Part 11

Thornton's doubt was strong in his face, but his fighting spirit was aroused--the fighting spirit that soars above odds, fails to recognize the impossible, and is deaf to all save 5 the clamor for battle. He called Hans and Pete to him. Their sacks were slim, and with his own the three partners could rake together only two hundred dollars. In the ebb of their fortunes, this sum was their total capital; yet they laid it unhesitatingly against Matthewson's six 10 hundred.

The team of ten dogs was unhitched, and Buck, with his own harness, was put into the sled. He had caught the contagion of the excitement, and he felt that in some way he must do a great thing for John Thornton. Murmurs of 15 admiration at his splendid appearance went up. He was in perfect condition, without an ounce of superfluous flesh, and the one hundred and fifty pounds that he weighed were so many pounds of grit and virility. His furry coat shone with the sheen of silk. Down the neck and across the 20 shoulders, his mane, in repose as it was, half bristled and seemed to lift with every movement, as though excess of vigor made each particular hair alive and active. The great breast and heavy fore legs were no more than in proportion with the rest of the body, where the muscles 25 showed in tight rolls underneath the skin. Men felt these muscles and proclaimed them hard as iron, and the odds went down to two to one.

"Gad, sir! Gad, sir!" stuttered a member of the latest dynasty, a king of the Skookum Benches. "I offer 30 you eight hundred for him, sir, before the test, sir; eight hundred just as he stands."

Thornton shook his head and stepped to Buck's side.

"You must stand off from him," Matthewson protested. "Free play and plenty of room."

The crowd fell silent; only could be heard the voices of the gamblers vainly offering two to one. Everybody 5 acknowledged Buck a magnificent animal, but twenty fifty-pound sacks of flour bulked too large in their eyes for them to loosen their pouch strings.

Thornton knelt down by Buck's side. He took his head in his two hands and rested cheek on cheek. He did not 10 playfully shake him, as was his wont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear. "As you love me, Buck. As you love me," was what he whispered. Buck whined with suppressed eagerness.

The crowd was watching curiously. The affair was growing 15 mysterious. It seemed like a conjuration. As Thornton got to his feet, Buck seized his mittened hand between his jaws, pressing it with his teeth and releasing it slowly, half reluctantly. It was the answer, in terms not of speech but of love. Thornton stepped well back. 20

"Now, Buck," he said.

Buck tightened the traces, then slacked them for a matter of several inches. It was the way he had learned.

"Gee!" Thornton's voice rang out, sharp in the tense silence. 25

Buck swung to the right, ending the movement in a plunge that took up the slack and with a sudden jerk arrested his one hundred and fifty pounds. The load quivered, and from under the runners arose a crisp crackling.

"Haw!" Thornton commanded. 30

Buck duplicated the maneuver, this time to the left. The crackling turned into a snapping, the sled pivoting and the runners slipping and grating several inches to the side. The sled was broken out. Men were holding their breaths, intensely unconscious of the fact.

"Now, _mush_!"

Thornton's command cracked out like a pistol shot. 5 Buck threw himself forward, tightening the traces with a jarring lunge. His whole body was gathered compactly together in the tremendous effort, the muscles writhing and knotting like live things under the silky fur. His great chest was low to the ground, his head forward and down, 10 while his feet were flying like mad, the claws scarring the hard-packed snow in parallel grooves. The sled swayed and trembled, half started forward. One of his feet slipped, and one man groaned aloud. Then the sled lurched ahead in what appeared a rapid succession of jerks, though it never 15 really came to a dead stop again--half an inch--an inch--two inches. The jerks perceptibly diminished; as the sled gained momentum he caught them up till it was moving steadily along.

Men gasped and began to breathe again, unaware that 20 for a moment they had ceased to breathe. Thornton was running behind, encouraging Buck with short, cheery words. The distance had been measured off, and as he neared the pile of firewood which marked the end of the hundred yards, a cheer began to grow and grow, which 25 burst into a roar as he passed the firewood and halted at command. Every man was tearing himself loose, even Matthewson. Hats and mittens were flying in the air. Men were shaking hands, it did not matter with whom, and bubbling over in a general incoherent babel. 30

But Thornton fell on his knees beside Buck. Head was against head, and he was shaking him back and forth. Buck seized Thornton's hand in his teeth. As though animated by a common impulse, the onlookers drew back to a respectful distance.

--_The Call of the Wild._

(From _The Call of the Wild_, by Jack London, used by permission of The Macmillan Company, Publishers, and by arrangement with Mrs. Charmian K. London.)

1. Jack London (1867-1916) was a Californian by birth. He early began roving, and his voyages and tramps took him all over the world. He was a keen observer and a virile writer. _The Call of the Wild_ is perhaps the best known of his many tales. You observe from the extract that his stories are full of action. They are moving pictures in words.

2. What was the situation that led up to the bet? Where is this event supposed to have taken place? Read the lines that show the men are miners.

3. How much was staked against Buck? Who was for the dog? Against him? How did he respond? How did the men who bet against Buck show they were good losers?

THE LOSS OF THE _DRAKE_

BY CHARLOTTE M. YONGE

The Newfoundland coast is a peculiarly dangerous one, from the dense fogs that are caused by the warm waters of the Gulf Stream. These waters rushing up from the equator here come in contact with the cold currents from the pole. As they meet, they send up such heavy vapor 5 that day can sometimes scarcely be discerned from night; even at little more than arm's length objects cannot be distinguished, while from without, the mist looks like a thick, sheer precipice of snow.

In such a fearful fog, on the morning of the 20th of June, 10 1822, the small schooner _Drake_ struck suddenly upon a rock and almost immediately fell over on her side, the waves breaking over her. Her commander, Captain Baker, ordered her masts to be cut away, in hopes of lightening her so that she might right herself, but in vain. One boat was washed away, another upset as soon as she was launched, and there remained only the small boat called the captain's gig. 5

The ship was fast breaking up; the only hope was that the crew might reach a small rock, the point of which could be seen above the waves at a distance that the fog made difficult to calculate, but that, it was hoped, might not be too great. A man named Leonard seized a rope and sprang 10 into the sea, but the current was too strong for him; he was carried away in an opposite direction and was obliged to be dragged on board again.

Then the boatswain, whose name was Turner, volunteered to make the attempt in the gig, taking a rope fastened 15 round his body. The crew cheered him after the gallant fashion of British seamen, though they were all hanging on by the ropes to the ship, with the sea breaking over them and threatening every moment to dash the vessel to pieces. Anxiously they watched Turner in his boat, as 20 he made his way to within a few feet of the rock. There the boat was lifted high and higher by a huge wave, then hurled down on the rock and shattered to pieces; but the brave boatswain was safe, and contrived to keep his hold of the rope and to scramble up on the stone. 25

Another great wave, almost immediately after, heaved up the remains of the ship and dashed her down close to this rock of safety. Captain Baker, giving up the hope of saving her, commanded the crew to leave her and make their way to the rock. For the first time he met with 30 disobedience. With one voice they refused to leave the wreck unless they saw him before them in safety. Calmly he renewed his orders, saying that his life was the last and least consideration, and they were obliged to obey, leaving the ship in as orderly a manner as if they were going ashore in harbor. But they were so benumbed with cold that many were unable to climb the rock and were swept off by 5 the waves; among these was the lieutenant.

Captain Baker last of all joined his crew. It was then discovered that they were at no great distance from the land, but that the tide was rising and that the rock on which they stood would assuredly be covered at high water. The 10 heavy mist and lonely coast gave scarcely a hope that help would come ere the slowly rising waters must devour them.

Still there was no murmur. Again the gallant boatswain, who still held the rope, volunteered to make an effort to save his comrades. With a few words of earnest prayer, 15 he secured the rope round his waist, struggled hard with the waves, and reached the shore, whence he sent back the news of his safety by a loud cheer to his comrades.

There was now a line of rope between the shore and the rock, just long enough to reach from one to the other when 20 held by a man at each end. The only hope of safety lay in working a desperate passage along this rope to the land. The spray was already beating over those who were crouched on the rock, but not a man moved till called by name by Captain Baker, and then it is recorded that not 25 one, so summoned, stirred till he had used his best entreaties to the captain to take his place; but the captain had but one reply: "I will never leave the rock until every soul is safe."

Forty-four stout sailors had made their perilous way to 30 shore. The forty-fifth looked round and saw a poor woman lying helpless, almost lifeless, on the rock, unable to move. He took her in one arm, and with the other clung to the rope. Alas! the double weight was more than the much-tried rope could bear; it broke halfway, and the poor woman and the sailor were both swallowed in the eddy.

Captain Baker and three seamen remained, utterly cut 5 off from hope of help. The men in best condition hurried off in search of help, found a farmhouse, obtained a rope, and hastened back; but long ere their arrival the waters had flowed above the head of the brave and faithful captain. All the crew could do was, with full hearts, to write 10 a most touching letter to an officer who had once sailed with them in the _Drake_, entreating him to represent their captain's conduct to the Lords of the Admiralty.

"In fact," said the letter, "during the whole business he proved himself a man whose name and last conduct 15 ought ever to be held in the highest estimation by a crew who feel it their duty to ask, from the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, that which they otherwise have not the means of obtaining; that is, a public and lasting record of the lion-hearted, generous, and the very unexampled 20 way in which our late noble commander sacrificed his life in the evening of the 20th of June."

This letter was signed by the whole surviving crew of the _Drake_, and in consequence, a tablet in the dockyard chapel at Portsmouth commemorates the heroism of Captain 25 Charles Baker.

--_A Book of Golden Deeds._

1. Retell the main events of this story as briefly as you can. You can do this best by making a careful outline of the points set forth. Hand your topics to your teacher.

2. What is the rule aboard ship in case of abandoning the vessel? What accidents at sea do you know about?

THE WALRUS HUNT

BY ROBERT M. BALLANTYNE

The following episode is from _Ungava: A Tale of Eskimo Land_, a "classic" of the fifties and sixties. _Ungava_ is full of thrilling adventure, based on the author's own experiences as a young fur trader in the Hudson Bay country. Ballantyne (1825-1894) belonged to the family of famous Edinburgh publishers that issued Scott's works.

Just prior to the incident quoted below, Annatock had discovered a walrus frozen to death and was engaged in chopping him up. Then appears walrus number two, who was thoroughly alive.

Not far from the spot where this fortunate discovery had been made, there was a large sheet of recently formed black ice, where the main ice had been broken away and the open water left. The sheet, although much melted by the thaw, was still about three inches thick, and quite 5 capable of supporting a man.

While Annatock was working with his back to this ice, he heard a tremendous crash take place behind him. Turning hastily round, he observed that the noise was caused by another enormous walrus, the glance of whose large round 10 eyes, and whose loud snort, showed clearly enough that he was not frozen like his unfortunate companion. By this time the little boy had come up with Edith and the sledge, so Annatock ordered him to take the dogs behind a hummock to keep them out of sight, while he selected several 15 strong harpoons and a lance from the sledge. Giving another lance to Peetoot, he signed to Edith to sit on the hummock while he attacked the grisly monster of the deep single-handed.

While these preparations were being made, the walrus dived, and while it was under water the man and the boy ran quickly forward a short distance and then lay down behind a lump of ice. Scarcely had they done so when the walrus came up again with a loud snort, splashing the water 5 with its broad, heavy flippers--which seemed a sort of compromise between legs and fins--and dashing waves over the ice as it rolled about its large, unwieldy carcass. It was truly a savage-looking monster as large as a small elephant and having two tusks of a foot and a half long. 10 The face bore a horrible resemblance to that of a man. Its crown was round and bulging, its face broad and massive, and a thick, bristling mustache--rough as the spines of a porcupine--covered its upper lip and depended in a shaggy dripping mass over its mouth. After spluttering 15 about a short time, it dived again.

Now was Annatock's time. Seizing a harpoon and a coil of line, he muttered a few words to the boy, sprang up, and running out upon the smooth ice, stood by the edge of the open water. He had not waited here more than a 20 few seconds when the black waters were cleft by the blacker head of the monster, as it once more ascended to renew its elephantine gambols in the pool.

As it rose the Eskimo threw up his arm and poised the harpoon. For one instant the surprised animal raised 25 itself breast-high out of the water and directed a stare of intense astonishment at the man. That moment was fatal. Annatock buried the harpoon deep under its left flipper. With a fierce bellow the brute dashed itself against the ice, endeavoring in its fury to reach its assailant; but the ice 30 gave way under its enormous weight, while Annatock ran back as far as the harpoon line would permit him.

The walrus, seeing that it could not reach its enemy in this way, seemed now to be actually endowed with reason. It took a long gaze at Annatock, and then dived. But the Eskimo was prepared for this. He changed his position hastily and played his line the meanwhile, fixing the point 5 of his lance into the ice in order to give him a more effective hold. Scarcely had he done so when the spot he had just left was smashed up, and the head of the walrus appeared, grinning, and bellowing as if in disappointment.

At this moment Peetoot handed his uncle a harpoon, and 10 ere the animal dived the weapon was fixed in his side. Once more Annatock changed his position; and once again the spot on which he had been standing was burst upwards. It was a terrible sight to see that unearthly-looking monster smashing the ice around it and lashing the blood-stained 15 sea into foam, while it waged such mortal war with the self-possessed and wary man. How mighty and strong the one! how comparatively weak and seemingly helpless the other! It was the triumph of mind over matter--of reason over blind brute force. 20

But Annatock fought a hard battle that day ere he came off conqueror. Harpoon after harpoon was driven into the walrus--again and again the lance pierced deep into its side and drank its lifeblood; but three hours had passed away before the dead carcass was dragged from the deep 25 by the united force of dogs and man.

--_Ungava: A Tale of Eskimo Land._

1. Find the picture of a walrus, and tell what the animal looks like. Get a description of a walrus from your reference library, if possible.

2. Describe Annatock's method of hunting the walrus.

3. Be prepared to give a two-minute talk on the Eskimos, touching on race to which they belong, methods of obtaining food, and mode of living.

THE RESCUE

On a bright moonlight night, in the month of February, 1831, when it was intensely cold, the little brig which I commanded lay quietly at her anchors inside of Sandy Hook. We had had a hard time beating about for eleven days off this coast, with cutting northeasters blowing and 5 snow and sleet falling for the most part of that time.

Forward, the vessel was thickly coated with ice, and it was hard work to handle her as the rigging and sails were stiff and yielded only when the strength of the men was exerted to the utmost. When we at length made the port, 10 all hands were worn down and exhausted.

"A bitter cold night, Mr. Larkin," I said to my mate as I tarried for a short time upon deck. The worthy down-easter buttoned his coat more tightly around him, and looking up to the moon replied, "It's a whistler, Captain; and 15 nothing can live comfortably out of blankets to-night."

"The tide is running out swift and strong, and it will be well to keep a sharp lookout for this floating ice, Mr. Larkin," said I, as I turned to go below.

About two hours afterward I was aroused from a sound 20 sleep by the vigilant officer. "Excuse me for disturbing you, Captain," said he, as he detected an expression of vexation in my face, "but I wish you would turn out and come on deck as soon as possible."

"What's the matter, Mr. Larkin?" said I. 25

"Why, sir, I have been watching a large cake of ice, which swept by at a distance a moment ago, and I saw something black upon it, something that I thought moved. The moon is under a cloud and I could not see distinctly, but I believe there is a child floating out to the sea, this freezing night, on that cake of ice."

We were on deck before either spoke another word. 5 The mate pointed out with no little difficulty the cake of ice floating off to the leeward, with its white, glittering surface broken by a black spot.

"Get the glass, Mr. Larkin," said I; "the moon will be out of that cloud in a moment and then we can see distinctly." 10

I kept my eye upon the receding mass of ice while the moon was slowly working her way through a heavy bank of clouds. The mate stood by me with the glass, and when the full light fell upon the water with a brilliancy only 15 known in our northern latitudes, I put the glass to my eye. One glance was enough.

"Forward, there!" I hailed at the top of my voice; and with one bound I reached the main hatch and began to clear away the little cutter which was stowed in the ship's 20 yawl.

Mr. Larkin had taken the glass to look for himself. "There are two children on that cake of ice!" he exclaimed, as he hastened to assist me in getting out the boat.

The men answered my hail and walked quickly aft. In 25 a short space of time we launched the cutter, into which Mr. Larkin and myself jumped, followed by the two men who took the oars. I rigged the tiller, and the mate sat beside me in the stern sheets.

"Do you see that cake of ice with something black upon 30 it, my lads? Put me alongside of that and I'll give you a month's extra wages when you are paid off," said I.

They bent to their oars, but their strokes were uneven and feeble, for they were worn out by the hard duty of the preceding fortnight; and though they did their best, the boat made little more headway than the tide. It was a losing chase, and Mr. Larkin, who was suffering torture 5 as he saw how little we gained, cried out, "Pull, lads! I'll double the captain's prize; two months' extra pay. Pull, lads! pull for life!"

A convulsive effort at the oars told how willing the men were to obey, but the strength of the strong men was gone. 10 One of the poor fellows washed us twice in recovering his oar and then gave out, and the other was nearly as far gone. Mr. Larkin sprang forward and seized the deserted oar. "Lie down in the bottom of the boat," said he to the man; "and, Captain, take the other oar! We must row for ourselves." 15

I took the second man's place. Larkin had stripped off his coat, and as he pulled the bow, I waited for the signal stroke. It came, gently, but firm; and the next moment we were pulling a long, steady stroke, gradually increasing 20 in rapidity until the wood seemed to smoke in the row-locks. We kept time, each by the long, deep breathing of the other.

Such a pull! We bent forward until our faces almost touched our knees; and then throwing all our strength into 25 the backward movement, drew on the oar until every inch covered by the sweep was gained. Thus we worked at the oars for fifteen minutes, and it seemed to me as many hours. The sweat rolled off in great drops, and I was enveloped in a steam generated from my own body. 30