An Antarctic Mystery (26 page)

Prostration 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
Halbrane
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 Gratian, 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
Halbrane
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
Halbrane
as she rebounded off the side of the
iceberg!

Everything would have been over then, as all was over with Rogers
and Gratian! This foolish expedition would thus have come to a
conclusion worthy of such rashness and imprudence!

At last, the instinct of self-preservation triumphed, and except
Hearne, who stood some distance off and affected 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 crag where our 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 boatswain. 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!

"Hallo, sailors!" cried the captain.

"Hallo!" repeated West, "stop there, or we fire on the first
who goes a step farther!"

Both threatened the men with their pistols. The boatswain 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 new-comers?

At that moment I remarked that Hardy, Martin Holt, Francis Bury, and
Stern hesitated about coming over to our side, while Hearne, 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 deaf to threats, when a second report was
heard, and one of the sailors fell, by a bullet from the
boatswain's gun.

One American and one Fuegian less to be numbered amongst the
sealing-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
Hearne seized him.

Owing to the half-breed's intervention the revolt was instantly
queued. Besides, we were coming up to the boat, and with us those of
our men whose hesitation bad not lasted long.

No matter. The others were still thirteen to our ten. Captain Len
Guy 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
Halbrane
, is now the
Halbrane
herself! I am
the captain of it, and let him who disobeys me, beware?"

With these last words Captain Len Guy looked at Hearne, for whom
this warning was expressly meant. The sealing-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.

"Now 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 betake
himself to his post.

The crew returned to the camp without the least hesitation. Some lay
down in their sleeping-places, others wandered about. Hearne neither
tried to join them nor to go near Martin 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, and the boatswain formed a council, and I
took part in their deliberations. Captain Len Guy began by saying,—

"We have protected our boat, and we shall continue to protect
it."

"Until death," declared 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 boatswain.
"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
behoves us to do is, while watching the boat, to keep an eye on the
provisions."

"We are lucky," added Hurllguerly, "to have put our cargo in
safety. Poor, dear
Halbrane
. She will remain in these seas, like the
fane, her elder sister!"

Yes, without doubt, and I thought so for many reasons, the one
destroyed by the savages of Tsalal, 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 the more 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.
Jeorling," said the boatswain. "We could hollow out
sheltering-places in the ice, so as to be able to bear the extreme
cold of the pole, 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 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 Len Guy and West to this point.

This was a difficult question to answer, and a long 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 the 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 accomplish what it would have
done?"

The captain, shaking his head, answered nothing. West also was
silent.

"Eh! our iceberg will end by raising its anchor," replied
Hurliguerly. "It does not hold to the bottom, like the Falklands
or the Kerguelens! 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
reconnoitre further south for twelve or fifteen miles.

"South?" repeated Captain Len Guy.

"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 better not to insist just at present.

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 Hurliguerly 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 boatswain was right. But in my own mind, when I asked
that the boat might be utilized, it was only for the purpose of
reconnoitring 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 will be agreed to by our men," declared
Hurliguerly.

"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 this 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, Hurliguerly, if I do not make up dishes just as good as
on board the
Halbrane
, so long as provisions don't grow scarce, of
course—"

"Well! they will not be wanting for some time to come," replied
the boatswain. "We need not fear hunger, but cold, such cold as
would reduce you to an icicle the minute ycu cease to warm your
feetwcold 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 will do to boil this large
kettle."

"And that is sacred," cried Endicott; "touching is 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, boatswain? You are a first-rate cook, or you
are 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 boatswain! On the whole, it
is better not to have to 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.