Red Rooney | Page 5

of man has ever conceived.
From this state of bliss he was rudely awakened by a roughish poke in
the back. The poke was accompanied by a snuffing sound which caused
the blood of the poor man to curdle. Could it be a bear?

He was not left long in doubt. After giving him another poke on the
shoulder, the creature walked round him, snuffing as it went, and, on
reaching the air-hole already referred to, thrust its snout in and snorted.
Rooney turned his face aside to avoid the blast, but otherwise lay quite
still, knowing well that whatever animal his visitor might be, his only
hope lay in absolute inaction. Venturing in a few seconds to turn his
face round and peep through the opening, he found that the animal was
in very deed a large white bear, which, having found and abstracted the
remains of the blubber he had been chewing, was at that moment
licking its lips after swallowing it. Of course, finding the morsel
satisfactory, the bear returned to the hole for more.
It is easier to conceive than to describe the poor man's feelings at that
moment, therefore we leave the reader to conceive them. The natural
and desperate tendency to spring up and defend himself had to be
combated by the certain knowledge that, encased as he was, he could
not spring up, and had nothing wherewith to defend himself except his
fingers, which were no match for the claws of a Polar bear.
The blood which a moment before had begun apparently to curdle, now
seemed turned into liquid fire; and when the snout again entered and
touched his own, he could contain himself no longer, but gave vent to a
yell, which caused the startled bear to draw sharply back in alarm.
Probably it had never heard a yell through the medium of its nose
before, and every one must know how strong is the influence of a new
sensation. For some minutes the monster stood in silent contemplation
of the mysterious hole. Rooney of course lay perfectly still. The
success of his involuntary explosion encouraged hope.
What the bear might have done next we cannot tell, for at that moment
a shout was heard. It was followed by what seemed a succession of
pistol shots and the howling of dogs. It was the arrival of Okiok on the
scene with his sledge and team.
Never was an arrival more opportune. The bear looked round with a
distinct expression of indignation on his countenance. Possibly the
voice of Okiok was familiar to him. It may be that relations or friends
of that bear had mysteriously disappeared after the sounding of that

voice. Perhaps the animal in whose skin Rooney was encased had been
a brother. At all events, the increasing hullabaloo of the approaching
Eskimo had the effect of intimidating the animal, for it retired quickly,
though with evident sulkiness, from the scene.
A few seconds more, and Okiok dashed up, leaped from his vehicle,
left the panting team to the control of Norrak, and ran eagerly to the
prostrate figure. Unwrapping the head so as to set it free, the Eskimo
saw with intense satisfaction that the Kablunet was still alive. He called
at once to Norrak, who fetched from the sledge a platter made of a
seal's shoulder-blade, on which was a mass of cooked food. This he
presented to the starving man, who, with a look of intense gratitude, but
with no words, eagerly ate it up. The Eskimo and his son meanwhile
stood looking at him with an expression of mingled interest, awe, and
surprise on their round faces.
When the meal was ended, Red Rooney, heaving a deep sigh of
satisfaction, said, "Thank God, and thank you, my friends!"
There was reason for the increase of surprise with which this was
received by the two natives, for this time the foreigner spoke to them in
their own language.
"Is the Kablunet a messenger from heaven," asked Okiok, with
increased solemnity, "that he speaks with the tongue of the Innuit?"
"No, my friend," replied Rooney, with a faint smile; "I bring no
message either from heaven or anywhere else. I'm only a wrecked
seaman. But, after a fashion, you are messengers from heaven to me,
and the message you bring is that I'm not to die just yet. If it had not
been for you, my friends, it strikes me I should have been dead by this
time. As to my speaking your lingo, it's no mystery. I've learned it by
livin' a long time wi' the traders in the south of Greenland, and I
suppose I've got a sort o' talent that way; d'ye see?"
Red Rooney delivered these remarks fluently in a curious sort of
Eskimo language;