Yet in one week's time a wondrous change came over the spirit of the
scene.
The great whales, the mighty sharks, and the huge sea-elephants, that
for days they had seen tumbling and wallowing in the waters round the
vessel, suddenly disappeared, and even the birds ceased to go whirling
and screaming through the air, and one evening they seemed sailing into
the blackness of darkness. There was a good breeze behind them, but as
night fell--and it came on before its time--so did the wind. And so the
ship lay becalmed, or nearly so. No one went to bed that night. The
darkness was a darkness that could be felt; the air was close,
sulphurous, oppressive, and at midnight the stillness was broken by
explosions of thunder so terrific as to appal the boldest heart on
board. Then the darkness was illuminated by one vast sheet of flame,
that shot upwards from the horizon some miles inland among the ice,
carrying with it smoke and steam and great boulders that burst in the
air with a noise like the loudest artillery.
They were undoubtedly witnessing a volcanic eruption on a terribly grand
scale.
All that night it continued, while the noise of the thunder and the
explosions grew louder and louder, and the flames and lightning
increased in vividness. When at last the clock hands pointed to the
hour of daybreak it still was dark, as far as sunlight was concerned;
the sea was perfectly calm, though every now and then strangely moved,
so that the ship was shaken from stem to stern.
Ashes, too, began to fall till they lay inches deep on the deck, and it
was almost impossible to breathe. At the same time stones fell around
them, hissing and spurting and throwing up volumes of steam as they
reached the water.
It was an awful scene, a never-to-be-forgotten time.
But despite the want of wind, Captain Blunt determined not to be idle.
Boats were got out, and the ship was slowly towed northwards direct.
All that dark and fearful day, and even by the glare of volcanic fires
on the dismal night that succeeded, the men rowed and rowed as for dear
life, and about nine o'clock next morning they saw the sun. It was
gleaming like a great crimson ball through the ash-laden air, but there
it was--the sun; and not a heart of all the crew was there that did not
rejoice, not a soul, I'm sure, that did not breathe its thanks to Him
Who rules on earth and sea.