Stickine signed to the helmsman who stood rigidly still gripping his wheel the sea was rent ahead and there rushed upwards a great cloud of spray and foam. It whirled high and a deep rumbling followed it, while another hoarse roar rang through the haze in front of them, and Appleby saw the officers glance at one another. He knew, as they did, what would happen if lifted by the swell they struck that froth-swept stone, and he felt that swift death was very near them all just then.

Still, Stickine only nodded to the helmsman, and the bows swung slowly round, while when the long swell foamed again the reef lay a score of yards away from them, and the growl of another grew louder. Appleby could faintly see the filmy cloud that whirled about it, and held his breath as he realized that the stream was carrying them towards it, and wondered if the helmsman could swing the ship clear in time. Then he gathered a little comfort from a glance at Stickine, whose face was unconcerned.

"Give her steam," he said.

For a moment the Commander stood quite still with his fingers motionless on the handle that would quicken the engines, and Appleby could guess his thoughts. If they drove the steamer faster now, and she would not swing, in less than another minute her bows would be crumpled in.

"You're taking your chances with us," he said.

"Oh, yes," said Stickine. "Unless you're quick with that telegraph I'm not going to have any. Give her steam."

The Commander thrust down the handle, there was a tinkle below, and while the engines beat faster Stickine turned his hand round as he glanced at the helmsman. Then Appleby saw nothing but the spray ahead, and heard a hollow rumbling sound that sent a shiver through him as once more a white cloud whirled up. His eyes grew dazed as he watched it blow away until the foam about the reef beneath it was blotted out by the steamer's bows. Next he became dimly conscious that the helmsman was spinning his wheel, and noticed nothing further until the horrible white confusion was sliding away behind them. There was only the haze before them now, and it seemed to be growing thinner.

"Slow!" said Stickine signing with his hand, and while the rumble of engines slackened a faint cry came out of the dimness.