CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

The return of darkness during the night gave us notice that we were

advancing towards the south, and that the short arctic summer was

drawing to a close. We could no longer continue our course, hour after

hour without intermission, as before, the officers relieving each other

in the crow's-nest, and one watch following the other through one

long-protracted day.

It was impossible with any safety to proceed through that icy sea when

darkness came on, and therefore each night we were obliged to make the

ship fast to a floe till the return of daylight. But those nights were

sometimes such as are not to be found in another realm. The bright moon

floated in an atmosphere the most clear and brilliant that can be

conceived, while the silvery masses of ice lay sparkling beneath it, as

they floated on the calm and majestic ocean.

Then the sun at setting bathed the sea, the sky, the rugged mountains,

the pinnacles of the icebergs, and the lower floes with colours and

tints more beautiful and varied than the imagination can picture, far

more than words can describe. But I should not dwell on such scenes,

except that I wish to observe that God distributes His bounties

throughout the globe with an equal hand; and that, barren and

inhospitable as is that land, no less than in southern realms are His

power and goodness displayed.

For about four days we had proceeded south, our course interrupted

whenever we met with a whale; and if she was killed, we made fast to a

floe till we had flensed and made off. Some of the smaller whalers had

got full ships, and, with joyous shouts and light hearts on board, they

passed us on their way home; and others, unwilling to wait, returned not

full, so that we were nearly the last ship.

The weather continued beautifully fine, though now growing cold and

chilly. We also had nearly a full ship, and were congratulating

ourselves on soon being able to follow those which had preceded us; but,

till we were quite full, we could not think of doing so while the ice

continued open, and there was a chance of a fish. Consequently we were

all on the look-out, and more eager than ever to secure our prey.

One afternoon, while we were under weigh, the cheering sound of "A fish,

a fish! see, she blows!" from the crow's-nest, roused us all to

activity. Two boats were immediately equipped and sent in chase. I was

in one of them. While we were yet close to the ship, another whale was

espied to the southward, at a very great distance. The prospect of

getting two fish at a fall was more than could be resisted; and, while

we were killing our fish, the master made sail to come up with the

other. We were successful; and, with less difficulty than usual, killed

the whale at the edge of a floe connected with the land, towards which

it had gone for shelter. The whale was killed, and made fast to the

floe, waiting for the return of the ship.

While we were all engaged in the chase and capture, no one had noticed

the change in the weather. From a fresh breeze, sufficiently to the

eastward to enable the ship to stand back towards us, it had fallen a

flat calm: the sea lay stretched out before us like a dark shining

glass, while an ominous stillness reigned through the air.

Andrew, who was line-manager in the boat to which I belonged, was the

first to observe it, as we were assembled on the floe busily engaged in

hauling in the lines. He said nothing; but I saw him look up, and,

after glancing around for some moments, put his hand over his brow, and

gaze earnestly forth in the direction the ship had gone. The anxious

expression his countenance instantly assumed alarmed me; and, though he

at once resumed his task of coiling away the lines, I saw that all was

not right. I then cast my eyes seaward, to see whereabouts the ship

was. I need scarcely say that I felt a very natural alarm, when I

discovered that she was almost hull down.

Andrew again looked up. The anxious expression on his face had in no

way diminished; but he was not a man to alarm or unnerve his companions

by any unnecessary exclamation.

"Bear a hand, lads," he at length said. "The sooner we get in our

lines, and tow the fish alongside, the better."

"I was thinking the same," said old David. "And I say the sooner the

ship stands back to pick us up, the better for us. We couldn't get the

fish alongside till long after dark, if she comes no nearer to us; and

how she's to do that, without a breeze springs up, I don't know."

These few remarks scarcely interrupted the task in hand. When it was

accomplished, however, and we had time to look round us, we all began to

consider more about the difficulty of our position. I must explain that

there were two boats, with a crew of five men each, so that we were ten

in all. We had with us a few provisions and a cooking apparatus, with

our pea-jackets to put on while waiting after our heating exercise.

The harpooners and the elder men now began to consult what was best to

be done. David gave it as his opinion that the other boats had been led

a long chase after a fish, and that the ship had followed thus far to

the southward to pick them up, with the intention of returning

immediately to us, when the calm so unexpectedly came on.

"There's no doubt about what has happened, mates; but I want to know

what those who have had experience in these seas think is about to

happen," said Andrew. "There's something in the look of the sky and

sea, and the feel of the air, which makes me think a change is about to

take place. I therefore ask whether we shall stay by the fish, or leave

her secured to the floe, and get aboard as fast as we can."

In answer to this proposal, which was certainly wise, and perfectly

justifiable, several opinions were given. Some were for getting on

board without delay, others were for towing the fish towards the ship,

and several were for remaining by till the ship should return, though

the majority were for going back in the boats alone.

A more mighty Power than ours decided what was to be done; for, while we

were still speaking, a sudden gust of wind came blowing along the edge

of the ice from the northward, and throwing up the sea in so

extraordinary a manner, that, had the boats been exposed to it, they

could scarcely have lived. Then the wind as suddenly fell, and again

all was calm as before.

"Now's your time, lads; we must get on board as quick as we can,"

shouted old David. While, accordingly, we were with additional care

securing the whale to the floe, the sky, which was already overclouded,

began to send down dense showers of snow, which so obscured the

atmosphere, that the sharpest eye amongst us could no longer distinguish

the ship. To attempt to get on board under these circumstances, would

be more dangerous than remaining where we were; so, putting on our

Flushing jackets, we got into the boats, and drew a sail over our

shoulders, to shelter ourselves as much as possible from the storm.

The snow, which had begun to fall in flakes, now changed to a powder, so

dense that it appeared as if night had already come on.

"It's very dark, Andrew," I remarked; "what can be going to happen?"

"Why, I'll tell you, Peter," answered David, who heard my question.

"There's going to be a harder gale of wind than we've had since you came

on board; and if the old ship don't stand up to her canvas, and fetch us

before night, there are few who would wish to change places with us,

that's all."

I did not by any means like this announcement, for I felt that this time

old David was not joking with me. However, our only course was to

remain where we were. If the gale did come on, we were safer on the ice

than on the sea; and if it passed off, the ship would not fail to come

and take us on board.

In the meantime, we were continually putting our heads from under our

shelter, to cast anxious glances towards where we supposed the ship to

be, and in every other direction, to discover if there was any opening

in the thick cloud of snow which dropped around us. I say dropped, for

I never before saw snow fall so perpendicularly, and in such minute

powdery particles. The peculiar and oppressive gloominess which filled

the air, made one feel that something unusual was approaching, otherwise

I could scarcely fancy that in so perfect a calm any danger could be at

hand.

For two hours we sat cramped up in the boat, and, in spite of our warm

clothing, suffering not a little from the cold, which was greater than

for some time past we had experienced. Suddenly the snow ceased, and

with eager haste, Andrew, David, and some others jumped out of the boat

and climbed to the top of the nearest hummock, from whence they could

get a wider look-out than on the flat ice.

With feelings which it were vain to attempt to describe, we looked for

the ship, and could nowhere see her. To the southward there was a thick

mist, caused by the snow falling in that direction, and in this she was

probably shrouded.

On looking to the north, we perceived in the horizon a bright luminous

appearance, something like the ice-blink, but brighter, and which seemed

to increase in height. David looked at it for an instant, and then

shouted out, "Bear a hand, my lads, and haul up the boats--the gale is

upon us!"

Suiting the action to the word, he rushed down from the hummock,

accompanied by the rest of us, and we commenced hauling one of the boats

up on the ice. While all hands were engaged at this work, and before it

was completely accomplished, down came the gale upon us with terrific

violence, almost lifting us off our legs, and hurling us into the now

foaming and hissing sea. The snow, which lay thick on the ice, was

lifted up and blown in clouds over us; the ocean, which before lay so

tranquil, was now lashed into fury.

"Haul away, my lads, and run the boat up," shouted Andrew, his voice

scarcely heard amid the tumult. We had taken out most of the things

from the other boat, and, having secured the first, were about to haul

her up, when a heavy sea, striking the ice, broke off a piece to which

she was secured, and carried her and the harpooner belonging to her, who

was standing near her, far beyond our reach. To have attempted to

launch the boat to go to his rescue would have been madness. One loud,

hopeless shriek was heard, and he sunk for ever.

We had little time to mourn for our poor messmate--our own condition

occupied all our thoughts. At the same moment that the boat was carried

away, the sea broke the whale from the lashings which secured her to the

ice, and, without our having any power to preserve our prize, it was

driven down along the edge of the floe, from which it gradually floated

away.

"What's to be done now?" I asked, with several others, in a voice of

despair.

"Trust in God," answered Andrew in a solemn voice. "Peter, remember we

have been in a worse position before, and He saved us. He may, if He

wills it, save us again."

"But how are we ever to get back to the ship, with only one boat to

carry us?" asked some one.

"Captain Rendall is not a man likely to desert his people," observed

David. "The ship will come back and take us off, when the gale is

over--no fear of that, mates."

Notwithstanding the tone of confidence with which he spoke, I suspected

that he did not feel quite as much at his ease as he pretended to be.

Our position was indeed, I felt, most critical, though I did not express

my fears. The gale might continue for days, and our ship, if she

escaped shipwreck, which too probably would be her lot, would be at all

events driven so far to the south, that she would find it utterly

impossible to return. The ice, even, on which we stood, might any

instant break up from the force of the waves; and if we could not

retreat farther back in time, our destruction would be almost certain.

We had a boat; but even in smooth water she could scarcely do more than

contain us all, and in such a sea as was likely to be running for some

time she could not live ten minutes. We could have no hope, therefore,

of regaining the ship in her; and should we be compelled, therefore, to

quit the ice, she could afford us no refuge.

We had a small quantity of provisions,--enough, with economy, to sustain

life for two or three days, though not more than was intended to supply

a couple of good meals, should we have been kept away from the ship a

sufficient time to require them. We had some boats' sails, a cooking

apparatus, two harpoons, spears, and two fowling-pieces, brought by the

harpooners to kill a few dovekies for our messes. Several things, with

a set of lines and harpoons, had been lost in the other boat.

For some time after the fatal catastrophe I have described, we stood

looking out seaward, undecided what steps to take. The wrenching

asunder of some huge masses of the ice, which the sea drove up close to

the boat, and the violent heaving to which the whole body was subjected,

showed us that we must rouse ourselves to further exertion. We had no

need of consultation to judge that we must without delay get farther

away from the sea; and, having laden our boat with all our stores, we

began to work her along the ice towards the shore, which lay bleak and

frowning some ten miles or so from us.

Our progress was slow; for the ice, though thick, was much rotted from

the heat of the whole summer, and in some places it was very rough,

while shallow pools of water constantly appeared in our path, and

compelled us to make a circuit round them. When we had accomplished

nearly two miles, it was proposed that we should wait there to see if

any change took place in the weather. There was no longer a motion in

the ice, and Andrew and David gave it as their opinion that there was

consequently no danger of its breaking up so far from the edge, and that

we might remain there in safety. Night was now fast approaching; and

the gale, instead of abating, blew with greater fury than at first.

The exertion had somewhat warmed us; but the moment we stopped, the cold

wind whistled through our clothing, and showed us that we must prepare

some shelter for the night, if we would avoid being frozen to death.

Another point we also discovered was, that we required some one to take

the lead, and to act as chief officer among us. The remaining harpooner

would, by right, have taken command; but, though expert in the use of

his weapon, he was not a man by character or knowledge well fitted to

command the respect of the rest of us. This we all felt, as he probably

did also, as he raised no objection when David proposed that we should

elect an officer whom we should be bound to obey, till we could regain

our ship, should we ever be so fortunate so to do.

Three were first proposed, but Andrew Thompson was finally selected;

for, though he was known not to have so much practical experience as

several of the others, his firmness, sagacity, and high moral character

were acknowledged by all.

"And now, my lads," he said, when he had modestly accepted the office,

"the first thing we must do is to build a snow-wall, to shelter us from

the wind; and as soon as the wind moderates, we'll have up a flagstaff

on the top of the highest hummock, to show our friends where to look for

us."

According to this advice, we set to work to collect the snow, which did

not lay more than three inches thick on the ice. We first made it into

cakes, about four times the size of an ordinary brick, and then piled

them up in a semicircular form, the convex side being turned to the

wind. Over the top we spread a boat's sail, which was kept down by

lumps of snow being placed on the top of it. The canvas was also

allowed to hang over a couple of lances lashed together in front, so

that we had a very tolerable shelter. The snow was scraped away from

the interior; and such spars and planks as we could get out of the boat

were spread at the bottom, with a sail over them, to form our bed.

These arrangements were accomplished as the long twilight turned into

total darkness. We lay down, and prepared to pass the dreary hours till

the sun rose again as best we could. I thought of the time I had spent

on the iceberg, and, remembering Andrew's words, I did not despair. I

slept, as did my companions, many of them with the careless indifference

to danger which has become the characteristic of most British seamen.

I was awoke by the excessive cold, though we kept as close together

within our shelter as we could, for the sake of the warmth. My

companions were still asleep, and I was afraid if I moved of arousing

them. The storm still raged furiously without, and I could not again

compose myself to sleep for the noise it made.

I lay awake, listening to its whistling sound as it blew over the ice,

when I fancied that I heard a low grumbling noise, like a person with a

gruff voice talking to himself. At last this idea grew so strong on me,

that I crept quietly to the curtain in front of our hut, and, lifting up

a corner, looked out. The stars were shining forth from the sky, and

there was a thin crescent moon, by the light of which I saw a white

monster leaning over the gunwale of our boat, examining, it appeared to

me, the things in her. I was not long in recognising the visitor to be

a large, white, shaggy polar bear. He first took up one thing, and,

smelling it and turning it over on every side, replaced it. When,

however, he came to a piece of beef, or anything eatable, he without

ceremony appropriated it, and was thus rapidly consuming our slender

store of provisions. "This will never do," I thought to myself. "If

this goes on, we shall be to a certainty starved."

We had fortunately brought the two guns into the hut, that they might

run no risk of getting damp. They were both loaded; and, drawing back,

I got hold of one, hoping to shoot the bear before he was disturbed. If

I aroused my companions first, they to a certainty would make some

noise, which would probably frighten away our visitor, and we should

lose both the bear and the provisions.

When I again put my head from under the sail, he was still at work. I

was on my knees, and had got the gun to my shoulder, when he saw me. He

was fortunately on the other side of the boat; for no sooner did his eye

fall on me, than he began slowly to walk along the side, holding on by

the gunwale, evidently intending to get close to me. "My best chance is

to hit him in the eyes," I thought, "and blind him. If he once gets

hold of me, he'll give me a squeeze I shall not like."

Before he had moved many steps I fired full in his face. The report of

the gun, and the loud growl of rage and pain uttered by the brute,

instantly awakened my companions. They started to their feet, but had

some difficulty to understand what had happened. The bear, on being

wounded, nearly fell headlong into the boat; but, recovering himself, he

endeavoured to find his way round to the spot where he had seen me.

"A bear, a bear!" I sung out. "Get your lances ready and run him

through." Most fortunately I had hit the monster so directly in the

eyes, that he could not see his way, and this prevented him from rushing

directly on me; for though I might have leaped out of his way round the

back of the hut, he would in all probability have seized upon one of my

half-awake companions.

This momentary delay gave time to Andrew to spring to his feet, and to

draw out a lance from under the sail. He appeared at the entrance of

the hut, just as the bear, slightly recovering himself, was rushing

forward, with his mouth open and covered with foam, and a stream, which

I could see even in that light, trickling down his face. His paws were

stretched out, and in another instant he would have had me in his deadly

clutch, when Andrew dashed at him with his spear. The bear seized the

handle, and endeavoured to wrench it from his assailant; but the iron

had entered his breast, and, in his attempt to rush on, it pierced him

to the heart.

The rest of the party were by this time awake, and, armed with whatever

they could first seize, and seeing what had happened, they all set up a

shout of triumph, every one of us forgetting entirely for the moment the

very precarious position in which we were placed.

We had several reasons to be satisfied with having killed the bear. In

the first place, had he put his snout into our hut while we were all

asleep, he might have killed some of us; secondly, we had saved most of

our provisions by our discovering him; and what he had taken was amply

repaid by the sustenance his flesh would afford us, and the use to which

we might turn his skin, for bedding or clothing, should we have to

remain any time on the ice.

"Our friend there has given us a lesson to keep a better look-out in

future," remarked Andrew. "If it had not been for Peter, he might have

carried off every bit of our food; so we must take it by turns to keep

watch. I'll stand the first."

"And I the second, willingly," I exclaimed. "I've no inclination to

sleep, and if I did, I should be fancying all the time that the bear had

me in his grasp."

So it was arranged each man should take an hour at a time, as near as

could be guessed, and thus all would have plenty of rest, and be fit for

work in the daytime.

Before the rest turned in again, we drew the carcase of the bear close

up to the hut, so that, if any of his fellows should come near him, they

might to a certainty be seen, and shot without difficulty.

Extraordinary as it may seem, the rest of the people were very soon

asleep again. Andrew and I were the only two awake. The gun which had

been fired was reloaded, and, having placed the two close at hand, we

sat down just inside the curtain, leaving only a small aperture on

either side of it, through which to look out. We also placed a couple

of lances within our reach, that, should any more bears visit us, as we

hoped they might, we might have a better chance of killing them; for

their flesh, though rank, is not unwholesome, and, at all events, it

would enable us to support life as long as it lasted, independently of

the value of their skins.

After we had made our preparations, Andrew advised me to lie down and to

try to sleep; but I told him that I was too much excited, and that it

was impossible, and that, if he would allow me, I would much rather sit

up and watch with him; or, if he liked, I would watch while he slept,

and would call him if anything occurred.

"Neither can I sleep, Peter," he answered: "You and the rest have chosen

me to guide you, and I doubly feel the responsibility of my office; for

I need not tell you that I think our position very bad. From the first

time I saw you, I found that you were well educated, and I since have

had reason to place confidence in you. Now, Peter, I am afraid that,

when we are surrounded with far greater difficulties than we have yet

met with, some of these poor fellows will lose heart, and sink under

them, unless their spirits are kept up, and a good example is set them.

I therefore rely upon you to assist me, by showing that, young as you

are, you do not shrink from danger, and that you place a firm reliance

on the power of God to deliver us, notwithstanding all the appearance to

the contrary."

I told Andrew that I thanked him for the confidence he placed in me, and

that I hoped I should not disappoint his expectations.

"I know you will not, Peter; but I tell you that our courage will be

severely tried," he answered.

"Why, don't you think the ship will be able to take us off?" I asked.

"I do not think she will, Peter," he replied. "Before the gale is over,

she will have been driven very far to the south; and it will take her so

many days to beat back, if the wind should continue foul, that Captain

Rendall will consider we must have perished, and that the attempt would

be useless, and that he should not be justified in thus risking the

safety of his ship."

"What hope, then, have we?" I asked.

"My greatest hope is, that we may be seen by some other ship passing

after the gale has moderated," he answered. "If that fails to us, we

must endeavour to pass the winter on shore. Others have done so before

now; and I do not see why we should not manage to live as well as the

ignorant natives who inhabit this country."

"If we had powder, and shot, and fuel, and timber to build a house with,

I should say we might do it," I answered; "but as we have none of these

things, I am afraid we shall be frozen to death as soon as the cold sets

in."

"The natives live, and we must try to find out how they contrive to do

it," was the tenor of his answer.

Miserable as the night was, and slow as the hours seemed to drag along,

they at last passed away. We had no further visits from the bears, nor

were we otherwise disturbed. When daylight came, there was nothing in

the prospect to cheer our hearts. On one side there was a sheet of ice

covered with snow, with high rocky cliffs beyond; and, on the other, the

wide expanse of ocean, still tossing and foaming with the fierce storm

which raged over it.

Peter the Whaler · 第 37 / 45 题