A COLLISION
Jack scorned everything of the kind, and he ate his piece with as much
gusto as if it had passed through the hands of a professional cook.
The boys managed to dispose of considerable, so that it may be said
the little party made a fair meal from the supply so unexpectedly
provided them.
The primitive meal finished, the three friends remained seated and
discussed the future, which was now the all-important question before
them.
"How long is this fog likely to last?" asked Fred.
"No one can answer that," replied Jack; "a brisk wind may drive it
away, a rain would soon finish it, or it may go before colder weather,
or it may last several days."
"Meanwhile we can do nothing but drift."
"That's about all we can do any way," was the truthful remark of the
sailor; "we'll make the bear last as long as we can."
"I think he will last a good while," observed Rob, with a
half-disgusted look at the carcass; "it will do when there's nothing
else to be had, but I never can fancy it without cooking."
At that moment they received a startling shock. A peculiar shiver or
jar passed through the iceberg, as though from a prodigious blow that
was felt through every part--an impossible occurrence.
"What can that mean?" asked the lads, in consternation.
"By the great horned spoon!" was the reply of the frightened Jack; "I
hope we won't feel it again."
"But what is it?"
"The berg scraped the bottom of the sea just then. There it goes
again!"
A shock, fully as violent as before, went through and through the vast
mass of ice. It lasted only a second or two, but the sensations of the
party were like those of the housekeeper who wakes in the night, to
feel his dwelling swaying under the grasp of the earthquake.
None needed to be told of the possible consequences of drifting into
shallow water. If the base of the iceberg, extending far down into the
depths of the ocean, should strike some projecting mountain peak of
the deep, or a plateau, the berg was liable to overturn, with an
appalling rush, beyond the power of mind to conceive. In such an event
there was no more chance of the party saving themselves than there
would be in the crater of a bursting volcano.
Well might they look blankly in each other's faces, for they were
helpless within the grasp of a power that was absolutely resistless.
They sat silent and waiting, but, as minute after minute passed,
without the shock being repeated, hope returned, and they ventured to
speak in undertones, as though fearful that the sound of their voices
would precipitate the calamity.
"That satisfies me I was right," said Jack, compressing his lips and
shaking his head.
"In what respect?" asked Fred.
"We're drifting toward the North Pole, and we are not far from the
Greenland coast."
"But are there not shallow places in the ocean, hundreds of miles from
land, where such a great iceberg as this might touch bottom?"
"Yes, but there are not many in this part of the world. The thing may
swing out of this current, or get into another which will start it
southward, but I don't believe it has done it yet."
"Sailing on an iceberg is worse than I imagined," was the comment of
Rob; "I'm more anxious than ever to leave this; it isn't often that a
passenger feels like complaining of the bigness of the craft that
bears him over the deep, but that's the trouble in this case."
"If the capsize does come," said Jack, "it will be the end of us; we
would be buried hundreds of fathoms under the ice."
"There can be no doubt of that, but I say, Jack, isn't there something
off yonder? I can't make it out, but it seems to me that it is more
than the fog."
While the three were talking, Fred Warburton was seated so as to face
the open sea, the others being turned sideways and giving no heed to
that point of the compass.
It will be remembered that at this time they were inclosed in the
all-pervading fog, which prevented them seeing as far as the length of
the mountain of ice on which they were seated. Turning toward the
water and peering outward, they saw the cause of the boy's question.
The vapor itself appeared to be assuming shape, vague, indistinct,
undefined, and almost invisible, but nevertheless perceptible to all.
The sailor was the first to see what it meant. Leaping to his feet he
emitted his favorite exclamation:
"By the great horned spoon! it's another berg!"
With awful slowness and certainty the mass of fog disclosed more and
more distinctly the misty contour that had caught the eye of Fred
Warburton. At first it was like a pile of denser fog, rolling along
the surface of the sea, but the outlines became more distinct each
moment, until the form of an iceberg was clearly marked in the wet
atmosphere.
The new one was much smaller than that upon which they were afloat,
but it was of vast proportions for all that, enough to crush the
largest ship that ever floated, as though it were but a toy in its
path.
But the fearful fact about its appearance was that the two bergs were
approaching each other, under the influence of adverse currents!
A collision was inevitable, and the boys contemplated it with hardly
less dismay than they did the overturning of the larger one a short
time before.
"This is no place for us!" called out Jack, the moment after his
exclamation; "let's get out!"
He started up the path from which the polar bear had come, with his
young friends at his heels. They did not stop until they could go no
farther, when they turned about and shudderingly awaited the
catastrophe that was at hand.
Their withdrawal from the edge of the iceberg to a point some distance
away dimmed their vision, but the smaller berg was easily
distinguished through the obscurity.
The two continued to approach with a slowness that could hardly have
caused a shock in a couple of ships, but where the two masses were so
enormous the momentum was beyond calculation.
The frightful crisis was not without its grim humor. The boys braced
themselves against the expected crash as if in a railway train with a
collision at hand. They lost sight of the fact that no force in nature
could produce any such sudden jarring and jolting as they apprehended.
The two bergs seemed to be lying side by side, within a few inches
really, but without actually touching.
"Why don't they strike?" asked Rob, in an awed whisper.
"There it comes!" exclaimed Fred; "hold fast!"
The smaller berg was seen to sway and bow, as if that, too, had swept
against the bottom of the sea, and it was shaken through every part.
But amazing fact to the lads! they felt only the slightest possible
tremor pass through the support upon which they had steadied
themselves against the expected shock.
The smaller berg acted like some monster that has received a mortal
hurt. It seemed to be striving to disentangle itself from the fatal
embrace of its conqueror, but was unable to do so. Nearly conical in
shape, a peak rose more than a hundred feet in air, ending in a
tapering point almost as delicate as a church spire.
The crash of the immense bodies caused the breaking off of this icy
monument a couple of rods from the top, and the mass, weighing many
tons toppled over and fell upon the larger berg with a violence that
shattered it into thousands of fragments, bits of which were carried
to the feet of the awed party. Then, as if the smaller one saw that it
was idle to resist longer, it began moving with the larger, which
forced it along its own course as a tug pushes a floating chip in
front of it.
The danger was over, if, indeed, there had been any danger. It was a
minute or two before the boys comprehended it all, but when Rob did,
he sprang to his feet and swung his cap over his head.
"Hurrah for our side! We beat 'em hands down!"
"I fancy it is quite safe to count on our keeping the right of way,"
added Fred, whose mental relief at the outcome was as great as his
companion's. "I thought we would be tumbled about when the two came
together, as if we were in an overturned wagon, but I can understand
now how that could never be."
"But wait till we butt against an iceberg bigger than ours," said Rob,
with a shake of his head.