sort of papers which would enable Captain Funnel to make out the story
of the barque. We were too eager and curious and interested to heed
the passage of time. There were harpoons and muskets racked in the
state cabin, some wearing apparel in the berths, a few books on
nautical subjects, but without the owners' names in them, and there
was a bundle of what proved to be bear's skins stowed away in the
corner of the berth that was without a scuttle. A door led to a couple
of bulkheaded compartments in the fore part of the state cabin, and
Sweers was in the act of advancing to it when he cried out:
"By the tunder of heaven, what is dot?" losing his customary hold of
the English tongue in the excitement of the moment.
"The ice is melting and discharging in Niagara Falls upon the whaler's
deck!" I cried, after listening a moment to the noise of a downpour
that rang through the cabin in a hollow thunder.
We rushed on deck. A furious squall was blowing, but the air was
becalmed where the vessel lay by the high cliffs of ice, and the rain
of the squall fell almost up and down in a very sheet of water,
intermingled with hailstones as big as the eggs of a thrush. The whole
scene of the ocean was a swirling, revolving smother, as though the
sky was full of steam, and the screech of the wind, as it fled off the
edge of the dead white heights which sheltered us, pierced the ear
like the whistlings of a thousand locomotives.
There was nothing to be seen of the schooner: but _that_ was trifling
for the moment compared to this: _there was nothing to be seen of the
boat_! The furious discharge of the squall would increase her weight
by half filling her with water; the slashing wet of the rain would
also render the icy slope up which we had hauled her as slippery as a
sheet for skaters; a single shock or blast of wind might suffice to
start her. Be this as it will, she had launched herself--she was gone!
We strained our sight, but no faintest blotch of shadow could we
distinguish amid the white water rushing smoothly off from the base of
the berg, and streaming into the pallid shadow of the squall where you
saw the sea clear of the ice beginning to work with true Atlantic
spite.
"Crate Cott!" cried Sweers, "what's to be done? There was no
appearance of a squall when we landed here. It drove up abaft this
berg, and it may have been hidden from the schooner herself by the
ice."
We crouched in the companion-way for shelter, not doubting that the
squall would speedily pass, and that the schooner, which we naturally
supposed lay close to the berg hove-to, would, the instant the weather
cleared, send a boat to take us off. But the squall, instead of
abating, gradually rose into half a gale of wind--a wet dark gale that
shrouded the sea with flying spume and rain to within a musket-shot of
the iceberg, whilst the sky was no more than a weeping, pouring shadow
coming and going as it were with a lightening and darkening of it by
masses of headlong torn vapour. Some of the ragged pinnacles of the
cliffs of ice seemed to pierce that wild dark, flying sky of storm as
it swept before the gale close down over our heads.
We could not bring our minds to realise that we were to be left aboard
this ice-stranded whaler all night, and perhaps all next day, and for
heaven alone knows how much longer for the matter of that; and it was
not until the darkness of the evening had drawn down, coming along
early with the howling gloom of the storm-shrouded ocean, without so
much as a rusty tinge of hectic to tell us where the West lay, that we
abandoned our idle task of staring at the sea, and made up our minds
to go through with the night as best we could.
And first of all we entered the galley, and by the aid of such dim
light as still lived we contrived to catch sight of a tin lamp with a
spout to it dangling over the coppers. There was a wick in the spout,
but one might swear that the lamp hadn't been used for months and
months.
"We must have a light anyhow," said Sweers, "and if this _President_
be a whaler, there should be no lack of oil aboard."
After groping awhile in some shelves stocked with black-handled knives
and forks, tin dishes, pannikins, and the like, I put my hand upon a
stump of candle-end. This we lighted, Sweers luckily having a box of
lucifers in his pocket, and with the aid of the candle-flame, we
discovered in the corner of the galley a lime-juice jar half-full of
oil. With this we trimmed the lamp, and then stepped on deck to grope
our way to the cabin, meaning to light the lamp down there, for no
unsheltered flame would have lived an instant in the fierce draughts
which rushed and eddied about the decks.
We stayed a moment to look seawards, but all was black night out
there, touched in places with a sudden flash of foam. The voice of the
gale was awful with the warring noise of the waters, and with the
restless thunder of seas smiting the ice on the weather side, and with
the wild and often terrific crackling sounds which arose out of the
heart of the solid mass of the berg itself, as though earthquakes in
endless processions were trembling through it, and as though, at any
moment, the whole vast bulk would be rent into a thousand crystal
splinters. Sweers was silent until we had gained the cabin and lighted
the lamp. He then looked at me with an ashen face, and groaned.
"This gale's going to blow the schooner away," said he. "We're lost
men, David. I'd give my right eye to be aboard the _Lightning_. D'ye
understand the trick of these blooming icebergs? They wash away
underneath, grow topheavy, and then over goes the show. And to think
of the jolly-boat making off, as if two sailormen like you and me
couldn't have provided for _that_!"
He groaned again, and then seated himself, and appeared wholly
deprived of energy and spirit.
However, now that I was below, under shelter, out of the noise of the
weather, and therefore able to collect my thoughts, I began to feel
very hungry and thirsty; in fact, neither Sweers nor I had tasted food
since breakfast at eight o'clock that morning. A lamp hung aslant from
the cabin ceiling. It was a small lamp of brass, glazed. I unhooked
it, and brought it to the light, but it was without a wick, and there
was no oil in it, and to save time I stuck the lighted candle in the
lamp, and leaving the other lamp burning to enable Sweers to rummage
also, I passed through the door that was in the forepart of the cabin;
and here I found three berths, one of which was furnished as a pantry,
whilst the other two were sleeping-places, with bunks in them, and I
observed also a sheaf or two of harpoons, together with spades and
implements used in dealing with the whale after the monster has been
killed and towed alongside.
The atmosphere was horribly close and fishy in this place, reeking of
oil, yet cold as ice, as though the ship lay drowned a thousand
fathoms deep. I called to Sweers to bring his lamp, for my candle gave
so poor a light I could scarce see by it; and in the berth that looked
to have been used as a pantry we found half a barrel of pork, a bag of
ship's biscuit, and a quantity of Indian meal, beans, and rice, a
canister of coffee, and a few jars of pickles. But we could find
nothing to drink.
I was now exceedingly thirsty; so I took a pannikin--a number of
vessels of the sort were on the shelf in the pantry--and carried it
with the lamp on deck. I had taken notice during the day of four or
five buckets in a row abaft the mainmast, and, approaching them, I
held the light close, and found each bucket full. I tasted the water;
it was rain and without the least flavour of salt: and, after drinking
heartily, I filled the pannikin afresh and carried it down to Sweers.
There was a spiritlessness in this man that surprised me. I had not
thought to find the faculties of Salamon Sweers so quickly benumbed by
what was indeed a wild and dangerous confrontment, yet not so
formidable and hopeless as to weaken the nerves of a seaman. I yearned
for a bottle of rum, for any sort of strong waters indeed, guessing
that a dram would help us both; and after I had made a meal off some
raw pork and molasses spread upon the ship's biscuit, which was mouldy
and astir with weevils, I took my lantern and again went on deck, and
made my way to the galley where the oil jar stood, and here in a
drawer I found what now I most needed, but what before I had
overlooked; I mean a parcel; of braided lamp wicks. I trimmed the lamp
and got a brilliant light. The glass protected the flame from the rush
of the wind about the deck. I guessed there would be nothing worth
finding in the barque's forecastle, and not doubting that there was a
lazarette in which would be stored such ship provisions as the crew
had left behind them, I returned to the cabin, looked for the
lazarette hatch, and found it under the table.
Well, to cut this part of the story short, Sweers and I dropped into
the lazarette, and after spending an hour or two in examining what we
met with, we discovered enough provisions, along with some casks of
rum and bottled beer, to last a ship's company of twenty men a whole
six months. This was Sweers' reckoning. We carried some of the bottled
beer into the cabin, and having pipes and tobacco with us in our
pockets, we filled and smoked, and sat listening to the wet storming
down the decks overhead, and to the roaring of the wind on high, and
to the crackling noises of the ice.
That first night with us on board the whaler was a fearful time.
Sometimes we dozed as we sat confronting each other on the lockers,
but again and again would we start up and go on deck, but only to look
into the blindness of the night, and only to hearken to the appalling
noises of the weather and the ice. When day broke there was nothing in
sight. It was blowing strong, a high sea was running, and the ocean
lay shrouded as though with vapour.
During the course of the morning we entered the forepeak, where we
found a quantity of coal. This enabled us to light the galley fire, to
cook a piece of pork, and to boil some coffee. Towards noon Sweers
proposed to inspect the hold, and to see what was inside the ship.
Accordingly we opened the main hatch and found the vessel loaded with
casks, some of which we examined and found them full of oil.
"By tunder!" cried Sweers; "if we could only carry this vessel home
there'd be a fortune for both of us, David. Shall I tell you what this
sort of oil's worth? Well, it's worth about thirty pounds a ton. And
how much d'ye think there's aboard? Not less than a hundred ton, if I
don't see double. There's no man can teach me the capacity of a cask,
and there are casks below varying from forty-two to two hundred and
seventy-five gallons, with no lack of whalebone stored dry somewhere,
I don't doubt, if those casks would let us look for it."
But this was no better than idle and ironical chatter in the mouths of
men so hideously situated as we were. For my part I had no thought of
saving the ship; indeed, I had scarce any hope of saving my own life.
We found an American ensign in a small flag-locker that was lashed
near the wheel, and we sent it half-mast high, with the stars
inverted. Then we searched for fresh water, and found three iron tanks
nearly full in the after-hold. The water stunk with keeping, as though
it had grown rank in the bilge, but after it had stood a little while
exposed to air it became sweet enough to use. There was no fear then
of our perishing from hunger and thirst whilst the whaler kept
together. Our main and imminent danger lay in the sudden dissolution
of the ice, or in the capsizal of the berg. It was our unhappy fortune
that, numerous as were the cranes overhanging the whaler's side, we
should not have found a boat left in one of them. Our only chance lay
in a raft; but both Sweers and I, as sailors, shrank from the thought
of such a means of escape. We might well guess that a raft would but
prolong our lives in the midst of so wide a sea, by a few days, and
perhaps by a few hours only, after subjecting us to every agony of
despair and of expectation, and torturing us with God alone would know
what privations.
We thoroughly overhauled the forecastle of the vessel, but found
nothing of interest. There were a few seamen's chests, some odds and
ends of wearing apparel, and here and there a blanket in a bunk; but
the crew in clearing out appeared to have carried off most of their
effects with them. Of course we could only conjecture what they had
done and how they had managed; but it was to be guessed that all the
boats being gone the sailors had taken advantage of a split in the ice
to get away from their hard and fast ship, employing all their boats
that they might carry with them a plentiful store of water and
provisions.
I should but weary you to dwell day by day upon the passage of time
that Sweers and I passed upon this ship that we had seen upon the ice.
We kept an eager look-out for craft, crawling to the mastheads so as
to obtain a view over the blocks of ice which lay in masses at the
stem and stern of the whaler. But though we often caught sight of a
distant sail, nothing ever approached us close enough to observe our
signal. Once, indeed, a large steamer passed within a couple of miles
of the iceberg, and we watched her with devouring eyes, forever
imagining that she was slowing down and about to stop, until she
vanished out of our sight past the north end of the berg. Yet, we had
no other hope of rescue than that of being taken off by a passing
ship.
I never recollect meeting at sea with such a variety of weather as we
encountered. There would be clear sunshine and bright blue skies for a
day, followed by dark and bellowing nights of storm. Then would come
periods of thick fogs, followed by squalls, variable winds, and so on.
We guessed, however, that our trend was steadily southwards, by the
steady cascading of the ice, by the frequent falls of large blocks,
and by the increasing noises of sudden, tremendous disruptions, loud
and heart-subduing as thundershocks heard close to.
"If we aren't taken off," said Sweers to me one day, "there's just
this one chance for us. The ice is bound to melt. All these bergs, as
I reckon, disappear somewhere to the nor'ard of the verge of the Gulf
Stream. Well, now the Lord may be good to us, and it may happen that
this berg'll melt away and leave the whaler afloat; and float she must
if she isn't crushed by the ice. Let her leak like a sieve--there's
oil enough in her to keep her standing upright as though she were a
line-of-battle ship."
Well, we had been a little more than a fortnight upon this ship hard
and fast upon the ice. Many a vessel had we sighted, but never a one
of them, saving the steamer I have mentioned, had approached within
eyeshot of our distress signal. Yet our health was good, and our
spirits tolerably easy; we had fared well, there was no lack of food
and drink, and we were beginning to feel some confidence in the
iceberg--by which I mean to say that the rapid thawing of its upper
parts, where all the weight was, filled us with the hope that the mass
wouldn't capsize as we had feared; that it would hold together so as
to keep the ship on end as she now was until we were rescued, or,
failing our being rescued, that it would dissolve in such a way as to
leave the whaler afloat.
It was somewhere about the end of a fortnight, as I have said. My bed
was a cabin locker, on which I had placed a mattress and a bear-skin.
Both Sweers and I turned in of a night, unless it was clear weather;
though if I awoke I'd sometimes steal on deck to take a peep, for
nothing could come of our keeping a look-out if it was blowing hard,
and if it was black and thick.
This night it was a bit muddy and dark, with a moderate breeze out of
the south-west, as far as we could guess at the bearings of the wind.
I was awakened from a deep slumber by an extraordinary convulsion in
the ship. I was half-stupefied with sleep, and can therefore but
imperfectly recall my sensations and the character of what I may term
the throes and spasms of the vessel. I was thrown from the locker and
lay for some moments incapable of rising by the shock of the fall. But
one thing my senses, even when they were scarce yet awake, took note
of, and that was a prodigious roaring noise, similar in effect to what
might be produced by a cannon-ball rolling along a hollow wooden
floor, only that the noise was thousands of times greater than ever
could have been produced by a cannon-ball. The lamp was out, and the
cabin in pitch blackness. I heard Sweers from some corner of the
cabin, bawling out my name; but before I could answer, and even whilst
I was staggering to my feet, a second convulsion threw me down again;
the next instant there was a sensation as of the vessel being hove up
into the air, attended by an extraordinary grinding noise, that
thrilled through every beam of her; next, in the space of a few beats
of the heart, she plunged into the sea, raising such a boiling and
roaring of waters, as, spite of the sounds being dulled to our ears by
our being in the cabin, persuaded us that the vessel was foundering.
But even whilst I thus thought, holding my breath and waiting for the
death that was to come with the pouring of the water down the open
companion-way, I felt the ship right; she lifted buoyant under foot,
and I sprang to the steps which conducted on deck, with Sweers--as I
might know by his voice--close at my heels, roaring out, "By tunder,
we're adrift and afloat!"
The stars were shining, there was a red moon low in the west, the
weather had cleared, and a quiet wind was blowing. At the distance of
some hundred yards from the ship stood a few pallid masses--the
remains of the berg. It was just possible to make out that the water
in the neighbourhood of those dim heaps was covered with fragments of
ice. How the liberation of the ship had come about neither Sweers nor
I did then pause to consider. We were sailors, and our first business
was to act as sailors, and as quickly as might be we loosed and
hoisted the jib and foretopmast staysail, so that the vessel might
blow away from the neighbourhood of the dangerous remains of her jail
of ice. We then sounded the well, and, finding no water, went to work
to loose the foresail and foretopsail, which canvas we made shift to
set with the aid of the capstan. I then lighted the binnacle lamp
whilst Sweers held the wheel; and having sounded the well afresh, to
make sure of the hull, we headed away to the eastwards, the wind being
about W.S.W.
Before the dawn broke we had run the ice out of sight. Sweers and I
managed, as I have no doubt, to arrive at the theory of the liberation
of the ship by comparing our sensations and experiences. There can be
no question that the berg had split in twain almost amidships. This
was the cause of the tremendous noise of thunder which I heard. The
splitting of the ice had hoisted the shelf or beach on which the
barque lay, and occasioned that sensation of flying into the air which
I had noticed. But the lifting of the beach of ice had also violently
and sharply sloped it, and the barque, freeing herself, had fled down
it broadside on, taking the water with a mighty souse and crash, then
rising buoyant, and lifting and falling upon the seas as we had both
of us felt her do.
And now to bring this queer yarn to a close, for I have no space to
dwell upon our thankfulness and our proceedings until we obtained the
help we stood in need of. We managed to handle the barque without
assistance for three days, then fell in with an American ship bound to
Liverpool, who lent us three of her men, and within three weeks of the
date of our release from the iceberg we were in soundings in the Chops
of the Channel, and a few days later had safely brought the barque to
an anchor in the river Thames.
The adventure yielded Sweers and I a thousand pounds apiece as salvage
money, but we were kept waiting a long time before receiving our just
reward. It was necessary to communicate with the owners of the barque
in America, and then the lawyers got hold of the job, and I grew so
weary of interviews, so vexed and sickened by needless correspondence,
that I should have been thankful to have taken two hundred pounds for
my share merely to have made an end.
It seems that the _President_ had been abandoned two years and five
months by her crew before the _Lightning_ sighted her on the ice. Her
people had stuck to her for eight months, then made off in a body with
the boats, carrying their captain and mates along with them. They
regarded the situation of their ship as hopeless, and indeed, as it
turned out, they were not very wrong, so far as their notions of
reasonable detention went; for they never could have liberated the
vessel by their own efforts; they must have waited, as we had, for the
ice to free her; and this would have signified to them an imprisonment
of two years and a half over and above the eight months they had
already spent in her whilst ice-bound.
Sweers gave up the sea, started in business, and died, about ten years
since, a fairly well-to-do man. And shall I tell you what I did with
my thousand pounds? ... But my story has already run to greater length
than I had intended when sitting down to write it.
THE END.
THE INCOGNITO LIBRARY.
A series of small books by representative writers, whose names will
for the present not be given.
In this series will be included the authorized American editions of
the future issues of Mr. Unwin's "=Pseudonym Library=", which
has won for itself a noteworthy prestige.
32mo, limp cloth, each 50 cents.
I. =The Shen's Pigtail=, and Other Cues of
Anglo-China Life, by Mr. M----.
II. =The Hon. Stanbury and Others=, by
Two.
III.=Lesser's Daughter=, by Mrs. Andrew
Dean.
IV. =A Husband of No Importance=, by
"Rita."
V. =Helen=, by Oswald Valentine.
VI. =A Gender in Satin=, by "Rita."
VII.=Every Day's News, by C.E. Francis.
These will be followed by volumes by other well-known authors.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Honour of the Flag, by W. Clark Russell