strip of ice, measuring one hundred feet at its base, and scarcely five
hundred in its greatest extent; and on it twenty-one human beings, some
hundred furred animals, a few dogs, and a large bear, which was at this
moment crouching at the very edge!
Yes! all the luckless colonists were there. Not one had yet been
swallowed up. The last rupture had occurred when they were all in the
shed. Thus far fate had spared them, probably that they might all perish
together.
A silent sleepless night ensued. No one spoke or moved, for the
slightest shake or blow might suffice to break the ice.
No one would touch the salt-meat served round by Mrs Joliffe. What would
be the good of eating?
Nearly every one remained in the open air, feeling that it would be
better to be drowned in the open sea than in a narrow wooden shed.
The next day, June 5th, the sun shone brightly down upon the heads of
the doomed band of wanderers. All were still silent, and seemed anxious
to avoid each other. Many gazed with troubled anxious eyes at the
perfect circle of the horizon, of which the miserable little strip of
ice formed the centre. But the sea was absolutely deserted—not a sail,
not an ice-floe, not an islet! Their own piece of ice was probably the
very last floating on the Behring Sea.
The temperature continued to rise. The wind had gone down, and a
terrible calm had set in, a gentle swell heaved the surface of the sea,
and the morsel of earth and ice, which was all that was left of Victoria
Island, rose and sank without change of position, like a wreck—and
what was it but a wreck?
But a wreck, a piece of woodwork, a broken mast, or a few planks, remain
floating; they offer some resistance to the waves, they will not melt;
but this bit of ice, this solidified water, must dissolve with the heat
of the sun!
This piece of ice had formed the thickest part of the island, and this
will explain its having lasted so long. A layer of earth and plenty
of vegetation covered it, and the base of ice must have been of
considerable thickness. The long bitter Polar winters must have “fed
it with fresh ice,” in the countless centuries during which it was
connected with the mainland. Even now its mean height was five or six
feet above the sea level, and its base was probably of about the same
thickness. Although in these quiet waters it was not likely to be
broken, it could not fail gradually to melt, and the rapid dissolution
could actually be watched at the edges, for as the long waves licked
the sides, piece after piece of ground with its verdant covering sank to
rise no more.
On this 5th June a fall of this nature occurred at about one o’clock
P.M., on the site of the shed itself, which was very near the edge of
the ice. There was fortunately no one in it at the time, and all that
was saved was a few planks, and two or three of the timbers of the
roofs. Most of the cooking utensils and all the astronomical instruments
were lost. The colonists were now obliged to take refuge on the highest
part of the islet, where nothing protected them from the weather, but
fortunately a few tools had been left there, with the air pumps and
the air-vessel, which Hobson had employed for catching a little of the
rain-water for drinking purposes, as he no longer dared to draw for a
supply upon the ice, every atom of which was of value.
At about four o’clock P.M., the soldier Kellet, the same who had
already given signs of insanity, came to Mrs Barnett and said quietly—
“I am going to drown myself, ma’am.”
“What, Kellet?” exclaimed the lady.
“I tell you I am going to drown myself,” replied the soldier. “I
have thought the matter well over: there is no escape for us, and I
prefer dying at once to waiting to be killed.”
“Kellet!” said Mrs Barnett, taking the man’s hand and looking into
his face, which was strangely composed, “you will not do that?”
“Yes, I will, ma’am; and as you have always been very good to us
all, I wanted to wish you good-bye. Good-bye, ma’am!”
And Kellet turned towards the sea. Mrs Barnett, terrified at his manner,
threw herself upon him and held him back. Her cries brought Hobson and
Long to her assistance, and they did all in their power to dissuade the
unhappy man from carrying out his purpose, but he was not to be moved,
and merely shook his head.
His mind was evidently disordered, and it was useless to reason with
him. It was a terrible moment, as his example might lead some of his
comrades to commit suicide also. At all hazards he must be prevented
from doing as he threatened.
“Kellet,” said Mrs Barnett gently, with a half smile, “we have
always been very good friends, have we not?”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Kellet calmly.
“Well, Kellet, if you like we will die together, but not to-day.”
“What, ma’am?”
“No, my brave fellow, I am not ready; but to-morrow, to-morrow if you
like.”
The soldier looked more fixedly than ever at the courageous woman, and
seemed to hesitate an instant; then he cast a glance of fierce longing
at the sea, and passing his hand over his eyes, said—
“To-morrow!”
And without another word he quietly turned away and went back to his
comrades.
“Poor fellow.” murmured Mrs Barnett; “I have asked him to wait
till to-morrow, and who can say whether we shall not all be drowned by
that time!”
Throughout that night Hobson remained motionless upon the beach,
pondering whether there might not yet be some means to check the
dissolution of the islet—if it might not yet be possible to preserve
it until they came in sight of land of some sort.
Mrs Barnett and Madge did not leave each other for an instant. Kalumah
crouched like a dog at the feet of her mistress, and tried to keep her
warm. Mrs Mac-Nab, wrapped in a few furs, the remains of the rich stores
of Fort Hope, had fallen into a kind of torpor, with her baby clasped in
her arms.
The stars shone with extraordinary brilliancy, and no sounds broke the
stillness of the night but the rippling of the waves and the splash of
pieces of ice as they fell into the sea. The colonists, stretched upon
the ground in scattered groups, were as motionless as corpses on an
abandoned wreck.
Sometimes Sergeant Long rose and peered into the night-mists, bat seeing
nothing, he resumed his horizontal position. The bear, looking like a
great white snowball, cowered motionless at the very edge of the strip
of ice.
This night also passed away without any incident to modify the
situation. The grey morning dawned in the east, and the sun rose and
dispersed the shadows of the night.
The Lieutenant’s first care, as soon as it was light, was to examine
the piece of ice. Its perimeter was still more reduced, and, alas! its
mean height above the sea level had sensibly diminished. The waves,
quiet as they were, washed over the greater part of it; the summit of
the little hill alone was still beyond their reach.
Long, too, saw the changes which had taken place during the night, and
felt that all hope was gone.
Mrs Barnett joined Lieutenant Hobson, and said to him—
“It will be to-day then!”
“Yes, madam, and you will keep your promise to Kellet!”
“Lieutenant Hobson,” said the lady solemnly, “have we done all in
our power!”
“We have, madam.”
“Then God’s will be done!”
One last attempt was, however, made during the day. A strong breeze set
in from the offing, that is to say, a wind bearing to the south-east,
the direction in which were situated the nearest of the Aleutian
Islands. How far off no one could say, as without instruments the
bearings of the island could not be taken. It was not likely to have
drifted far, however, unless under the influence of the current, as it
gave no hold to the wind.
Still it was just possible that they might be nearer land than they
thought. If only a current, the direction of which it was impossible
to ascertain, had taken them nearer to the much-longed-for Aleutian
Islands, then, as the wind was bearing down upon those very islands, it
might drive the strip of ice before it if a sail of some kind could
be concocted. The ice had still several hours to float, and in several
hours the land might come in sight, or, if not the land, some coasting
or fishing vessel.
A forlorn hope truly, but it suggested an idea to the Lieutenant which
he resolved to carry out. Could not a sail be contrived on the islet
as on an ordinary raft? There could be no difficulty in that; and when
Hobson suggested it to Mac-Nab, he exclaimed—
“You are quite right, sir;” adding to his men, “bring out all the
canvas there is!”
Every one was quite revived by this plan, slight as was the chance it
afforded, and all lent a helping hand, even Kellet, who had not yet
reminded Mrs Barnett of her promise.
A beam, which had once formed part of the roof of the barracks, was sunk
deep into the earth and sand of which the little hill was composed, and
firmly fixed with ropes arranged like shrouds and a stay. A sail made
of all the clothes and coverlets still remaining fastened on to a strong
pole for a yard, was hoisted on the mast This sail, or rather collection
of sails, suitably set, swelled in the breeze, and by the wake it left,
it was evident that the strip of ice was rapidly moving towards the
south-east.
It was a success, and every one was cheered with newly-awakened hope.
They were no longer stationary; they were advancing slowly, it was true,
but still they were advancing. The carpenter was particularly elated;
all eagerly scanned the horizon, and had they been told that no land
could be sighted, they would have refused to believe it.
So it appeared, however; for the strip of ice floated along on the waves
for three hours in the centre of an absolutely circular and unbroken
horizon. The poor colonists still hoped on.
Towards three o’clock, the Lieutenant took the Sergeant aside, and
said to him—
“We are advancing at the cost of the solidity and duration of our
islet.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“I mean that the ice is being rapidly fretted away as it moves along.
Its speed is hastening its dissolution, and since we set sail it has
diminished one-third.”
“Are you quite sure?”
“Absolutely certain. The ice is longer and flatter. Look, the sea la
not more than ten feet from the hill!”
It was true, and the result was what might naturally have been expected
from the motion of the ice.
“Sergeant,” resumed Hobson, “do you think we ought to take down
our sail?”
“I think,” replied Long, after a moment’s reflection, “that we
should consult our comrades. We ought all to share the responsibility of
a decision now.”
The Lieutenant bent his head in assent, and the two returned to their
old position on the little hill.
Hobson put the case before the whole party.
“The speed we have given to the ice,” he said, “is causing it to
wear away rapidly, and will perhaps hasten the inevitable catastrophe
by a few hours. My friends, you must decide whether we shall still go
on.”
“Forwards!” cried all with one voice.
So it was decided, and, as it turned out, the decision was fraught with
consequences of incalculable importance.
At six o’clock P.M. Madge rose, and pointing to a point on the
south-east, cried—
“Land!”
Every one started up as if struck by lightning. Land there was indeed,
on the south-east, twelve miles from the island.
“More sail! more sail!” shouted Hobson.
He was understood, and fresh materials were hastily brought. On
the shrouds a sort of studding sail was rigged up of clothes, furs,
everything, in short, that could give hold to the wind.
The speed increased as the wind freshened, but the ice was melting
everywhere; it trembled beneath the feet of the anxious watchers, and
might open at any moment. But they would not think of that; they were
buoyed up with hope; safety was at hand, on the land they were rapidly
nearing. They shouted—they made signals—they were in a delirium of
excitement.
At half-past seven the ice was much nearer the land, but it was visibly
melting, and sinking rapidly; water was gushing from it, and the waves
were washing over it, sweeping off the terrified quadrupeds before the
eyes of the colonists. Every instant they expected the whole mass to
be engulfed, and it was necessary to lighten it like a sinking vessel.
Every means was tried to check the dissolution; the earth and sand were
carefully spread about, especially at the edges of the ice, to protect
it from the direct influence of the sunbeams; and furs were laid here
and there, as being bad conductors of heat. But it was all of no avail;
the lower portion of the ice began to crack, and several fissures opened
in the surface. It was now but a question of moments!
Night set in, and there was nothing left for the poor colonists to do
to quicken the speed of the islet. Some of them tried to paddle about on
planks. The coast was still four miles to windward.
It was a dark gloomy night, without any moon, and Hobson, whose heroic
courage did not even now fail him, shouted—
“A signal, my friends! a signal!” A pile was made of all the
remaining combustibles—two or three planks and a beam. It was set fire
to, and bright flames soon shot up, but the strip of ice continued to
melt and sink. Presently the little hill alone remained above water, and
on it the despairing wretches, with the few animals left alive, huddled
together, the bear growling fiercely.
The water was still rising, and there was no sign that any one on land
had seen the signal. In less than a quarter of an hour they must all be
swallowed up.
Could nothing be done to make the ice last longer? In three hours, three
short hours, they might reach the land, which was now but three miles to
windward.
“Oh!” cried Hobson, “if only I could stop the ice from melting! I
would give my life to know how! Yes, I would give my life!”
“There is one way,” suddenly replied a voice.
It was Thomas Black who spoke, the astronomer, who had not opened his
lips for so long, and who had long since appeared dead to all that was
going on.
“Yes,” he continued, “there is one way of checking the dissolution
of the ice—there is one way of saving us all.”
All gathered eagerly round the speaker, and looked at him inquiringly.
They thought they must have misheard what he said.
“Well!” asked Hobson, “what way do you mean?”
“To the pumps!” replied Black simply.
Was he mad? Did he take the ice for a sinking vessel, with ten feet of
water in the hold?
The air pumps were at hand, together with the air vessel, which Hobson
had been using as a reservoir for drinking water, but of what use could
they be? Could they harden the ice, which was melting all over?
“He is mad!” exclaimed Long.
“To the pumps!” repeated the astronomer; “fill the reservoir with
air!”
“Do as he tells you!” cried Mrs Barnett.
The pumps were attached to the reservoir, the cover of which was closed
and bolted. The pumps were then at once set to work, and the air was
condensed under the pressure of several atmospheres. Then Black, taking
one of the leather pipes connected with the reservoir, and opening the
cock, let the condensed air escape, walking round the ice wherever it
was melting.
Every one was astonished at the effect produced. Wherever the air was
projected by the astronomer, the fissures filled up, and the surface
re-froze.
“Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted all with one voice.
It was tiring enough to work the pumps, but there were plenty of
volunteers. The edges of the ice were again solidified, as if under the
influence of intense cold.
“You have saved us, Mr Black,” said Lieutenant Hobson.
“Nothing could be more natural,” replied the astronomer quietly.
Nothing, in fact, could have been more natural; and the physical effect
produced may be described as follows:—
There were two reasons for the relegation:—First, under the pressure
of the air, the water vaporised on the surface of the ice produced
intense cold, and the compressed air in expanding abstracted the heat
from the thawed surface, which immediately re-froze. Wherever the ice
was opening the cold cemented the edges, so that it gradually regained
its original solidity.
This went on for several hours, and the colonists, buoyed up by hope,
toiled on with unwearying zeal.
They were nearing the coast, and when they were about a quarter of a
mile from it, the bear plunged into the sea, and swimming to the shore,
soon disappeared.
A few minutes afterwards the ice ran aground upon a beach, and the
few animals still upon it hurried away in the darkness. The colonists
“disembarked,” and falling on their knees, returned thanks to God
for their miraculous deliverance.