After visiting the unfortunate sloop, a fair lead appeared, with a pool
of considerable size to the northward. Making all sail we stood on,
hoping to find whales sporting within it. Before, however, we reached
the pool the wind dropped, and the boats were sent ahead to tow the
ship. This mode of progression was, however, before long rendered
impossible, by the closing of the floes. We had continued to warp her
along by carrying out ice anchors, and working the windlass. We looked
anxiously ahead, for the lane was becoming closer and closer, and it
seemed not impossible that we should be compelled to form a dock to save
the ship from being nipped. Saws were got ready, and every other
preparation made for cutting a space in the ice sufficient to hold the
ship. At length the captain seeing that the pool itself was
contracting, gave the word to commence the work. All hands were
required for the task, some used the saws, and others hauled away the
blocks as they were cut out. It was hard work, but no one grumbled, as
our lives might depend upon our getting it accomplished in time.
Scarcely was it finished, than the floes closed, not with such force as
we expected, but with quite enough to have crushed our stout ship into a
pancake. Instead of such being the case, we floated free from harm in
the basin we had formed. Here we were doomed to lie until the ice
should open again and set us free. Some dark objects, which we guessed
were seals, were seen on the edge of the pool. To employ our time, we
set off to try and kill some of them.
Ewen had been eager to distinguish himself as a harpooner, and he and I
went together. Observing a couple of seals, we crawled towards them so
cautiously, that we got near enough, without waking them, to dart our
weapons. As we rose to our feet, I struck mine with all my force into
the head of the animal nearest me, almost pinning it to the ice. Ewen
was not so fortunate, for although he fixed his harpoon into the
animal's body, before he had time to take a turn with the line round a
rough point of ice near at hand, the seal plunged into the water, and
he, holding on to the rope, was dragged after it.
I shouted out to him to let go, which, as may be supposed, he right
willingly did, and fortunately was able to catch hold of my line which I
threw to him, when I hauled him up safe again on the ice. His first
impulse 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 could
have caught the harpoon and line, for I shall be laughed at as a
bungler."
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 commenced
his career with equal want of success.
Several other seals had been killed, and the rest having been frightened
away, as there was no chance of capturing any more, we commenced our
return, Ewen assisting me in dragging our prize to the boat. A few
hours after we got on board, once more the ice opened, and all sail
being made we stood on, our hopes renewed of being able to capture as
many whales as we required.
"We shall have a full ship!" cried the captain, rubbing his hands as we
lay in the pool with a whale on each side, which had been killed within
an hour after we reached the open water. Others were spouting in all
directions, and two boats being away, it was hoped that we should have a
couple of fish ready to take the place of the others, the moment the
flensing was finished. But as I had already seen the rapid way in which
the ice changes its position in those regions, I was not too sanguine.
Scarcely had the blubber from the two whales been stored below, than the
ice was seen to be moving, and as the boats were towing up a third
whale, it began to close in on us, the large pool becoming a broad lane,
while other channels disappeared altogether. Notwithstanding this the
whale was brought alongside, and every effort was made to flense it
rapidly. Still the ice was coming closer and closer. A favourable
breeze just then sprang up, and a narrow lead which ran towards an
expansive pool opened out before us. By remaining where we were we
might get crushed before we could flense the whale, and with great
reluctance 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 that
the spot where we had floated was one sheet of ice.
"Better luck, next time," said our skipper, who was always anxious to
encourage the men.
That luck however was not for us. The lead as we advanced became
blocked up with floating masses, some of them monster icebergs, amid
which we forced our way until the wind dropped.
The boats were now sent ahead, some to tow, others to shove away with
long poles the ice which impeded our progress. At length we reached an
ice hole, when the boats being hoisted on board, we made sail, hoping to
find a lead on the opposite side, but we were to be disappointed--no
opening could be discovered.
We, as usual, made fast to a floe, and the captain after a visit to the
crow's nest, expressed his intention of returning southward.
The announcement was received with a cheer by the crew, but there was no
wind, and we had to wait for a breeze to carry us back the way we had
come. That way was, however, no longer open: the pools were lessening
in size, and in a few hours not a single spot of clear water could be
seen.
Again and again the crow's nest was visited, but each time the same
report was brought. It was very evident that we were closely beset.
Still our brave captain did not despair, and promised that, should the
ice open again, it would not be his fault if the ship failed to make her
way through it.
The object of the voyage, for the time, was entirely forgotten, all we
thought of was to effect our escape. Never for a minute night or day
was the crow's nest empty, some one being always on the look-out to
report the state of the ice. I frequently went aloft. Ice alone was
visible in whichever way I looked: here piled into immense masses, huge
fragments of glaciers detached from the neighbouring shores either of
Greenland or Spitzbergen; there broken hummocky slabs resting against
each other in every variety of form; or else vast level plains, over
which it appeared that a sleigh might travel for miles without
impediment; but water there was none, and I could scarcely hope that
that frozen expanse would ever again break up sufficiently to allow us
to force our way through. We knew that at all events we should have to
encounter, to the southward, the numberless icebergs and the dense floes
through which we had before passed. Had we found my brother David I
fancied that I should have been happy, but his fate was still shrouded
in 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 were
frozen over in the morning. Still we hoped that an equinoctial storm
might break up the ice-fields and set us free. Before, however, we had
been many days in this position, a dark streak was seen to the
southward.
"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 leads
through the ice, and at length some appeared so near that the captain
determined to open a passage through our floe to reach them by blasting
and sawing. Hope revived within us that we should get through.
Laborious as was the process, we persevered. Every fathom gained made
us fancy that we were so much nearer liberty. The wished-for storm at
length began to blow; the ice broke up. All the sail the ship could
bear 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 dense
floe with icebergs ahead: to run against, it would have ensured our
destruction, 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 fog
came on. The sounds which reached us showed that the ice was still in
violent commotion, and, in the hopes that a passage might be found, the
captain dispatched two of the boats to try and find a way.
I went with the first mate. We had gone some distance, when he
announced that he saw an opening, and immediately headed the boat
towards it. Looking up we could see a huge iceberg towering above our
heads. We had great hopes that we had entered a lane through which the
ship might pass, but the thickness of the atmosphere prevented us from
seeing far ahead. The mate however was convinced that he was right, and
we were about to put back when again the wind began to blow with a
violence far greater than before, and the sea tossed and tumbled, moving
the mass of ice about in a manner which threatened our destruction. The
turbulence of the waters proved that the mate was correct in regard to
there being an open sea to the southward, and we bent to our oars with
all our strength, that we might return to the ship, and take advantage
of the opening.
I remember that we were passing close under an iceberg, when I heard a
terrific crash, and all was dark, and I knew that I was beneath the
water. By a violent effort I rose to the surface, and the next instant
found I was clinging to the ice. The force of the sea threw me still
further on the berg until I was beyond the reach of the waves.
My position was awful in the extreme. The snow began to fall, driving
against me with fearful force. I looked round but could nowhere see the
boat or my companions. I alone had been saved from instant death, to
perish, 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 not
judge. Every moment seemed an hour. Looking round, the fall of snow
seemed lessened, and I caught sight of the ship. It appeared to me in
the indistinct light that she was being dashed furiously against the
berg, and that her destruction was inevitable. Should she founder I
knew that my chance of life was slight indeed. I felt inclined to slip
off and terminate my suffering at once, rather than attempt to cling on
until overpowered by the cold; but I felt that it was my duty to prolong
my existence to the last, and I did my best to secure myself by placing
my feet on a ledge below me. I was conscious, however, that my mental
and physical powers were both failing me. I looked for the ship, but
could nowhere see her. Had she, with my brother and all hands,
foundered? Such appeared too probable. Dreadful was the thought. I
was fast sinking into insensibility when I heard a hail, and on looking
down saw Sandy with an ice-pole in his hand, clambering up the berg
towards me. In another moment his arm was around my waist, and I knew
no 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, but
I 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 left
me. 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.