Authors: John Christopher
Mama Simanyi shook her head. ‘It will be cold out there. We must wear plenty of clothes.’
‘That is the next thing. Get the other women to work on that. Boots are most important.’
‘We have fur boots, Nadya and I, in our cases.’
‘No, listen. We need
mukluks
, but we have not got them. So we must do what we can. In the forecastle, you will find boots, and Jorgen must give you the boots from the store and all the boots of officers and passengers. Then you share them out, giving each person boots one or even two sizes too big. Inside we wear two pairs of socks; but we need more insulation under the foot, so you must make pads for each boot.’
‘Pads? Of cloth?’
‘Cloth outside. Inside – we have hay in the stern hold; that is good for insulation. Make pads to fit the inside soles of the boots, and inside the pads put hay – enough for them to be about seven millimetres thick when pressed down hard. Use the softest, driest hay you can find for this.’
Mama Simanyi nodded. ‘We can do it.’
‘For the other clothes, again we need insulation. It would be good if we had string vests, but we have not. If you can find thin cellular vests to go underneath wool ones, use them. On top, flannel shirts, jerseys, jackets that will best keep out wind and rain and snow. And all must wear trousers – pyjama trousers underneath – and you cut an opening in the seats, and fasten with buttons, eh? – and then two pairs of trousers over them. There are denims in the crew’s quarters for the top pair.’
Mama Simanyi said doubtfully: ‘It will not be easy to find outfits for ten people. And there is the child. There will be no boots two sizes too big for her.’
‘You must do what you can, Mama. We rely on you. For the child’s boots, it is not so important – she will not be walking like the rest of us. Take extra woollen socks that can be pulled over her boots from outside. They will keep her warm.’
‘And gloves, too.’
‘The stoutest you can find, with liners if possible, and wool wristlets sewn on.’
‘We cannot do all this by tomorrow morning.’ She was apologetic. ‘At least, I do not think we can.’
‘It makes nothing,’ Olsen said. ‘The sledges and the tent will not be ready either. We take our time. Better to start later, and better prepared.’
They were alone at this end of the lounge. Mama Simanyi said, in a low voice:
‘The little walk. How many days do you think, Captain? It is best you tell me since I am to prepare for housekeeping.’
Olsen looked at her intently. ‘If all goes well – a week.’
‘And if not?’
He shrugged. ‘Who knows, Mama? We will get there as soon as is possible, I guess.’
Jones had cut his hand during the sledge-making. In their cabin at night, Sheila removed the old dressing and put on a new one.
She said: ‘It’s nasty.’
‘The knife slipped.’
‘Does it hurt much?’
‘Only when the cold gets to it. I’m glad we shan’t be ready to go in the morning.’
‘Do you think it will be all right the next day?’
‘Yes.’ He examined the cut. ‘It’s healing already.’
‘Apart from that,’ she said, ‘it will be good to go, won’t it – to get off the ship, to have some purpose in view.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Won’t it?’
He nodded towards the typewriter case. ‘I’m worrying about that.’
In a flat voice, she said: ‘What about it?’
‘Olsen says we shall only have room for essentials on the sledge. He’s right, I suppose.’
‘If you leave it, it will be safe here. No one can touch it, can they?’
He laughed, with some harshness. ‘And if the ice crushes the ship?’
‘Probably it won’t. He meant that you couldn’t risk human lives to it. We can’t be far from the edge of the ice. The steward, Thorsen, was saying they would probably salvage it when the ice breaks in the spring.’
‘And we’re to wait till then, wondering what’s happened to it and whether one of the salvage crew will get curious about that lock?’
She finished bandaging his hand and put her arms round him to draw him to her on the bed.
‘I know! We’ll put it inside one of the big cases – there’s room with the clothes and things we’re taking out. The lock on the blue case is a good one, and that won’t make anyone curious. We could even seal the cases; it’s a reasonable sort of precaution.’
He showed a brief interest, and then shook his head.
‘Four months at the least, perhaps six, perhaps longer. How do we live during that time?’
‘We could take enough with us in our pockets to last till then. A few hundred, anyway.’
He was silent for a time. Then he said:
‘I’m not going to risk it. I’m taking it with me.’
She thought of arguing with him, but she saw that it was no good. Logic was on his side; once you started something you carried it through to the end.
As though following her thoughts, he said:
‘Sheila, darling, are you sorry?’
‘Sorry?’
‘That you got into all this.’
There was not enough reassurance in words. She put her mouth to his and kissed him, passionately, desperately. Even that reassurance would not last, but for a time it was enough.
Annabel was asleep. The Arctic air tired her, and at night she went to sleep quickly and slept soundly. Mouritzen had looked in on his way to his cabin. Mary smiled and came to him. She was wearing a woollen dressing-gown over a white silk nightdress. The dressing-gown was knotted loosely at the front. He tugged at the knot, and the front fell open.
She said, smiling, wary and welcoming at once:
‘Remember your promise.’
‘I have not forgotten. I will not kiss you. To look at you in a nightdress is something else.’
‘Do you like it?’
He grinned at her. ‘Do not tempt me too far! You have told me how weak a man I am.’
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said.
‘Hm?’
She drew the dressing-gown round her again, and tied the belt more securely.
‘Now, listen. You said before that you would have to stay with the
Kreya
and Annabel and I were to go on ahead. But we’re leaving the
Kreya
here. So we can go together!’
‘Will you like that?’
She smiled. ‘Anyway, I was scared of meeting your family by myself.’
‘You need not have been. But you are right – it seems we will meet them together. There is one thing, though.’
‘What’s that?’
‘There is no boat from Copenhagen to Scoresby until July. We have a long wait there first. Unless we are taken by aeroplane. But I think there is no landing place for big aeroplanes, and I am not sure that the little ones can carry fuel to go so far from Iceland.’
‘We can wait. We’ll be together.’
‘Ah, that is the trouble. Together, in the Arctic winter, with no sun for two months … I think I would be very weak by the time the sun came back.’
‘I’ll put a padlock on my igloo.’
‘I have a better idea. We will get married at Scoresby. Then in the summer I will take you back to Denmark as a wife. If the boat takes us back in July, perhaps there will just be time.’
‘Time? For what?’
He took her hand and kissed the fingers.
‘For our first little Dane to be properly born in Denmark.’
The wind died down and the fog returned. The next day it thinned a little, but the sun, in its brief visit, was no more than a red streak in the haze. The work of preparation went on. Olsen found Mouritzen and Josef binding the runners on to one of the sledges with wire. He examined the sledge carefully.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I think we start tomorrow.’
‘Even if the fog is thick?’ Josef asked.
‘If it is no worse than today, we go. The ice is piling up on the starboard side.’
Josef nodded. ‘I saw that. And it gets more noisy, I think.’
‘Mama has given us boots,’ Mouritzen said. ‘With pads filled with hay to go inside. Might not the sea-boots be better?’
‘The sea-boots are of rubber. They make you sweat too much, and the sweat becomes ice under your feet. Then it is not pleasant.’
‘Weapons, Captain,’ Josef said, ‘– have we weapons?’
Olsen smiled. ‘We go for a little walk, not to fight a war.’
‘Maybe we kill a seal.’
‘We have the flare pistol,’ Olsen said, ‘but we will need that for flares, maybe. If you wish, you can make some spears – fix sharp knives on the end of sticks. I will leave the weapons to you.’
‘Yes, I will make them,’ Josef said with satisfaction. ‘And maybe I will catch fish, too.’
‘I do not think we can stop on the way long enough for that.’
‘It will not take long, Captain.’
‘I know a quicker way.’
‘What is that?’
‘Catch a seal and tame it. Then the seal will catch the fish for you.’
The wind rose again that night; it was not very strong but savagely cold. It numbed flesh after the first burning brand of its touch. But it dispersed the fog. They had their last breakfast on the
Kreya
at seven in the morning, and at eight, with the first beginning of half light, Olsen began to organize the transfer of the sledges to the surface of the ice, and their loading with equipment, food and blankets.
The sledges were piled high, and tarpaulins were drawn over them and bound tightly with rope: these tarpaulins would also serve as ground-sheets for the tents. A place was left, at the end of one of the sledges, for Annabel, and when all was ready she was carried down the rope ladder by Mouritzen and propped in place.
‘Is it well with you, little one?’ he asked her.
‘It’s so cold.’
‘Pull the flap across your face. So. And now I wrap the blankets around you and tuck them underneath. And then I must tie this strap, so that you do not fall off if the sledge tilts. It will be a rocky journey. Have you ever ridden on a camel?’
The small, covered head was shaken. Her muffled voice said:
‘Only an elephant, at Phoenix Park.’
‘Then you can pretend this is a wooden elephant.’
‘It doesn’t feel like being on an elephant.’
‘No? So you must pretend all the harder. Remember Kikkipik, the troll – he was good at pretending things.’
She said: ‘Mr Niels?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it as cold as this in Denmark?’
He laughed. ‘No. We shall not freeze you into an ice-maiden. And in the summer it is hot, much hotter than Ireland. We will have a lot of fun in summer.’
He left her with Mary to look after her, and clambered back on board. He heard the throb of the engines stop, and the lights winked off. It was a moment in which the full understanding came home to him that they were abandoning this stout and comfortable refuge for all the hazards and uncertainties of the ice-field. Olsen came up from the engine-room, slipping a torch into his pocket.
‘All is done,’ he said. ‘Now we say good-bye to the
Kreya
.’
Mouritzen said: ‘You said you would sail her back into port – that at last you would take her to the breaker’s yards.’
Olsen clapped his hand on Mouritzen’s arm. ‘If the ice does not squeeze the heart out of her, I can still do all that, Niels! And maybe she will still be afloat in the spring. She is a tough one: she has survived much already.’
Mouritzen looked down to the little party on the ice. They had a helpless look in the dark dawn.
‘This is an undertaking, Erik,’ he said. ‘One would not do it for choice.’
Olsen shrugged. ‘There are few things one would do for choice. Necessity is better, I think.’
‘In what way, better?’
‘As an incentive to effort.’
Mouritzen looked at him curiously. ‘The incentive is not the same for all.’
‘No?’
Mouritzen turned back to watch the waiting group.
‘The sledges,’ he commented, ‘are loaded high.’
‘Yes. That cannot be helped.’
‘Without those empty oil-drums we could have spread things more. It would have been safer.’
‘Yes. But we may need them.’
‘For what?’
Olsen stared at him. ‘For crossing open water – what else?’
‘But we are going towards the shore.’
‘Exactly. You will see. Now I think we abandon the
Kreya
. You first, Niels. It is my privilege to go last.’
The two men clambered down the rope ladder and left it swinging against the side of the deserted ship. Olsen mustered the party for final instructions.
‘There are two sets of traces on each sledge,’ he said, ‘and a harness which goes across the chest. It is a bit rough, perhaps, but we could do no better in the short time there was. The men will pull in this harness – an hour’s pull, half an hour’s rest – and the ladies will take it in turn to help push from behind. Of course, when there are difficulties, all help together.’
Nadya said: ‘I could take my turn with the harness. I am as strong as any man here.’
Olsen smiled. ‘Then you can push the harder, can you not?’ He nodded towards the brown shape of Katerina, squatting on the ice beside her. ‘And you have another duty – to control the bear.’
‘She needs no controlling.’
‘That we all hope.’ Olsen patted his pocket. ‘I have a charged flare pistol here. If she is naughty, I use it. Even if I do not kill her, I will singe her a little.’
‘Katerina will cause no trouble.’
‘Good. Then we are ready to start. Jorgen, you pull the first sledge with Niels – Josef with me on the second. After half an hour, you are replaced by Mr Jones and Stefan. And so it goes. Right. We begin.’
The typewriter case had been concealed behind Jones’s legs. As Olsen moved towards the second sledge, he picked it up, and Olsen saw him. He stopped.
‘A typewriter? Do you think you will write a book of our journey? But is it not better to wait until it is over?’
Jones said: ‘I’ll carry it, Captain. I’ve no intention of adding extra weight to the sledge.’
Olsen slowly shook his head. ‘You should have left it on the
Kreya
. I said nothing must be taken that was not essential. A typewriter is not essential.’
‘All the same, I insist on taking it. It isn’t very heavy. I can carry it easily.’
‘Give it to me,’ Olsen said. ‘I will take it back on board and put it in your cabin. We lose a little more time, but it cannot be helped. And it will be safe there until they come to salvage the
Kreya
.’