A NIGHT IN AN OPEN BOAT.
What should be done? Aleck was sure that their only chance for life
lay in getting the boat afloat; but unless it could be brought nearer
the edge this could not be done, and perhaps it was impossible,
anyway. Yet to stay where they were meant destruction. Katy and Jim
climbed into the boat, and crouched down out of the snow, while the
larger lads stood outside trying to find some way out of their
desperate situation. They must think fast; minutes were precious; but,
cudgel their brains as they might, only darkness, a howling
snow-squall, and crashing blocks of ice greeted their eyes or
thoughts. One minute passed, two minutes passed, yet they could see no
way to help themselves. The third minute was slipping by, when a huge
ice-cake crowded its resistless way underneath the rear edge of their
own raft, towards which the stern of the boat was pointing, and slowly
lifted it above the level of the water.
At once the sledge began to feel this inclination, and started to move
forward.
"Jump in!" shouted Aleck, and leaped aboard, with Tug beside him. "Try
to steady her!" they heard him cry, and each seized an oar, or a
boat-hook, or whatever was nearest. But it was of little use. Slowly
but gently the hinder part of the ice-cake rose, and the front part
tipped down. As the slant deepened, the speed of the sliding boat
increased, until it went with a rush, and struck the water with a
plunging splash that would surely have swamped them had it not been
for the tight half-deck forward; this shed the water, and caused the
little craft to rise upon an even keel as soon as she had fairly left
the surface of the ice. It was evident in an instant, however, that
she would sink in a very short time unless freed of the great sledge
that was dragging upon her bottom. Already the water was pouring over
her sides, and Aleck knew that they were in imminent danger of sinking
or capsizing, or both. Tug had leaped in forward, and to him Aleck
shouted, "Cut those bands!"
"Haven't any knife."
"Here's the hatchet. Hurry up!"
One stroke of Tug's arm parted one of the bands, and he raised his
hatchet for the second one, for there were two straps forward. As it
descended, Aleck drew his pocket-knife across the strained band
astern, which parted with a loud ripping noise. The idea was that both
straps should be severed at the same instant; but in the darkness Tug
partly missed his aim, and the poor boat, held to the sledge by a
single strap, began to yaw and jerk and ship water in a most alarming
manner--a strain she could not have borne one moment had not the
half-cut band of canvas broken, setting the boat free. Aleck had
intended to hold to the strap and take the sledge aboard; but this
struggle, which came so near wrecking them all, wrenched it out of his
hand, and the first wave washed the bobs beyond recovery--a loss whose
full force did not strike them at once, for they had too much else to
think of.
[Illustration: "TRY TO STEADY HER!"]
The weight and awkwardness of the sledge having been taken away, the
boat rode much more lightly in the face of the ice-clogged sea, and
showed how stanch and trim she really was, though much cold water
splashed over her rails.
"Now," said Aleck, cheerfully, though it was fortunate the darkness
could conceal how anxious was the expression of his face, "now we
shall get along. Jim, get out your oars (the stroke); and look out for
floating ice forward, Tug. Katy, my little steersman, are you very,
very cold?"
"N-n-n-o!" the girl answered, bravely, but her teeth chattered
dreadfully.
"Better say you are, for you can't hide it, poor child. Wait a minute
till I get this strap off my roll of bedding, and I will wrap a
blanket around you."
Doubling a large blanket, he put it carefully over her head and
shoulders like an immense hood. Then he buckled around her the strap
which had held the roll together, leaving only a fold out of which she
might grasp the tiller, and another crevice through which to peep and
breathe.
"We've got to have that lantern lit, because you must see the
compass."
Taking some matches from his pocket, he knelt down, placed the lantern
under the skirt of Katy's blanket robe, crouched over it as close as
he could, and struck a match. It went out. A second fizzed a while,
which only warmed the wicking, but at the third the oil in the wick
took fire, and the lantern was soon shining gayly into the bright face
of the compass at Katy's feet.
"Now, Youngster, for the oars. Lie low, and let me crawl over you to
my seat."
Aleck got there and was ready, but Jim was still fumbling about on
each side, and feeling under the thwart.
"What's the matter? Why don't you go to work?"
"Can't find but one oar."
"Only one oar? Sure?"
Then the two searched, but to no purpose. It had been dropped
overboard, evidently, during the excitement about losing the sledge.
"Well, Jim, it's your fault, but it can't be helped now. You take this
quilt, and cuddle down as close to Katy as you can get, and try to
keep each other warm. I'll row alone. Ready, forward?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
Then they began to move ahead through the water, which came in long
rollers, not in breaking waves, because there was so much ice around
them that the wind could not get hold of it. It was very cold.
Occasionally Tug would fend away a cake of ice, or they would stop and
steer clear of a big piece; but pretty soon he called out in a shaky
voice that he was too stiff to stand there any longer, where the spray
was blowing over him, and that he should be good for nothing in a few
minutes unless he could row awhile to get warm. So Aleck took his
place, fixing the spare canvas into a kind of shield to keep off the
spattering drops. It was very forlorn and miserable, and to say that
all wished themselves back on shore would be but the faintest
expression of their distress.
Little was said. Pushing their way slowly through the cakes of ice,
which had grown denser now; changing every little while from oars to
boat-hook and back again, while Katy, protected from freezing by her
double blanket and Jim's close hugging, kept the yawl's head due
north; fighting fatigue, hunger, cold, and a great desire to sleep,
these brave boys worked hour after hour for their lives and the lives
in their care.
When they were beginning to think it almost morning they came squarely
against a field of ice which stretched right and left into the
darkness farther than it was possible to see. Whether this was the
edge of a stationary field or only a large raft they couldn't tell;
but they were too exhausted to go farther, and they decided to tie up
and wait for daylight. Tug struck his hook into the ice until it held
firmly, then lashed it to the bow. Aleck also stepped out and drove
one of the short railway spikes into the ice near the stern, around
which a rope was hitched. Then both the boys opened a second roll of
bedding, and snuggled down as well as they could to get what rest they
were able to while waiting for sunrise. Crowded together in the straw
(though it was damp with snow), and covered with quilts and blankets,
they could keep tolerably warm, and even caught little naps. The snow
had stopped now, and the stars began to appear, first in the north,
then overhead, then gradually everywhere. The wind still blew, but the
boat rose and fell more and more slowly upon the rollers, until at
last it stood perfectly still. This happened so suddenly, and was
followed by so complete steadiness, that it aroused Tug's curiosity.
Poking his head from under the covering, he said, "I think we are
frozen in." Nobody answered him, for they were asleep, or too stupid
to care; but the gray daylight which came at last showed that he was
right. On their right hand was a great sheet of new, thin ice; on
their left a mass of thick old ice, white with snow. Straight ahead,
so well had Katy steered, towered the rocks and trees of a high,
wooded shore, coming momently into greater and greater distinctness as
the red streamers of the morning shot higher and higher into the
eastern sky.
Tug was the first to catch this sight, and roused his fellows with a
shout:
"Land!--land! Hurrah!"