ATTACKED BY ICEBERGS
Hatteras, after seeing to the anchoring of his ship, re-entered his
cabin and examined his map attentively. He found himself in latitude
76 degrees 57 minutes and longitude 99 degrees 20 minutes--that is
to say, at only three minutes from the 77th parallel. It was at this
very spot that Sir Edward Belcher passed his first winter with the
_Pioneer_ and the _Assistance_. It was thence that he organised his
sledge and boat excursions. He discovered Table Isle, North Cornwall,
Victoria Archipelago, and Belcher Channel. He reached the 78th
parallel, and saw that the coast was depressed on the south-east.
It seemed to go down to Jones's Strait, the entrance to which lies
in Baffin's Bay. But to the north-west, on the contrary, says his
report, an open sea lay as far as the eye could reach.
Hatteras considered attentively the white part of the map, which
represented the Polar basin free from ice.
"After such testimony as that of Stewart, Penny, and Belcher, I can't
have a doubt about it," he said to himself. "They saw it with their
own eyes. But if the winter has already frozen it! But no; they made
their discoveries at intervals of several years. It exists, and I
shall find it! I shall see it."
Hatteras went on to the poop. An intense fog enveloped the _Forward_;
the masthead could scarcely be distinguished from the deck. However,
Hatteras called down the ice-master from his crow's nest, and took
his place. He wished to profit by the shortest clear interval to
examine the north-western horizon. Shandon did not let the occasion
slip for saying to the lieutenant:
"Well, Wall, where is the open sea?"
"You were right, Shandon, and we have only six weeks' coal in the
hold."
"Perhaps the doctor will find us some scientific fuel to warm us in
the place of coal," answered Shandon. "I have heard say you can turn
fire to ice; perhaps he'll turn ice to fire." And he entered his cabin,
shrugging his shoulders. The next day was the 20th of August, and
the fog cleared away for several minutes. They saw Hatteras look
eagerly at the horizon, and then come down without speaking; but it
was easy to see that his hopes had again been crushed. The _Forward_
weighed anchor, and took up her uncertain march northward. As the
_Forward_ began to be weather-worn, the masts were unreeved, for they
could no longer rely on the variable wind, and the sails were nearly
useless in the winding channels. Large white marks appeared here and
there on the sea like oil spots; they presaged an approaching frost;
as soon as the breeze dropped the sea began to freeze immediately;
but as soon as the wind got up again, the young ice was broken up
and dispersed. Towards evening the thermometer went down to 17
degrees.
When the brig came to a closed-up pass she acted as a battering ram,
and ran at full steam against the obstacle, which she sunk. Sometimes
they thought she was stopped for good; but an unexpected movement
of the streams opened her a new passage, and she took advantage of
it boldly. When the brig stopped, the steam which escaped from the
safety-pipes was condensed by the cold air and fell in snow on to
the deck. Another impediment came in the way; the ice-blocks sometimes
got entangled in the paddles, and they were so hard that all the
strength of the machine was not sufficient to break them; it was then
necessary to back the engine and send men to clear the screws with
their handspikes. All this delayed the brig; it lasted thirteen days.
The _Forward_ dragged herself painfully along Penny Strait; the crew
grumbled, but obeyed: the men saw now that it was impossible to go
back. Keeping north was less dangerous than retreating south. They
were obliged to think about wintering. The sailors talked together
about their present position, and one day they mentioned it to Richard
Shandon, who, they knew, was on their side. The second officer forgot
his duty as an officer, and allowed them to discuss the authority
of the captain before him.
"You say, then, Mr. Shandon, that we can't go back now?" said Gripper.
"No, it's too late now," answered Shandon.
"Then we must think about wintering," said another sailor.
"It's the only thing we can do. They wouldn't believe me."
"Another time," said Pen, who had been released, "we shall believe
you."
"But as I am not the master----" replied Shandon.
"Who says you mayn't be?" answered Pen. "John Hatteras may go as far
as he likes, but we aren't obliged to follow him."
"You all know what became of the crew that did follow him in his first
cruise to Baffin's Sea?" said Gripper.
"And the cruise of the _Farewell_ under him that got lost in the
Spitzbergen seas!" said Clifton.
"He was the only man that came back," continued Gripper.
"He and his dog," answered Clifton.
"We won't die for his pleasure," added Pen.
"Nor lose the bounty we've been at so much trouble to earn," cried
Clifton. "When we've passed the 78th degree--and we aren't far off
it, I know--that will make just the 375 pounds each."
"But," answered Gripper, "shan't we lose it if we go back without
the captain?"
"Not if we prove that we were obliged to," answered Clifton.
"But it's the captain----"
"You never mind, Gripper," answered Pen; "we'll have a captain and
a good one--that Mr. Shandon knows. When one commander goes mad, folks
have done with him, and they take another; don't they, Mr. Shandon?"
Shandon answered evasively that they could reckon upon him, but that
they must wait to see what turned up. Difficulties were getting thick
round Hatteras, but he was as firm, calm, energetic, and confident
as ever. After all, he had done in five months what other navigators
had taken two or three years to do! He should be obliged to winter
now, but there was nothing to frighten brave sailors in that. Sir
John Ross and McClure had passed three successive winters in the
Arctic regions. What they had done he could do too!
"If I had only been able to get up Smith Strait at the north of Baffin's
Sea, I should be at the Pole by now!" he said to the doctor regretfully.
"Never mind, captain!" answered the doctor, "we shall get at it by
the 99th meridian instead of by the 75th; if all roads lead to Rome,
it's more certain still that all meridians lead to the Pole."
On the 31st of August the thermometer marked 13 degrees. The end of
the navigable season was approaching; the _Forward_ left Exmouth
Island to the starboard, and three days after passed Table Island
in the middle of Belcher Channel. At an earlier period it would perhaps
have been possible to regain Baffin's Sea by this channel, but it
was not to be dreamt of then; this arm of the sea was entirely
barricaded by ice; ice-fields extended as far as the eye could reach,
and would do so for eight months longer. Happily they could still
gain a few minutes further north on the condition of breaking up the
ice with huge clubs and petards. Now the temperature was so low, any
wind, even a contrary one, was welcome, for in a calm the sea froze
in a single night. The _Forward_ could not winter in her present
situation, exposed to winds, icebergs, and the drift from the channel;
a shelter was the first thing to find; Hatteras hoped to gain the
coast of New Cornwall, and to find above Albert Point a bay of refuge
sufficiently sheltered. He therefore pursued his course northward
with perseverance. But on the 8th an impenetrable ice-bank lay in
front of him, and the temperature was at 10 degrees. Hatteras did
all he could to force a passage, continually risking his ship and
getting out of danger by force of skill. He could be accused of
imprudence, want of reflection, folly, blindness, but he was a good
sailor, and one of the best! The situation of the _Forward_ became
really dangerous; the sea closed up behind her, and in a few hours
the ice got so hard that the men could run along it and tow the ship
in all security.
Hatteras found he could not get round the obstacle, so he resolved
to attack it in front; he used his strongest blasting cylinders of
eight to ten pounds of powder; they began by making a hole in the
thick of the ice, and filled it with snow, taking care to place the
cylinder in a horizontal position, so that a greater portion of the
ice might be submitted to the explosion; lastly, they lighted the
wick, which was protected by a gutta-percha tube. They worked at the
blasting, as they could not saw, for the saws stuck immediately in
the ice. Hatteras hoped to pass the next day. But during the night
a violent wind raged, and the sea rose under her crust of ice as if
shaken by some submarine commotion, and the terrified voice of the
pilot was heard crying:
"Look out aft!"
Hatteras turned to the direction indicated, and what he saw by the
dim twilight was frightful. A high iceberg, driven back north, was
rushing on to the ship with the rapidity of an avalanche.
"All hands on deck!" cried the captain.
The rolling mountain was hardly half a mile off; the blocks of ice
were driven about like so many huge grains of sand; the tempest raged
with fury.
"There, Mr. Clawbonny," said Johnson to the doctor, "we are in
something like danger now."
"Yes," answered the doctor tranquilly, "it looks frightful enough."
"It's an assault we shall have to repulse," replied the boatswain.
"It looks like a troop of antediluvian animals, those that were
supposed to inhabit the Pole. They are trying which shall get here
first!"
"Well," added Johnson, "I hope we shan't get one of their spikes into
us!"
"It's a siege--let's run to the ramparts!"
And they made haste aft, where the crew, armed with poles, bars of
iron, and handspikes, were getting ready to repulse the formidable
enemy. The avalanche came nearer, and got bigger by the addition of
the blocks of ice which it caught in its passage; Hatteras gave orders
to fire the cannon in the bow to break the threatening line. But it
arrived and rushed on to the brig; a great crackling noise was heard,
and as it struck on the brig's starboard a part of her barricading
was broken. Hatteras gave his men orders to keep steady and prepare
for the ice. It came along in blocks; some of them weighing several
hundredweight came over the ship's side; the smaller ones, thrown
up as high as the topsails, fell in little spikes, breaking the shrouds
and cutting the rigging. The ship was boarded by these innumerable
enemies, which in a block would have crushed a hundred ships like
the _Forward_. Some of the sailors were badly wounded whilst trying
to keep off the ice, and Bolton had his left shoulder torn open. The
noise was deafening. Dick barked with rage at this new kind of enemy.
The obscurity of the night came to add to the horror of the situation,
but did not hide the threatening blocks, their white surface reflected
the last gleams of light. Hatteras's orders were heard in the midst
of the crew's strange struggle with the icebergs. The ship giving
way to the tremendous pressure, bent to the larboard, and the
extremity of her mainyard leaned like a buttress against the iceberg
and threatened to break her mast.
Hatteras saw the danger; it was a terrible moment; the brig threatened
to turn completely over, and the masting might be carried away. An
enormous block, as big as the steamer itself, came up alongside her
hull; it rose higher and higher on the waves; it was already above
the poop; it fell over the _Forward_. All was lost; it was now upright,
higher than the gallant yards, and it shook on its foundation. A cry
of terror escaped the crew. Everyone fled to starboard. But at this
moment the steamer was lifted completely up, and for a little while
she seemed to be suspended in the air, and fell again on to the
ice-blocks; then she rolled over till her planks cracked again. After
a minute, which appeared a century, she found herself again in her
natural element, having been turned over the ice-bank that blocked
her passage by the rising of the sea.
"She's cleared the ice-bank!" shouted Johnson, who had rushed to the
fore of the brig.
"Thank God!" answered Hatteras.
The brig was now in the midst of a pond of ice, which hemmed her in
on every side, and though her keel was in the water, she could not
move; she was immovable, but the ice-field moved for her.
"We are drifting, captain!" cried Johnson.
"We must drift," answered Hatteras; "we can't help ourselves."
When daylight came, it was seen that the brig was drifting rapidly
northward, along with a submarine current. The floating mass carried
the _Forward_ along with it. In case of accident, when the brig might
be thrown on her side, or crushed by the pressure of the ice, Hatteras
had a quantity of provisions brought up on deck, along with materials
for encamping, the clothes and blankets of the crew. Taking example
from Captain McClure under similar circumstances, he caused the brig
to be surrounded by a belt of hammocks, filled with air, so as to
shield her from the thick of the damage; the ice soon accumulated
under a temperature of 7 degrees, and the ship was surrounded by a
wall of ice, above which her masts only were to be seen. They navigated
thus for seven days; Point Albert, the western extremity of New
Cornwall, was sighted on the 10th of September, but soon disappeared;
from thence the ice-field drifted east. Where would it take them to?
Where should they stop? Who could tell? The crew waited, and the men
folded their arms. At last, on the 15th of September, about three
o'clock in the afternoon, the ice-field, stopped, probably, by
collision with another field, gave a violent shake to the brig, and
stood still. Hatteras found himself out of sight of land in latitude
78 degrees 15 minutes and longitude 95 degrees 35 minutes in the midst
of the unknown sea, where geographers have placed the Frozen Pole.