An Antarctic Mystery (22 page)

The crew, gathered together on the forecastle, were looking on
without revealing their impressions. West, after going aloft to the
fore-cross-trees, where he had remained ten minutes, had reported
nothing precise. Stationed at the port side, leaning my elbows on
the bulwarks, I closely watched the sky line, broken only towards
the east.

At this moment the boatswain rejoined me, and without preface said:

"Will you allow me to give you my opinion, Mr. Jeorling?"

"Give it, boatswain," I replied, "at the risk of my not
adopting it if I don't agree with it."

"It is correct, and according as we get nearer one must really be
blind not to adopt it!"

"And what idea have you got?"

"That it is not land which lies before us, Mr. Jeorling!"

"What is it you are saying?"

"Look attentively, putting one finger before your eyes—look
there—out a—starboard."

I did as Hurliguerly directed.

"Do you see?" he began again. "May I lose my liking for my
grog if these heights do not change place, not with regard to the
schooner, but with regard to themselves!"

"And what do you conclude from this?"

"That they are moving icebergs."

"Icebergs?"

"Sure enough, Mr. Jeorling."

Was not the boatswain mistaken? Were we in for a disappointment?
Were there only drifting ice-mountains in the distance instead of a
shore?

Presently, there was no doubt on the subject; for some time past the
crew had no longer believed existence of land in that direction.

Ten minutes afterwards, the man in the crow's-nest announced that
several icebergs were coming north-west, in an oblique direction,
into the course of the
Halbrane
.

This news produced a great sensation on board. Our last hope was
suddenly extinguished. And what a blow to Captain Len Guy! We should
have to seek land of the austral zone under higher latitudes without
being sure of ever coming across it!

And then the cry, "Back ship! back ship!" sounded almost
unanimously on board the
Halbrane
.

Yes, indeed, the recruits from the Falklands demanding that we
should turn back, although Hearne was not there to fan the flame of
insubordination, and I must acknowledge that the greater part of the
old tars seemed to agree with them.

West awaited his chief's orders, not daring to impose silence.

Gratian was at the helm, ready to give a turn to wheel, whilst his
comrades with their hands on the cleats were preparing to ease off
the sheets.

Dirk Peters remained immovable, leaning against the fore-mast, his
head down, his body bent, and his mouth set firm. Not a word passed
his lips.

But now he turned towards me, and what a look of mingled wrath and
entreaty he gave me!

I don't know what irresistible motive induced me to interfere
personally, and once again to protest! A final argument had just
crossed my mind—an argument whose weight could not be disputed.

So I began to speak, and I did so with such conviction that none
tried to interrupt me.

The substance of what I said was as follows:—

"No! all hope must not be abandoned. Land cannot be far off. The
icebergs which are formed in the open sea by the accumulation of ice
are not before us. These icebergs must have broken off from the
solid base of a continent or an island. Now, since the thaw begins
at this season of the year, the drift will last for only a short
time. Behind them we must meet the coast on which they were formed.
In another twenty-four hours, or forty-eight at the most, if the
land does not appear, Captain Len Guy will steer to the north again!"

Had I convinced the crew, or ought I to take advantage of Hearne's
absence and of the fact that he could not communicate with them to
make them understand that they were being deccived, and to repeat to
them that it would endanger the schooner if our course were now to
be reversed.

The boatswain came to my help, and in a good-humoured voice
exclaimed,—

"Very well reasoned, and for my part I accept Mr. Jeorling's
opinion. Assuredly, land is near! If we seek it beyond those
icebergs, we shall discover it without much hard work, or great
danger! What is one degree farther south, when it is a question of
putting a hundred additional dollars into one's pocket? And let us
not forget that if they are acceptable when they go in, they are
none the less so when they come out!"

Upon this, Endicott, the cook, came to the aid of his friend the
boatswain.

"Yes, very good things indeed are dollars!" cried he, showing
two rows of shining white teeth.

Did the crew intend to yield to Hurliguerly's argument, or would
they try to resist if the
Halbrane
went on in the direction of the
icebergs?

Captain Len Guy took up his telescope again, and turned it upon
these moving masses; he observed them with much attention, and cried
out in a loud voice,—

"Steer south-sou'-west!"

West gave orders to execute the manoeuvres. The sailors hesitated an
instant. Then, recalled to obedience, they began to brace the yards
and slack the sheets, and the schooner increased her speed.

When the operation was over, I went up to Hurliguerly, and drawing
him aside, I said,—

"Thank you, boatswain."

"Ah, Mr. Jeorling," he replied, shaking his head, "it is all
very fine for this time, but you must not do it again! Everyone
would turn against me, even Endicott, perhaps."

"I have urged nothing which is not at least probable," I
answered sharply.

"I don't deny that fact, Mr. Jeorling."

"Yes, Hurliguerly, yes—I believe what I have said, and I have no
doubt but that we shall really see the land beyond the icebergs."

"Just possible, Mr. Jeoding, quite possible. But it must appear
before two days, or, on the word of a boatswain, nothing can prevent
us from putting about!"

During the next twenty-four hours the
Halbrane
took a
south-south-westerlycourse. Nevertheless, her direction must have
been frequently changed and her speed decreased in avoiding the ice.
The navigation became very difficult so soon as the schooner headed
towards the line of the bergs, which it had to cut obliquely.
However, there were none of the packs which blocked up all access to
the iceberg on the 67th parallel. The enormous heaps were melting
away with majestic slowness. The ice-blocks appeared "quite new"
(to employ a perfectly accurate expression), and perhaps they had
only been formed some days. However, with a height of one hundred
and fifty feet, their bulk must have been calculated by millions of
tons. West was watching closely in order to avoid collisions, and
did not leave the deck even for an instant.

Until now, Captain Len Guy had always been able to rely upon the
indications of the compass. The magnetic pole, still hundreds of
miles off, had no influence on the compass, its direction bcing
east. The needle remained steady, and might be trusted.

So, in spite of my conviction, founded, however, on very serious
arguments, there was no sign of land, and I was wondering whether it
would not be better to steer more to the west, at the risk of
removing the
Halbrane
from that extreme point where the meridians of
the globe cross each other.

Thus, as the hours went by—and I was only allowed forty-eight—it
was only too plain that lack of courage prevailed, and that everyone
was inclined to be insubordinate.

After another day and a half, I could no longer contend with the
general discontent. The schooner must ultimately retrace her course
towards the north.

The crew were working in silence, whilst West was giving sharp short
orders for manoeuvring through the channels, sometimes luffing in
order to avoid a collision, now bearing away almost square before
the wind. Nevertheless, in spite of a close watch, in spite of the
skill of the sailors, in spite of the prompt execution of the
manoeuvres, dangerous friction against the hull, which left long
traces of the ridge of the icebergs, occurred. And, in truth, the
bravest could not repress a feeling of terror when thinking that the
planking might have given way and the sea have invaded us.

The base of these floating ice-mountains was very steep, so that it
would have been impossible for us to land upon one. Moreover, we saw
no seals—these were usually very numerous where the ice-fields
abounded—nor even a flock of the screeching penguins which, on
other occasions, the
Halbrane
sent diving by myriads as she passed
through them; the birds themselves seemed rarer and wilder. Dread,
from which none of us could escape, seemed to come upon us from
these desolate and deserted regions. How could we still entertain a
hope that the survivors of the
Jane
had found shelter, and obtained
means of existence in those awful solitudes?

And if the Halbrahe were also shipwrecked, would there remain any
evidence of her fate?

Since the previous day, from the moment our southern course had been
abandoned, to cut the line of the icebergs, a change had taken place
in the demeanour of the half-breed. Nearly always crouched down at
the foot of the fore-mast, looking afar into the boundless space, he
only got up in order to lend a hand to some manoeuvre, and without
any of his former vigilance or zeal. Not that he had ceased to
believe that his comrade of the
Jane
was still living—that thought
never even came into his mind! But he felt by instinct that the
traces of poor Pym were not to be recovered by following this course.

"Sir," he would have said to me, "this is not the way! No,
this is not the way!" And how could I have answered him?

Towards seven o'clock in the evening a rather thick mist arose;
this would tend to make the navigation of the schooner difficult and
dangerous.

The day, with its emotions of anxiety and alternatives, had worn me
out. So I returned to my cabin, where I threw myself on my bunk in
my clothes.

But sleep did not come to me, owing to my besetting thoughts. I
willingly admit that the constant reading of Edgar Poe's works,
and reading them in this place in which his heroes delighted, had
exercised an influence on me which I did not fully recognize.

To-morrow, the forty-eight hours would be up, the last concession
which the crew had made to my entreaties.

"Things are not going as you wish?" the boatswain said to me
just as I was leaving the deck.

No, certainly not, since land was not to be seen behind the fleet of
icebergs. If no sign of a coast appeared between these moving
masses, Captain Len Guy would steer north to-morrow.

Ah! were I only master of the schooner! If I could have bought it
even at the price of all my fortune, if these men had been my slaves
to drive by the lash, the
Halbrane
should never have given up this
voyage, even if it led her so far as the point above which flames
the Southern Cross.

My mind was quite upset, and teemed with a thousand thoughts, a
thousand regrets, a thousand desires! I wanted to get up, but a
heavy hand held me down in my bunk! And I longed to leave this cabin
where I was struggling against nightmare in my half-sleep, to launch
one of the boats of the
Halbrane
, to jump into it with Dirk Peters,
who would not hesitate about following me, and so abandon both of us
to the current running south.

And lo! I was doing this in a dream. It is to-morrow! Captain Len
Guy has given orders to reverse our course, after a last glance at
the horizon. One of the boats is in tow. I warn the half-breed. We
creep along without being seen. We cut the painter. Whilst the
schooner sails on ahead, we stay astern and the current carries us
off.

Thus we drift on the sea without hindrance! At length our boat
stops. Land is there. I see a sort of sphinx surmounting the
southern peak—the sea-sphinx. I go to him. I question him. He
discloses the secrets of these mysterious regions to me. And then,
the phenomena whose reality Arthur Pym asserted appear around the
mythic monster. The curtain of flickering vapours, striped with
luminous rays, is rent asunder. And it is not a face of superhuman
grandeur which arises before my astonished eyes: it is Arthur Pym,
fierce guardian of the south pole, flaunting the ensign of the
United States in those high latitudes!

Was this dream suddenly interrupted, or was it changed by a freak of
my brain? I cannot tell, but I felt as though I had been suddenly
awakened. It seemed as though a change had taken place in the motion
of the schooner, which was sliding along on the surface of the quiet
sea, with a slight list to starboard. And yet, there was neither
rolling nor pitching. Yes, I felt myself carried off as though my
bunk were the car of an air-balloon. I was not mistaken, and I had
fallen from dreamland into reality.

Crash succeeded crash overhead. I could not account for them. Inside
my cabin the partitions deviated from the vertical in such a way as
to make one believe that the
Halbrane
had fallen over on her beam
ends. Almost immediately, I was thrown out of my bunk and barely
escaped splitting my skull against the corner of the table. However,
I got up again, and, clinging on to the edge of the door frame, I
propped myself against the door.

At this instant the bulwarks began to crack and the port side of the
ship was torn open.

Could there have been a collision between the schooner and one of
those gigantic floating masses which West was unable to avoid in the
mist?

Suddenly loud shouts came from the after-deck, and then screams of
terror, in which the maddened voices of the crew joined.

At length there came a final crash, and the
Halbrane
remained
motionless.

I had to crawl along the floor to reach the door and gain the deck.
Captain Len Guy having already left his cabin, dragged himself on
his knees, so great was the list to port, and caught on as best he
could.