Newfoundland Stories by Eldon Drodge Read Free Book Online Page A

space of two hours, the tranquility of the morning would be transformed into a maelstrom, and the ice-field would become a death trap. The first indicators were icy blasts from the northwest that sent the temperature plummeting. As the wind veered farther to the north, isolated snowflakes materialized and rapidly escalated into driving snow that stung the men’s faces and reduced visibility to almost zero. At times they could barely see each other even though they were only a few feet apart. The temperature continued to drop, and the men knew they were in trouble. Bussey assembled the others. “B’ys, we’re in for a hard time until the skipper comes for us,” he told them. “There’s nothing to do but bide here and wait.”
    Then he cautioned, “You’ve got to keep moving about. You can’t stop or you might freeze. I’m sure the skipper will get here as soon as he can.”
    Even as he said it, he, along with most of the others, knew that Captain Dickie might have difficulty locating them. They were not where the captain had dropped them off. For the seals which had been plentiful in that area the previous day had since disappeared, and Bussey, as watch master, had made the decision to search for them elsewhere. Consequently, they were at least three miles south of where the captain would expect them to be.
    The storm raged all morning. At first, the stranded sealers mounded up snow to provide a barricade against the wind, but their efforts were futile and the snow blew away as quickly as they piled it up. Thus exposed, they had no other way to shelter themselves and keep warm. The more experienced among them bemoaned the fact that they didn’t have any seal carcasses, for the oily bodies would burn efficiently and provide heat. As well, the stacked carcasses could serve as a windbreak. Unfortunately, the men were left to their own devices. Their only option was to keep shuffling around to keep the blood flowing in their freezing bodies.
    Six miles away, Captain Dickie was worried. As soon as the storm erupted, he had gone to collect his men. By noon, all but Bussey’s watch had been gathered in and were safely on board. He was sure, despite the driving snow, that he had gone to the correct location, to the area where he had left them. He ordered that the horn be blown continuously to let Bussey and the others know that he was in the vicinity, and sent men out onto the ice to look for them. After an hour of fruitless searching, he knew he would have to look elsewhere. He turned eastward, concluding that the sealers must be trying to make their own way back to the steamer. He did not know that Pius was among those he was searching for.
    By mid-afternoon the storm had intensified, and the plight of the stranded men worsened. With darkness rapidly approaching, some of them began to lose hope. Some ceased their walking and sank onto the ice, too tired to continue and resigned to whatever fate might now befall them. Most of them now realized that their survival depended on Captain Dickie locating them, and prayed that the skipper would find them before it was too late.
    Pius felt colder than he’d ever felt before. The shirt and windbreaker
he wore offered virtually no protection against the storm, and
the fierce northern wind pierced his body mercilessly without letup.
He tried to keep moving, but he knew he was freezing to death on his
feet. He was so numb and stiff he could barely move his arms and legs,
and each step in the blinding snowstorm required enormous effort.
With darkness now descending, he was frightened, and his mother’s
words about men being lost on the ice each year rang loudly in his
mind. He was also afraid of what Abram Bussey might do to him if
he stopped. He had reached the point, however, where he could carry
on no longer and, despite Bussey’s order, slumped down on the ice to
rest. As snow drifted around him and covered his exposed body,