Page 11 of Arctic Adventures

carrying out ice anchors, and working the windlass. We lookedanxiously ahead, for the lane was becoming closer and closer, and itseemed not impossible that we should be compelled to form a dock to savethe ship from being nipped. Saws were got ready, and every otherpreparation made for cutting a space in the ice sufficient to hold theship. At length the captain seeing that the pool itself wascontracting, gave the word to commence the work. All hands wererequired for the task, some used the saws, and others hauled away theblocks as they were cut out. It was hard work, but no one grumbled, asour lives might depend upon our getting it accomplished in time.Scarcely was it finished, than the floes closed, not with such force aswe expected, but with quite enough to have crushed our stout ship into apancake. Instead of such being the case, we floated free from harm inthe basin we had formed. Here we were doomed to lie until the iceshould open again and set us free. Some dark objects, which we guessedwere seals, were seen on the edge of the pool. To employ our time, weset off to try and kill some of them.

  Ewen had been eager to distinguish himself as a harpooner, and he and Iwent together. Observing a couple of seals, we crawled towards them socautiously, that we got near enough, without waking them, to dart ourweapons. As we rose to our feet, I struck mine with all my force intothe head of the animal nearest me, almost pinning it to the ice. Ewenwas not so fortunate, for although he fixed his harpoon into theanimal's body, before he had time to take a turn with the line round arough point of ice near at hand, the seal plunged into the water, andhe, holding on to the rope, was dragged after it.

  I shouted out to him to let go, which, as may be supposed, he rightwillingly did, and fortunately was able to catch hold of my line which Ithrew to him, when I hauled him up safe again on the ice. His firstimpulse was to look over the edge, hoping to recover the line, but that,with the harpoon, had disappeared.

  "Thank you, Hugh, for saving my life," he said, "but I wish you couldhave caught the harpoon and line, for I shall be laughed at as abungler."

  I did my best to console him, and Sandy, who soon afterwards came up,assured him that many a now famed walrus and seal hunter had commencedhis career with equal want of success.

  Several other seals had been killed, and the rest having been frightenedaway, as there was no chance of capturing any more, we commenced ourreturn, Ewen assisting me in dragging our prize to the boat. A fewhours after we got on board, once more the ice opened, and all sailbeing made we stood on, our hopes renewed of being able to capture asmany whales as we required.

  "We shall have a full ship!" cried the captain, rubbing his hands as welay in the pool with a whale on each side, which had been killed withinan hour after we reached the open water. Others were spouting in alldirections, and two boats being away, it was hoped that we should have acouple of fish ready to take the place of the others, the moment theflensing was finished. But as I had already seen the rapid way in whichthe ice changes its position in those regions, I was not too sanguine.Scarcely had the blubber from the two whales been stored below, than theice was seen to be moving, and as the boats were towing up a thirdwhale, it began to close in on us, the large pool becoming a broad lane,while other channels disappeared altogether. Notwithstanding this thewhale was brought alongside, and every effort was made to flense itrapidly. Still the ice was coming closer and closer. A favourablebreeze just then sprang up, and a narrow lead which ran towards anexpansive pool opened out before us. By remaining where we were wemight get crushed before we could flense the whale, and with greatreluctance the captain ordered it to be cast off and sail made.

  We had not got a quarter of a mile, when, looking astern, we saw thatthe spot where we had floated was one sheet of ice.

  "Better luck, next time," said our skipper, who was always anxious toencourage the men.

  That luck however was not for us. The lead as we advanced becameblocked up with floating masses, some of them monster icebergs, amidwhich we forced our way until the wind dropped.

  The boats were now sent ahead, some to tow, others to shove away withlong poles the ice which impeded our progress. At length we reached anice hole, when the boats being hoisted on board, we made sail, hoping tofind a lead on the opposite side, but we were to be disappointed--noopening could be discovered.

  We, as usual, made fast to a floe, and the captain after a visit to thecrow's nest, expressed his intention of returning southward.

  The announcement was received with a cheer by the crew, but there was nowind, and we had to wait for a breeze to carry us back the way we hadcome. That way was, however, no longer open: the pools were lesseningin size, and in a few hours not a single spot of clear water could beseen.

  Again and again the crow's nest was visited, but each time the samereport was brought. It was very evident that we were closely beset.Still our brave captain did not despair, and promised that, should theice open again, it would not be his fault if the ship failed to make herway through it.

  The object of the voyage, for the time, was entirely forgotten, all wethought of was to effect our escape. Never for a minute night or daywas the crow's nest empty, some one being always on the look-out toreport the state of the ice. I frequently went aloft. Ice alone wasvisible in whichever way I looked: here piled into immense masses, hugefragments of glaciers detached from the neighbouring shores either ofGreenland or Spitzbergen; there broken hummocky slabs resting againsteach other in every variety of form; or else vast level plains, overwhich it appeared that a sleigh might travel for miles withoutimpediment; but water there was none, and I could scarcely hope thatthat frozen expanse would ever again break up sufficiently to allow usto force our way through. We knew that at all events we should have toencounter, to the southward, the numberless icebergs and the dense floesthrough which we had before passed. Had we found my brother David Ifancied that I should have been happy, but his fate was still shroudedin mystery, and even if we escaped we should have to return without him.

  The sun now remained between two and three hours below the horizon, but,short as was the night, the holes we had bored to obtain water werefrozen over in the morning. Still we hoped that an equinoctial stormmight break up the ice-fields and set us free. Before, however, we hadbeen many days in this position, a dark streak was seen to thesouthward.

  "There's water there," observed the captain with confidence in his tone;"it may be the open ocean."

  Almost immediately afterwards other tracks were seen indicating leadsthrough the ice, and at length some appeared so near that the captaindetermined to open a passage through our floe to reach them by blastingand sawing. Hope revived within us that we should get through.Laborious as was the process, we persevered. Every fathom gained madeus fancy that we were so much nearer liberty. The wished-for storm atlength began to blow; the ice broke up. All the sail the ship couldbear was spread, and away we steered with her head to the southward.What cared we now for the thundering blows received on her stout bows.We were determined to be free. Freedom we believed we should obtain,when to our dismay the first mate, who had gone aloft, announced a densefloe with icebergs ahead: to run against, it would have ensured ourdestruction, and we were compelled to steer to leeward of a floe, when,furling all sail, we made fast to it. The wind falling, a dense fogcame on. The sounds which reached us showed that the ice was still inviolent commotion, and, in the hopes that a passage might be found, thecaptain dispatched two of the boats to try and find a way.

  I went with the first mate. We had gone some distance, when heannounced that he saw an opening, and immediately headed the boattowards it. Looking up we could see a huge iceberg towering above ourheads. We had great hopes that we had entered a lane through which theship might pass, but the thickness of the atmosphere prevented us fromseeing far ahead. The mate however was convinced that he was right, andwe were about to put back when again the wind began to blow with aviolence far greater than before, and the sea tossed and tumbled, movingthe mass of ice about in a manner which threatened our destruction. Thet
urbulence of the waters proved that the mate was correct in regard tothere being an open sea to the southward, and we bent to our oars withall our strength, that we might return to the ship, and take advantageof the opening.

  I remember that we were passing close under an iceberg, when I heard aterrific crash, and all was dark, and I knew that I was beneath thewater. By a violent effort I rose to the surface, and the next instantfound I was clinging to the ice. The force of the sea threw me stillfurther on the berg until I was beyond the reach of the waves.

  My position was awful in the extreme. The snow began to fall, drivingagainst me with fearful force. I looked round but could nowhere see theboat or my companions. I alone had been saved from instant death, toperish, I believed, in a more lingering manner.

  I expected ere long to drop off into the sea or to be frozen to death,still I resolved to struggle for life. How the time passed I could notjudge. Every