moment seemed an hour. Looking round, the fall of snowseemed lessened, and I caught sight of the ship. It appeared to me inthe indistinct light that she was being dashed furiously against theberg, and that her destruction was inevitable. Should she founder Iknew that my chance of life was slight indeed. I felt inclined to slipoff and terminate my suffering at once, rather than attempt to cling onuntil overpowered by the cold; but I felt that it was my duty to prolongmy existence to the last, and I did my best to secure myself by placingmy feet on a ledge below me. I was conscious, however, that my mentaland physical powers were both failing me. I looked for the ship, butcould nowhere see her. Had she, with my brother and all hands,foundered? Such appeared too probable. Dreadful was the thought. Iwas fast sinking into insensibility when I heard a hail, and on lookingdown saw Sandy with an ice-pole in his hand, clambering up the bergtowards me. In another moment his arm was around my waist, and I knewno more until I found myself in the boat and heard my preserver shout--
"Shove off, lads, he'll come round in time."
Opening my eyes I saw that the boat was pulling away from the berg, butI could nowhere perceive the ship. Were my fears then for her realised?I wanted to ask Sandy, but it seemed as if the power to speak had leftme. Again and again I tried, but my lips refused to move.
"What is it, laddie?" asked Sandy, perceiving the efforts I was making,as he bent down his ear for a moment to my mouth.
I managed to utter "The ship."
"She's all right," he returned; "she managed to weather the berg, and isnow brought up to leeward of the floe, but she had a narrow scrape ofit, and we thought for certain that she'd be knocked to pieces."
My mind felt greatly relieved, but Sandy having to attend to thesteering of the boat I could not again attract his attention. I wasanxious to know what had become of the boat. I did not suppose itpossible that she could have escaped. After some time I managed toutter the word "boat" loud enough for him to hear me.
"It is a sad business, the poor fellows are all lost. We saw the wreckdashing against the base of the floe, and that drew our attention toyou. Although we saw you at a distance we at first took you for aseal."
I asked no further questions. Some twenty minutes or more passed awaybefore we reached the side of the ship. It was surprising that duringthe time I did not perish from cold. I was hoisted on board, and Andrewhad me carried below immediately and put to bed with warm appliances tomy feet and chest. At first I suffered great pain, but at length Ibegan to feel a sensation of comfort and dropped off to sleep. Iafterwards found that Sandy's boat had not gone back to the ship as Isupposed, but that the foggy weather clearing off she had got underweigh, hoping to find some channel, and that she had discovered the onewe were attempting to pass through when the mass of ice had fallen uponus.
On awaking I felt greatly recovered, but my brother would not allow meto leave my bed. I observed that he looked very grave. I inquired ifanything had happened.
"The loss of the first mate and the boat's crew is a serious matter," heanswered, "but our own position is critical in the extreme. We havefailed to get through among the icebergs, and are now passing through alead to the westward. It is possible that we may get out by it, but ifnot we shall, too probably, be beset for the winter."
"We'll get through, doctor, don't be cast down," exclaimed the captain,who had overheard my brother's remark. "We must keep up the spirits ofthe men, they're rather low at having lost so many of our ship-mates."
I knew from the sounds that the ship was still making way. Sooner thanAndrew had expected I was all to rights. On once more going on deck, Ifound that the captain was in the crow's nest, looking out for a furtherlead, of which, from where I stood, nothing could be seen. There were afew water holes and openings in the ice, none of them, except the one inwhich we floated, being wide enough to admit the ship. The sun wassinking towards the horizon, and a night of three hours' duration wasapproaching. The captain on coming down ordered the ice-anchors to becarried to the floe to windward, and the ship to be made fast.
"We shall be out of this in a few hours, lads, I hope," he said. "Theice will open again soon, though at present I see no lead to follow."
Andrew sent me below soon after this. I was struck, when awaking atnight, with the perfect silence which prevailed everywhere. It wasevident we were not moving. The next morning when I went on deck, to mydismay I found that the pool in which we floated was completely frozenover. The crew were cutting away the ice from round the ship. It wasthick enough to bear them. While they were thus employed, the floesaround them began to move, emitting a rustling sound, or perhaps I mightliken it to a suppressed roar. The ice in the pool cracked in alldirections, and one slab was forced over another. The violence of themovement increased on every side. We could see huge masses of icerushing together, one being piled over the other, until the appearanceof the surface became completely changed. Every moment it seemed as ifthe ship herself would be nipped. The ice tumbled and tossed about in amost fearful manner, filling the air with shrieks and howls, for I canliken the noise it produced to nothing else. The hitherto level floesbecame piled up into mountainous masses, towering many fathoms above thedeck. We could do nothing to preserve the ship. The captain, believingthat any moment might be her last, ordered the crew to bring their bagsand the provisions which we always kept ready for such a catastrophe upon deck. Should the ship be crushed where could we go for safety? Theboats would be destroyed if placed on the ice. Though we might escapeto it, we could only expect to be utterly overwhelmed.
We could now see water round us in various directions, but we were tooclosely beset to obtain any chance, unless some lane should unexpectedlyopen by which we might reach one of the pools to the southward. Inabout a couple of hours, however, the commotion ceased, but as it did soour chance of escape lessened. The cold became greater than we had yetfelt it, and every floe and mass of ice was soon securely boundtogether. Although we had not had time to form a dock, one made bynature had preserved us.
Next day there was no change, except that the distant lanes and poolsappeared to be closed. Although our captain must have seen that therewas a great probability of our having to winter in the ice, he wasunwilling to dishearten the crew by preparations until it was absolutelynecessary. We, in the meantime, for the sake of taking exercise, madeexcursions over the ice, generally accompanied by some dogs.
Of course we carried our rifles, and Sandy, with some of the men, tooktheir harpoons, on the chance of finding a seal or walrus on the ice orcoming up to breathe through a water-hole. Ewen and Croil and I set offfrom the ship one morning, expecting to shoot some snow-buntings orother birds, or perhaps, should we get near a water-hole, to kill aseal. We carried provisions with us, as the air invariably made ushungry. The captain had charged us not on any account to lose sight ofthe ship. We had gone on and on, looking back every now and then,seeing her clearly enough. At last Ewen proposed that we should sitdown under the lee of a huge hummock and take our lunch. Croil and Iwere perfectly willing to do this. We had finished our repast, which asmay be supposed did not take us very long, when Ewen, looking up,exclaimed, "Where is the ship?"
She was not to be seen.
"Stay! I'll climb to the top of this ice-hill, and I shall soon makeher out from thence," said Ewen, placing his rifle against a block ofice near the spot where he commenced his ascent. He found the task apretty hard one.
"Perhaps we shall find it more easy on the other side," I observed toCroil.
We both moved on, looking out for a part which we could both morereadily climb up. We were not disappointed; it seemed so easy, indeed,that, slinging our rifles over our backs, we made our way up, expectingto meet Ewen at the top. We had nearly reached it, when we heard himshout out--
"Hugh, Croil, take care. I see a large bear coming along; he'll be upto us presently."
We looked in the direction Ewen pointed, and there, sure enough, we sawa large shaggy mo
nster coming along leisurely, and sniffing the air asif he had scented us. Croil and I waited until Ewen joined us.
"We must shoot him, or perhaps he'll manage to make a dinner off one ofus," I exclaimed.
"Dear me, and I left my rifle at the bottom of the hummock," cried Ewen.
"Then stay where you are, and Croil and I will see what we can do," Ianswered. "Should I miss, Croil, do you take a steady aim, while Iretreat and reload."
This was agreed on, and we descended the hummock to a spot whence wethought we could take a better aim at the bear. Just as we reached it,what was our surprise to see Master Bruin seize Ewen's rifle and beginto walk off with it, looking round cunningly as he did so, as ifperfectly aware that he was carrying off the means we possessed ofinjuring him.
"Fire! fire!" cried Ewen, "or I shall lose my gun."
Ewen's voice made the bear stop, and I advanced as fast as I could,being partially concealed by a projection of the hummock. Taking asteady aim, I pulled the trigger. My bullet struck the bear on theshoulder. He instantly dropped the rifle, and, turning round with afierce growl, bit at the wound, but did not attempt to run off. Thisenabled me to reload. Fortunate it was that I had time to do so, forCroil, not being a good shot, missed; when the bear, growling horribly,and showing his teeth, began to move towards us; then, sitting up on hishind paws, he looked about him to make us out more clearly. I toldCroil to reload and to stand by me with his rifle, that I might use itshould my next shot not take effect. I prayed that my aim might besteady, and fired. Croil and Ewen raised a shout of joy as they saw thebear roll over, kicking his legs in the air. We let him kick, while Iagain got my rifle ready for action. We then advanced, intending to putthe bear out of its misery, while Ewen, slipping down from the top ofthe ice-hill, ran to possess himself of his gun. The bear's struggles,however, soon ceased, and we had not to expend any further powder andshot upon him.
"How are we to get him to the ship?" exclaimed Croil.
"Where is the ship, rather?" I asked.
"I saw her clearly enough from the top of the hummock," said Ewen. "Iwas going to cry out when I saw the bear. We may drag the carcase partof the way, and then get some of the men to come and cut it up, andtransport the remainder on their shoulders," said Ewen.
This plan was agreed to; by going round the hummock we could see theship, though she appeared a long way off. We hoped, however, byreturning with so valuable a prize, we should be excused for having gonefurther than we ought to have done. We found that it was no easy matterto drag along the huge carcase over the ice, even where the surface ofthe floe was perfectly smooth. At last we had to give up the task, buthow we were to find our way back to where we had left the bear was thedifficulty, as the fur could not be distinguished at any great distance.At last Croil produced a red handkerchief from his pocket, which wesecured to the end of a pole we had carried for the purpose of tryingthe ice. He then stuck it through the bear's body, with the iron headfixed in the ice. Though the bear could not be seen, the handkerchiefcould be distinguished at a long distance off. We were pretty welltired when we got back to the ship, and the captain was beginning tofind fault with us for having gone so far, when we told him of the bear,and he immediately sent four hands, under the command of Sandy, to bringit in, or at all events the skin, and as much of his flesh as they couldcarry. We three offered to set off with them, but I was secretly notsorry when the captain remarked that we had taken enough exercise forone day, and ordered us to go below and get some rest.
It was getting dark when Sandy's party returned with our prize, cut up,however, into bits. They were received with a cordial welcome, as allhands were glad to get some fresh meat, which we had not tasted for manya long day.
CHAPTER SIX.
Pretty well tired with the day's exertions, I turned into my berth.Silence reigned round the ship: not a sea-bird's cry, not the slightestsound from the ice reached us. I dreamed that I was once more at home,climbing over the heathery hills of my native land, when I felt the shipheaving and rolling, her stout timbers creaking and groaning, as blowafter blow was dealt on her sides and bows, while noises resemblingshrieks and howls came from every direction, filling the air.
Slipping into my clothes I rushed on deck, where everyone else had gone.Dawn had broken. A furious gale was blowing, and the ice, as far asthe eye could reach, was in violent commotion, while long lanes or broadpools were opening out to the westward and southward. The captainordered as much sail as the ship could carry to be set.
"We may yet get free, lads!" he cried.
The announcement was received by shouts from the crew. They werewilling to encounter the onslaught of the floes, so that we could forceour way out through their midst into open water. The captain or Mr.Patterson were constantly aloft looking out for leads, but I observedthat in spite of their anxiety to find these openings to the southward,the ship's head was generally pointed to the west. At any moment,however, we might find a channel open to the southward. We had longlost sight of the coast of Spitzbergen, and were approaching that ofGreenland. Sometimes the lines led us even more to the northward,towards some wide pool, from which no other channel was seen by which wemight escape to the open ocean. The course of the ship reminded me ofthat of a hare, turning now to one side, now to the other, in herattempt to escape from the dogs. Frequently we rushed against the icewith a force which made every timber quiver. But the stout bows wereprepared for the shock, and the ice bounded off and the way was clear.
Several days we continued to sail on, sometimes gliding smoothly throughthe narrow lanes, at others rushing like a battering ram against thefloes which impeded our progress. Still, at the end of the time, weappeared to be no nearer the moment of our escape than at first. Massesof ice lay to the southward which closed up directly we began toentertain hopes of reaching them, forming an impenetrable barrier acrossthe course we had to steer.
Again the wind fell. For another day we struggled manfully, sawing andblasting the ice to reach a pool beyond which clear leads were seen.The night came down on us while we were secured to a floe. The nextmorning the ice had closed round our ship, and we were once more in itsvice-like grasp. Observations were taken, and it was found that,instead of being nearer the south after all our exertions, we, with thewhole mass of ice in which we were locked up, were drifting to thenorthward. All hopes of escaping were abandoned. The broken and ruggedstate of the ice prevented the possibility of our traversing it withsleighs or dragging boats over it, either to the southward or to thecoast of Greenland. Between us and the far-distant shore we shouldprobably find an open space of water which, without the boats, it wouldbe impossible to cross.
We had now to make up our minds to spend the winter in the ice, and waitfor the summer to get free, should the ship in the meantime escape beingcrushed, a fate we knew full well might at any moment overtake her. Wewere fast to a level floe of great thickness, almost smooth enough insome places for skating, had we possessed skates to amuse ourselves.The inevitable being known, our spirits rose; we formed plans forpassing our time and preparing the ship to enable us to endure the coldof an Arctic winter; we even joked on our condition. Ewen suggestedthat if we were to drift at the rate we were now going we might becomediscoverers of the North Pole.
So solid was the ice everywhere around it appeared to us that no furtherdamage could happen to the ship, and that all we had to do was to waitpatiently until she was liberated during the next summer.
Cold as were the nights, the sun during the day made the air pleasantwhen the weather was calm, if not almost too hot for exercise in ourArctic clothing. As before, excursions were undertaken in search ofwalruses and seals, with a slight hope of meeting with a whale, whichmight come up to breathe in a pool.
Sandy, Ewen, and I, with two other men, started from the ship; Ewen andI carrying our guns, Sandy his trusty harpoon and line, the menadditional harpoons and spears, with a small sledge for dragging backany large game we might kill.
It was of the greatest importance toobtain fresh meat to keep away that dreadful complaint, scurvy.
We had crossed our floe, as we called the mass to which we wereattached, and were making our way westward in the direction of the land,hoping that from the top of some hummock we might chance to see it.Should the worst come to the worst, we must contrive to get there, andlook out for some of the people, who we had heard say are good naturedenough, though rather too fond of blubber to make them pleasantmessmates in a small hut.
Ewen and I had dropped some way behind our companions, when we saw themturn to the northward towards an ice-hole, which we had shortly beforediscovered from the top of a hummock. We were about to follow, whenEwen declared that he saw a bear in an opposite direction stealing alongamid the broken ice.
We hurried on in the direction he had seen the animal, hoping soon againto catch sight of it. An extensive hummock was before us: I agreed togo round one side, while he took the other. I had parted from himscarcely five minutes when I heard him utter a loud cry for help. Ihurried back, expecting to find that he had been attacked by the bear.What was my dismay then to see neither him nor the bear, but Idistinguished a black spot just above the ice near where I had left him.I rushed on, when I saw Ewen's head projecting out of a water-holewhile his hands were holding on to the ice.
"Help me, help me, or I must let go," he shouted. Fortunately I hadbrought a coil of light rope, which I carried over my shoulder. Undoingit, I drew as near to the hole as I could venture. To tell him to catchhold of the end would have been mockery; in attempting to do so he mighthave sunk. I therefore made a bow-line knot, which I jerked over hisshoulders, he then first let go