WINTER ENDS--THE FIRST INSECT--PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE--NARROW
ESCAPE--CUTTING OUT--ONCE MORE AFLOAT--SHIP ON FIRE--CREW TAKE TO THE
BOATS.
Winter passed away, with its darkness and its frost, and, happily, with
its sorrows; and summer--bright, glowing summer--came at last to gladden
the heart of man and beast in the Polar regions.
We have purposely omitted to make mention of spring, for there is no
such season, properly so called, within the Arctic Circle. Winter
usually terminates with a gushing thaw, and summer then begins with a
blaze of fervent heat. Not that the heat is really so intense as
compared with that of southern climes, but the contrast is so great that
it _seems_ as though the torrid zones had rushed towards the Pole.
About the beginning of June there were indications of the coming heat.
Fresh water began to trickle from the rocks, and streamlets commenced to
run down the icebergs. Soon everything became moist, and a marked
change took place in the appearance of the ice-belt, owing to the pools
that collected on it everywhere and overflowed.
Seals now became more numerous in the neighbourhood, and were frequently
killed near the _atluks_, or holes; so that fresh meat was secured in
abundance, and the scurvy received a decided check. Reindeer, rabbits,
and ptarmigan, too, began to frequent the bay, so that the larder was
constantly full, and the mess-table presented a pleasing variety--rats
being no longer the solitary dish of fresh meat at every meal. A few
small birds made their appearance from the southward, and these were
hailed as harbingers of the coming summer.
One day O'Riley sat on the taffrail, basking in the warm sun, and
drinking in health and gladness from its beams. He had been ill, and
was now convalescent. Buzzby stood beside him.
"I've bin thinkin'," said Buzzby, "that we don't half know the blessin's
that are given to us in this here world till we've had 'em taken away.
Look, now, how we're enjoyin' the sun an' the heat just as if it wos so
much gold!"
"Goold!" echoed O'Riley in a tone of contempt; "faix, I niver thought so
little o' goold before, let me tell ye. Goold can buy many a thing, it
can, but it can't buy sunshine. Hallo! what's this!"
O'Riley accompanied the question with a sudden snatch of his hand.
"Look here, Buzzby! Have a care, now! jist watch the opening o' my
fist."
"Wot is it?" enquired Buzzby, approaching, and looking earnestly at his
comrade's clenched hand with some curiosity.
"There he comes! Now, then; not so fast, ye spalpeen!"
As he spoke, a small fly, which had been captured, crept out from
between his fingers, and sought to escape. It was the first that had
visited these frozen regions for many, many months, and the whole crew
were summoned on deck to meet it, as if it were an old and valued
friend.
"Let it go, poor thing?" cried half a dozen of the men, gazing at the
little prisoner with a degree of interest that cannot be thoroughly
understood by those who have not passed through experiences similar to
those of our Arctic voyagers.
"Ay, don't hurt it, poor thing! You're squeezin' it too hard!" cried
Amos Parr.
"Squaazing it! no, then, I'm not. Go, avic, an' me blessin' go wid ye."
The big, rough hand opened, and the tiny insect, spreading its gossamer
wings, buzzed away into the bright atmosphere, where it was soon lost to
view.
"Rig up the ice-saws, Mr Bolton, set all hands at them, and get out the
powder-canisters," cried Captain Guy, coming hastily on deck.
"Ay, ay, sir," responded the mate. "All hands to the ice-saws! Look
alive, boys! Ho! Mr Saunders! where's Mr Saunders?"
"Here I am," answered the worthy second mate in a quiet voice.
"Oh, you're there? get up some powder, Mr Saunders, and a few
canisters."
There was a heartiness in the tone and action with which these orders
were given and obeyed that proved they were possessed of more than
ordinary interest; as, indeed, they were, for the time had now come for
making preparations for cutting the ship out of winter-quarters, and
getting ready to take advantage of any favourable opening in the ice
that might occur.
"Do you hope to effect much?" enquired Captain Ellice of Captain Guy,
who stood at the gangway watching the men as they leaped over the side,
and began to cut holes with ice chisels preparatory to fixing the saws
and powder-canisters.
"Not much," replied the captain; "but a _little_ in these latitudes is
worth fighting hard for, as you are well aware. Many a time have I seen
a ship's crew strain and heave on warps and cables for hours together,
and only gain a yard by all their efforts; but many a time, also, have I
seen a single yard of headway save a ship from destruction."
"True," rejoined Captain Ellice; "I have seen a little of it myself.
There is no spot on earth, I think, equal to the Polar regions for
bringing out into bold relief two great and _apparently_ antagonistic
truths--namely, man's urgent need of all his powers to accomplish the
work of his own deliverance, and man's utter helplessness and entire
dependence on the sovereign will of God."
"When shall we sink the canisters, sir?" asked Bolton, coming up and
touching his hat.
"In an hour, Mr Bolton; the tide will be full then, and we shall try
what effect a blast will have."
"My opeenion is," remarked Saunders, who passed at the moment with two
large bags of gunpowder under his arms, "that it'll have no effect at
a'. It'll just loosen the ice roond the ship."
The captain smiled as he said: "_That_ is all the effect I hope for, Mr
Saunders. Should the outward ice give way soon, we shall then be in a
better position to avail ourselves of it."
As Saunders predicted, the effect of powder and saws was merely to
loosen and rend the ice-tables, in which the _Dolphin_ was imbedded; but
deliverance was coming sooner than any of those on board expected. That
night a storm arose, which, for intensity of violence, equalled, if it
did not surpass, the severest gales they had yet experienced. It set
the great bergs of the Polar seas in motion, and these moving mountains
of ice slowly and majestically began their voyage to southern climes,
crashing through the floes, overturning the hummocks, and ripping up the
ice-tables with quiet, but irresistible momentum. For two days the war
of ice continued to rage, and sometimes the contending forces, in the
shape of huge tongues and corners of bergs, were forced into the Bay of
Mercy, and threatening swift destruction to the little craft, which was
a mere atom that might have been crushed and sunk and scarcely missed in
such a wild scene.
At one time a table of ice was forced out of the water and reared up,
like a sloping wall of glass, close to the stern of the _Dolphin_, where
all the crew were assembled with ice-poles ready to do their utmost; but
their feeble efforts could have availed them nothing had the
slowly-moving mass continued its onward progress.
"Lower away the quarter-boat," cried the captain, as the sheet of ice
six feet thick came grinding down towards the starboard quarter.
Buzzby, Grim, and several others sprang to obey, but, before they could
let go the fall-tackles, the mass of ice rose suddenly high above the
deck, over which it projected several feet, and caught the boat. In
another moment the timbers yielded; the thwarts sprang out or were
broken across, and slowly, yet forcibly, as a strong hand might crush an
egg-shell, the boat was squeezed flat against the ship's side.
"Shove, lads; if it comes on we're lost," cried the captain, seizing one
of the long poles with which the men were vainly straining every nerve
and muscle. They might as well have tried to arrest the progress of a
berg. On it came, and crushed in the starboard quarter bulwarks.
Providentially at that moment it grounded and remained fast; but the
projecting point that overhung them broke off and fell on the deck with
a crash that shook the good ship from stem to stern. Several of the men
were thrown violently down, but none were seriously hurt in this
catastrophe.
When the storm ceased, the ice out in the strait was all in motion, and
that round the ship had loosened so much that it seemed as if the
_Dolphin_ might soon get out into open water and once more float upon
its natural element. Every preparation, therefore, was made; the stores
were reshipped from Store Island; the sails were shaken out, and those
of them that had been taken down were bent on to the yards. Tackle was
overhauled, and, in short, everything was done that was possible under
the circumstances. But a week passed away ere they succeeded in finally
warping out of the bay into the open sea beyond.
It was a lovely morning when this happy event was accomplished. Before
the tide was quite full, and while they were waiting until the command
to heave on the warps should be given, Captain Guy assembled the crew
for morning prayers in the cabin. Having concluded, he said:
"My lads, through the great mercy of Heaven we have been all, except
one, spared through the trials and anxieties of a long and dreary
winter, and are now, I trust, about to make our escape from the ice that
has held us fast so long. It becomes me at such a time to tell you
that, if I am spared to return home, I shall be able to report that
every man in this ship has done his duty. You have never flinched in
the hour of danger, and never grumbled in the hour of trial. Only one
man--our late brave and warm-hearted comrade, Joseph West--has fallen in
the struggle. For the mercies that have never failed us, and for our
success in rescuing my gallant friend, Captain Ellice, we ought to feel
the deepest gratitude. We have need, however, to pray for a blessing on
the labours that are yet before us, for you are well aware that we shall
probably have many a struggle with the ice before we are once more
afloat on blue water. And now, lads, away with you on deck, and man the
capstan, for the tide is about full."
The capstan was manned, and the hawsers were hove taut. Inch by inch
the tide rose, and the _Dolphin_ floated. Then a lusty cheer was given,
and Amos Parr struck up one of those hearty songs intermingled with
"Ho!" and "Yo heave ho!" that seem to be the life and marrow of all
nautical exertion. At last the good ship forged ahead, and, _boring_
through the loose ice, passed slowly out of the Bay of Mercy.
"Do you know I feel quite sad at quitting this dreary spot?" said Fred
to his father, as they stood gazing backward over the taffrail. "I
could not have believed that I should have become so much attached to
it."
"We become attached to any spot, Fred, in which incidents have occurred
to call forth, frequently, our deeper feelings. These rocks and stones
are intimately associated with many events that have caused you joy and
sorrow, hope and fear, pain and happiness. Men cherish the memory of
such feelings, and love the spots of earth with which they are
associated."
"Ah, Father, yonder stands one stone, at least, that calls forth
feelings of sorrow."
Fred pointed, as he spoke, to Store Island, which was just passing out
of view. On this lonely spot the men had raised a large stone over the
grave of Joseph West. O'Riley, whose enthusiastic temperament had
caused him to mourn over his comrade more, perhaps, than any other man
in the ship, had carved the name and date of his death in rude
characters on the stone. It was a conspicuous object on the low island,
and every eye in the _Dolphin_ was fixed on it as they passed. Soon the
point of rock, that had sheltered them so long from many a westerly
gale, intervened and shut it out from view for ever.
A week of uninterrupted fair wind and weather had carried the _Dolphin_
far to the south of their dreary wintering-ground, and all was going
well, when the worst of all disasters befell the ship--she caught fire!
How it happened no one could tell. The smoke was first seen rising
suddenly from the hold. Instantly the alarm was spread.
"Firemen to your posts!" shouted the captain. "Man the water-buckets;
steady, men, no hurry. Keep order."
"Ay, ay, sir," was the short, prompt response, and the most perfect
order _was_ kept. Every command was obeyed instantly, with a degree of
vigour that is seldom exhibited save in cases of life and death.
Buzzby was at the starboard, and Peter Grim at the larboard gangway,
while the men stood in two rows, extending from each to the main hatch,
up which ever-thickening clouds of dark smoke were rolling. Bucket
after bucket of water was passed along and dashed into the hold, and
everything that could be done was done, but without effect. The fire
increased. Suddenly a long tongue of flame issued from the smoking
cavern, and lapped round the mast and rigging with greedy eagerness.
"There's no hope," said Captain Ellice in a low voice, laying his hand
gently on Captain Guy's shoulder.
The captain did not reply, but gazed with an expression of the deepest
regret, for one moment, at the work of destruction.
Next instant he sprang to the falls of the larboard quarterboat.
"Now, lads," he cried energetically, "get out the boats. Bring up
provisions, Mr Bolton, and a couple of spare sails. Mr Saunders, see
to the ammunition and muskets. Quick, men. The cabin will soon be too
hot to hold you."
Setting the example, the captain sprang below, followed by Fred and Tom
Singleton, who secured the charts, a compass, chronometer, and quadrant;
also the log-book and the various journals and records of the voyage.
Captain Ellice also did active service, and, being cool and
self-possessed, he recollected and secured several articles which were
afterwards of the greatest use, and which, but for him, would in such a
trying moment have probably been forgotten.
Meanwhile the two largest boats in the ship were lowered. Provisions,
masts, sails, and oars, etcetera, were thrown in. The few remaining
dogs, among whom were Dumps and Poker, were also embarked, and the crew,
hastily leaping in, pushed off. They were not a moment too soon. The
fire had reached the place where the gunpowder was kept and, although
there was not a great quantity of it, there was enough, when it
exploded, to burst open the deck. The wind, having free ingress, fanned
the fire into a furious blaze, and in a few moments the _Dolphin_ was
wrapped in flames from stem to stern. It was a little after sunset when
the fire was discovered; in two hours later the good ship was burned to
the water's edge; then the waves swept in, and, while they extinguished
the fire, they sank the blackened hull, leaving the two crowded boats
floating in darkness on the bosom of the ice-laden sea.