 20 Unmerciful disaster. In the morning after breakfast it was decided that the men should begin to dig a sloping bed which would allow the how-brain to slide to the foot of the iceberg. Would that heaven might grant success to the operation? For who could contemplate without terror having to brave the severity of the austral winter, and to pass six months under such conditions as ours on a vast iceberg, dragged none could tell wither? Once the winter had set in, none of us could have escaped from that most terrible of fates dying of cold. At this moment Dirk Peters, who was observing the horizon from south to east at about one hundred paces off, cried in a rough voice, Lying to! Lying to? What could the half-breed mean by that except that the floating mass had suddenly ceased to drift? As for the cause of this stoppage it was neither the moment to investigate it nor to ask ourselves what the consequences were likely to be. It is true, however, cried the bow-sun, the iceberg is not stirring, and perhaps has not stirred since it capsized. How, said I, it no longer changes its place? No, replied the mate, and the proof is that the others, drifting on, are leaving it behind. And in fact, whilst five or six icebergs were descending towards the south, ours was as motionless as though it had been stranded on a shoal. The simplest explanation was that the new base had encountered ground at the bottom of the sea, to which it now adhered, and would continue to adhere unless the submerged part rose in the water, so as to cause a second capsize. This complicated matter seriously, because of the dangers of positive immobility, were such that the chances of drifting were preferable. At least in the latter case there was some hope of coming across a continent or an island, or even if the currents did not change, of crossing the boundaries of the Austral region. Here we were, then, after three months of this terrible voyage. Was there now any question of trying to save William Guy, his comrades on the Jane, and Arthur Pym? Was it not for our own safety that any means at our disposal should be employed? And could it be wondered at, were the sailors of the Halbrane to rebel? Were they to listen to Heron's suggestion, and make their officers, or myself especially, responsible for the disasters of this expedition? Moreover was it likely to take place, since, notwithstanding their losses, the followers of the Sealing Master were still a majority of the ship's company? The question I could clearly see was occupying the thoughts of Captain Len Guy, and West. Again, although the recruits from the Falklands formed only a total of fourteen men, as against the twelve of the old crew, was it not to be feared that some of the latter would take her inside? What if Heron's people, urged by despair, were already thinking of seizing the only boat we now possessed, setting off towards the North, and leaving us on this iceberg? It was then of great importance that our boat should be put in safety, and closely watched. A marked change had taken place in Captain Len Guy, since the recent occurrences. He seemed to be transformed, upon finding himself face to face with the dangers which menaced us. Up to that time he had been solely occupied in searching for his fellow countrymen. He had handed over the command of the Schooner to West, and he could not have given it to any one more zealous and more capable. But from this date he resumed his position as Master of the Ship, and used it with the energy required by the circumstances. In a word he again became sole Master on board, after God. At his command the crew were drawn up around him, on a flat spot, a little to the left of the Howell Brain. In that place the following were assembled. On the senior side Martin Holt and Hardy, Rogers, Francis, Grachien, Barry, Stern, the Cook, and a cot, and I may add, Dirk Peters, on the side of the newcomers, Hearn, and the thirteen other Falkland Sailors. The latter composed a distinct group. The ceiling master was their spokesman, and exercised a baneful influence over them. Captain Len Guy cast a stern glance upon the men, and said, in a sharp tone, Sailors of the Howell Brain, I must first speak to you of our lost companions. Five of us have just perished in this catastrophe. We are waiting to perish in our turn in these seas, for we have been dragged in spite of—Be silent, Hearn! cried West, pale with anger, or if not—Hearn has said what he had to say, Captain Len Guy continued coldly. Now it is said, and I advise him not to interrupt me a second time. The ceiling master might possibly have ventured on an answer, for he felt that he was backed by the majority of the crew. But Martin Holt held him back, and he was silent. Captain Len Guy then took off his hat and pronounced the following words with an emotion that affected us to the bottom of our hearts. We must pray for those who have died in this dangerous voyage, which was undertaken in the name of humanity. May God be pleased to take into consideration the fact that they devoted their lives to their fellow-creatures, and may he not be insensible to our prayers. Kneel down, Sailors of the Howell Brain. They all knelt down on the icy surface, and the murmurs of prayers ascended towards heaven. We waited for Captain Len Guy to rise before we did so. Now, he resumed, after those who are dead, come those who have survived. To them I say that they must obey me, whatever my orders may be, and even in our present situation I shall not tolerate any hesitation or opposition. The responsibility for the general safety is mine, and I will not yield any of it to any one. I am master here, as on board. On board when there is no longer a ship, muttered the ceiling-master. You are mistaken, her, and the vessel is there, and we will put it back into the sea. Besides, if we had only a boat, I am the captain of it. Let him beware who forgets this. That day Captain Len Guy, having taken the height of the sun by this extent, and fixed the hour by the chronometer, both of these instruments had escaped destruction in the collision, obtained the following position of his ship. South latitude, eighty-eight degrees, fifty-five minutes. West longitude, thirty-nine degrees, twelve minutes. The how-bring was only at one degree, five minutes, about sixty-five miles from the South Pole. All hands to work, was the captain's order that afternoon, and everyone obeyed it with a will. There was not a moment to lose, as the question of time was more important than any other. So far as provisions were concerned there was enough in the schooner for eighteen months on full rations, so we were not threatened with hunger, nor with thirst, either. Notwithstanding that, owing to water casks having been burst in the collision, their contents had escaped through their staves. Luckily the barrels of gin, whiskey, beer, and wine, being placed in the least exposed part of the hold, were nearly all intact. Under this head we had experienced no loss. And the iceberg would supply us with good drinking water. It is a well-known fact that ice, whether formed from fresh or salt water, contains no salt, owing to the chloride of sodium being eliminated in the change from liquid to the solid state. The origin of the ice, therefore, is a matter of no importance. However, those blocks which are easily distinguished by their green colour and their perfect transparency are preferable. They are solidified rain and therefore much more suitable for drinking water. Without doubt our captain would have recognized any blocks of this description, but none were to be found on the glacier, owing to its being that part of the Berg which was originally submerged and came to the top after the fall. The captain and West decided first to lighten the vessel by conveying everything on board to land. The masts were to be cleared of rigging, taking out, and placed on the plateau. It was necessary to lighten the vessel as much as possible, even to clear out the ballast, owing to the difficult and dangerous operation of launching. It would be better to put off our departure for some days if this operation could be performed under more favourable circumstances. The loading might afterwards be accomplished without much difficulty. Besides this, another reason, by no means less serious, presented itself to us. It would have been an act of unpardonable rashness to leave the provisions in the storeroom of the how-brain, her situation on the side of the iceberg being very precarious. One shake would suffice to detach the ship, and with her would have disappeared the supplies on which our lives depended. On this account we passed the day in removing casks of half salted meat, dried vegetables, flour, biscuits, tea, coffee, barrels of gin, whiskey, wine and beer from the hold, and storeroom, and placing them safely in the hammocks near the how-brain. We also had to ensure our landing against any possible accident, and I must add, against any plot on the part of Herne and others to seize the boat in order to return to the ice-barrier. We placed the long boat in a cavity which would be easy to watch, about thirty feet to the left of the schooner, along with its oars, rudder, compass, anchor, mast, and sail. By day there was nothing to fear, and at night, or rather during the hours of sleep, the bow-sun and one of the superiors would keep guard near the cavity, and we might rest assured that no evil could befall. The nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first of January were passed in working extra hard in the unshipping of the cargo, and the dismantling of the how-brain. We slung the lower mast by means of yards forming prompts. Later on, westward sea to replace in the main and the mizzen mast, in any case, we could do without them until we had reached the Falklands or some other winter-port. Needless to say, we had set up a camp on the plateau of which I have spoken, not far from the how-brain. Sufficient shelter against the inclemacy of weather, not unfrequent at this time of the year, was to be found under tents, constructed of sails, placed on spars, and fastened down by pegs. The glass remained set fair. The wind was nor-east, the temperature-haven risen to forty-six degrees, two-point seven-eight degrees Celsius. Endicott's kitchen was fitted up at the end of the plain, near a steep projection by which we could climb to the very top of the burg. It is only fair to state that during these three days of hard work no fault was to be found with Hearn. The ceiling master knew he was being closely watched, and he was well aware that Captain Lengai would not spare him if he tried to get up in subordination amongst his comrades. It was a pity that his bad instincts had induced him to play such a part, for his strength, skill, and cleverness made him a very valuable man, and he had never proved more useful than under these circumstances. As he changed for the better, did he understand that the general good feeling was necessary for the safety of all? I know not, but I had no confidence in him, neither had Hurley girly. I need not dwell on the arger with which the half-breed did the rough work, always first to begin and the last to leave off, doing as much as four men, and scarcely sleeping, only resting during meals, which he took apart from the others. He had hardly spoken to me at all since the schooner had met with this terrible accident. What indeed could he say to me? Did I not know as well as he, that it would be necessary to renounce every hope of pursuing our intended voyage? Now and again I noticed Martin Holt and the half-breed near each other while some difficult piece of work was in progress. Our sailing master did not miss a chance of getting near jerk Peter's, who always tried his best to escape from him, for reasons well known to me. And whenever I thought of the secret of the fate of the so-called Parker, Martin Holt's brother, which had been entrusted to me, that dreadful scene of the Grampus filled me with horror. I was certain that if this secret were made known the half-breed would become an object of terror. He would no longer be looked upon as the rescuer of the sailing master, and the latter learning that his brother, luckily jerk Peter's and myself were the only two acquainted with the fact. While the hull-brain was being unloaded, Captain Lenghain the mate were considering how the vessel might be launched. They had to allow for a drop of one hundred feet between the cavity in which the ship lay and the sea. This to be affected by means of an inclined bed hollowed in an oblique line along the west side of the iceberg, and to measure two or three hundred perches in length. So while the first lot of men commanded by the boson was unloading the schooner, a second batch, under west orders, began to cut the trench between the blocks which covered the side of the floating mountain. Floating, I know not why I use this expression, for the iceberg no longer floated, but remained as motionless as an island. There was nothing to indicate that it would ever move again. Other icebergs drifted along and passed us, going southeast, without stars, to use Dirk Peter's expression, was lying, too. Would its base be sufficiently undermined to allow it to detach itself? Perhaps some heavy mass of ice might strike it and set it free by the shock. No one could predict such an event, and we had only the hull-brain to lie upon for getting us out of these regions. We were engaged in these various tasks until the twenty-fourth of January. The atmosphere was clear, the temperature was even, and the thermometer had indeed gone up two or three degrees above freezing point. The number of icebergs coming from the northwest was therefore increasing. There were now a hundred of them, and a collision with any of these might have a most disastrous result. Hardy, the conker, hastened first of all to mend the hull. Pegs had to be changed, pits of planking to be replaced. We had everything that was necessary for this work. And we might rest assured that it would be performed in the best possible manner. In the midst of the silence of these solitudes, the noise of the hammers, striking the nails into the side, and the sound of the mallet, stuffing tau into the seams, had a startling effect. Sea gulls, wild ducks, albatross and petrels flew in a circle round the top of the burg, with a shrill screaming and made a terrible uproar. When I found myself with West and the Captain, our conversation naturally turned on our situation and how to get out of it, and upon our chances of pulling through. The mate had good hopes that if no accident occurred the launching would be successfully accomplished. The Captain was more reserved on the subject, but at the thought that he would have to renounce all hope of finding the survivors of the Jane, his heart was ready to break. When the howl-brain should be ready again for the sea, and West should inquire what course he was to steer, would Captain Lengai dare to reply to the South? No, for he would not be followed either by the new hands or by the greater portion of the old members of the crew. Do continue our search in this direction to go beyond the pole without being certain of reaching the Indian Ocean instead of the Atlantic, would have been rashness of which no navigator would be guilty. If a continent bound to the sea on this side, the schooner would run the danger of being crushed by the mass of ice before it could escape the southern winter. Under such circumstances, to attempt to persuade Captain Lengai to pursue the voyage would only be to court a certain refusal. It could not even be proposed, now that necessity obliged us to return northwards and not to delay a single day in this portion of the Antarctic regions. At any rate, though I resolved not again to speak of the matter to the Captain, I lost no opportunity of sounding the bow-sun. Often when he had finished his work, hurly-girly would come and join me, we would chat, and we would compare our recollections of travel. CHAPTER 20 UNMERCIFUL DISASTER One day, as we were seated on the summit of the iceberg, gazing fixedly on the deceptive horizon, he exclaimed, "'Who could ever have imagined, Mr. Jorling, when the howl-brain left Kurgulin, that six-and-a-half months afterwards, she would be stuck on the side of an ice-mountain?' "'A fact much more to be regretted,' I replied, because only for that accident we should have attained our object, and we should have begun our return journey.' "'I didn't mean to contradict,' replied the bow-sun, "'but you say we should have attained our object, do you mean by that, that we should have found our countrymen? Perhaps. I can scarcely believe such would have been the case, Mr. Jorling, although this was the principle, and perhaps even the only object of our navigation in the polar seas.' "'The only one, yes, at the start,' I insinuated, but since the half-breed's revelations about Harther Pym. He were always harking back on that subject, like brave Dirk Peters. Always hurly-girly, and only that a deplorable and unforeseen accident made us run aground. I leave you to your delusions, Mr. Jorling, since you believe you have run aground. Why, is this not the case?' "'In any case, it is a wonderful running aground,' replied the bow-sun, "'instead of a good solid bottom, we have run aground in the air.' "'Then I am right, hurly-girly, in saying that it is an unfortunate adventure. Unfortunate truly, but in my opinion we should take warning by it. What warning? That it is not permitted for us to venture so far in these latitudes, and I believe that the Creator forbids his creatures to climb to the summit of the poles.' "'Notwithstanding that, the summit of one pole is only sixty miles away from us now.' "'Guranted, Mr. Jorling, but these sixty miles are equal to the thousands when we have no means of making them. And if the launch of the schooner is not successful, here we are condemned to winter quarters which the polar bears themselves would hardly relish.' "'I replied only by a shake of my head, which hurly-girly could not fail to understand. Do you know, Mr. Jorling, of what I think oftenest? What do you think of, bow-sun? Of the Kurgolans, whether we are certainly not travelling. Truly in a bad season it was cold enough there. There is not much difference between this archipelago and the islands situated on the edge of the Antarctic Sea. But there one is not far from the Cape, and if we want to warm our shins, no icebergs bars the way. Whereas here it is the devil-to-way anchor, and one never knows if one shall find a clear course.' "'I repeat it, bow-sun, if this last accident had not occurred everything would have been over by this time, one way or another. We should still have had more than six weeks to get out of these southern seas. It is seldom that a ship is so roughly treated as ours has been, and I consider it real bad luck after our having profited by such fortunate circumstances.' "'These circumstances are all over, Mr. Jorling,' exclaimed hurly-girly. And I fear indeed. What, you also, bow-sun? you whom I believe to be so confident?' "'Confidence, Mr. Jorling, wears out like the ends of one's trousers. What would you have me do?' When I compare my lot to old Atkins installed in his cozy inn, when I think of the green cormorant of the big parlours downstairs, with the little tables round which friends sip whiskey and gin, discussing the news of the day, while the stove makes more noise than the weather-cock on the roof. Oh, then the comparison is not in our favour, and in my opinion Mr. Atkins enjoys life better than I do.' "'You shall see them all again, bow-sun. Atkins, the green cormorant, and the curgulun, for God's sake, do not let yourself grow down-hearted, and if you, a sensible and courageous man, despair already. Oh, if I were the only one it would not be half so bad as it is. The whole crew does not despair, surely?' "'Yes and no,' replied Hurley-Gurley, for I know some who are not at all satisfied. Has Hearn begun his mischief again? Is he exciting his companion?' "'Not openly at least, Mr. Jorling, and since I have kept him under my eye I have neither seen nor heard anything. Besides, he knows what awaits him if he budges. I believe I am not mistaken. This lie-dog has changed his tactics. But what does not astonish me and him? Astonishes me and Martin Holt.' "'What do you mean, bow-sun?' "'That they seem to be on good terms with each other. See how Hurren seeks out Martin Holt, talks to him frequently, and Holt does not treat his overtures unfavorably. Martin Holt is not one of those who would listen to Hurren's advice, or follow it if he tried to provoke rebellion amongst the crew.' "'No doubt, Mr. Jorling. However, I don't fancy seeing them so much together. Hurren is a dangerous and unscrupulous individual, and most likely Martin Holt does not distrust him sufficiently. He is wrong, bow-sun. And, wait a moment, do you know what they were talking about the other day when I overheard a few scraps of their conversation?' "'I could not possibly guess until you tell me, hurdy-gurly.' "'Well, while they were conversing on the bridge of the Halbrain, I heard them talking about Dirk Peter's, and Hurren was saying, "'You must not owe a grudge to the half-breed Master Holt, because he refused to respond to advances and accept your thanks. If he be only a sort of brute, he possesses plenty of courage, and has shown it in getting you out of a bad corner at the risk of his life. And besides, do not forget, that he formed part of the crew of the Grampus, and your brother Ned, if I don't mistake.' "'He said that, bow-sun? He spoke of the Grampus?' I exclaimed. "'Yes, of the Grampus.' "'And of Ned Holt?' "'Precisely, Mr. Jorling.' "'And what answer did Martin Holt make?' "'He replied, I don't even know under what circumstances my unfortunate brother perished. Was it during a revolt on board? Brave man that he was, he would not betray his captain, and perhaps he was massacred.' "'Did Hurren dwell on this, bow-sun?' "'Yes, but he added. It is very sad for you, Master Holt. The captain of the Grampus, according to what I have been told, was abandoned, being placed in a small boat with one or two of his men. And who knows if your brother was not along with them? And what next?' "'Then, Mr. Jorling,' he added, did it never occur to you to ask Dirk Peters to enlighten you on the subject?' "'Yes, once,' replied Martin Holt. "'I questioned the half-breed about it, and never did I see a man so overcome. He replied in so low a voice that I could scarcely understand him. I know not, I know not.' And he ran away with his face buried in his hands. "'Was that all you heard of the conversation, bow-sun?' "'That was all, Mr. Jorling, and I thought it so strange that I wished to inform you of it.' "'And what conclusion did you draw from it?' "'Nothing, except that I look upon the ceiling-master as a scoundrel of deepest dye, perfectly capable of working in secret for some evil purpose with which he would like to associate Martin Holt?' "'What did Hearn's new attitude mean? Why did he strive to gain Martin Holt, one of the best of the crew, as an ally? Why did he recall the scenes of the Grampus? Did Hearn know more of this matter of Dirk Peters and Ned Holt than the others? This secret which the half-breed and I believed ourselves to be the sole possessors?' The doubt caused me serious uneasiness. However, I took care not to say anything of it to Dirk Peters. If he had for a moment suspected that Hearn spoke of what happened on board the Grampus, if he had heard that the rascal, as hurly-girly called him, and not without reason, constantly talked to Martin Holt about his brother, I really do not know what would have happened. In short, whatever the intentions of Hearn might be, it was dreadful to think that our sailing-master, on whose fidelity Captain Len Guy ought to be able to count, was in conspiracy with him. The sailing-master must have a strong motive for acting in this way, what it was I could not imagine. Although the crew seemed to have abandoned every thought of mutiny, a strict watch was kept, especially on Hearn. Besides, the situation must soon change, at least so far as the schooner was concerned. Two days afterwards the work was finished, the caulking operations were completed, and also the slide for lowering the vessel to the base of our floating mountain. Just now the upper portion of the ice had been slightly softened, so that this last work did not entail much labour for pickaxe or spade. The course ran obliquely round the west side of the berg, so that the incline should not be too great at any point. With cables properly fixed, the launch, it seemed, might be affected without any mishap. I rather feared lest the melting of the ice should make the gliding less smooth at the lower part of the berg. Needless to say the cargo, masting, anchors, chains, etc., had not been put on board. The hull was quite heavy enough, and not easily moved, so it was necessary to lighten it as much as possible. When the schooner was again in its element, the loading could be affected in a few days. On the afternoon of the twenty-eighth, the finishing touches were given. It was necessary to put supports for the sides of the slide in some places where the ice had melted quickly. Then everyone was allowed to rest from four o'clock p.m. The captain had double rations served out to all hands, and while they merited this extra supply of spirits, they had indeed worked hard during the week. I repeated that every sign of mutiny had disappeared. The crew thought of nothing except this great operation of the launching. The hull-brain in the sea would mean departure. It would also mean return. For Dirk Peter's Emmy it would be the definite abandonment of Arthur Pym. That night the temperature was at the highest we had so far experienced. The thermometer registered fifty-three degrees, eleven point six seven degrees Celsius, above zero. So, although the sun was nearing the horizon, the ice was melting, and thousands of small streams flowed in every direction. The early birds woke at four o'clock, and I was one of their number. I had scarcely slept, and I fancy that Dirk Peter's did not sleep much, haunted as he was by the sad thought of having to turn back. The launch was to take place at ten o'clock. Taking every possible difficulty into account, and allowing for the minutest precautions, the captain hoped that it would be completed before the close of the day. Everyone believed that by evening the schooner would be at the foot of the Berg. Of course we all had to lend a hand to this difficult task. To each man a special duty was assigned. Some were employed to facilitate the sliding with wooden rollers if necessary, others to moderate the speed of the hull in case it became too great by means of hazers and cables. We breakfasted at nine o'clock in the tents. Our sailors were perfectly confident and could not refrain from drinking success to the event. And although this was a little premature, we added our hurrahs to theirs. Success seemed very nearly assured, as the captain and the maid had worked out the matter so carefully and skillfully. At last we were about to leave our encampment and take up our stations. Some of the sailors were there already, and cries of amazement and fear were raised. What a frightful scene and short as it may have been, what an impression of terror it left on our minds. One of the enormous blocks which formed the bank of the mud-bed where the how-brained lie, having become loose owing to the melting of its base, had slipped and was bounding over the others down the incline. In another moment the schooner, being no longer retained in position, was swinging on this declivity. On board, on deck, in front, there were two sailors, Rogers and Grichen, in vain did the unfortunate men try to jump over the bulwarks. They had not time, and they were dragged away in this dreadful fall. Yes, I saw it. I saw the schooner topple over, slide down, first on its right side, crush one of the men who delayed too long about jumping to one side, then bound from block to block, and finally fling itself into space. In another moment the how-brained staved in, broken up, with gaping planks and shattered ribs had sunk, causing a tremendous jet of water to spout up at the foot of the iceberg. Horrified, yes indeed we were horrified when the schooner, carried off as though by an avalanche, had disappeared in the abyss. Not a particle of our how-brained men remained, not even a wreck. A minute ago she was one hundred feet in the air, now she was five hundred in the depths of the sea. Yes, we were so stupefied that we were unable to think of the dangers to come. Our amazement was that of people who cannot believe their eyes. Prostrations succeeded as a natural consequence. There was not a word spoken. We stood motionless, with our feet rooted to the icy soil. No words could express the horror of our situation. As for West, when the schooner had disappeared in the abyss, I saw big tears fall from his eyes. The how-brained that he loved so much was now an unknown quantity. Yes, our stout-hearted mate wept. Three of our men had perished. And in what frightful fashion! I had seen Rogers and Gretchen. Two of our most faithful sailors stretch out their hands in despair as they were knocked about by the rebounding of the schooner, and finally sink with her. The other man from the Falklands, an American, was crushed in its rush. His shapeless form lay in a pool of blood. Three new victims, within the last ten days, had to be inscribed on the register of those who died during this fatal voyage. Ah, fortune had favoured us up to the hour when the how-brain was snatched from her own element. But her hand was now against us, and was not this last, the worst blow. Must it not prove the stroke of death? The silence was broken by a tumult of despairing voices, whose despair was justified, indeed, by this irreparable misfortune. And I am sure that more than one thought it would have been better to have been on the how-brain as she rebounded off the side of the iceberg. Everything would have been over then, as it was all over with Rogers and Gretchen. This foolish expedition would thus have come to a conclusion worthy of such rashness and imprudence. At last the instinct of self-preservation triumphs, and except turn, who stood some distance off, and effected silence, all the men shouted, to the boat, to the boat. These unfortunate fellows were out of their mind. Terror led them astray. They rushed towards the craig, where a one boat, which could not hold them all, had been sheltered during the unloading of the schooner. Captain Len Guy and Jem West rushed after them. I joined them immediately, followed by the bow-sun. We were armed, and resolved to make use of our arms. We had to prevent these furious men from seizing the boat, which did not belong to a few, but to all. �Hello, zealors!� cried the captain. �Hello!� repeated West. �Stop there, or we fire on the first, who goes a step further.� Both threatened the men with their pistols. The bow-sun pointed his gun at them. I held my rifle, ready to fire. It was in vain, the frenzied men heard nothing, would not hear anything, and one of them fell, struck by the mate's bullet, just as he was crossing the last block. He was unable to catch on to the bank with his hands, and slipping on the frozen slope, he disappeared in the abyss. Was this the beginning of a massacre? Would others let themselves be killed at this place? Would the old hands side with the newcomers? At that moment I remarked that Hardy, March and Holt, Francis Burry, and Stern hesitated about coming over to our side, while Hearn, still standing motionless at some distance, gave no encouragement to the rebels. However, we could not allow them to become masters of the boat, to bring it down, to embark ten or twelve men, and to abandon us to our certain fate on this iceberg. They had almost reached the boat, heedless of danger and death to threats, when a second report was heard, and one of the sailors fell, by a bullet from the boson's gun. One American and one Fugian, lest to be numbered amongst the ceiling master's partisans. Then, in front of the boat, a man appeared. It was Dirk Peters, who had climbed the opposite slope. The half-breed put one of his enormous hands on the stern, and with the other made a sign to the furious men to clear off. Dirk Peters being there, we no longer needed our arms, as he alone would suffice to protect the boat. And indeed, as five or six of the sailors were advancing, he went up to them, caught hold of the nearest by the belt, lifted him up and sent him flying ten paces off. The wretched man, not being able to catch hold of anything, would have rebounded into the sea, had not Hearn seized him. Owing to the half-breed's intervention, the revolt was instantly quelled. Besides, we were coming up to the boat, and with us those of our men whose hesitation had not lasted long. No matter, the others were still thirteen to our ten. Captain Lengai made his appearance. Anger shone in his eyes, and with him was west, quite unmoved. Words failed the captain for some moments, but his looks said what his tongue could not utter. At length, in a terrible voice, he said, I ought to treat you as evil doers. However, I will only consider you as madmen. The boat belongs to everybody. It is now our only means of salvation, and you wanted to steal it, to steal it like cowards. Listen attentively to what I say for the last time. This boat, belonging to the half-brain, is now the half-brain herself. I am Captain of it, and let him who disobey me beware. With these last words, Captain Lengai, looked at Hearn, for whom this warning was expressly meant. The ceiling-master had not appeared in the last scene, not openly at least, but nobody doubted that he had urged his comrades to make off with the boat, and that he had every intention of doing the same again. No, to the camp, said the captain, and you, Dirk Peters, remain here. The half-breed's only reply was to nod his big head and be take himself to his post. The crew returned to the camp without the least hesitation. Some lay down in their sleeping-places, others wandered about. Hearn neither tried to join them nor go near Merchant Holt. Now that the sailors were reduced to idleness, there was nothing to do except to ponder on our critical situation, and invent some means of getting out of it. The captain, the mate in the bow-sun, formed a council, and I took part in their deliberations. Captain Leng began by saying, We have protected our boat, and we shall continue to protect it. Shall death declare it west? Who knows, said I, whether we shall not soon be forced to embark. In that case, replied the captain, as all cannot fit into it, it will be necessary to make a selection. Lots shall determine which of us are to go, and I shall not ask to be treated differently from the others. We have not come to that luckily, replied the bow-sun, the iceberg is solid, and there is no fear of its melting before winter. No, assented west, that is not to be feared. What it behooves us to do is, while watching the boat, to keep an eye on the provisions. We are lucky, added hurly-girly, to have put our cargo in safety. Poor, dear, how-brain, she will remain in these seas like the Jane, her elder sister. Yes, without doubt, and I thought so for many reasons, the one destroyed by the savages allow, the other, by one of these catastrophes, that no human power can prevent. You are right, replied the captain, and we must prevent our men from plundering. We are sure of enough provisions for one year, without counting what we may get by fishing. And it is so much more than necessary, captain, to keep a close watch, because I have seen some hovering about the spirit casks. I will see to that, replied West. But, I then asked, had we not better prepare ourselves for the fact that we may be compelled to winter on this iceberg? May heaven avert such a terrible probability, replied the captain. After all, if it were necessary, we could get through it, Mr. Jorling, said the both son, wake and hollow out, sheltering places in the ice, so as to be able to bear the extreme cold of the whole, and so long as we had sufficient, to appease our hunger. At this moment the horrid recollection of the Grampus came to my mind, the scenes in which Dirk Peters had killed Ned Holt, the brother of our sailing-master. Should we ever be in such extremity? Would it not, before we proceed to set up winter quarters for seven or eight months, be better to leave the iceberg altogether, if such a thing were possible? I called the attention of Captain Langeye and West to this point. This was a difficult question to answer, and along silence preceded the reply. At last the captain said, Yes, that would be the best resolution to come to, and if our boat could hold us all, with the provisions necessary for a voyage that might last three or four weeks, I would not hesitate to put to sea now and return towards the north. But I made them observe that we should be obliged to direct our course contrary to wind and current. Our schooner herself could hardly have succeeded in doing this, whilst to continue towards the south. Towards us south, repeated the captain, who looked at me as though he sought to read my thoughts. Why not, I answered, if the iceberg had not been stopped in its passage, perhaps it would have drifted to some land in that direction, and might not our boat accomplished what it would have done? The captain, shaking his head, answered nothing. West was also silent. Eh! our iceberg will end by raising its anchor! replied hurly-girly, It does not hold to the bottom, like the Falklands or the Kurgulans. So the safest course is to wait, as the boat cannot carry twenty-three, the number of our party. I dwelt upon the fact that it was not necessary for all twenty-three to embark. It would be sufficient, I said, for five or six of us to reconnoiter further south for twelve or fifteen miles. South! repeated Captain Lengai. Undoubtedly, Captain, I added, you probably know what the geographers frankly admit that the Antarctic regions are formed by a capped continent. Geographers know nothing and can know nothing about it, replied west coldly. It is a pity, said I, that as we are so near we should not attempt to solve this question of a polar continent. I thought it was better not to insist just at present. CHAPTER XXIII Moreover there would be danger in sending out our only boat on a voyage of discovery, as the current might carry it too far, or it might not find us again in the same place. And indeed if the iceberg happened to get loose at the bottom, and to resume its interrupted drift, what would become of the men in the boat? The drawback was that the boat was too small to carry us all, with the necessary provisions. Now of the seniors there remained ten men, counting Dirk Peters, of the new men there were thirteen, twenty-three in all. The largest number our boat could hold was from eleven to twelve persons. Then eleven of us, indicated by lot, would have to remain on this island of ice. And what would become of them? With regard to this, Hurley Gurley made a sound observation. After all, he said, I don't know that those who would embark would be better off than those who remained. I am so doubtful of the result that I would willingly give up my place to anyone who wanted it. Perhaps the boson was right, but in my own mind, when I asked that the boat might be utilized, it was for the purpose of reconnoitering the iceberg. We finally decided to arrange everything with a view to wintering out, even were our ice-mountain again to drift. We may be sure that we'll be agreed to by our men, declared Hurley Gurley. What is necessary must be done, replied the mate, and to-day we must set to work. That was a sad day on which we began our preparations. Endicott the cook was the only man who submitted without murmuring. As a negro who cares little about the future, shallow and frivolous like all his race, he resigned himself easily to his fate. And that is, perhaps, true philosophy. Besides when it came to the question of cooking, it mattered very little to him whether it was here or there, so long as his stoves were set up somewhere. So he said to his friend the mate, with his broad, negro smile. Luckily my kitchen did not go off with the schooner, and you shall see, Hurley Gurley, if I do not make up dishes just as good as on board the hell-brain, so long as provisions don't grow scarce, of course. "'Wow, they will not be wanting for some time to come,' replied the bow-son. We need not fear hunger, but cold. Such cold as would reduce you to an icicle, the minute you cease to warm your feet. Cold that makes your skin crack, and your skull split, even if we had some hundreds of tons of coal. But, all things being well calculated, there is only just what we'll do to boil this large kettle." "'And that is sacred,' cried Endicott, touching his forbidden, the kitchen before all. And that is the reason why it never strikes you to pity yourself, you old nigger. You can always make sure of keeping your feet warm at your oven. What would you have, bow-son? You are a first-rate cook, or are you not? When you are, you take advantage of it, but I will remember to keep you a little place before my stove.' "'That's good, that's good,' Endicott. Each one shall have his turn. There is no privilege even for a bow-son. On the whole it is better not to have fear famine. One can fight against the cold. We shall dig holes in the iceberg and cuddle ourselves up there. And why should we not have a general dwelling-room? We could make a cave for ourselves with pickaxes. I have heard tell that ice preserves heat. Well, let it preserve ours, and that is all I ask of it.' The hour had come for us to return to the camp and to seek our sleeping-places. Dirk Peters alone refused to be relieved of his duty as watchman of the boat, and nobody thought of disputing the post with him. Captain Langeye in west did not enter the tents until they had made certain that her and his companions had gone to their usual place of rest. I came back likewise and went to bed. I could not tell how long I had been sleeping, nor what time it was, when I found myself rolling on the ground after a violent shock. What could be happening? Was it another cap-size of the iceberg? We were all up in a second, then outside the tents in the full light of a night in the polar regions. A second-floating mass of enormous size had just struck our iceberg, which had hoisted the anchor, as the sailors say, and was drifting towards the south. An unhoped forechange in the situation had taken place. What were to be the consequences of our being no longer cast away at that place? The current was now carrying us in the direction of the pole. The first feeling of joy, inspired by this conviction, was, however, succeeded by all the terrors of the unknown. And what an unknown! Kirk Peters was only entirely rejoiced that we had resumed the route, which he believed would lead us to the discovery of traces of his poor pym. Far other ideas occupied the minds of his companions. Captain Len Guy no longer entertained any hope of rescuing his countrymen, and having reached the condition of despair he was bound by his duty to take his crew back to the north, so as to clear the Antarctic Circle while the season rendered it possible to do so. And we were being carried away towards the south. Naturally enough we were all deeply impressed by the fearfulness of our position, which may be summed up in a few words. We were no longer cast away, with a possible ship, but the tenets of a floating iceberg, with no hope but that our monster tenement might encounter one of the whaling ships whose business in the deep waters lies between the Orkneys, New Georgia, and the Sandwich Islands. A quantity of things had been thrown into the ice by the collision, which had set our iceberg afloat. But these were chiefly articles belonging to the howl-brain, owing to the precaution that had been taken on the previous day when the cargo was stowed away in the clefts. It had been only slightly damaged. What would become of us? Had all our reserves been swallowed up in that grim encounter? Now the two icebergs formed but one, which was travelling south at the rate of two miles an hour. At this rate thirty hours would suffice to bring us to the point of the axes at which the terrestrial meridians unite. Did the current which was carrying us along pass on to the pole itself, or was there any land which might arrest our progress? This was another question, and I discussed it with the bow-sun. Nobody knows, Mr. Jorling, was her legally's reply. If the current goes to the pole we shall go there, and if it doesn't we shan't. An iceberg isn't a ship, and it has neither sails nor helm. It goes as the drift takes it. That's true, bow-sun, and therefore I had the idea that if two or three of us were to embark in the boat—ah, you still hold to your notion of the boat! Certainly, for, if there is land somewhere, is it not possible that the people of the Jain have come upon it, Mr. Jorling, at four thousand miles from Salal Island? Who knows, bow-sun? That may be, but allow me to say that your argument will be reasonable when the land comes in sight, if ever it does so. Our captain will see what ought to be done, and he will remember that time presses. We cannot delay in these waters, and, after all, the one thing of real importance to us is to get out of the polar circle before the winter makes it impassable. There was good sense in Hurley-Gurley's words. I could not deny the fact. During that day the greater part of the cargo was placed in the interior of a vast cave-like fissure in the side of the iceberg, where, even in the case of a second collision, casks and barrels would be in safety. Our men then assisted Endicott to set up his cooking-stove between two blocks, so that it was firmly fixed, and they heaped up a great mass of coals close to it. No murmurs, no recriminations disturbed these labours. It was evident that silence was deliberately maintained. The crew obeyed the captain and West because they gave no orders, but such as were of urgent necessity. But afterwards would these men allow the authority of their leaders to be uncontested? How long would the recruits from the Falklands, who were already exasperated by the disasters of our enterprise, resist their desire to seize upon the boat and escape? I did not think they would make the attempt, however, so long as our icebergs should continue to drift, for the boat could not outstrip its progress. But, if it were to run aground once more, to strike upon the coast of an island or a continent, what would not these unfortunate creatures do to escape the horrors of wintering under such conditions? In the afternoon, during the hour of rest, allowed to the crew, I had a second conversation with Dirk Peters. I had taken my customary seat at the top of the iceberg, and had occupied it for half an hour, being, as may be supposed, deep in thought, when I saw the half-breed coming quickly up the slope. We had exchanged hardly a dozen words since the iceberg had begun to move again. When Dirk Peters came up to me, he did not address me at first, and was so intent on his thoughts that I was not quite sure he saw me. At length he leaned back against an ice-block and spoke. Mr. Jorling, he said, you remember in your cabin in the howl-brain. I told you the affair of the Grampus. I remembered well. I told you that Parker's name was not Parker, that it was Holt, and that he was Ned Holt's brother. I know, Dirk Peters, I replied, but why do you refer to that sad story again? Why, Mr. Jorling, have not? Have you never said anything to anybody? Not to anybody, I protested. How could you suppose I should be so ill-advised, so imprudent, as to divulge your secret, a secret which ought never to pass our lips, a dead secret? Dead, yes, dead, and yet understand me, it seems to me that among the crew something is known. I instantly recalled to mind what the Boson had told me, concerning a certain conversation in which he had overheard hern, prompting Martin Holt to ask the half-breed what were the circumstances of his brother's death on board the Grampus? Had a portion of the secret got out, or was this apprehension on the part of Dirk Peters purely imaginary? Explain yourself, I said. Understand me, Mr. Jorling. I'm a bad hand at explaining. Yes, yesterday I have thought of nothing else, since Martin Holt took me aside, far from the others, and told me that he wished to speak to me. Of the Grampus? Of the Grampus, yes, and of his brother Ned Holt. For the first time he uttered that name before me, and yet we have sealed together for nearly three months. The half-breed's voice was so changed that I could hardly hear him. It seemed to me, he resumed, that in Martin's Holt's mind, no, I was not mistaken, there was something like a suspicion. But tell me what he said, tell me exactly what he asked you, what is it? I felt sure that the question put by Martin Holt, whatsoever its bearing, had been inspired by Hearn. Nevertheless, as I considered it well, that the half-breed should know nothing of the ceiling-master's disquieting and inexplicable intervention in this tragic affair, I decided upon concealing it from him. He asked me, Dirk Peters replied, did I not remember Ned Holt of the Grampus, and whether he had perished in the fight with the mutineers or in the shipwreck, whether he was one of the men who had been abandoned with Captain Bernard? In short, he asked me, if I could tell him how his brother died. Ah, how! No idea could be conveyed of the horror with which the half-breed uttered words which revealed a profound loathing of himself. And what answer did you make to Martin Holt? None, none. You should have said that Ned Holt perished in the wreck of the brig. I could not, understand me, I could not, that two brothers are so like each other. In Martin Holt I seemed to see Ned Holt. I was afraid I got away from him. The half-breed drew himself up with a sudden movement, and I sat thinking, leaning in my head on my hands. These tardy questions of Holt's respecting his brother were put, I had no doubt whatsoever, at the instigation of Hearn. But what was his motive? And was it at the Falklands that he discovered the secret of Dirk Peter's? I had not breathed the word on the subject to any one. To the second question no answer suggested itself. The first involved a serious issue. Did the ceiling master merely desire to gratify his enmity against Dirk Peter's? The only one of the Falklands sailors who had always taken the side of Captain Len Guy? And who had prevented the seizure of the boat by Hearn and his companions? Did he hope, by arousing the wrath and vengeance of Martin Holt, to detach the sailing master from his allegiance, and induce him to become an accomplice in Hearn's own designs? And in fact, when it was a question of sailing the boat in these seas, had he not imperative need of Martin Holt, one of the best seamen of the Howe-Brain? A man who would succeed were Hearn and his companions would fail, if they had only betrayed themselves to depend upon. I became lost in this labyrinth of hypotheses, and it must be admitted that its complications added largely to the troubles of an already complicated position. When I raised my eyes, Dirk Peter's had disappeared. He had said what he came to say, and he now knew that I had not betrayed his confidence. The customary precautions were taken for the night, no individual being allowed to remain outside the camp, with the exception of the Half-breed, who was in charge of the boat. The following day was the thirty-first of January. I pushed back the canvas of the tent, which I shared with Captain Len Guy and West respectively, as each succeeded the other on release from the alternate watch, very early and experienced a severe disappointment. Missed everywhere. Nay, more than missed, a thick yellow, moldy smelling fog. And more than this again, the temperature had fallen sensibly. This was probably a forewarning of the austral winter. The summit of our ice mountain was lost in vapor, and a fog which would not resolve itself in terrain, but would continue to muffle up the horizon. Bad luck! said the Boathun, for now if we were to pass by land we should not perceive it. And our drift? More considerable than yesterday, Mr. Jorling, the Captain has sounded, and he makes a speed no less than between three and four miles. And what do you conclude from this? I conclude that we must be within a narrow or sea, since the current is so strong, I should not be surprised if we had land on both sides of us within ten or fifteen miles. Then this would be a wide strait that cuts the Antarctic continent? Yes, our Captain is of that opinion. And holding that opinion is he not going to make an attempt to reach one or other of the coast of this strait? And how? With the boat. Risk the boat in the midst of this fog? Exclaimed the Boathun, as he crossed his arms. What are you thinking of, Mr. Jorling? Can we cast anchor to wait for it? And all the chances would be that we should never see it again, if we only had the Halbrain. But there was no longer a Halbrain. In spite of the difficulty of the ascent, through the half-condense vapour, I climbed to the top of the iceberg, but when I had gained that eminence I strove in vain to pierce the impenetrable grey mantle in which the waters were wrapped. I remained there, hustled by the north-east wind, which was beginning to blow freshly, and might perhaps rend the fog asunder. But no, fresh vapours accumulated around our floating refuge, driven up by the immense ventilation of the open sea. Under the double action of the atmospheric and Antarctic currents we drifted more and more rapidly, and I perceived a sort of shudder passed throughout the vast bulk of the iceberg. Then it was that I felt myself under the dominion of a sort of hallucination. One of those hallucinations which must have troubled the mind of Arthur Pym. It seemed to me that I was losing myself in this extraordinary personality. At last I was beholding all that he had seen. Was not that impenetrable mist the curtain of vapours which he had seen in his delirium? I peered into it, seeking for those luminous rays which had streaked the sky from east to west. I sought it in its depths for that limitless cataract, rolling in silence from the height of some immense rampart lost in the vastness of the zenith. I sought for the awful white giant of the South Pole. At length reason resumed her sway. This visionary madness, intoxicating while it lasted, passed off by degrees and I descended the slope to our camp. The whole day passed without a change. The fog never once lifted to give us a glimpse outside of its muffling folds, and if the iceberg which had travelled forty miles since the previous day had passed by the extremity of the axis of the earth we should never know it. XXI. So this was the sum of all our efforts, trials and disappointments. Not to speak of the destruction of the howl-brain, the expedition had already cost nine lives. From thirty-two men who embarked on the schooner our number was reduced to twenty-three. How low was that figure yet to fall? Between the South Pole and Antarctic circle lay twenty degrees, and those would have to be cleared in a month or six weeks at the most. If not, the iceberg barrier would be reformed and closed up. As for wintering in that part of the Antarctic circle, not a man of us could have survived it. Besides we had lost all hope of rescuing the survivors of the Jane, and the sole desire of the crew was to escape as quickly as possible from the awful solitudes of the South. Our drift which had been South, down to the Pole, was now North, and if that direction should continue perhaps we might be favoured with such good fortune as would make up for all the evil that had befallen us. In any case there was nothing for it, but, in familiar phrase, to let ourselves go. The mist did not lift during the end, third and fourth February, and it would have been difficult to make out the rate of progress of our iceberg since it had passed the Pole. Captain Len Guy, however, and West, considered themselves safe in reckoning it at two hundred and fifty miles. The current did not seem to have diminished in speed or changed its course. It was now beyond a doubt that we were moving between two halves of a continent, one on the East, the other on the West, which formed the vast Antarctic region, and I thought it was a matter of great regret that we could not get aground on one or the other side of this vast strait whose surface would presently be solidified by the coming of winter. When I expressed this sentiment to Captain Len Guy, he made me the only logical answer. What would you have, Mr. Jorling? We are powerless, there is nothing to be done, and the persistent fog is the worst part of our ill luck. I no longer know where we are. It is impossible to take an observation, and this befalls us just as the sun is about to disappear for long months. Let me come back to the question of the boat, said I. For the last time could we not with the boat? Go on a discovery cruise? Can you think of such a thing? That would be an imprudence. I would not commit, even though the crew would allow me. I was on the point of exclaiming. And what if your brother and your countrymen have found refuge on some spot of the land that undoubtedly lies about us? But I restrained myself. Of what avail was it to reawaken our Captain's grief? He too must have contemplated this eventuality, and he had not renounced his purpose of further search without being fully convinced of the folly of our last attempt. During those three days of fog I had not cut sight of Dirk Peters, or rather he had made no attempt to approach, but had remained inflexibly at his post by the boat. Martin Holt's question, respecting his brother Ned, seemed to indicate that his secret was known, at least in part, and the half-breed held himself more than ever aloof, sleeping while the others watched, and watching in their time of sleep. I even wondered whether he regretted having confided in me, and fancied that he had aroused my repugnance by his sad story. If so, he was mistaken. I deeply pitied the poor half-breed. Nothing could exceed the melancholy monotony of the hours which we passed in the midst of a fog so thick that the wind could not lift its curtain. The position of the iceberg could not be ascertained. It went with the current at a like speed, and had it been motionless there would have been no appreciable difference for us, for the wind had fallen, at least, so we supposed, and not a breath was stirring. The flame of a torch held up in the air did not flicker. The silence of space was broken only by the clanger of sea-birds, which came in muffled croaking tones through the stifling atmosphere of vapor. Petrels and albatross swept the top of the iceberg, where they kept a useless watch in their flight. In what direction were those swift-winged creatures, perhaps already driven towards the confines of the Arctic region, but the approach of winter, bound? We could not tell, one day the bosun, who was determined to solve this question if possible, having mounted to the extreme top, not without risk of breaking his neck, came into such violent contact with a quibranta hasos, a sort of gigantic petrol measuring twelve feet with spread wings that he was flung on his back. Curse the bird, he said, on his return to the camp. Addressing the observation to me, I have had a narrow escape, a thump, and down I went sprawling. I saved myself, I don't know how, for I was all but over the side. Those icebergs, you know, slip through one's fingers like water. I called out to the bird. Can't you even look before you, you fool? But what was the good of that? The big blunderer did not even beg my pardon. In the afternoon of the same day, our ears were assailed by a hideous braing from below. Hurly girly remarked that as there was no asses to treat us to the concert it must have been given by penguins. Hitherto these countless dwellers in the polar regions had not thought proper to accompany us on our moving island. We had not even seen one, either at the foot of the iceberg or on the drifting packs. There could be no doubt that they were there in thousands, for the music was unmistakably that of a multitude of performers. Now those birds, frequent by choice, the edges of the coasts of islands and continents in high latitudes, or the ice-fields in their neighbourhood, was not their presence an indication that land was near? I asked Captain Len Guy what he thought of the presence of these birds. I think what you think, Mr. Jorling, he replied, since we have been drifting none of them have taken refuge on the iceberg, and here they are now in crowds. If we may judge by their deafening cries, from whence do they come, no doubt from land, which is probably near? Is this West's opinion? Yes, Mr. Jorling, and you know he is not given to vain imaginations. Certainly not. And then another thing has struck both him and me, which has apparently escaped your attention. It is that the braying of the penguins is mingled with a sound, like the lowing of cattle. Listen, and you will readily distinguish it. I listened, and sure enough the orchestra was more full than I had supposed. I hear the lowing plainly, I said. There are then seals and walruses also in the sea at the base. That is, search in Mr. Jorling, and I conclude from the fact that those animals, both birds and mammals, very rare since we left Sellele Island, frequent the waters into which the currents have carried us. Of course, Captain, of course. Oh, what a misfortune it is that we should be surrounded by this impenetrable fog, which prevents us from getting down to the base of the iceberg. There, no doubt, we should discover whether there are seaweed drifts around us. If that be so, it would be another sign. Why not try, Captain? No, no, Mr. Jorling. That might lead to falls, and I will not permit anybody to leave the camp. If land be there, I imagine our iceberg will strike it before long. And if it does not? If it does not, how are we to make it? I thought to myself that the boat might very well be used in the latter case. But Captain Len Guy preferred to wait, and perhaps this was the wiser course under our circumstances. At eight o'clock that evening the half-condensed mist was so compact that it was difficult to walk through. The composition of the air seemed to be changed, as though it were passing into a solid state. It was not possible to discern whether the fog had any effect upon the compass. I knew the matter had been studied by meteorologists, and that they believed they may safely affirm that the needle is not affected by this condition of the atmosphere. I will add here that since we had left the south pole behind, no confidence could be placed in the indications of the compass. It had gone wild at the approach to the magnetic pole, to which we were no doubt on the way. Nothing could be known, therefore, concerning the course of the iceberg. The sun did not quite set below the horizon at this period, yet the waters were wrapped intolerably deep darkness at nine o'clock in the evening when the muster of the crew took place. On this occasion each man as usual answered to his name except Dirk Peters. The call was repeated in the loudest of Hurley-Gurley's stentorian tones. No reply. "'Has nobody seen Dirk Peters during the day?' inquired the captain. "'Nobody,' answered the bowsun. "'Can anything have happened to him?' "'Don't be afraid,' cried the bowsun. "'Dirk Peters is in his element, and as much at his ease in the fog as a polar bear. He has got out of one bad scrape. He will get out of a second.' I let Hurley-Gurley have his say, knowing well why the half-breed kept out of the way. That night none of us, I am sure, could sleep. We were smothered in the tents, for lack of oxygen, and we were all more or less under the influence of a strange sort of presentiment, as though our fate were about to change, for better or worse. If indeed it could be worse. The night wore on without any alarm, and at six o'clock in the morning each of us came out to breathe a more wholesome air. The state of things was unchanged. The density of the fog was extraordinary. It was, however, found that the barometer had risen. Too quickly it is true, for the rise to be serious. Presently other signs of change became evident. The wind which was growing colder, a south wind, since we had passed beyond the south pole, began to blow a full gale, and the noises from below were heard more distinctly through the space swept by the atmospheric currents. At nine o'clock the iceberg doffed its cap of vapor quite suddenly, producing an indescribable transformation scene which no fairies want could have accomplished in less time or with greater success. In a few moments the sky was clear to the extreme verge of the horizon, and the sea reappeared, illumined by the oblique rays of the sun, which now rose only a few degrees above it. A rolling swell of the waves bathed the base of our iceberg in white foam, as it drifted, together with a great multitude of floating mountains under the double action of wind and current, on a course inclining to the north nor east. This cry came from the summit of the moving mountain, and Dirk Peters was revealed to our sight. Standing on the outermost block his hands stretched towards the north. The half-breed was not mistaken. The land this time, yes, it was land. Its distant heights of a blackish hue rose within three or four miles of us. Eighty-six degrees, twelve minutes, south latitude, one hundred and fourteen degrees, seventeen minutes, east longitude. The iceberg was nearly four degrees beyond the Antarctic pole, and from the western longitudes that our schooner had followed tracing the course of the Jain we had passed into the eastern longitudes. End of CHAPTER XXI. CHAPTER XXII of an Antarctic mystery, or the Sphinx of the Icefields. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. An Antarctic mystery by Jules Verne, CHAPTER XXII. IN CAMP. A little afternoon the iceberg was within a mile of the land. After dinner the crew climbed up to the topmost block on which Dirk Peters was stationed. On our approach the half-breed descended the opposite slope, and when I reached the top he was no longer to be seen. The land on the north evidently formed a continent or island of considerable extent. On the west there was a sharply projecting cape, surmounted by a sloping height which resembled an enormous seals-head on the side view. Then beyond that was a wide stretch of sea. On the east the land was prolonged out of sight. Each one of us took in a position. It depended on the current whether it would carry the iceberg into an eddy which might drive it on the coast, or continue to drift it towards the north, which was the more admissible hypothesis. Captain Len Guy, west hurly girly an eye, talked over the matter while the crew disgusted amongst themselves. Finally it was agreed that the current tended rather to carry the iceberg towards the northern point of land. After all, said Captain Len Guy, if it is habitable during the months of the summer season it does not look like being inhabited, since we cannot describe a human being on the shore. Let us bear in mind, Captain, said I, that the iceberg is not calculated to attract attention as the howl-brain would have done. Evidently Mr. Jorling and the natives, if there were any, would have been collected on the beach to see the howl-brain already. We must not conclude, Captain, because we do not see any natives. Certainly not, Mr. Jorling, but you will agree with me that the aspect of this land is very unlike that of Sallal Island, when the Jain reached it. There is nothing here but desolation and barrenness. I acknowledge that, barrenness and desolation, that is all. Nevertheless, I want to ask you whether it is your intention to go ashore, Captain. With the boat? With the boat! Should the current carry our iceberg away from the land? We have not an hour to lose, Mr. Jorling, and the delay of a few hours might condemn us to a cruel winter-stay if we arrive too late at the iceberg barrier. And, considering the distance, we are not too soon, observed West. I grant it, I replied, still persisting, but to leave this land behind us without ever having set foot on it, without having made sure, that it does not preserve the traces of an encampment if your brother, Captain, his companions, Captain Lengai, shook his head. How could the castaways have supported life in this desolate region for several months? Besides the British flag was hoisted on the summit of the iceberg, and William Gai would have recognized it and come down to the shore had he been living. No one, no one. At this moment West, who had been observing certain points of approach, said, Let us wait a little before we come to a decision. In less than an hour we shall be able to decide. Our speed is slackening, it seems to me, and it is possible that an eddy may bring us obliquely to the coast. That is my opinion, too, said the both son, and if our floating machine is not stationary it is nearly so. It seems to be turning around. West and Hurley-Gurley were not mistaken. For some reason or other the iceberg was getting out of the course which it had followed continuously. A gyratory movement had succeeded to that of drifting, owing to the action of an eddy which set towards the coast. Besides several ice-mountains in front of us had just run aground on the edge of the shore. It was then useless to discuss whether we should take to the boat or not. According as we approached the desolation of the land became more and more apparent, and the prospect of enduring six months wintering there would have appalled the stoutest hearts. At five in the afternoon the iceberg plunged into a deep rift in the coast, ending in a long point on the right, and there stuck fast. On shore, on shore, burst from every man, like a single exclamation, and the men were already hurrying down the slope of the iceberg when West commanded. Wait for orders! Some hesitation was shown, especially on the part of Hearn and several of his comrades. Then the instinct of discipline prevailed, and finally the whole crew ranged themselves around Captain Len Guy. It was not necessary to lower the boat, the iceberg being in contact with the point. The captain, the bosun of myself, preceding the others, were the first to quit the camp. Ours were the first human feet to tread this virgin and volcanic soil. We walked twenty minutes on rough land, strewn with rocks of igneous origin, solidified lava, dusty slag, and grey ashes, but without enough clay to grow even the hardiest plants. With some risk and difficulty Captain Len Guy, the bosun and I, succeeded in climbing the hill. This exploit occupied a whole hour. Although evening had come now it brought no darkness in its train. On the top of the hill we could see over an extent of from thirty to forty miles, and this was what we saw. Behind us lay the open sea, laden with floating masses. A great number of these had recently heaped themselves up against the beach and rendered it almost inaccessible. On the West was a strip of hilly land which extended beyond our sight, and was washed on the east side by a boundless sea. It was evident that we had been carried by the drift through a strait. If only we had our hell-brain, but our sole possession was a frail craft, barely capable of containing a dozen men, and we were twenty-three. There was nothing for it but to go down to the shore again, to carry the tents to the beach, and take measures in view of a winter sojourn under the terrible conditions imposed upon us by circumstances. Upon our return to the coast the boson discovered several caverns in the gigantic cliffs sufficiently spacious to house us all and afford storage for the cargo of the hell-brain. Whatever might be our ultimate decision, we could not do better than place our material and install ourselves in this opportune shelter. After we had reassented the slopes of the iceberg and reached our camp, Captain Len Guy had the men mustered. The only missing man was Dirk Peters, who had decidedly isolated himself from the crew. There was nothing to fear from him, however. He would be the faithful against the mutinous, and under all circumstances we might count upon him. When the circle had been formed Captain Len Guy spoke, without allowing any sign of discouragement to appear, and explained the position with the utmost frankness and lucidity, stating in the first place that it was absolutely necessary to lower the cargo to the coast and stow it away in one of the caverns. Concerning the vital question of food he stated that the supply of flour, preserved meat, and dried vegetables would suffice for the winter, however prolonged. And on that a fuel he was satisfied that we should not want for coal, provided it was not wasted. And it would be possible to economize it, as the hibernating waves might brave the cold of the polar zone under a covering of snow and a roof of ice. Was the Captain's tone of security feigned? I did not think so, especially as West approved of what he said. A third question raised by her remained, and was well calculated to arouse jealousy and anger amongst the crew. It was the question of the use to be made of the only craft remaining to us, ought the boat to be kept for the needs of our hibernation, or used to enable us to return to the iceberg barrier. Captain Langeye would not pronounce upon this. He desired to postpone the decision for twenty-four or forty-eight hours. The boat carrying the provisions necessary for such a voyage could not accommodate more than eleven or at the outside twelve men. If the departure of the boat were agreed to, then its passengers must be selected by lot. The Captain proceeded to state that neither West, the Boeson, I nor he, would claim any privilege but would submit to the fortune of the lot with all the others. Both Martin Holt and Hardy were perfectly capable of taking the boat to the fishing grounds where the whalers would still be found. Then those to whom the lot should fall were not to forget their comrades left to winter on the eighty-six parallel and were to send a ship to take them off at the return of summer. All this was said in a tone as calm as it was firm. I must do Captain Langeye the justice to say that he rose to the occasion. When he had concluded, without any interruption, even from her, no one made a remark, there was indeed none to be made, since in the given case lots were to be drawn under conditions of perfect equality. The hour of rest having arrived each man entered the camp, part took of the supper prepared by Endicott, and went to sleep for the last time under the tents. Dirk Peters had not reappeared, and I sought for him in vain. On the following day, the seventh of February, everybody set to work early with a will. The boat was let down with all due precaution to the base of the iceberg, and drawn up by the men on a little sandy beach out of reach of the water. It was in perfectly good condition, and thoroughly serviceable. The bow-sun then set to work on the former contents of the howl-brain, furniture, bedding, sails, clothing, instruments and utensils, stowed away in a cabin, these things would no longer be exposed to the knocking about and damage of the iceberg. The cases containing preserved food and the casks of spirits were rapidly carried ashore. I worked with the Captain and West at this onerous task, and Dirk Peters also turned up and lent the valuable assistance of his great strength. But he did not utter a word to any one. Our occupation continued on the 8th, the 9th, and 10th February, and our task was finished in the afternoon of the 10th. The cargo was safely stowed in the interior of a large grotto, with access to it by a narrow opening. We were to inhabit the adjoining grotto, and Endicott set up his kitchen in the ladder, on the advice of the bow-sun. Thus we should profit by the heat of the stove, which was to cook our food and warm the cavern during the long days, or rather the long nights of the austral winter. During the process of housing and storing, I observed nothing to arouse suspicion in the bearing of hern and the Falklands men. Nevertheless the half-breed was kept on guard at the boat, which might easily have been seized upon the beach. Hurly-girly, who observed his comrades closely, appeared less anxious. On that same evening Captain Len Guy, having reassembled his people, stated that the question should be discussed on the moral, adding that, if it were decided in the affirmative, lots should be drawn immediately. No reply was made. It was late and half-dark outside, for at this date the sun was on the edge of the horizon, and would very soon disappear below it. I had been asleep for some hours, when I was awakened by a great shouting, at a short distance. I sprang up instantly and darted out of the cavern, simultaneously with the Captain and West, who had been suddenly aroused from sleep. The boat, the boat! cried West. The boat was no longer in its place. That place so jealously guarded by Dark Peters. After they had pushed the boat into the sea, three men had got into it with bails and casks, while ten others strove to control the half-breed. Hearn was there, and Martin Holt also. The latter, it seemed to me, was not interfering. Those wretches then, intended to depart before the lots were drawn, they meant to forsake us. They had succeeded in surprising Dark Peters, and they would have killed him, had he not fought hard for his life. In the face of this mutiny, knowing our inferiority of numbers, and not knowing whether he might count on all the old crew, Captain Len Guy re-entered the cavern with West in order to procure arms. Hearn and his accomplices were armed. I was about to follow them, when the following words arrested my steps. The half-breed, overpowered by numbers, had been knocked down, and at this moment Martin Holt, in gratitude to the man who saved his life, was rushing to his aid, but Hearn called out to him. Leave the fellow alone, and come with us. Martin Holt hesitated. Yes, leave him alone, I say. Leave Dirk Peters, the assassin of your brother alone. The assassin of my brother? Your brother killed on board the grampus. Killed? By Dirk Peters? Yes. Killed and eaten, eaten, eaten! And then, at a sign from Hearn, two of his comrades seized Martin Holt and dragged him into the boat. Hearn was instantly followed by all those whom he had induced to join in his criminal deed. At that moment Dirk Peters rose from the ground and sprang upon one of the Falkland men as he was in the act of stepping on the platform of the boat, lifted him up bodily, hurled him round his head and dashed his brains out against a rock. In an instant the half-breed fell, shot in the shoulder by a bullet from Hearn's pistol, and the boat was pushed off. Then Captain Len Guy in west came out of the cavern, the whole scene had passed in less than a minute, and ran down to the point which they reached together with the bow-son, Hardy, Francis and Stern. The boat which was drawn by the current was already some distance off, and the tide was falling rapidly. West shouldered his gun and fired. A sailor dropped into the bottom of the boat, a second shot fired by Len Guy, Grey's turn spressed, and the ball was lost amongst the ice-blocks at the moment when the boat disappeared behind the iceberg. The only thing for us to do was to cross to the other side of the point. The current would carry the wretches thither no doubt, or it bore them northward. If they passed within range, and if a second shot should hit Hearn, either killing or wounding him, his companions might perhaps decide on coming back to us. A quarter of an hour elapsed, when the boat appeared at the other side of the point it was so far off that our bullets could not reach it. Hearn had already had the sail set, and the boat, impelled by wind and current jointly, was soon no more than a white speck on the face of the waters, and speedily disappeared. The question of our wintering on the land, whereon we had been thrown, was settled for us. But, after all, the situation was not changed for those among the nine, now only remaining of the twenty-three, who should not have drawn the lot of departure, who could speculate upon the chances of the whole nine. Might not all of them have drawn the lot of stay? And, when every chance was fully weighed, was that of those who had left us the best? To this question there could be no answer. When the boat had disappeared Captain Len Guy and his companions retraced their steps towards the cavern in which we must live, for all the time during which we could not go out, in the dread darkness of the Antarctic winter. My first thought was of Dirk Peters, who, being wounded, could not follow us when we hurried to the other side of the point. On reaching the cavern I failed to find the half-breed. Was he severely wounded? Should we have to mourn the death of this man, who was as faithful to us, as to his poor pimp? Let us search for him, Mr. Jorling, cried the Boeson. We will go together, said the Captain. Dirk Peters would never have forsaken us, and we will not forsake him. Would he come back? said I. Now that what he thought was known to him and me only has come out. I informed my companions of the reason why the name of Ned Holt had been changed to that of Parker in Arthur Pym's narrative, and of the circumstances under which the half-breed had apprised me of the fact. At the same time I urged every consideration that might exculpate him, dwelling in particular upon the point that if the lot had fallen to Dirk Peters he would have been the victim of the other's hunger. Dirk Peters confided this secret to you only, inquired Captain Langeye. To me only, Captain, and you have kept it. Absolutely. Then I cannot understand how it came to the knowledge of Hearn. At first, I replied, I thought Hearn might have talked in his sleep, and that it was by chance Martin Holt learned the secret. After reflection, however, I recalled to mind that when the half-breed related the scene on the grampus to me he was in my cabin, and the side sash was raised. I have reason to think that the man at the wheel overheard our conversation. Now that man was Hearn, who, in order to hear it more clearly, let go of the wheel so that the half-brain lurched. I remember, said West, I questioned the fellow sharply and sent him down into the hold. Well then, Captain, I resumed, it was from that day that Hearn made up to Martin Holt. Hurly-girly called my attention to the fact. Of course he did, said the bow-son, for Hearn, not being capable of managing the boat which he intended to seize, required a master hand like Holt. And so, I said, he kept on urging Holt to question the half-breed concerning his brother's fate. And you know how Holt came at last to learn the fearful truth. Captain Holt seemed to be stupefied by the revelation. The others dragged him away, and now he is with them. We were all agreed that things had happened as I supposed, and now the question was, did Dirk Peters, in his present state of mind, mean to absent himself? Would he consent to resume his place among us? We all left the cavern, and after an hour's search we came inside of Dirk Peters, whose first impulse was to escape from us. At length, however, Hurly-girly and Francis came up with him. He stood still and made no resistance. I advanced and spoke to him. The others did the same. Captain Lund Guy offered him his hand, which he took after a moment's hesitation. Then, without uttering a single word, he returned towards the beach. From that day no allusion was ever made to the tragic story of the Grampus. Dirk Peters' wound proved to be slight. He merely wrapped a piece of sail-cloth, ran the injured arm, and went off to his work with entire unconcern. We made all the preparations in our power for a prolonged hibernation. Winter was threatening us. For some days passed, the sun hardly showed at all through the mists. The temperature fell to thirty-six degrees and would rise no more, while the solar rays, casting shadows of endless length upon the soil, gave hardly any heat. The captain made us put on warm woolen clothes without waiting for the cold to become more severe. Icebergs, packs, streams, and drifts came in greater numbers from the south. Some of these struck and stayed upon the coast, which was already heaped up with ice, but the greater number disappeared in the direction of the northeast. All these pieces, said the bosun, will go to the closing up of the iceberg wall. If her and his lot of scoundrels are not ahead of them, I imagine they will find the door shut, and as they have no key to open it with. I suppose you think, bosun, that our case is less desperate than theirs? I do think so, Mr. Jorling, and I have always thought so. If everything had been done as it was settled, and the lot had fallen to me to go with the boat, I would have given up my turn to one of the others. After all, there is something in feeling dry ground under our feet. I don't wish the death of anybody but if her and his friends do not succeed in clearing the iceberg barrier, if they are doomed to pass the winter on the ice, reduced for food to a supply that will only last a few weeks, you know the fate that awaits them. Yes, a fate worse than ours. And besides, said the bosun, even supposing they do reach the Antarctic Circle, if the whalers have already left the fishing grounds, it is not a laden and overladen craft that will keep the sea until the Australian coasts are in sight. This was my opinion, and also that of the Captain at West. During the following four days we completed the storage of the whole of our belongings, and made some excursions into the interior of the country, landing all barren, and not a trace that any landing had ever been made there. One day Captain Lengai proposed that we should give a geographical name to the region whither the iceberg had carried us. It was named Halbrain Land, in memory of our schooner, and we called the strait that separated the two parts of the polar continent, the Jane Sound. Then we took to shooting the penguins which swarmed upon the rocks, and to capturing some of the amphibious animals which frequented the beach. We began to feel the want of fresh meat, and endicots cooking rendered zeal and walrus flesh quite palatable. Besides, the fat of these creatures would serve at need to warm the cavern and feed the cooking-stove. Our most formidable enemy would be the cold, and we must fight it by every means within our power. It remained to be seen whether the amphibia would not forsake Halbrain Land at the approach of winter, and seek a less rigorous climate in lower latitudes. Fortunately there were hundreds of other animals to secure our little company from hunger, and even from thirst at need. The beach was the home of numbers of galapagos, a kind of turtle so called from an archipelago in the equinoctial sea. There also they abound, and mentioned by Arthur Pym as applying food to the islanders. It will be remembered that Pym and Peters found three of these galapagos in the native boat which carried them away from Salel Island. The movement of these huge creatures is slow, heavy and waddling. They have thin necks two feet long, triangular snake-like heads, and can go without food for very long periods. Arthur Pym had compared the Antarctic turtles to dramataries, because, like those ruminants, they have a pouch just where the neck begins, which contains from two to three gallons of cold fresh water. He relates, before the scene of the lot-drawing, that but for one of these turtles the shipwreck crew of the Grampus must have died of hunger and thirst. If Pym is to be lived some of the great turtles away from twelve to fifteen hundred pounds, those of how Brainland did not go beyond seven or eight hundred pounds, but their flesh was none the less savoury. On the nineteenth of February an incident occurred, an incident which those who acknowledged the intervention of Providence in human affairs will recognize as providential. It was eight o'clock in the morning, the weather was calm, the sky was tolerably clear, the thermometer stood at thirty two degrees Fahrenheit. We were assembled in the cavern, with the exception of the bow-sun, waiting for our breakfast which Endicott was preparing, and were about to take our places at table, when we heard a call from outside. The voice was hurly-girly, and we hurried out, on seeing as he cried, Come, come quickly! He was standing on a rock at the foot of the hillock above the beach in which how Brainland ended beyond the point, and his right hand was stretched out towards the sea. What is it? asked Captain Langeye. A boat. Is the how Brain's boat coming back? No, Captain, it is not. Then we perceived a boat, not to be mistaken for that of our schooner in form or dimensions. Nothing without oars or paddle, seemingly abandoned to the current. We had but one idea in common, to seize at any cost upon this derelict craft which would perhaps prove our salvation. But how were we to reach it? How were we to get it, to the point of how Brainland? While we were looking distractedly at the boat and at each other, there came a sudden splash at the end of the hillock, as though a body had fallen into the sea. It was Dirk Peters, who, having flung off his clothes, had sprung from the top of a rock, and was swimming rapidly towards the boat before we made him out. We cheered him heartily. I never beheld anything like that swimming. He bounded through the waves like a porpoise, and indeed he possessed the strength and swiftness of one. What might not be expected of such a man? In a few minutes the Halfbreed had swum several cables' lengths towards the boat in an oblique direction. We could only see his head, like a black speck on the surface of the rolling waves. A period of suspense, of intense watching of the brave swimmer, succeeded. Surely, surely he would reach the boat. But must he not be carried away with it? Was it to be believed that even his great strength would enable him, swimming to tow it to the beach? After all, why should there not be oars in the boat? said the boat-son. He has it! He has it! Hurrah! Dirk hurrah! shouted hurly-girly, and Endicott echoed his exultant cheer. The Halfbreed had, in fact, reached the boat, and raised himself alongside, half out of the water. His big strong hand grasped the side, and at the risk of causing the boat to capsize, he hoisted himself up to the side, stepped over it, and sat down to draw his breath. Almost instantly a shout reached our ears. It was uttered by Dirk Peter's. What had he found? Paddles, it must be so, for we saw him seat himself in the front of the boat, and paddle with all his strength, in striving to get out of the current. Come along, said the captain, and, turning the base of the hillock, we all ran along the edge of the beach, between the blackish stones that bestrew it. After some time, West stopped us. The boat had reached the shelter of a small projection at that place, and it was evident that it would be run ashore there. When it was within five or six cables' length, the eddy was helping it on. Dirk Peter's let go of the paddles, stooped forwards the after-part of the boat, and then raised himself, holding up an inert body. An agonized cry from Captain Langeye, rent the air. My brother, my brother! He is living, he is living! shuddered Dirk Peter's. A moment later the boat had touched the beach, and Captain Langeye held his brother in his arms. Three of William Guy's companions lay apparently