would be sure to follow me if I attempted any aerialflights, and I'd come down by the run."
"Well, we're fairly beset, anyhow," said Rory, "and I daresay we'll haveto try to make the best of it."
So guns were placed disconsolately ill the racks, as soon as theterrible black frost had quite set in, or if they were taken out when awalk was determined on, it was only for fashion's sake, and for the fearthat an occasional bear might be met with. But it was good fun breakingbottles with rifle bullets, and good practice as well. As the days wenton, and there were no signs of the pack breaking up, a number of bookswere taken down to be perused, much time was spent in playing piano orviolin, or both together, while after dinner the hours were devoted totalking. Many a racy yarn was told by Cobb, many an adventure by Seth,and many a queer experience by Silas Grig, and duly appreciated, too.So the evenings did not seem long, whatever the days did.
Said Silas one morning to McBain, as they stood together leaning on thebulwarks.
"I don't quite like the look of that ice, captain; it is precious big,and if it came on to press a bit, why, it would go clean through theribs of us, strong though our good ships are. And that cockle-shell ofCobb's would be the very first to go down to the bottom."
"Or up to the top," suggested McBain.
"What?" laughed Silas; "would you clap your balloon top of her, and lifther out like?"
"No, not that; but we could hoist her high and dry on top of the iceeasily enough."
"Well, I declare," cried Silas, clapping one brawny hand on his knee,"that is a glorious idea. And an old iceman like me to never think ofit!"
Then Silas's face fell, as he said,--
"Ah! but you couldn't hoist me up too. The _Canny Scotia_ would godown; that would be more of my luck."
"Well, but I've thought of a plan. I have torpedoes on board. I'llhave a go at this ice, anyhow."
"Make a kind of harbour, you mean?" inquired Silas.
"That's it," was the reply.
"But," said Silas, still somewhat dubious, "you know the currents runlike mill-streams in under the ice. Well, suppose your torpedoes wereto be floated in under my ship, and went bursting off there?"
"Well, your ship would be hoisted," replied McBain; "that would be all."
"Ay!" said Silas, "that would be all; that would end all the luck, goodor bad."
"But there is no fear of any such accident. And now let us just have atry at it."
Blowing up icebergs with torpedoes is by no means difficult, when youknow how to do it, but sometimes the current will shift the guiding-poleor rope, and were it to get under the stern of the ship itself, it wouldmake it awkward for the Arctic explorers. In the present instanceeverything went well, and berg after berg succumbed to the force of thegun-cotton, until the last, when, by some mismanagement, one torpedo wasshifted right under a piece of ice on which stood, tools in hand, aboutten men, besides Silas, Rory, and Captain McBain himself. Of course itwas not likely that boy Rory was going to be far away when any fun wasgoing on, so that is why he happened to be on top of this identical bergwhen the blowing-up took place. And here is precisely what was seen bydisinterested bystanders--a smother of snow and water and ice, mixed,rising in shape of a rounded column over ten feet high, and, dimlyvisible in the misty midst thereof, a minglement of hands and heads andarms and legs. The sound accompanying the columnar rising was somethingbetween a puff and a thud; I cannot better describe it. Then there wasa sudden collapse, and next moment the arms and the legs and the handsand the heads were all seen sprawling and struggling in the frothy,seething water below. It simply and purely looked as if they were allbeing boiled alive in a huge cauldron. But the strangest part of thestory is to come. With the exception of a few trifling braises, not oneof those who were thus surprised by so sudden a rise in the world was abit the worse. The ducking in the cold sea was certainly far frompleasant, but dry clothes and hot coffee soon put that to rights, andthey came up smiling again.
Freezing Powders, who was on deck at the time of the accident, wasdreadfully frightened, and ran down below instantly to report matters tohis favourite.
"What's the row? What's the row? What's the row?" cried the bird asthe boy entered the saloon.
"Don't talk so fast, Cockie, and I'll tell you," said Freezing Powders,sinking down on the deck with one arm on the cage. "I tink I'se allright at present, though my breaf is all frightened out of my body, andI must look 'bout as pale as you, Cockie."
"De-ah me!" said Cockie.
"But don't hang by de legs, Cockie. When you wants a mouf-ful of hempjust hop down for it, else de blood all run to your poor head, den youdie in a fit?"
"Poor de-ah Cockie! Pretty old Cockie!" said the bird, in mournfultones.
"And now I got my breaf again, I try to 'splain to you what am de row.De drefful world round de ship is all white, Cockie, and to-day dey hascommenced blowing it up, and jus' now, Cockie, dey has commenced to blowderselves up?"
"De-ah me!" from Cockie.
"Dat am quite true, Cockie, and de heads and de legs am flying about inall directions! It is too drefful to behold!"
"Now then, young Roley Poley!" cried Peter, entering at that moment,"toddle away forward for some boiling-hot coffee, and run quicker thanever you ran in your life."
"I'se off like a bird!" said Freezing Powders, darting out of the cabinas if there had been a boot after him.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
CAPTAIN COBB RETIRES--MORE TORPEDOING--THE GREAT ICE-HOLE--STRANGESPORT--THE TERRIBLE ZUGAENA--THE DEATH STRUGGLE.
Both Captain McBain and Silas Grig felt more easy in their minds whenthey had got fairly rid of the green-rooted monsters of icebergs thathad lain so placidly yet so threateningly alongside their respectiveships. And oh! by the way, how very calm, harmless, and gentle bergslike these _can_ look, when there is no disturbing element beneath them,their snow-clad tops asleep and glistening in the sunlight; but I haveseen them angry, grinding and crashing together, each upheavalrepresenting a height of from fifteen to thirty feet; each upheavalrepresenting a strength hydraulic equal in force to the might of thegreat ocean itself.
Our heroes had taken time by the forelock. They had "guncottoned thebergs," as Captain Cobb termed it, and lay for the time being in squareice-locked harbours, and could bid defiance to almost any ordinaryoccurrence, whether gale of wind in the pack or swell from the distantsea.
As the days went by the black frost seemed only to increase in severity.
"How long d'ye think," said Captain Cobb, one morning, while atbreakfast in the _Arrandoon_--"how long d'ye think this state ofaffairs'll last? 'cause, mind ye, I begin to feel a kind o' riledalready."
McBain looked inquiringly at Silas.
"If it's asking me you are," said the latter, "I makes answer and says,it may be for months, but it can't be for ever."
"But the frost isn't likely to go for a week, is it now?"
"That it won't, worse luck," was the reply.
"Well, then, gentlemen," said Cobb, "this child is going off, straightaway out o' here back to Jan Mayen."
"Back to Jan Mayen?"
"Back to Jan Mayen!" everybody said, or seemed to say, in one breath.
"I reckon ye heard aright," said the imperturbable Yankee.
"It's just like this, ye see," he continued. "I'm paid by my employersto make observations on the old island down yonder; stopping here ain'ttaking sights, but it's taking the company's dollars for nothing, so ifyou'll--either o' ye--lend me a hand or two, and promise to hoist upCobb's cockle-shell in the event of a squeeze, Cobb himself is off home,'tain't mor'n fifty miles."
The journey was a dangerous one, nobody knew that better than the boldAmerican himself, and it was a true sense of duty to his employers thatcaused him to undertake it. But having once made up his mind to athing, Cobb was not the man to be deterred from accomplishing it.
So, with many a good wish for his safety, accompanied by only three men,he set out on his long journey o
ver the snow. Rory, from the deck ofthe _Arrandoon_, and McBain from the nest, watched them as long as theywere in sight. Indeed, I am not at all sure that Rory did not feel alittle sorry he had not asked leave to accompany them, so fond was he ofadventure in every shape and form.
It was a relief for him--and not for him alone--when McBain, in order tobreak the monotony of existence, and by way of doing something, proposedtrying the effects of his torpedoes again at some distance from theship, and forming a great ice-hole.
"Things will come up to breathe,