A FIGHT BETWEEN MEN AND ICE
The _Sea Elephant’s_ cruise around the great Antarctic continent, and
all her captain and bold men did, and said and saw, would make a book in
itself. That may one day see the light, as well as the adventures of the
men left behind at Kerguelen.
We must now follow our heroes into a country as widely different in
every way as Scotland or England is from the moon.
Now, having been a boy myself, not so very long ago--apparently--and
being still a boy at heart, I know that boys do not as a rule care for
geography. That is because it is taught in a stupidly, awkward way at
schools, a method being adopted which is devoid of all interest. But
never mind, I _do_ wish you for once in a way to take a look at the map
here presented to you. The ships were off south and east from Kerguelen
Isle, and the first port to be struck was Termination Land. It was not
to be the termination of their cruise, however, by a very long way.
Would you be surprised to learn that there are two poles in the south,
and two in the north, the magnetic and real poles.
The real axis, the hub of our “terral” wheel, is the one we have to deal
with.
Here all meridians may be supposed to meet at a point.
There would in reality be no more south for a man standing at this pole.
Let him look in which ever way he liked, to Africa, to South America, or
New Zealand; it would all be north, north, north. No east, no west, just
north.
The _Sea Elephant_ and her sister, the _Walrus_, were not to be run into
any danger along the coast of Wilkes’ Land, which marvellous line of
shore may be said to stretch from Termination Land and Island, right
away to Ringgold’s Knoll, far, far east. It is, or is supposed to be,
the longest stretch of coast land in, or any way around, the Antarctic.
There is no mistake about this being land, nor that it is indented with
bays and gulphs, just as the west coast of Scotland or Norway is; and
these indentations may really divide the continent in places.
I only want to give you some rough idea of this land coast. Had you then
been able to sail along it many thousands of years ago--and you would
have had to be up very early indeed to do so--before there was any ice
here at all, when the shores were green and forest-clad, the sight you
would have witnessed would have been a very beautiful one indeed! Hills
and vales and mountain land, and probably in the farther interior, vast
sierras, the woods teeming with strange animals; and strange birds would
have been there, too, sailing over the forests, or floating on blue
seas, alive with myriads of fish of various species, many now lost and
gone, others still extant because they have migrated.
But now, though the same formation of surface and contour of hills may
remain, they are all, all snow-clad, and protected seawards by a
barrier, or barriers of ice, of every description, which few mariners
would care to negotiate.
* * * * *
The weather continued favourable, but there were many days of darkness
and gloom; and after Termination Land had been reached, it was not
considered advisable--strong and well fortified though the ships
were--to be among the ice when the shadows of great clouds enveloped the
land, or when storms were threatened. But when the sun shone, and the
ice was open, then they boldly ventured to push their way through,
either under steam, or under sail.
Ice like this closes very suddenly, and if the captain of an exploring
ship is not very clever, he may get caught, and a week’s imprisonment
counts against a ship when making a voyage.
Sailing in a pack like this, a vessel to a landsman would seem to be in
a very dangerous position.
She may be, though no one on board appears to think so. The ice is here,
the ice is there, the ice is all around; flat bergs, like what you meet
in the north; pancake ice, lakes of slush, and those terrible masses, or
square mountains of land-ice--a characteristic feature of this
country--with caved perpendicular sides, striated on the horizontal, or,
if they have been melted by the sun at one side, oblique, and glittering
gorgeously blue, green, or paley white, in the sun’s rays.
But all, big or small, covered with snow, so that their very whiteness
dazzles the eyes. But at this season there were birds everywhere, and
seals of many species. The penguins, I need hardly add, were a very
curious sight, as they stood or staggered about on the low flat bergs.
Our heroes saw some sea-elephants, though I believe these, as a rule,
are far more common to the south of Tierra Del Fuego.
One day, when the ships were pretty close together, and well in through
the ice, the sky cleared far too quickly to please Captain Mayne Brace.
He knew at once that John Frost would have them in his clutches, if they
did not soon beat a retreat.
So he signalled to his consort, and both vessels quickly had their heads
turned to the north.
They might have found themselves clear in a few hours had it not
suddenly come on to blow from the cold and icy south.
The ice began to pack.
Steam was got up with the greatest despatch, and nearly all sail taken
in. Luckily there was no swell, else there would have been pressure
enough to have thrown both vessels on their beam-ends on a floe.
The _Sea Elephant_ was leading, and by-and-by the _Walrus_ managed to
creep right into her wake. This was an advantage for a time. A south
wind, even with a clear sky, would naturally open the ice, but there was
some demon current working underneath that they could not account for;
and while they were still two miles from clear and open water, they
found themselves rapidly becoming part and parcel of the pack.
Break the ice, did you say? I should smile. You may get steam machinery
to smash bay-ice, or splinter pancake, but not your solid, heavy pieces.
Oh no! So men who have inventions of this sort should sell them to
farmers at home to break up their mill dams in winter.
Then came a battle ’twixt men and ice. Men with their cunning, ice with
its force of movement, slow but sure.
Both ships got closer together, the _Sea Elephant_ leading, all hands
that could be spared from both ships, over the side in front of the
foremost.
Armed with great poles, they moved the bergs on every side.
It was bitterly cold work, and the pieces moved but slowly.
Under all the pressure of steam she could produce without risk, aided by
the men over the side, the _Sea Elephant_ forged her way slowly, fathom
by fathom, indeed, but after a time that to our heroes seemed
interminable, her jib-boom hung over the black water.[D]
Then came the scramble to get inboard, and though their fingers were
about as hard as boards, and some had frozen faces, in less than ten
minutes all hands were once more on their respective decks.
Sail was once more set, fires were banked--save the coals they must--and
away they went, right merrily, to the east again, the wind well on the
starboard beam.
Although the men had raised a cheer when the ships were quite out of
that ugly pack, there was no fear in any breast.
“Would there have been much danger if we had been beset in there,
uncle?” Charlie ventured to ask the captain, at supper.
“A fig for the danger, boy. We’ll never be out of that, but we came to
find the South Pole, or get somewhere near it.”
Ingomar smiled.
“Well, then, Hans, we have come to make a big record.”
“That will beat all creation, captain.”
“Yes, beat all creation, and it would have been misfortune, to say the
least of it, to have got beset. That’s all. Yes, thanks, steward, I’ll
have another slice.”
* * * * *
The two ships stood steadily onwards now, day after day, sailing
whenever they could, steaming only when obliged to, for the economy of
coal had to be studied, and that, too, most carefully.
Captain Bell, of the _Sea Elephant_, came now to be recognized as head
of the expedition, though on every occasion that was deemed important a
council was called and the opinions of all officers taken.
He was now always called The Admiral, but not to his face. He was none
too fond of fine titles.
And the _Sea Elephant_ was called the Flag Ship, for short.
One day, when in the neighbourhood of the Knoll, the Admiral signalled
to the _Walrus_, that as they would soon round Wilkes’ Land and stand
down south, it would be best for all hands to bend their cold-weather
gear.
In shore English that would signify, give out the supplies of winter
clothing.
As it turned out, this was very excellent advice indeed.
The Eskimos had their supply first and foremost, and this they had made
themselves, under the supervision of Slap-dash, and from seal-skins with
the hair on.
Slap-dash assured Captain Bell that there was nothing so good for
keeping out the cold, and his words turned out to be true. Most,
however, of the sailors and their officers still stuck to flannel and
fur.
Both Charlie and Walter had a very great desire to see the inside of a
real ice-cave. These caves look like archways, or the openings into
tunnels, and are formed by the dash of the waves on huge bergs of
land-ice, or even in the sides of the ice-barrier itself.
They had their desire fulfilled one day, while the ships lay almost
motionless on the dark water.
There wasn’t a breath of wind, nor was there any fog. And the surveyors
were engaged very busily indeed, in taking soundings, and bringing up
specimens of the mud or clay at the bottom for examination.
Fires were banked, but the ships were at no great distance from a lofty
ice-wall, at the foot of which were several caves.
They rowed on shore at sunset.
And the appearance of that sunset was in itself a sight to behold!
The sun was sinking slowly down to the north of west, and in a cloudless
sky. It seemed a larger sun than our young heroes had ever yet beheld,
and cast its reflection on the heaving waves ’twixt boat and horizon, in
a very remarkable way; for although the sheen was bright, it was not
dazzling. Nor was the sun itself. But nearer to the spot where our
heroes stood, on the field of level ice betwixt them and the ice-caves,
were many shades of opal and pearl.
“We must be moving,” said Ingomar, “at last, boys, or we will not get
home to-night.”
“Oh!” cried Walter, “I wouldn’t mind staying here all night to look at
the sky.”
“Nor I,” said Charlie. “I’d like to sleep in the snow. Nothing could
harm us except the frost, and we should be in our sleeping-bags, so that
couldn’t hurt much.”
“There are no snakes here, anyhow.” This from “wise Walter,” as Charlie
sometimes called him chaffingly.
“No, Walt; and no burglars, either.”
There was one thing to be said for the dogs, Nick and Nora and Wallace.
They had long ago fully made up their minds to enjoy themselves to the
fullest extent, whenever they had the chance.
They were tearing round and round on the ice-floe at this moment,
wriggling and jumping and playing at leap-frog, while Nick would pause
every moment to fill his mouth with snow and fling it over his
neighbour’s shoulders.
The boys must have just one more look at that sky before they entered
the ice-cave.
Lo! what a change. The sun was all but down, and sea and sky had changed
to orange, deep and charming. The very snow was orange.
But judge of their disappointment when they entered the first cave and
found that all was pitch dark.