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Authors: Eric Walters

Trapped in Ice

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PUFFIN CANADA
 

 

TRAPPED IN ICE

 

ERIC WALTERS
is the highly acclaimed and bestselling author of over fifty novels for children and young adults. His novels have won the Silver Birch Award three times and the Red Maple Award twice, as well as numerous other prizes, including the White Pine, Snow Willow, Tiny Torgi, Ruth Schwartz, and IODE Violet Downey Book Awards, and have received honours from the Canadian Library Association Book Awards, The Children's Book Centre, and UNESCO's international award for Literature in Service of Tolerance.

 

To find out more about Eric and his novels, or to arrange for him to speak at your school, visit his website at
www.ericwalters.net
.

 

 

 

Also by Eric Walters from Penguin Canada

 

The Bully Boys

The Hydrofoil Mystery

Camp X

Royal Ransom

Run

Camp 30

Elixir

Shattered

Camp X: Fool's Gold

Sketches

The Pole

The Falls

 

 

 

Trapped

 in Ice

 

ERIC WALTERS

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PUFFIN CANADA

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Canada Inc.)

Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A. Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen's Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)

Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia

(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0745, Auckland, New Zealand

(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

First published in Viking Canada hardcover by Penguin Group (Canada), a division of Pearson Canada Inc., 1997

Published in Puffin Canada paperback by Penguin Group (Canada),

a division of Pearson Canada Inc., 1999

Published in this edition, 2008

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 (OPM)

Copyright © Eric Walters, 1997

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

Publisher's note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Manufactured in the U.S.A.

LIBRARY AND ARCHIVES CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION

Walters, Eric, 1957–

Trapped in ice / Eric Walters.

ISBN 978-0-14-316860-7

1. Arctic regions—Discovery and exploration—Canadian—Juvenile fiction. 2. Canadian Arctic Expedition (1913–1918)—Juvenile fiction. 3. Karluk (Ship)—Juvenile fiction.

4. Bartlett, Robert A. (Robert Abram), 1875–1946—Juvenile fiction. I. Title.

PS8595.A598T72     2008 jC813'.54     C2008-902535-0

Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a

similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Visit the Penguin Group (Canada) website at
www.penguin.ca

Special and corporate bulk purchase rates available; please see
www.penguin.ca/corporatesales
or call 1-800-810-3104, ext. 477 or 474

 

This novel is dedicated to the spirit of Captain

Robert Bartlett

 

 

Acknowledgments

This novel was completed while my family and I stayed with friends in Nova Scotia. I'd like to thank the Davidson family for opening their home and their hearts and for allowing parts of their past and personalities to become embedded in my characters.

 

 

Preface

This novel is based on the real-life adventure of Captain Robert Bartlett and the Canadian Arctic Expedition of 1913. The plot follows actual events and is true to the essence of the story. However, most of the characters, with the exception of Robert Bartlett, were known to me only by name and it was necessary to imagine their personalities. This is especially true for my main character, Helen, who tells the story. Much more information was available concerning Captain Bartlett, and I hope my portrayal accurately reflects his courage, integrity, intelligence, determination and strength.

 

 

Chapter One

July 1913

 

T
HE CARRIAGE TRAVELLED
slowly through the streets, the clip-clop of the horses' hooves against the cobblestones the only thing marking our movement. Our ride was smooth, smoother than any wagon I'd ever been in before. It was cushioned by special rubber wheels, like the kind used by the new horseless carriages. I would have loved to have had a spin in one of those, but I was just grateful to be in a coach as fancy as this.

We had boarded this carriage at the train station, where two porters had helped us move all our boxes and bags. This hadn't surprised me because we had so much to carry. We had all our clothes and personal belongings and some toys, and of course the books we'd need to do our schooling. Mother had told us we might be going away for two years but we weren't getting away from school. It would just mean she'd be our teacher.

What shocked me, though, was when Mother had told the porters to stop beside this coach. I thought we shouldn't be so extravagant, but she said it was important to travel to our ship first class. After all, she'd said, it wasn't every day you become part of the Canadian Arctic Expedition.

I'd seen carriages like this before but never dreamed that I'd be riding in one. It had polished wood and silver fittings. Inside were special soft upholstered seats and little curtains hanging in the windows and kerosene lamps. I wished it was night so the driver would light the lamps. The two horses pulling us had gleaming coats and elaborate reins and bridles and the driver was dressed fancier than anybody I'd ever seen except in pictures. He looked like a prince going to a fancy ball with the Queen of England. And I felt a bit like Cinderella.

Of course, Cinderella only had two wicked step-sisters. She didn't know how lucky she was not to have a little brother. Sitting in this fine carriage, reading my book, I was trying to act dignified and ladylike but my brother was practically hanging out the window gawking at the sights. It wasn't just that he was embarrassing me, as always, but he kept on blocking my view as he bounced from side to side. It wasn't fair! He wasn't the only one who had never been in Vancouver before.

There were hundreds and hundreds of people and automobiles sputtering and spewing out smoke. I even saw buildings more than five stories high. On one side, over the top of my brother's head, I could make out the tall masts of sailing ships, all docked or anchored along the shore or at the piers lining the waterfront.

“Mother, can't you make him sit down?” I pleaded.

“He's just excited, Helen.”

“He could still act more grown up.”

“Your brother is only eleven, Helen.”

“I just think he could—”

“Stop right now, Helen! Put down that book and enjoy the sights.”

I closed my book and placed it on my lap.

I always have a book with me. Mother insists I read what she calls “classic literature” or books filled with science facts. She disapproves of the stories I like which are filled with adventure and excitement, but she doesn't stop me from reading them. She calls them “pulp” and “trash.” Since Father's death we haven't been able to afford any new books so I've just reread my favourites over and over. It would truly be nice to have some new books, but reading one I know is almost like visiting a friend.

I felt the carriage sway to one side and the sound of the horses' hooves changed tones. They were no longer hitting cobblestones but echoing against wooden beams. I leaned forward in my seat and pushed the window curtain aside so I could see better. We were on a wide wooden pier. Michael moved over, and tried to look through my window. Reluctantly I let him squeeze his head under my arm.

We were rolling along a pier, past ships moored right up to the dock. Some of them had tall masts, their sails all furled up, while others had high metal walls and were driven by engines. There were lots of men scrambling around, some using cargo nets to load or unload the ships. There was no telling what cargos they carried or where the ships had travelled from. I'd read so many stories about adventures around the world. Maybe these ships had come from China or Australia or San Francisco or—

“Whoaaa!” came the driver's voice through the window and the carriage stopped.

“We're here!” Michael exclaimed as he opened the door and jumped out. I quickly followed him, anxious to catch my first look at the ship we'd be sailing on. Michael ran over to the edge of the pier.

“Is this it?” He pointed to a ship tied to the dock directly in front of us.

“I don't know.” I turned to face Mother, who was climbing down out of the carriage. “Is this it?”

“I don't think so, Helen. It looks too old, and not large enough for an expedition of this magnitude,” she answered.

The ship seemed pretty big to me, although I did agree it looked awfully old. It was a wooden sailing ship—long and thin with two huge masts towering over our heads. The rigging and ropes reached down from the masts to the deck, which sat below the level of the pier. I could just see a hint of sails furled and tucked away underneath canvas.

The carriage driver started to take down our luggage. “Wait a minute!” said Mother. “Are you sure this is the
Karluk
?”

“This is where you told me to bring you,” he answered, continuing to unload our baggage. “Pier fifty-two, berth five.”

BOOK: Trapped in Ice
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