A VOICE IN A DREAM.
Entirely free from ice? No. It would have been premature to affirm
this as a fact. A few icebergs were visible in the distance, while
some drifts and packs were still going east. Nevertheless, the
break-up had been very thorough on that side, and the sea was in
reality open, since a ship could sail freely.
"God has come to our aid," said Captain Len Guy. "May He be
pleased to guide us to the end."
"In a week," I remarked, "our schooner might come in sight of
Tsalal Island."
"Provided that the east wind lasts, Mr. Jeorling. Don't forget
that in sailing along the icebergs to their eastern extremity, the
_Halbrane_ went out of her course, and she must be brought back
towards the west."
"The breeze is for us, captain."
"And we shall profit by it, for my intention is to make for Bennet
Islet. It was there that my brother first landed, and so soon as we
shall have sighted that island we shall be certain that we are on
the right route. To-day, when I have ascertained our position
exactly, we shall steer for Bennet Islet."
"Who knows but that we may come upon some fresh sign?"
"It is not impossible, Mr. Jeorling."
I need not say that recourse was had to the surest guide within our
reach, that veracious narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, which I read
and re-read with intense attention, fascinated as I was by the idea
that I might be permitted to behold with my own eyes those strange
phenomena of nature in the Antarctic world which I, in common with
all Edgar Poe's readers, had hitherto regarded as creations of the
most imaginative writer who ever gave voice by his pen to the
phantasies of a unique brain. No doubt a great part of the wonders
of Arthur Gordon Pym's narrative would prove pure fiction, but if
even a little of the marvellous story were found to be true, how
great a privilege would be mine!
The picturesque and wonderful side of the story we were studying as
gospel truth had little charm and but slight interest for Captain
Len Guy; he was indifferent to everything in Pym's narrative that
did not relate directly to the castaways of Tsalal Island: his mind
was solely and constantly set upon their rescue.
According to the narrative of Arthur Pym, the _Jane_ experienced
serious difficulties, due to bad weather, from the 1st to the 4th of
January, 1828. It was not until the morning of the 5th, in latitude
73° 15', that she found a free passage through the last iceberg
that barred her way. The final difference between our position and
the _Jane_ in a parallel case, was that the _Jane_ took fifteen days to
accomplish the distance of ten degrees, or six hundred miles, which
separated her on the 5th of January from Tsalal Island, while on the
19th of December the _Halbrane_ was only about seven degrees, or four
hundred miles, off the island. Bennet Islet, where Captain Guy
intended to put in for twenty-four hours, was fifty miles nearer.
Our voyage was progressing under prosperous conditions; we were no
longer visited by sudden hail and snow storms, or those rapid falls
of temperature which tried the crew of the _Jane_ so sorely. A few
ice-floes drifted by us, occasionally peopled, as tourists throng a
pleasure yacht, by penguins, and also by dusky seals, lying flat
upon the white surfaces like enormous leeches. Above this strange
flotilla we traced the incessant flight of petrels, pigeons, black
puffins, divers, grebe, sterns, cormorants, and the sooty-black
albatross of the high latitudes. Huge medusæ, exquisitely tinted,
floated on the water like spread parasols. Among the denizens of the
deep, captured by the crew of the schooner with line and net, I
noted more particularly a sort of giant John Dory(1) (_dorade_) three
feet in length, with firm and savoury flesh.
During the night, or rather what ought to have been the night of the
19th-20th, my sleep was disturbed by a strange dream. Yes! there
could be no doubt but that it was only a dream! Nevertheless, I
think it well to record it here, because it is an additional
testimony to the haunting influence under which my brain was
beginning to labour.
I was sleeping--at two hours after midnight--and was awakened by a
plaintive and continuous murmuring sound. I opened--or I imagined I
opened my eyes. My cabin was in profound darkness. The murmur began
again; I listened, and it seemed to me that a voice--a voice which
I did not know--whispered these words:--
"Pym . . . Pym . . . poor Pym!"
Evidently this could only be a delusion; unless, indeed, some one
had got into my cabin: the door was not locked.
"Pym!" the voice repeated. "Poor Pym must never be
forgotten."
This time the words were spoken close to my ear. What was the
meaning of the injunction, and why was it addressed to me? And
besides, had not Pym, after his return to America, met with a sudden
and deplorable death, the circumstances or the details being unknown?
I began to doubt whether I was in my right mind, and shook myself
into complete wakefulness, recognizing that I had been disturbed by
an extremely vivid dream due to some cerebral cause.
I turned out of my berth, and, pushing back the shutter, looked out
of my cabin. No one aft on the deck, except Hunt, who was at the
helm.
I had nothing to do but to lie down again, and this I did. It seemed
to me that the name of Arthur Pym was repeated in my hearing several
times; nevertheless, I fell asleep and did not wake until morning,
when I retained only a vague impression of this occurrence, which
soon faded away. No other incident at that period of our voyage
calls for notice. Nothing particular occurred on board our schooner.
The breeze from the north, which had forsaken us, did not recur, and
only the current carried the _Halbrane_ towards the south. This caused
a delay unbearable to our impatience.
At last, on the 21st, the usual observation gave 82° 50' of
latitude, and 42° 20' of west longitude. Bennet Islet, if it had
any existence, could not be far off now.
Yes! the islet did exist, and its bearings were those indicated by
Arthur Pym.
At six o'clock in the evening one of the crew cried out that there
was land ahead on the port side.
(1) The legendary etymology of this piscatorial designation is
_Janitore_, the "door-keeper," in allusion to St. Peter, who
brought a fish, said to be of that species, to our Lord at His
command.