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Penny Dreadfuls, 1868 · page 72 of 98

The Frozen Crew Of The Ice-Bound Ship; Or, Terrors Of The Arctic Region — page 72: what you’re looking at

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The Frozen Crew Of The Ice-Bound Ship; Or, Terrors Of The Arctic Region — page 72: Penny Dreadfuls, 1868

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62 THE FROZEN are dancing a hornpipe in my-heac with cold; but I'll soon put that to-rights.”’ Nick seized the tongs, and raking together the smouldering heap, broke it up into fresh life. Then casting his eye round, he saw in a corner a stock of driftwood, and transferred two or three logs of it at once to the blaze, which, conscious of such unwonted supply, began to transmit such a smoke as had not issued for many a day in the chamber. ! While Nick was thus making himself at home and comfortable, he kept edging and jogging Paul Jones to turn to their newly arrived guest, who had silently entered the hut. In an instant he recognised Gonzalvi. On beholding the youth, the pirate uttered a cry of surprise, and, shaking off his excitement, rushed towards him with a quick step. Seeing the youth was weak and faint, he led him to the nearest seat, and deposited him within it with as much tenderness and solicitude as could be shown by a nurse towards an invalid. In good truth, the poor lad was indeed’ in a sorry plight. His clothes were torn, travel-soiled, and stained with blood. His locks were dishevelled and unkempt. His lineaments were ghastly pale, and his right arm appeared to be wounded. But the wound was bound up, and the limb sup- ported by a scarf, furnished from the throat of Brandy-nosed Nick. “My brave Gonzalvi, how I rejoice to see you again!’ Paul Jones exclaimed, embracing and bending over him with an effusion of tears. “‘I had given you up for lost.” “You must thank Nick for bringing me to you in safety,” replied the addressed, with affection: ‘‘without his aid I should never have seen Pau! Jones more. ““{ shall die content since I have seen him,” continued Gonzalvi, resting his head upon the pirate’s shoulder. The effect produced upon Paul Jones by these words, was singular in the extreme. He passed his hand across his brow. He gazed on his companion in doubt and amaze- ment. Then, in an underbreath, murmured forth the sentence— ““} dare not think it: ’tis folly—madness!” ‘‘ Avast! belay, there!” cried Brandy-nosed Nick. “‘Who’s talking about dying in such a delightful climate as this? It’s cold, to be sure, but it braces the nerves and sharpens the appetite; in these latitudes you can take any quantity of blubber and ‘train oil with a relish, though I must say I prefer a can of three-quarter grog of the right sort. “Talking of drinking,” continued the seaman, ‘our friend looks very faint, and I feel so. I think a drop.of something would do us both good, especi- ally if we have a little salt junk along with it.” ‘Well thought of,” cried Paul Jones; “I'll get you refreshments instantly.” ““Gonzalvi is suffering more from weakness and want of nourishment than from his wound,” said Nick, handing a glass that had been filled by the ‘hospitable host. The youth took the vessel and looked fixedly at the doner as he raised it to his lips. Paul Jones next brought forward materials for a plentiful repast—the dishes consisting of venison dried fish, and wild fowl. As soon as arrangements for. this impromptu Supper were completed, the guests sat down, Brandy-nosed Nick was hungry, and soon cleared ee — — ——————— a aan ae ts CREW AND ICE-BOUND SQHIP, his trencher, and, being by no means bashful, readily consented to its being replenished. Gonzalvi, upon whom the generous liquor he had swallowed had produced a very beneficial effect, did also justice to the fare placed before him. Good eating requires good drinking, says the ancient maxim. Brandy-nosed Nick seemed thoroughly to coincide with so sensible an axiom, for with every mouthful he indulged in potations lusty, vigorous and deep. His appetite was enormous. His thirst prodigious. A pause, however, in this terrible sample of mas- tication at length arrived, and Paul Jones ventured to ask for some particulars of the escape and re- ‘covery of their messmate, Gonzalvi. The youth was about to answer, when he was interrupted by a sudden emotion on the part of Nick. “Silence, for your lives!” he murmured, in a whisper. ‘I scent danger inthe wind. Dowse the glim and shade the fire!” “What alarm is this ?’”” asked Paul Jones, much astonished at the unaccountable actions of the party who had spoken. Nick, either too terrified or too absorbed in hig thoughts, made no reply to the question, but started to his feet. The noise which he had heard was now imparted to the ears of his companions. 5 Hach one cast his looks on every side of him, bent low, and turned inguiringly to the door of the dwelling, at which there was now given three distinct taps, CHAPTER XXVI. WALRUS HUNTING IN THE ARCTIC SEAS.—THE PIRATES ME.T WITH A STRANGE ADVENTURE. The door was no sooner opened, than a stranger entered the hut. He was lighted by a piece of split fir that blazed in his hand. The torch illuminated wild and anxious features. Their expression and appearance seemed at once to be ominous of approaching danger. The intruder was strong and tall, and his dress bespoke his character, namely, that of chief in the Indian tribe of the White Beaver. The impression of so singular a visitation was, as may be supposed, deep and engrossing. Manitto was the first to break the momentary silence, which he did in somewhat ambiguous terms. | “ The honour of my fathers must not be sullied. You, who boast of mildness and civilization, are prone to forgive injury. ‘Your nature,’ continued Manitto, “teaches you calmly to bear with wrongs—nay, even sometimes to caress those who would heap them on you. The Indian knows but one alternative: revenge.” ‘Heaven! what suspicion crosses my mind,” muttered Gonzalvi. ; “I esteemed the white man,” said the Indian, “and his counsels I would kindly have listened to, but he wounds my honour and betrays my faith.” *“‘Chief, your words are enigmas,” replied Paul Jones, amazed at the words he heard. “It is im- possible that my companions can have ty “ My wife has received insult at ther hands,” in- terrupted Manitto. ‘‘Spirit of my fathers, I love that woman! and, to avenge her, would shed my last red drop! ““T have watched her when the fierce blast of | EOMMlGoOOKS-COm ~