Part 7 (1/2)
The captain laughed.
”Those are mere stones sticking to it,” observed Andrew; ”they were torn off when the berg was separated from the glacier of which it once formed a part. Vast rocks, far larger than those we see, were at one period of our globe's history, carried over the surface to great distances, and deposited in spots where they are now found, while the marks produced by the bergs are still visible in many localities. If this berg were to be stranded on some distant sh.o.r.e, it would gradually melt leaving the rocks it carries behind it, which a geologist would perceive had no connection with any strata in the neighbourhood, and he would, therefore, at once justly conclude that the rocks had been brought to the spot by a berg.”
These remarks were made as we stopped to rest on our way up. We quickly, however, continued the ascent. Andrew, who carried the flag, was first to reach the top, and, waving it above his head, shouted ”Land, land!” then, working away with an axe, he dug a hole in which he planted the staff.
We all soon joined him, when, descending a short distance, the captain surveyed the distant coast, now turning his gla.s.s horizontally, now up at the sky. I asked him what he was looking at.
”Curious as it may seem, I can see the shape of the mountains in the sky better than by directing my gla.s.s at them; besides which I observe a dark line which indicates a broad channel running between us and the land ice. It shows that I am right in my conjectures, and that the field is still moving northward. It must come to a stop one day, and when it does we must be prepared for even more violent commotions than we have yet experienced.”
The captain calculated that the land we saw was nearly thirty miles off, and that the channel ran about midway between us and it.
It was a question whether we should attempt this long journey during the autumn, or wait for the return of spring, spending our winter in our houses on the ice. The point could only be decided when the field ceased to move. One thing was certain, it would be impossible to get the boats over the hummocky ice, and thus we must depend upon our feet to reach the sh.o.r.e, while we dragged our stores after us.
”We must wait no longer here, lads,” said the captain who had just finished his observation. ”If we do we shall be benighted, and may have to spend a long night without shelter.”
We hurried down the berg and directed our course towards the s.h.i.+p, but whether or not we should reach her appeared doubtful.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
It was evening when we got back to the encampment. On casting our eyes towards the s.h.i.+p, her appearance, as she lay overlapped with ma.s.ses of ice on her beam ends, could not fail to produce a melancholy feeling.
”She'll never float again!” exclaimed the captain with a sigh. ”We must make the best of things, however, as they are.”
The men had progressed with the house. It was already habitable, though much more was to be done to enable us to bear the piercing cold of an arctic winter.
Next day was employed in getting everything out of the s.h.i.+p, which could be reached, likely to be useful, as she could no longer afford us a safe shelter. We began to cut away the bulwarks, the upper planks, and indeed all the wood we could get at, to serve for fuel as well as to strengthen the house. While thus employed, the fearful sounds from which we had for some time been free, again a.s.sailed our ears. There was a sudden movement of our floe, while all around us, and especially to the northward, we could see the ice heaving and tumbling, huge ma.s.ses falling over, and floes rising one above another. Should our floe be subject to the same violent pressure, a slab might slide over it and sweep us to destruction. Even should some of the more active manage to climb to the top, our house and boats and stores must inevitably be lost, and those who might have escaped at first would, ere long, be frozen to death.
The hours we thus pa.s.sed, not knowing at what moment the catastrophe might occur, were terrible in the extreme. To work was impossible. At length, however, the disturbance ceased. The intense cold quickly congealed the broken ma.s.ses together, and we were able to turn in and sleep soundly.
The next day all was quiet. The captain was of opinion that we should move no further north, and that, should our floe become detached, we might expect to drift to the southward.
The captain's observations showed that at present we were stationary, but it was still doubtful whether our floe was or was not united to the main body. The captain, Mr. Patterson, my brother, the boatswain and I, had been discussing the subject one evening as we sat in the hut, and were afterwards talking of the Aurora Borealis when I agreed to go out and ascertain if any of peculiar brilliancy was visible.
On emerging from the hut, I gazed up at the sky. An Aurora was blazing brilliantly, forming an irregular arch, from which showers of rays of many colours spread in every direction. I was watching it with intense admiration, and was intending to go back and call my companions, when one of the dogs which had followed me gave a loud bark. It was answered by a growl. Looking over the ice I saw two enormous s.h.a.ggy monsters, who, sniffing the air, advanced cautiously towards me. The brave dog dashed forward. In vain I called him to return.
Satisfied that our visitors were Polar bears which must have come from the main land, I hurried back, closing the door behind me to prevent them from entering. The captain, mate, and my brother seized their rifles, as I did mine, hoping to kill one or both of the intruders. As we opened the door, a loud cry uttered by a dog reached our ears. One of the bears had seized the animal and was carrying him off, satisfied with his prize. The other was creeping on towards the hut. Our bullets quickly settled him, and he rolled over. We then gave chase to the other who was carrying off the dog, but we were compelled to stop and reload, and by the time we had done this, so rapidly did the animal run that he was far beyond our reach, and all hope of rescuing our canine companion was over. We regretted the loss of the brave dog. It was a lesson to us not to let the others loose until we were ready to a.s.sist in attacking any similar visitors. The bear was quickly skinned and cut up. The skin would serve us for clothing, the fat for fuel, the meat for food. This visit of the bears showed us that the field of which our floe formed part must be attached to the land-ice. Our captain being anxious to visit the sh.o.r.e, intending, should a favourable spot be found, to form our winter quarters on it--we agreed to set out the next morning.
Much to our disappointment, when the time came, the captain was unable to go. He was very unwell, and my brother forbade him to take the journey. As he did not improve, Andrew was unable to leave him, and it was finally settled that the mate, Sandy, Ewen, Croil, another man, and I should form the party to proceed to the land. We had a small sledge which had been manufactured some time before. To this we attached our remaining dogs, and loaded it with stores of ammunition and provisions, including food for the dogs. Each of us carried also a small load as well as our rifles and long poles to a.s.sist our progress. Our companions cheered us as we set off, several accompanying us part of the way from the camp. We were by this time pretty well accustomed to travelling over the ice, but we had great difficulty in making our dogs, who had not been well trained, pull together, and the mate, losing patience, declared that he would rather drag the sledge himself, and that he wished the dogs back again.
”If he were to try it for half an hour he would change his tone,”
observed Sandy to me; ”the doggies will get along well enough in a few days.”
”In a few days!” I exclaimed, ”I thought that we should get to the sh.o.r.e by night-fall.”
”Many a night will fall before we reach it,” answered Sandy. ”If we could go in a straight line over smooth ice, at a jog trot, the case would be different. We shall have to make our way in and out among the bergs and hummocks, and maybe to take a long circ.u.mbendibus to avoid any waterholes in our course; we are very likely to fall in with some, solid as the ice appears hereabouts.”
I soon found that Sandy was perfectly correct in his prognostications.
For the early part of the first day we got on well enough. We had our choice of climbing over numerous ridges from ten to twenty feet in height, or going round until we could find a pa.s.sage between them. We had thus made less than three miles when the night closed in on us. We then put up our tent, lighted our lamp, and crept into our sleeping sacks. Though our quarters were rather close, we were more comfortable than I could have supposed possible. We had a long night, and with the first streaks of dawn, having breakfasted inside our tent on coffee boiled over the lamp, we again proceeded. Our dogs, I should have said, slept outside, and they formed a sufficient guard to give us notice should any bears approach.
The next day we made even less progress than on the first, though we met with no accident to hinder us. Sometimes we dragged the sledge over the hummocks, and sometimes we went round them, the dogs preferring the former method, as while we toiled they sat up on their tails watching our proceedings with infinite satisfaction.