Far as the eye could reach a scene of bewildering beauty met the vision
of the enchanted boys.
To the far south a level field of snow-covered ice seemed to reach,
while on the east and west were towering walls of ice, between which an
open sheet of water alone admitted of the onward progress of the ship.
Except for this glimpse of the sea, everywhere was ice and snow.
Will surveyed the scene in mute interest for some moments. Then he
turned to Jack, who stood by his side.
“How did we get here?” he asked.
“Drifted, floated and blew, lad,” replied the old boatswain,
sententiously. “The storm took us along, and we couldn’t help it.”
“And we are still going north?” remarked Will.
“Yes, lad; because the ice has closed around us behind. Our hope is of
striking the open sea somewhere and getting back to our old bearings.”
“And if we don’t, Jack?”
“Then we’ll have to lay up alongside some iceberg till the snow melts.”
That day and the ensuing one the ship made but little progress, and
with difficulty several times evaded being crushed in the ice.
The Arctic experienced all the perils of the frozen deep. Ice floes
closing in on it, or the toppling of some immense iceberg, more than
once threatened the safety of the ship and the crew.
An incident of excitement and enjoyment occurred the third day in the
ice fields. A ship--a whaler--was met, like the Arctic seeking the open
sea, and courtesies were exchanged, and the monotony of ocean solitude
broken in upon.
That same night, however, the ships lost one another. A transient thaw
set in, and the ensuing morning the Arctic was driving ahead through a
narrow water-way, with temperature that frosted everything on deck and
warned the crew to prepare for an icy experience.
The Arctic was well provided with the necessary clothing to protect its
crew from the cold. Wrapped in thick coats, even to the boys, they
were enabled to face the icy blast, which each hour grew more intense.
One morning the ship came to a stop. During the night the water-way had
frozen up, and they were unable to proceed farther. Captain Smith made
a calculation of the locality, and announced to the crew that night
that it was probable that they would be compelled to stay where they
were for some time to come.
“When the ice melts or breaks we may be able to reach the open sea
again, but for the present we will go into winter quarters.”
They cut a course for the ship to the shelter of a slanting iceberg,
and then the deck was lightly boarded over. The cabins and forecastle
were made snug and warm, and a monotonous, but not unpleasant, life
began for the ice-imprisoned crew.
Occasionally an expedition would venture out in quest of game or to
explore the neighboring country, but the intense cold made the sailors
chary of these wanderings.
One afternoon an event occurred which led to serious consequences for
the boys.
The sailors had made a large sled, and a run across the ice fields in
quest of a white bear that had been seen prowling in the vicinity, was
suggested.
At Jack Marcy’s solicitation and pledge of careful guardianship, the
three boys were allowed to join the party.
“Don’t go far,” the captain had said, as the party of twelve left the
ship. “All last night I heard distant rumblings, as though the ice was
breaking up around us. It comes quick when it starts.”
The party were provided with guns and other weapons, for use in case
either bears or seals were found, and started off across the ice,
dragging the sled.
When they reached a spot where the larger icebergs prevented the free
progress of the sled, the discovery of some bear tracks caused them to
separate.
It was arranged that Jack, Hugo and the boys should remain in charge of
the sled, while the seven sailors set off in quest of the bear.
Soon, however, the boys grew tired of remaining in one spot, and,
while Jack and Hugo were engaged in conversation, set off on a brief
exploration on their own account.
Scaling this and that berg and exploring the ice caves and sliding on
the smooth plains, they wandered farther than they thought.
“We must return, boys,” said Will with a start, finally. “Why, the
sled ain’t in view.”
“We can find our way back by the snow marks,” said Tom.
They retraced their way more slowly than they had come. As they reached
a high hummock Tom uttered a loud shout.
“What is it?” inquired Will.
“The ship.”
“Can you see the sled?”
“No; it ain’t in sight. Oh, Will, something has happened. Look yonder.”
Will and his companion climbed up to where Tom was.
A singular spectacle met the vision of the trio as they gazed to the
east.
Between them and the open plain over which they had come was an uneven
ridge of hummocks and icebergs shutting out the immediate view beyond.
Far to the east, however, could be seen the Arctic, and it was upon
the ship and the surroundings that the eyes of the watching boys were
riveted.
A strange transformation in the icy scene before them was taking place.
A series of low, crackling sounds were succeeded by loud echoes like
the reports of a cannon.
Beyond the ship, immense icebergs, the moment before fixed to the
landscape, suddenly trembled, toppled and fell.
As they did so, all the eastern expanse seemed to melt into a white,
rushing sea, moved to and fro in gigantic waves, as if by a mighty
tempest.
“The ship! She is lost!” cried the appalled Will.
The iceberg near which the Arctic was moored at that moment parted as
if cleft in twain.
Amid the falling mass of shattered ice and snow, the ship was
temporarily shut out from view.
“Look--the sailors!”
It was Tom who spoke, and, as his companions followed the direction of
his extended finger, they discerned several forms hurrying over the ice
towards the ship.
“Jack and Hugo must be still with the sled,” said Will, anxiously.
“Come, boys; we must find them and endeavor to regain the ship.”
They climbed down and hastened over the uneven ice towards the spot
where they had left the sled.
Amid their confusion they wandered aimlessly over the ice, at last
coming to the verge of the level plain they had left.
A spectacle met their vision which held them spellbound.
The plain was no longer a vast field of ice. Some immense pressure had
cracked its surface into a myriad of fragments. A white, churning sea,
dotted here and there with whirling icebergs, pulsated at their feet.
The Arctic and the men they had seen on the ice had disappeared.
Far in the distance a wall of icebergs receded momentarily farther and
farther from view.
“The Arctic has been borne out of view beyond the icebergs by the
breaking ice,” murmured Will. “The men must have reached the ship in
safety.”
Every minute the broken ice receded from the spot where they stood.
“We must be on solid ground,” said Will; “but, oh, boys, what shall we
do, left here without food or arms or even the fuel for a fire?”
“What!” cried Tom, apprehensively; “you do not think we will not reach
the ship again?”
“How can we?”
“Will they not return and look for us?”
“They may be swept hundreds of miles by the floating ice.”
Tom Dalton and Willis Moore looked concerned and despairing.
“What shall we do?” murmured the latter.
“First seek for Jack and Hugo, who, like ourselves, may not have
reached the Arctic.”
The boys started along the edge of the open waterway.
Suddenly Willis uttered a quick cry of surprise and pointed at an
object ahead of them.
“Look,” he said.
“What is it?” inquired Will, anxiously.
“The sled we used on the ice.”
“And broken to pieces. Oh, boys, Jack and Hugo must have been lost in
the breaking ice!”