-Forward- succeeded in getting a few minutes farther north; but,
instead of escaping the enemy, it would soon be necessary to attack
it; ice-fields of many miles in extent were drawing together, and as
these moving masses often represent a pressure of ten millions of
tons, they were obliged to take every precaution against being crushed
by them. Ice-saws were placed outside the vessel, where they could be
used without delay.
Some of the crew endured their hard toil without a murmur, but others
complained or even refused to obey orders. While they were putting the
saws in place, Garry, Bolton, Pen, and Gripper exchanged their diverse
opinions as follows.
"Deuce take it," said Bolton, cheerfully; "I don't know why it just
occurs to me that in Water Street there's a comfortable tavern, where
one might be very well off between a glass of gin and a bottle of
porter. Can you see it from here, Gripper?"
"To tell the truth," answered the sailor who had been addressed, and
who generally pretended to be very sullen, "I must say I can't see it
from here."
"That's merely your way of talking, Gripper; it is evident that, in
those snow towns which Dr. Clawbonny is always admiring, there's no
tavern where a poor sailor can moisten his throat with a drink or two
of brandy."
"You may be sure of that, Bolton; and you might add that on board of
this ship there's no way of getting properly refreshed. A strange
idea, sending people into the northern seas, and giving them nothing
to drink!"
"Well," answered Garry, "have you forgotten, Gripper, what the doctor
said? One must go without spirits if he expects to escape the scurvy,
remain in good health, and sail far."
"I don't care to sail far, Garry; and I think it's enough to have come
as far as this, and to try to get through here where the Devil doesn't
mean to let us through."
"Well, we sha'n't get through," retorted Pen. "O, when I think I have
already forgotten how gin tastes!"
"But," said Bolton, "remember what the doctor said."
"O," answered Pen, with his rough voice, "that's all very well to say!
I fancy that they are economizing it under the pretext of saving our
health."
"Perhaps that devil Pen is right," said Gripper.
"Come, come!" replied Bolton, "his nose is too red for that; and if a
little abstinence should make it a trifle paler, Pen won't need to be
pitied."
"Don't trouble yourself about my nose," was the answer, for Pen was
rather vexed. "My nose doesn't need your advice; it doesn't ask for
it; you'd better mind your own business."
"Come, don't be angry, Pen; I didn't think your nose was so tender. I
should be as glad as any one else to have a glass of whiskey,
especially on such a cold day; but if in the long run it does more
harm than good, why, I'm very willing to get along without it."
"You may get along without it," said Warren, the stoker, who had
joined them, "but it's not everybody on board who gets along without
it."
"What do you mean, Warren?" asked Garry, looking at him intently.
"I mean that for one purpose or another there is liquor aboard, and I
fancy that aft they don't get on without it."
"What do you know about it?" asked Garry.
Warren could not answer; he spoke for the sake of speaking.
"You see, Garry," continued Bolton, "that Warren knows nothing about
it."
"Well," said Pen, "we'll ask the commander for a ration of gin; we
deserve it, and we'll see what he'll say."
"I advise you not to," said Garry.
"Why not?" cried Pen and Gripper.
"Because the commander will refuse it. You knew what the conditions
were when you shipped; you ought to think of that now."
"Besides," said Bolton, who was not averse to taking Garry's side, for
he liked him, "Richard Shandon is not master; he's under orders like
the rest of us."
"Whose orders?" asked Pen.
"The captain's."
"Ah, that ridiculous captain's!" cried Pen. "Don't you know there's no
more captain than there is tavern on the ice? That's a mean way of
refusing politely what we ask for."
"But there is a captain," persisted Bolton; "and I'll wager two
months' pay that we shall see him before long."
"All right!" said Pen; "I should like to give him a piece of my mind."
"Who's talking about the captain?" said a new speaker.
It was Clifton, who was inclined to be superstitious and envious at
the same time.
"Is there any news about the captain?" he asked.
"No," a single voice answered.
"Well, I expect to find him settled in his cabin some fine morning,
and without any one's knowing how or whence he came aboard."
"Nonsense!" answered Bolton; "you imagine, Clifton, that he's an imp,
a hobgoblin such as are seen in the Scotch Highlands."
"Laugh if you want to, Bolton; that won't alter my opinion. Every day
as I pass the cabin I peep in through the keyhole, and one of these
days I'll tell you what he looks like, and how he's made."
"O, the devil!" said Pen; "he'll look like everybody else. And if he
wants to lead us where we don't want to go, we'll let him know what we
think about it."
"All right," said Bolton; "Pen doesn't know him, and wants to quarrel
with him already."
"Who doesn't know all about him?" asked Clifton, with the air of a man
who has the whole story at his tongue's end; "I should like to know
who doesn't."
"What do you mean?" asked Gripper.
"I know very well what I mean."
"But we don't."
"Well, Pen has already had trouble with him."
"With the captain?"
"Yes, the dog-captain; for it's the same thing precisely."
The sailors gazed at one another, incapable of replying.
"Dog or man," muttered Pen, between his teeth, "I'll bet he'll get his
account settled one of these days."
"Why, Clifton," asked Bolton, seriously, "do you imagine, as Johnson
said in joke, that that dog is the real captain?"
"Certainly, I do," answered Clifton, with some warmth; "and if you had
watched him as carefully as I have, you'd have noticed his strange
ways."
"What ways? Tell us."
"Haven't you noticed the way he walks up and down the poop-deck as if
he commanded the ship, keeping his eye on the sails as if he were on
watch?"
"That's so," said Gripper; "and one evening I found him with his paws
on the wheel."
[Illustration]
"Impossible!" said Bolton.
"And then," continued Clifton, "doesn't he run out at night on the
ice-fields without caring for the bears or the cold?"
"That's true," said Bolton.
"Did you ever see him making up to the men like an honest dog, or
hanging around the kitchen, and following the cook when he's carrying
a savory dish to the officers? Haven't you all heard him at night,
when he's run two or three miles away from the vessel, howling so that
he makes your blood run cold, and that's not easy in weather like
this? Did you ever seen him eat anything? He never takes a morsel from
any one; he never touches the food that's given him, and, unless some
one on board feeds him secretly, I can say he lives without eating.
Now, if that's not strange, I'm no better than a beast myself."
"Upon my word," answered Bell, the carpenter, who had heard all of
Clifton's speech, "it may be so."
But all the other sailors were silent.
"Well, as for me," continued Clifton, "I can say that if you don't
believe, there are wiser people on board who don't seem so sure."
"Do you mean the mate?" asked Bolton.
"Yes, the mate and the doctor."
"Do you think they fancy the same thing?"
"I have heard them talking about it, and they could make no more out
of it than we can; they imagined a thousand things which did not
satisfy them in the least."
"Did they say the same things about the dog that you did, Clifton?"
asked the carpenter.
"If they were not talking about the dog," answered Clifton, who was
fairly cornered, "they were talking about the captain; it's exactly
the same thing, and they confessed it was all very strange."
"Well, my friends," said Bell, "do you want to hear my opinion?"
"What is it!" they all cried.
"It is that there is not, and there will not be, any other captain
than Richard Shandon."
"And the letter?" said Clifton.
"The letter was genuine," answered Bell; "it is perfectly true that
some unknown person has equipped the -Forward- for an expedition in
the ice; but the ship once off, no one will come on board."
"Well," asked Bolton, "where is the ship going to?"
"I don't know; at the right time, Richard Shandon will get the rest of
the instructions."
"But from whom?"
"From whom?"
"Yes, in what way?" asked Bolton, who was becoming persistent.
"Come, Bell, an answer," said the other sailors.
"From whom? in what way? O, I'm sure I don't know!"
"Well, from the dog!" cried Clifton. "He has already written once, and
he can again. O, if I only knew half as much as he does, I might be
First Lord of the Admiralty!"
"So," added Bolton, in conclusion, "you persist in saying that dog is
the captain?"
"Yes, I do."
"Well," said Pen, gruffly, "if that beast doesn't want to die in a
dog's skin, he'd better hurry and turn into a man; for, on my word,
I'll finish him."
"Why so?" asked Garry.
"Because I want to," answered Pen, brutally; "and I don't care what
any one says."
"You have been talking long enough, men," shouted the boatswain,
advancing at the moment when the conversation threatened to become
dangerous; "to work, and have the saws put in quicker! We must get
through the ice."
"Good! on Friday too," answered Clifton, shrugging his shoulders. "You
won't find it so easy to cross the Polar Circle."
Whatever the reason may have been, the exertions of the crew on that
day were nearly fruitless. The -Forward-, plunging, under a full head
of steam, against the floes, could not separate them; they were
obliged to lie at anchor that night.
On Saturday, the temperature fell still lower under the influence of
an east-wind; the sky cleared up, and they all had a wide view over
the white expense, which shone brilliantly beneath the bright rays of
the sun. At seven o'clock in the morning, the thermometer stood at 8°
above zero.
The doctor was tempted to remain quietly in his cabin, or read over
the accounts of arctic journeys; but he asked himself, following his
usual habit, what would be the most disagreeable thing he could do at
that moment. He thought that to go on deck on such a cold day and help
the men would not be attractive. So, faithful to his line of conduct,
he left his well-warmed cabin, and went out to help tow the ship. He
looked strange with his green glasses, which he wore to protect his
eyes against the brilliancy of the sun, and after that he always took
good care to wear snow-spectacles as a security against the
inflammation of the eyes, which is so common in these latitudes.
[Illustration]
By evening the -Forward- had got several miles farther north, thanks
to the energy of the men and the intelligence of Shandon, who was
quick at utilizing every favorable circumstance; at midnight they
crossed the sixty-sixth parallel, and the lead announcing a depth of
twenty-three fathoms, Shandon knew that he was in the neighborhood of
the shoal on which her Majesty's ship -Victory- grounded. Land lay
thirty miles to the east.
But then the mass of ice, which had hitherto been stationary,
separated, and began to move; icebergs seemed to rise in all points of
the horizon; the brig was caught in a number of whirlpools of
irresistible force; controlling her became so hard, that Garry, the
best steersman, took the helm; the masses began to close behind the
brig, hence it was necessary to cut through the ice; both prudence and
duty commanded them to go forward. The difficulties were enhanced by
the impossibility of Shandon's fixing the direction of the brig among
all the changing points, which were continually shifting and
presenting no definite point to be aimed at.
The crew were divided into two forces, and one stationed on the
starboard, the other on the larboard side; every man was given a long
iron-headed pole, with which to ward off threatening pieces of ice.
Soon the -Forward- entered such a narrow passage between two lofty
pieces, that the ends of the yards touched its solid walls; gradually
it penetrated farther into a winding valley filled with a whirlwind of
snow, while the floating ice was crashing ominously all about.
But soon it was evident that there was no outlet to this gorge; a huge
block, caught in the channel, was floating swiftly down to the
-Forward-; it seemed impossible to escape it, and equally impossible
to return through an already closed path.
Shandon and Johnson, standing on the forward deck, were viewing their
position. Shandon with his right hand signalled to the man at the
wheel what direction he was to take, and with his left hand he
indicated to James Wall the orders for the engines.
"What will be the end of this?" asked the doctor of Johnson.
"What pleases God," answered the boatswain.
The block of ice, eight hundred feet high, was hardly more than a
cable's length from the -Forward-, and threatened to crush it.
Pen broke out with a fearful oath.
"Silence!" cried a voice which it was impossible to recognize in the
roar of the hurricane.
The mass appeared to be falling upon the brig, and there was an
indefinable moment of terror; the men, dropping their poles, ran aft
in spite of Shandon's orders.
Suddenly, a terrible noise was heard; a real water-spout fell on the
deck of the brig, which was lifted in the air by a huge wave. The crew
uttered a cry of terror, while Garry, still firm at the wheel, kept
the course of the -Forward- steady, in spite of the fearful lurch.
[Illustration]
And when they looked for the mountain of ice, it had disappeared; the
passage was free, and beyond, a long channel, lit up by the sun,
allowed the brig to continue her advance.
"Well, Dr. Clawbonny," said Johnson, "can you explain that?"
"It's very simple, my friend," answered the doctor. "It happens very
often; when these floating masses get detached in a thaw, they float
away in perfect equilibrium; but as they get towards the south, where
the water is relatively warmer, their base, eaten away by running into
other pieces, begins to melt, and be undermined; then comes a moment
when the centre of gravity is displaced, and they turn upside down.
Only, if this had happened two minutes later, it would have fallen on
the brig and crushed us beneath it."
[Illustration]
CHAPTER IX.
ANOTHER LETTER.
The Polar Circle was crossed at last; on the 30th of April, at midday,
the -Forward- passed by Holsteinborg; picturesque mountains arose in
the east. The sea appeared almost free of ice, or, more exactly, the
ice could be avoided. The wind was from the southeast, and the brig,
under foresail, staysail, and topsails, sailed up Baffin's Bay.
That day was exceptionally calm and the crew was able to get some
rest; numerous birds were swimming and flying about the ship; among
others, the doctor noticed some wild birds which were very like teal,
with black neck, wings, and back, and a white breast; they were
continually diving, and often remained more than forty seconds under
water.
This day would not have been marked by any new incident, if the
following extraordinary fact had not taken place.
At six o'clock in the morning, on returning to his cabin after his
watch was over, Richard Shandon found on his table a letter, addressed
as follows:--
-To- COMMANDER RICHARD SHANDON,
On board the -Forward-,
BAFFIN'S BAY.
[Illustration]
Shandon could not believe his eyes; but before reading it, he summoned
the doctor, James Wall, and the boatswain, and showed them the letter.
"It's getting interesting," said Johnson.
"It's delightful," thought the doctor.
"Well," cried Shandon, "at last we shall know his secret."
He tore open the envelope rapidly, and read the following:--
COMMANDER: The captain of the -Forward- is satisfied with the
coolness, skill, and courage which the crew, officers, and you,
yourself, have shown of late; he begs of you to express his thanks to
the crew.
Be good enough to sail due north towards Melville Bay, and thence try
to penetrate into Smith's Sound.
K. Z.,
-Captain of the Forward-.
Monday, April 30, OFF CAPE WALSINGHAM.
"And is that all?" cried the doctor.
"That's all," answered Shandon.
The letter fell from his hands.
"Well," said Wall, "this imaginary captain says nothing about coming
on board. I don't believe he ever will."
"But how did this letter get here?" asked Johnson.
Shandon was silent.
"Mr. Wall is right," answered the doctor, who had picked up the
letter, and who was turning it over with hands as well as in his mind.
"The captain won't come on board, and for an excellent reason."
"What is it?" asked Shandon, quickly.
"Because he's on board now," answered the doctor, simply.
"Now!" exclaimed Shandon, "what do you mean?"
"How else can you explain the arrival of this letter?"
Johnson nodded approvingly.
"Impossible!" said Shandon, warmly. "I know all the men in the crew;
can he have smuggled himself into their number since we left? It's
impossible, I tell you. For more than two years I've seen every one of
them more than a hundred times in Liverpool; so your conjecture,
Doctor, is untenable."
"Well, what do you admit, Shandon?"
"Everything, except that. I admit that the captain or some tool of
his, for all I know, may have taken advantage of the darkness, the
mist, or whatever you please, to slip on board; we are not far from
shore; there are the kayaks of the Esquimaux which could get through
the ice without our seeing them; so some one may have come on board
the ship, left the letter,--the fog was thick enough to make this
possible."
"And to prevent them from seeing the brig," answered the doctor; "if
we didn't see the intruder slip aboard the -Forward-, how could he see
the -Forward- in the fog?"
"That's true," said Johnson.
"So I return to my explanation," said the doctor; "what do you think
of it, Shandon?"
"Whatever you please," answered Shandon, hotly, "except that the man
is on board."
"Perhaps," added Wall, "there is some man in the crew who is acting
under his instructions."
"Perhaps," said the doctor.
"But who can it be?" asked Shandon. "I've known all my men for a long
time."
"At any rate," resumed Johnson, "if this captain presents himself,
whether as man or devil, we shall receive him; but there's something
else to be drawn from this letter."
"What is that?" asked Shandon.
"It is that we must go not only into Melville Bay, but also into
Smith's Sound."
"You are right," said the doctor.
"Smith's Sound," repeated Shandon, mechanically.
"So it's very plain," continued Johnson, "that the -Forward- is not
intended to seek the Northwest Passage, since we leave to the left,
the only way towards it, that is to say, Lancaster Sound. This would
seem to promise a difficult journey in unknown seas."
"Yes, Smith's Sound," replied Shandon; "that's the route Kane, the
American, took in 1853, and it was full of dangers. For a long time he
was given up for lost. Well, if we must go, we'll go. But how far? To
the Pole?"
"And why not?" cried the doctor.
The mention of such a foolhardy attempt made the boatswain shrug his
shoulders.
"Well," said James Wall, "to come back to the captain, if he exists. I
don't see that there are any places on the coast of Greenland except
Disco and Upernavik, where he can be waiting for us; in a few days
that question will be settled."
"But," asked the doctor of Shandon, "are you not going to tell the
crew about this letter?"
"With the commander's permission," answered Johnson, "I should not do
so."
"And why not?" asked Shandon.
"Because everything mysterious and extraordinary tends to discourage
the men; they are already very much troubled, as it is, about the
nature of the journey. Now, if any supernatural circumstances should
become known, it might be harmful, and perhaps at a critical moment we
should not be able to count on them. What do you think, Commander?"
"And what do you think, Doctor?" asked Shandon.
"Boatswain Johnson seems to me to reason well," answered the doctor.
"And you, James?"
"Having no better opinion, I agree with these gentlemen."
Shandon reflected for a few minutes; he reread the letter attentively.
"Gentlemen," said he, "your opinion is certainly worthy of respect,
but I cannot adopt it."
"Why not, Shandon?" asked the doctor.
"Because the instructions in this letter are formal; it tells me to
give the captain's thanks to the crew; now, hitherto I have strictly
obeyed his orders, in whatever way they have been given to me, and I
cannot--"
"Still--" interposed Johnson, who had a warrantable dread of the
effect of such communications on the men's spirits.
"My dear Johnson," said Shandon, "I understand your objection; your
reasons are very good, but read that:--
"He begs of you to express his thanks to the crew."
"Do as he bids," replied Johnson, who was always a strict
disciplinarian. "Shall I assemble the crew on deck?"
"Yes," answered Shandon.
The news of a message from the captain was immediately whispered
throughout the ship. The sailors took their station without delay, and
the commander read aloud the mysterious letter.
It was received with dead silence; the crew separated under the
influence of a thousand suppositions; Clifton had plenty of material
for any superstitious vagaries; a great deal was ascribed by him to
the dog-captain, and he never failed to salute him every time he met
him.
"Didn't I tell you," he used to say to the sailors, "that he knew how
to write?"
No one made any answer, and even Bell, the carpenter, would have found
it hard to reply.
Nevertheless, it was plain to every one, that if the captain was not
on board, his shade or spirit was watching them; henceforth, the
wisest kept their opinions to themselves.
At midday of May 1st, their observation showed them that they were in
latitude 68° and longitude 56° 32'. The temperature had risen, the
thermometer standing at 25° above zero.
The doctor amused himself with watching the gambols of a she-bear and
two cubs on some pack-ice near the shore. Accompanied by Wall and
Simpson, he tried to chase them in a canoe; but she was in a very
peaceful mood, and ran away with her young, so that the doctor had to
give up his attempt.
[Illustration]
During the night a favorable breeze carried them well to the north,
and soon the lofty mountains of Disco were peering above the horizon;
Godharn Bay, where the governor of the Danish settlements lived, was
left on the right. Shandon did not consider it necessary to land, and
he soon passed by the canoes of the Esquimaux, who had put out to meet
him.
The island of Disco is also called Whale Island; it is from here that,
on the 12th of July, 1845, Sir John Franklin wrote to the Admiralty
for the last time, and it was also here that Captain MacClintock
stopped on his way back, bringing too sure proofs of the loss of that
expedition.
This coincidence was not unknown to the doctor; the place was one of
sad memories, but soon the heights of Disco were lost to view.
There were many icebergs on its shores, which no thaws ever melt away;
this gives the island a singular appearance from the sea.
The next day, at about three o'clock, Sanderson's Hope appeared in the
northeast; land lay about fifteen miles to starboard; the mountains
appeared of a dusky red hue. During the evening many fin-backs were
seen playing in the ice, and occasionally blowing.
[Illustration]
It was in the night of May 3d, that the doctor for the first time saw
the sun touch the horizon without setting; since January 31st its
orbit had been getting longer every day, and now there was unbroken
daylight.
For those who were unaccustomed to it, this continuance of the day is
a cause of perpetual surprise, and even of weariness; it is difficult
to believe how necessary the darkness of the night is for the eyes;
the doctor actually suffered from the continual brilliancy, which was
increased by the reflection from the ice.
May 5th the -Forward- passed the sixty-second parallel. Two months
later they would have met numerous whalers in these latitudes; but the
straits were not yet free enough to allow easy ingress into Baffin's
Bay.
The next day, the brig, after passing Woman's Island, came in sight of
Upernavik, the northernmost station of Denmark in these lands.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER X.
DANGEROUS SAILING.
Shandon, Dr. Clawbonny, Johnson, Foker, and Strong, the cook, got into
one of the boats and made their way to shore.
The Governor, his wife and five children, all Esquimaux, received
their visitors kindly. The doctor, who was the philologist of the
party, knew enough Danish to establish friendly relations; moreover,
Foker, the interpreter of the party as well as ice-master, knew a
dozen or two words of the language of the Greenlanders, and with that
number of words one can express a great deal, if he is not too
ambitious.
[Illustration]
The Governor was born on the island of Disco, and he has never left
the place; he did the honors of his capital, which consisted of three
wooden houses, for himself and the Lutheran minister, of a school, and
shops which were supplied by what was cast upon the shore from wrecked
ships. The rest of the town consisted of snow huts, into which the
Esquimaux crawl through a single opening.
A great part of the population came out to meet the -Forward-, and
more than one of them went as far as the middle of the bay in his
kayak, fifteen feet long and two broad at the widest part.
The doctor knew that the word Esquimaux meant "eater of raw fish"; but
he knew too that this name is considered an insult in this country, so
he forbore giving it to the inhabitants of Greenland.
And yet, from the oily sealskin clothes and boots, from their squat,
fat figures, which make it hard to distinguish the men from the women,
it was easy to declare the nature of their food; besides, like all
fish-eating people, they were somewhat troubled by leprosy, but their
general health was not impaired by it.
The Lutheran minister and his wife, with whom the doctor had promised
himself an interesting talk, happened to be away on the shore of
Proven, south of Upernavik; hence he was compelled to seek the company
of the Governor. The chief magistrate did not appear to be very well
informed: a little less, he would have been a fool; a little more, and
he would have known how to read.
In spite of that, the doctor questioned him about the commerce,
habits, and manners of the Esquimaux; and he learned, by means of
gestures, that the seals were worth about forty pounds when delivered
at Copenhagen; a bear-skin brought forty Danish dollars, the skin of a
blue fox four, and of a white fox two or three dollars.
In order to make his knowledge complete, the doctor wanted to visit an
Esquimaux hut; a man who seeks information is capable of enduring
anything; fortunately the opening of these huts was too small, and the
enthusiastic doctor could not get through. It was fortunate for him,
for there is nothing more repulsive than the sight of that crowd of
living and dead objects, of seal's bodies and Esquimaux-flesh, decayed
fish and unclean clothing, which fill a Greenland hut; there is no
window to renew that suffocating air; there is only a hole at the top
of the cabin which lets the smoke out, but gives no relief to the
stench.
[Illustration: "Fortunately the opening of these huts was too small,
and the enthusiastic doctor could not get through."]
Foker gave all these details to the doctor, but he none the less
bewailed his portliness. He wanted to judge for himself these
emanations -sui generis-.
"I am sure," said he, "that one could get used to it in time." -In
time- shows clearly the doctor's character.
During these ethnographic studies on his part, Shandon was busying
himself, according to his instructions, with procuring means of travel
on the ice; he was obliged to pay four pounds for a sledge and six
dogs, and the natives were reluctant to sell even at this price.
[Illustration]
Shandon would have liked to engage Hans Christian, the skilful driver
of the dogs, who accompanied Captain MacClintock, but Hans was then in
Southern Greenland.
Then came up the great question of the day; was there at Upernavik a
European awaiting the arrival of the -Forward-? Did the Governor know
of any stranger, probably an Englishman, who had come into these
latitudes? How recently had they seen any whalers or other ships?
To these questions the Governor answered that no stranger had landed
on that part of the coast for more than ten months.
Shandon asked the names of the whalers which had last arrived; he
recognized none. He was in despair.
"You must confess, Doctor, that it passes all comprehension," he said
to his companion. "Nothing at Cape Farewell! nothing at Disco! nothing
at Upernavik!"
"Tell me in a few days from now, nothing at Melville Bay, my dear
Shandon, and I will salute you as sole captain of the -Forward-."
The boat returned to the brig towards evening, bringing back the
visitors to the shore; Strong had bought several dozen eider-duck's
eggs, which were twice as large as hen's eggs, and of a greenish
color. It was not much, but it was very refreshing for a crew
accustomed to little but salt meat.
The next day the wind was fair, but yet Shandon did not set sail; he
wanted to wait another day, and, to satisfy his conscience, to give
time for any member of the human race to rejoin the -Forward-; he even
fired off, every hour, the ship's gun, which re-echoed among the
icebergs; but he only succeeded in frightening the flocks of
molly-mokes[1] and rotches.[1] During the night many rockets were set
off; but in vain. He had to give the order to set sail.
[Footnote 1: Sea-birds common in these latitudes.]
The 8th of May, at six o'clock in the morning, the -Forward-, under
her topsails, foresail, and main-top-gallant-sail, soon lost sight of
the station of Upernavik, and hideous long poles on which were hanging
along the shore the seals' entrails and deers' stomachs.
The wind was southeast, the thermometer stood at 32°. The sun pierced
through the fog and the ice melted a little.
The reflection, however, injured the sight of many of the crew.
Wolston, the armorer, Gripper, Clifton, and Bell were attacked by
snow-blindness, which is very common in the spring, and which totally
blinds many of the Esquimaux. The doctor advised all, the unharmed as
well as the suffering, to cover their faces with a green veil, and he
was the first to follow his own recommendation.
The dogs bought by Shandon at Upernavik were rather wild; but they
soon got used to their new quarters, and Captain showed no dislike of
his new companions; he seemed to know their ways. Clifton was not the
last to remark that Captain seemed to be familiar with the dogs of
Greenland. And they, always half starved on shore, only thought of
making up for it when at sea.
The 9th of May the -Forward- passed within a few cable-lengths of the
westernmost of the Baffin Islands. The doctor noticed many rocks
between the islands and the mainland which were what are called
crimson cliffs; they were covered with snow as red as carmine, which
Dr. Kane says is of purely vegetable origin; Clawbonny wanted to
examine this singular phenomenon, but the ice forbade their
approaching them; although the temperature was rising, it was easy to
see that the icebergs and ice-streams were accumulating toward the
north of Baffin's Bay.
After leaving Upernavik the land presented a different appearance, and
huge glaciers were sharply defined against the gray horizon. On the
10th the -Forward- left on its right Kingston Bay, near the
seventy-fourth degree of latitude; Lancaster Sound opened into the sea
many hundred miles to the west.
But then this vast expanse of water was hidden beneath enormous fields
of ice, in which arose the hummocks, uniform as a homogeneous
crystallization. Shandon had the furnace-fires lighted, and until the
11th of May the -Forward- advanced by a tortuous course, tracing with
her smoke against the sky the path she was following through the
water.
But new obstacles soon presented themselves; the passages were closing
in consequence of the incessant crowding of the floating masses; every
moment threatened to close up the clear water before the -Forward-,
and if she were nipped, it would be hard to get her out. Every one
knew it and was thinking about it.
Hence, on board of this ship without any definite aim, any known
destination, which was blindly pushing on northward, some symptoms of
hesitation began to appear; among these men accustomed to dangers,
many, forgetting the advantages which were promised them, regretted
having ventured so far. A certain demoralization became common, which
was further increased by the fears of Clifton and the talk of two or
three ringleaders, such as Pen, Gripper, Warren, and Wolston.
Exhausting fatigue was added to the moral disquiet of the crew, for,
on the 12th of May, the brig was caught fast; the steam was of no
avail. A path had to be cut through the ice. It was no easy task to
manage the saws in the floes which were six or seven feet thick; when
two parallel grooves had divided the ice for a hundred feet, it was
necessary to break the part that lay between with axes and bars; next
they had to fasten anchors in a hole made by a huge auger; then the
crew would turn the capstan and haul the ship along by the force of
their arms; the greatest difficulty consisted in driving the detached
pieces beneath the floes, so as to give space for the vessel, and they
had to be pushed under by means of long iron-headed poles.
[Illustration]
Moreover, this continued toil with saws, capstan, and poles, all of
which was persistent, compulsory, and dangerous, amid the dense fog or
snow, while the air was so cold, and their eyes so exposed, their
doubt so great, did much to weaken the crew of the -Forward- and to
act on their imagination.
When sailors have to deal with a man who is energetic, bold, and
determined, who knows what he wants, whither he is going, what aim he
has in view, confidence animates them all in spite of themselves; they
are firmly united to their leader, strong with his force and calm with
his calmness. But on board of the brig they were aware of the
commander's uncertainty, they knew that he hesitated before the
unknown aim and destination. In spite of the energy of his character,
his uncertainty was clearly to be seen by his uncertain orders,
incomplete manoeuvres, his sudden outbursts, and a thousand petty
details which could not escape the sharp eyes of the crew.
And then, Shandon was not the captain of the ship, the master under
God, which was enough to encourage the discussion of his orders; and
from discussion to disobedience is but a short step.
The malcontents soon brought over to their number the first engineer,
who, hitherto, had been a slave to his duty.
The 16th of May, six days after the -Forward- had reached the ice,
Shandon had not made two miles to northward. They were threatened with
being detained in the ice until the next season. Matters had a serious
look.
Towards eight o'clock of the evening, Shandon and the doctor,
accompanied by Garry, went out to reconnoitre the vast plains; they
took care not to go too far from the ship, for it was hard to find any
fixed points in this white solitude, which was ever changing in
appearance. Refraction kept producing strange effects, much to the
doctor's astonishment; at one place, where he thought he had but an
easy jump before him, he had to leap some five or six feet; or else
the contrary happened, and in either case the result was a tumble,
which if not dangerous was at any rate painful, for the ice was as
hard and slippery as glass.
Shandon and his two companions went out to seek a possible passage;
three miles from the ship, they succeeded with some difficulty in
ascending an iceberg about three hundred feet high. From that point
nothing met their eyes but a confused mass, like the ruins of a vast
city, with shattered monuments, overthrown towers, and prostrate
palaces,--a real chaos. The sun was just peering above the jagged
horizon, and sent forth long, oblique rays of light, but not of heat,
as if something impassable for heat lay between it and this wild
country.
[Illustration]
The sea appeared perfectly covered as far as eye could reach.
"How shall we get through?" asked the doctor.
"I don't know," answered Shandon; "but we shall get through, if we
have to blow our way through with powder. I certainly sha'n't stay in
the ice till next spring."
"But that happened to the -Fox-, and not far from here. Bah!" said the
doctor; "we shall get through with a little philosophy. You will see
that is worth all the machinery in the world."
"I must say," answered Shandon, "this year does not begin very well."
"True, Shandon, and I notice also that Baffin's Bay seems to be
returning to the state it was in before 1817."
"Don't you think, Doctor, it has always been as it is now?"
"No, my dear Shandon, from time to time there have been great
breakings of the ice which no one can explain; so, up to 1817 this sea
was continually full, when an enormous sort of inundation took place,
which cast the icebergs into the ocean, most of which reached the
banks of Newfoundland. From that day Baffin's Bay was nearly free, and
was visited by whalers."
"So," asked Shandon, "from that time voyages to the North became
easier?"
"Incomparably; but for some years it has been noticed that the bay
seems to be resuming its old ways and threatens to become closed,
possibly for a long time, to sailors. An additional reason, by the
way, for pushing on as far as possible. And yet it must be said, we
look like people who are pushing on in unknown ways, with the doors
forever closing behind us."
"Would you advise me to go back?" asked Shandon, trying to read into
the depths of the doctor's eyes.
"I! I have never retreated yet, and, even if we should never get back,
I say go on. Still, I want to make it clear that if we act
imprudently, we do it with our eyes open."
"And you, Garry, what do you think about it?" asked Shandon of the
sailor.
"I, Commander, should go straight on; I agree with Dr. Clawbonny; but
do as you please; command, we shall obey."
"They don't all talk as you do, Garry," resumed Shandon; "they are not
all ready to obey. And if they refuse to obey my orders?"
"I have given you my opinion, Commander," answered Garry, coldly,
"because you asked for it; but you are not obliged to follow it."
Shandon did not answer; he scanned the horizon closely, and then
descended with his companions to the ice-fields.
CHAPTER XI.
THE DEVIL'S THUMB.
During the commander's absence the men had been variously busied in
attempts to relieve the ship from the pressure of the ice. Pen,
Clifton, Bolton, Gripper, and Simpson had this in charge; the fireman
and the two engineers came to the aid of their comrades, for, as soon
as the engines did not require their attention, they became sailors,
and as such could be employed in all that was going on aboard the
ship.
But there was a great deal of discontent among them.
"I declare I've had enough," said Pen; "and if we are not free in
three days, I swear I sha'n't stir a finger to get the ship out."
"Not stir a finger!" answered Plover; "you'd better use them in
getting back. Do you think we want to stay here till next year?"
"It certainly would be a hard winter," said Pen, "for we are exposed
on all sides."
"And who knows," said Brunton, "whether next spring the sea will be
any freer than it is now?"
"Never mind about next spring," answered Pen; "to-day is Thursday; if
the way is not clear Sunday morning, we shall turn back to the south."
"Good!" cried Clifton.
"Don't you agree with me?" asked Pen.
"We do," cried his companions.
"That's so," said Warren; "for if we have to work in this way and haul
the ship along with our own arms, I think it would be as well to haul
her backwards."
"We shall do that on Sunday," said Wolston.
"Only give me the order," resumed Brunton, "and my fires shall be
lighted."
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