CHAPTER IV
ADRIFT
Jack Cosgrove, of the "Nautilus," was not often agitated by anythingin which he became involved. Few of his perilous calling had gonethrough more thrilling experiences than he, and in them all he hadacquired a reputation for coolness that could not be surpassed.
But one of the few occasions that stirred him to the heart was whenhurrying to disembark from the iceberg, in the desperate hope ofreaching the ship before the bursting of the gale and the closing ofnight, he found that the little boat had been swept from itsfastenings, and the only means of escape was cut off.
There was more in the incident than occurred to Rob Carrol and FredWarburton, who hastened after him. He had been in those latitudesbefore, and the reader will recall the story Captain McAlpine told tothe boys of the time Jack was one of three who escaped from thecollision of the whaling ship with an iceberg in the gloom of a darknight.
Had it been earlier in the day, and had no storm been impending, hecould have afforded to laugh at this mishap, for at the most, it wouldhave resulted in a temporary inconvenience only. The skipper wouldhave discovered their plight sooner or later, and sent another boat tobring them off, but the present case was a hundred-fold more seriousin every aspect.
In the first place, the fierce disturbance of the elements wouldcompel Captain McAlpine to give all attention to the care of his ship.That was of more importance than the little party on the iceberg, whomust be left to themselves for the time, since any effort to reachthem would endanger the vessel, the loss of which meant the loss ofeverything, including the little company that found itself in suddenand dire peril.
What might take place during the storm and darkness his imaginationshuddered to picture. Had the boat been found where he left it a shorttime before, desperate rowing would have carried them to the"Nautilus" in time to escape the full force of the storm. That wasimpossible now, and as to the future who could say?
The rowboat, as will be remembered, was simply drawn a short distanceup the icy incline, where it ought to have remained until the returnof the party. Such would have been the fact under ordinarycircumstances, for the mighty bulk of the iceberg prevented it feelingthe shock of any disturbance that could take place in its majesticsweep through the Arctic Ocean, except from its base striking thebottom of the sea, or a readjustment of its equilibrium, as they hadobserved in the case of the smaller berg. It might crush the "GreatEastern" if it lay in its path, but that would have been like a wagonpassing over an egg-shell.
In leaving the boat as related, the stern lay in the water. Even thenit would have been secure, but for the agitation caused by the cominggale. That began swaying the rear of the craft, whose support was sosmooth that it speedily worked down the incline and floating into theopen water instantly worked off beyond reach.
The boys knowing so little what all this meant and what was beforethem, were disposed to make light of their misfortune.
"By the great horned spoon, but that is bad!" exclaimed Jack, pointingout on the water, where the boat was seen bobbing on the rising waves,fully a hundred yards away, with the distance rapidly increasing.
It seems as if in the few minutes intervening, night had fullydescended. The wind had risen to a gale, and, even at that shortdistance the little craft was fast growing indistinct in the gatheringgloom.
"It isn't very pleasant," replied Rob, "but it might be worse."
"I should like to know how it could be worse," said the sailor,turning reprovingly toward him; "I wonder if I can do it."
The last words were uttered to himself, and he hastily laid down hisgun on the ice by his side. Then he began taking off his outer coat.
"What do you mean to do?" asked the amazed Fred.
"I believe I can swim out to the boat and bring it back," was thereply, as he continued preparations.
"You musn't think of such a thing," protested Rob; "the water is coldenough to freeze you to death. If you can't reach it, you will have tocome back to us, with your clothing frozen stiff, and nothing willsave you from perishing."
"I'll chance that," said Jack, who, however, continued hispreparations more deliberately, and with his eye still on the recedingboat.
He was about to take the icy plunge, in the last effort to savehimself and friends, when he stopped, and, straightening up, watchedthe craft for a few seconds.
"No," said he, "it can't be done; the thing is drifting faster than Ican swim."
Such was the evident fact. While the vast mass of ice, as has beenexplained elsewhere, was under the impulse of a mighty under-current,the small craft was swept away by the surface current which flowed inthe opposite direction.
Even while the party looked, the boat faded from sight in the gloom.
"I can't see it," said Rob, who, like the others, was peering intentlyinto the darkness.
"Nor I either," added Fred.
"And what's more, you'll never see it again," commented Jack, whobegan slowly donning his outer garments; "younkers, I've been in agood many bad scraps in my life, and more than once would have sworn Iwas booked for Davy Jones' locker, but this is a little the worst of'em all."
His young friends looked wonderingly at him, unable to understand thecause of such extreme depression on the part of one whom they knew tobe among the bravest of men, and in a situation that did not strikethem as specially threatening.
"Don't you think this iceberg will hold together until morning?" askedRob.
"It'll hold together for months," was the answer, "and like enoughwill travel hundreds of miles through the Gulf Stream before it goesto nothing."
"Then we are sure of a ship to keep us from drowning."
"I aint meaning that," said Jack, who was rapidly recovering hisequanimity, though it was plain he was strongly affected by the wofulturn the adventure had taken.
"And," added Fred, "Captain McAlpine knows where we are; he willremain in the neighborhood until morning--"
"How do you know he will?" broke in Jack, impatiently.
"What's to hinder him?" asked Fred, in turn, startled by the abruptquestion; "he knows how to sail the 'Nautilus,' and has taken itthrough many gales worse than this."
"How do you know he has?"
"Gracious, Jack, I don't know anything about it; I am only saying whatappears to me to be the truth."
"I don't want to hurt your feelings, lads, but I can't help saying youdon't know what you're talking about. A couple of young land lubberslike you don't see things as they show themselves to one who was bornand has lived all his life on the ocean, as you may say. I don't meanto scare you more than I oughter, but you can just make up your minds,my hearties, that you never was in such a fix as this, and if you liveto be a hundred years old you'll never be in another half as bad."
These were alarming words, but, inasmuch as Jack did not accompanythem with any explanation, neither Rob nor Fred were as much impressedas they would have been had he explained the grounds for his extremefear. What they saw was an enforced stay on the iceberg until thefollowing day. Although in a high latitude, the night was notunusually long, and, though it was certain to be as uncomfortable ascan well be imagined, they had no doubt they would survive it and liveto laugh at their mishap.