ROUNDING CAPE HORN.
Mr. Gusher, with his pride wounded, and a heavy heart, took leave of the
Chapmans early on the following morning, and crossed the ferry on his
way back to New York. The black bucket containing the capital stock of
the great Kidd Discovery Company, in which his fancy pictured a dozen or
more fortunes, and which he bore with him, afforded no relief for his
disappointment. It might be the means of his owning a fine house, riding
in his own carriage, and being considered a rich man by society. But,
after all, riches only embodied the hard features of dollars and cents.
Who could find romance in the pursuit of dollars and cents? he thought.
You could carry fame into the grave with you. Dollars and cents might
buy you a fine coffin, and bring rich friends to your funeral; but they
left you at the tomb door.
Had Mr. Gusher gone back to New York in the belief that he had made an
impression on the affections of that pretty, simple-hearted country
girl, Mattie Chapman, what a happy man he would have been. He resolved,
however, not to be vanquished in this way--not to give it up--but to
continue his attentions, and if possible gain a victory over her
affections.
And now, gentle reader, you must accompany me to a very different part
of the globe, and see what is going on there.
The ship Pacific had been refitted and put in sailing order at Bahia,
and was now on her course for the Straits of Magellan. On reaching the
latitude of the straits strong adverse winds set in, and gale succeeded
gale until the sea became lashed into a tempest. The weather, too, was
biting cold, and the crew suffered intensely. Not a gleam of sun had
been seen for three weeks, and the ship's progress had to be worked by
dead reckoning.
Morning after morning the sturdy old captain would come on deck, thrust
his hands deep into the pockets of his pea-jacket, and look intently
over the wild watery scene. Then he would shake his head despondingly.
"Never caught it this way afore," he would say, addressing the officer
of the watch. "Never caught it this way afore. Somebody's brought bad
luck aboard, or we should'nt have such weather as this." Then he would
disappear into the cabin and ponder over his chart, trying to work out
the ship's position. But a strong current and the high wind, both
setting in one direction, had carried him far beyond his reckoning, and
into the vicinity of the Faulkland Islands.
All the light spars had been sent down, and for fifteen days the ship
had labored in the sea under close-reefed topsails and jib, trying to
make weather, but without gaining a mile.
On the sixteenth day the weather cleared up a little and the sun came
out, and an observation was got, which showed that the ship had been
carried into the vicinity before described. For once the sturdy old
whale-killer had got drifted away from his course. But he declared it
was all owing to the sea getting tipsy, the compasses getting tipsy, the
chronometers getting tipsy, and the sun keeping himself rolled up in a
blanket. You could'nt, he said, get a ship to look the wind in the eye
when all the elements were tipsy. He was a lucky mariner who could get
round Cape Horn without being tossed off his feet for a
month--everything seemed to stagger so.
The wind now changed suddenly and blew as fiercely from the opposite
direction, and the cold increased. The ship was at once got on her
course for the straits, her reefs were shook out, and she bowled over
the sea at the rate of nine knots. Still the sky continued black and
cloudy, and the horizon misty and dim. The sea ran high, and broke and
surged, filling the air with a cold, cutting spray, while the ship
labored and strained in every timber.
Have you, my gentle reader, ever seen the broad ocean in an angry mood
on a cold, pitiless winter day, when the horizon was hung with cold,
penetrating mist, when all overhead was black with fleeting clouds, when
the seas broke in their fury and threatened to destroy the frail bark
under your feet, and when rain, hail, and snow alternately swept through
the atmosphere, like showers of keen-pointed arrows--have you, I say,
ever contemplated this sublime and impressive scene without
acknowledging within yourself how omnipotent was God, and how feeble and
insignificant a thing was man?
There is, perhaps, no other place in the world where Nature so combines
all her elements to give an emphatic expression to the power and reality
of the Divinity, as in the vicinity of this famous old Cape.
The bold, rugged headlands of Patagonia were sighted on the morning of
the 4th of December. The wind had subsided a little, but a strong
current was setting through the straits, and short, sharp seas, such as
are experienced in the Bay of Fundy, indicated the ship's position as
clearly as if a good observation had been got. Snow and ice nearly
covered the ship, and the men continued to suffer from the cold. There
was a feeling of encouragement now that the ship would round the Cape
without any further trouble. But before noon a violent snow storm set
in, and the bold, bleak hills of Patagonia disappeared from sight. The
wind, too, veered ahead again and increased, and the ship had to be
headed for the coast of Terra del Fuego, on the other tack.
Early on the following morning the look-out's attention was attracted by
large spots of white light--now opening, now shutting--high up in the
heavens ahead. It was Tite's watch on deck, and the look-out pointed him
to the curious phenomena, which had not before attracted his attention.
At the same time a painful and piercing chill seemed to pervade the
atmosphere, and to seriously affect the feelings of the men on deck.
Tite watched these curious phenomena for several minutes, without
comprehending what they meant. He thereupon called the captain, who came
quickly on deck. As soon as his eye caught the gleam of light, he walked
aft to the binnacle, and stood watching the compasses for a minute or
two.
"There's trouble ahead," he said. "Call Mr. Higgins, and all hands--call
them quickly. We are close upon an iceberg."
The first officer and all hands were quickly on deck, ready to obey
orders. Every eye on board was now watching in the direction of the
light.
"It's an iceberg, and a big one, too, Mr. Higgins. If she strikes it,
there's an end of us!" said Captain Bottom, addressing the first
officer, who seemed indifferent to the danger that threatened the ship.
A rustling noise, as of strong tide-rips breaking ahead, was heard, the
sound increasing every minute. The braces were now manned, the order to
"go about" given, and the helm put down. But the ship had hardly begun
to gather headway on the other tack, when she refused to obey her helm.
It seemed, indeed, as if she was under the influence of a powerful
attraction, drawing her to destruction.
Another minute and she struck with a deep, crashing sound, that made
every timber in her frame vibrate, so great was the shock. A gleam of
grey light now began to spread over the fearful scene. It was daylight,
that friend which so often comes to the mariner's relief. The ship had
struck broad on, and the berg seemed to have grasped her in its arms of
death and refused to let her go. Each succeeding sea lifted the helpless
ship, and then tossed her with increasing violence against the jagged
ice-cliff. And as her yards raked the boulders, huge blocks fell with
crushing force on her deck. Stanchions were started, the bulwarks
crushed away from the knight-heads to the quarter-deck, on the port
side, and the deck stove in several places. It seemed as if there was
but a minute between those on board and death. Still the staunch old
ship forged ahead, lifting and surging with every sea, and seeming to
struggle to free herself from the grasp of the berg. All hope of saving
the ship seemed gone now. Both officers and men waited in suspense,
expecting, every lurch the ship made, to see her go to pieces.
It was one of those moments when presence of mind and seamanship seem of
no avail to save a ship. On sounding the pumps it was found that the
ship's hull was still tight, and that she had made but little water.
Still she forged ahead, and great blocks of ice continued to fall on her
deck.
When all eyes were turned towards the captain, and each waited with
breathless anxiety, in the hope that he would give some order that would
at least be a relief to their feelings, even though it were folly to
execute it, Tite mounted the fore-rigging to the top-mast trees, the
surging ship threatening to dash him against the ice wall every minute.
In that fearful position he remained for several minutes, scanning over
the scene ahead, and hoping for some gleam of hope.
There was still a hope of saving the ship. He waved a signal of
encouragement to those below, and quickly descended to the deck. About
half or three-quarters of a mile ahead there was a point indicating the
termination of the berg. If the ship could be kept forging ahead she
might possibly round the point and clear the berg in safety.
Tite communicated to the captain what he had seen, and his belief that
the ship could be saved. All hands now went to work cheerfully, clearing
the deck forward of the ice that had accumulated there. Then the
fore-top-sail was clewed up, the spanker set, the yards braced up sharp,
and the ship continued forging ahead with increased motion. Every yard
of distance gained was measured with a watchful eye, and increased the
confidence of those on board.
"We shall save her yet, captain," said Tite, a smile of satisfaction
playing over his face. "We won't give up the good old ship!"
"God bless you, my hearty, God bless you!" returned the old captain,
grasping Tite's hand warmly. "It's you shall have the credit of it if
she weathers the point. Yes, sir, you. Killin' a whale is killin' a
whale. Gives a sailor fair play in a square fight. But this being run
down by an iceberg, and ship and all hands crushed to powder, gives a
sailor no chance to show what there is in him. When a man gets killed
according to his liking, why, then he's satisfied. But there's no way
you could get satisfaction in being killed by an iceberg. It was'nt my
own life I was thinking about, Mr. Toodlebug. Not a bit of it." Here he
again grasped Tite firmly by the hand, and lowered his voice to a
whisper. "It was my good old woman, sir, and the two little ones. Heaven
bless them and keep them from harm!"
The ship still made fearful surges, and the ice grated and cut her
planking; but she neared the point gradually, and this brought a feeling
of relief to all on board. Open water beyond, and the bold, sharp lines
of the point, made it almost certain that the berg terminated there. The
point was reached at last. The ship seemed to give a leap ahead, and, as
if by mutual consent, payed off and parted from the icy grasp of the
monster. Cheer after cheer went up as the old ship, in her distressed
condition, swung away and was out of danger.
The ship was now headed for Puntas Arenas, where many years ago the
Spaniards founded a penal settlement. Intermarrying has, however,
reduced the people to mere dwarfs in stature; and they have so
retrograded in civilization that they are the greatest thieves and the
worst savages to be found along the coast.