The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras

CHAPTER XI

THE DEVIL'S THUMB

During the commander's absence the men had been variously busied in attempts to relieve the ship from the pressure of the ice. Pen, Clifton, Bolton, Gripper, and Simpson had this in charge; the fireman and the two engineers came to the aid of their comrades, for, as soon as the engines did not require their attention, they became sailors, and as such could be employed in all that was going on aboard the ship.

But there was a great deal of discontent among them.

"I declare I've had enough," said Pen; "and if we are not free in three days, I swear I sha'n't stir a finger to get the ship out."

"Not stir a finger!" answered Plover; "you'd better use them in getting back. Do you think we want to stay here till next year?"

"It certainly would be a hard winter," said Pen, "for we are exposed on all sides."

"And who knows," said Brunton, "whether next spring the sea will be any freer than it is now?"

"Never mind about next spring," answered Pen; "to-day is Thursday; if the way is not clear Sunday morning, we shall turn back to the south."

"Good!" cried Clifton.

"Don't you agree with me?" asked Pen.

"We do," cried his companions.

"That's so," said Warren; "for if we have to work in this way and haul the ship along with our own arms, I think it would be as well to haul her backwards."

"We shall do that on Sunday," said Wolston.

"Only give me the order," resumed Brunton, "and my fires shall be lighted."

"Well," remarked Clifton, "we shall light them ourselves."

"If any officer," said Pen, "is anxious to spend the winter here, he can; we can leave him here contentedly; he'll find it easy to build a hut like the Esquimaux."

"Not at all, Pen," retorted Brunton, quickly; "we sha'n't abandon any one here; do you understand that, all of you? I think it won't be hard to persuade the commander; he seems to me to be very much discouraged, and if we propose it to him gently – "

"But," interrupted Plover, "Richard Shandon is often very obstinate; we shall have to sound him cautiously."

"When I think," said Bolton, with a sigh of longing, "that in a month we might be back in Liverpool! We can easily pass the line of ice at the south! Davis Strait will be open by the beginning of June, and then we shall have nothing but the free Atlantic before us."

"Besides," said the cautious Clifton, "if we take the commander back with us, and act under his commands, we shall have earned our pay; but if we go back without him, it's not so sure."

"True," said Plover; "Clifton talks sense. Let's try not to get into any trouble with the Admiralty, that's safer, and don't let us leave any one behind."

"But if they refuse to come with us?" continued Pen, who wished to compel his companions to stand by him.

They found it hard to answer the question thus squarely put them.

"We shall see about that when the time comes," replied Bolton; "it will be enough to bring Richard Shandon over to our side, and I fancy that won't be hard."

"There's one I shall leave here," exclaimed Pen with fierce oaths, "even if he should bite my arm off."

"O, the dog!" said Plover.

"Yes, that dog! I shall soon settle accounts with him."

"So much the better," retorted Clifton, returning to his favorite theory; "he is the cause of all our troubles."

"He has thrown an evil spell upon us," said Plover.

"He led us into the ice," remarked Gripper.

"He brought more ice in our way," said Wolston, "than was ever seen at this season."

"He made my eyes sore," said Brunton.

"He shut off the gin and brandy," cried Pen.

"He's the cause of everything," they all exclaimed excitedly.

"And then," added Clifton, "he's the captain."

"Well, you unlucky Captain," cried Pen, whose unreasonable fury grew with the sound of his own words, "you wanted to come here, and here you shall stay!"

"But how shall we get hold of him?" said Plover.

"Well, now is a good time," answered Clifton. "The commander is away; the second mate is asleep in his cabin; the fog is so thick that Johnson can't see us – "

"But the dog?" said Pen.

"He's asleep in the coal," answered Clifton, "and if any one wants – "

"I'll see to it," replied Pen, angrily.

"Take care, Pen; his teeth would go through a bar of iron."

"If he stirs, I'll rip him open," answered Pen, drawing his knife.

And he ran down between decks, followed by Warren, who was anxious to help him.

Soon they both returned, carrying the dog in their arms; his mouth and paws were securely tied; they had caught him asleep, and the poor dog could not escape them.

"Hurrah for Pen!" cried Plover.

"And what are you going to do with him now?" asked Clifton.

"Drown him, and if he ever comes back – " answered Pen with a smile of satisfaction.

Two hundred feet from the vessel there was a hole in the ice, a sort of circular crevasse, made by the seals with their teeth, and always dug out from the inside to the outside; it was there that the seals used to come to breathe on the surface of the ice; but they were compelled to take care to prevent the aperture from closing, for the shape of their jaws did not permit them to make the hole from the outside, and in any danger they would not be able to escape from their enemies.

Pen and Warren hastened to this crevasse, and then, in spite of his obstinate struggles, the dog was pitilessly cast into the sea; a huge cake of ice they then rolled over the aperture, closing all means of escape for the poor dog, thus locked in a watery prison.

"A pleasant journey, Captain!" cried the brutal sailor.

Soon they returned on board; Johnson had seen nothing of it all; the fog was growing thick about the ship, and the snow was beginning to fall with violence.

An hour later, Richard Shandon, the doctor, and Garry regained the Forward.

Shandon had observed in the northeast a passage, which he determined to try. He gave his orders to that effect; the crew obeyed with a certain activity; they wanted to convince Shandon of the impossibility of a farther advance, and besides, they had before them three days of obedience.

During a part of the following night and day the sawing and towing went on busily; the Forward made about two miles of progress. On the 18th they were in sight of land, five or six cable-lengths from a strange peak, to which its singular shape had given the name of the Devil's Thumb.

At this very place the Prince Albert, in 1851, the Advance, with Kane, in 1853, had been caught in the ice for many weeks.

The odd shape of the Devil's Thumb, the barren and desolate surroundings, which consisted of huge icebergs often more than three hundred feet high, the cracking of the ice, repeated indefinitely by the echo, made the position of the Forward a very gloomy one. Shandon saw that it was necessary to get away from there; within twenty-four hours, he calculated he would be able to get two miles from the spot. But that was not enough. Shandon felt himself embarrassed by fear, and the false position in which he was placed benumbed his energy; to obey his instructions in order to advance, he had brought his ship into a dangerous position; the towing wore out his men; more than three hours were necessary to cut a canal twenty feet in length through ice which was generally four or five feet thick; the health of the crew gave signs of failing. Shandon was astonished at the silence of the men, and their unaccustomed obedience; but he feared it was only the calm that foreboded a storm.

We can, then, easily judge of the painful surprise, disappointment, and even despair which seized upon him, when he noticed that by means of an imperceptible movement in the ice, the Forward lost in the night of the 18th all that had been gained by such toilsome efforts; on Saturday morning he was opposite the Devil's Thumb, in a still more critical position; the icebergs increased in number and passed by in the mist like phantoms.

Shandon was thoroughly demoralized; it must be said that fear seized both this bold man and all his crew. Shandon had heard of the disappearance of the dog; but he did not dare to punish the guilty persons; he feared exciting a mutiny.

The weather during that day was horrible; the snow, caught up in dense whirls, covered the brig with an impenetrable veil; at times, under the influence of the hurricane, the fog would rise, and their terror-stricken eyes beheld the Devil's Thumb rising on the shore like a spectre.

The Forward was anchored to a large piece of ice; there was nothing to be done, nothing to be tried; darkness was spreading about them, and the man at the helm could not see James Wall, who was on watch forward.

Shandon withdrew to his cabin, a prey to perpetual disquiet; the doctor was arranging his notes of the expedition; some of the crew were on the deck, others in the common room.

At a moment when the violence of the storm was redoubling, the Devil's Thumb seemed to rise immoderately from the mist.

"Great God!" exclaimed Simpson, recoiling with terror.

"What's the matter?" asked Foker.

Soon shouts were heard on all sides.

"It's going to crush us!"

"We are lost!"

"Mr. Wall, Mr. Wall!"

"It's all over!"

"Commander, Commander!"

All these cries were uttered by the men on watch.

Wall hastened to the after-deck; Shandon, followed by the doctor, flew to the deck and looked out.

Through a rift in the mist, the Devil's Thumb appeared to have suddenly come near the brig; it seemed to have grown enormously in size; on its summit was balanced a second cone, upside down, and revolving on its point; it threatened to crush the ship with its enormous mass; it wavered, ready to fall down. It was an alarming sight. Every one drew back instinctively, and many of the men, jumping upon the ice, abandoned the ship.

"Let no one move!" cried the commander with a loud voice; "every one to his place!"

"My friends, don't be frightened," said the doctor, "there is no danger! See, Commander, see, Mr. Wall, that's the mirage and nothing else."

"You are right, Dr. Clawbonny," replied Johnson; "they've all been frightened by a shadow."

When they had heard what the doctor said, most of the sailors drew near him, and from terror they turned to admiration of this wonderful phenomenon, which soon passed from their view.

"They call that a mirage," said Clifton; "the Devil's at the bottom of it, I'm sure."

"That's true," growled Gripper.

But the break in the fog had given the commander a glimpse of a broad passage which he had not expected to find; it promised to lead him away from the shore; he resolved to make use of it at once; men were sent out on each side of the canal; hawsers were given them, and they began to tow the ship northward.

During long hours this work was prosecuted busily but silently; Shandon had the furnace-fires lighted to help him through this passage so providentially discovered.

"That's great luck," he said to Johnson, "and if we can only get on a few miles, we may be free. Make a hot fire, Mr. Brunton, and let me know as soon as you get steam on. Meanwhile, men, the farther on we get, the more gained! You want to get away from the Devil's Thumb; well, now is your chance!"

Suddenly the brig stopped. "What's the matter?" shouted Shandon. "Wall, have the tow-ropes broken?"

"No," answered Wall, leaning over the railing. "See, there are the men running back; they are climbing on board; they seem very much frightened."

"What's happened?" cried Shandon, running forward.

"On board, on board!" cried the sailors, evidently exceedingly terrified.

Shandon looked towards the north, and shuddered in spite of himself.

A strange animal, with alarming motions, whose steaming tongue hung from huge jaws, was bounding along within a cable's length from the ship; it seemed more than twenty feet high; its hair stood on end; it was chasing the sailors as if about to seize them, while its tail, which was at least ten feet long, lashed the snow and tossed it about in dense gusts. The sight of the monster froze the blood in the veins of the boldest.

"It's an enormous bear," said one.

"It's the beast of Gévaudan!"

"It's the lion of the Apocalypse!"

Shandon ran to his cabin to get a gun which he kept always loaded; the doctor seized his arms, and made ready to fire at the beast, which by its size, recalled antediluvian monsters.

It drew near with long leaps; Shandon and the doctor fired at the same time, and suddenly the report of the pieces agitated the air and produced an unlooked-for effect.

The doctor gazed attentively, and could not help bursting out laughing. "It's refraction!" said he.

"Refraction!" cried Shandon.

But a terrible cry from the crew interrupted them.

"The dog!" shouted Clifton.

"The dog-captain!" repeated his companions.

"It's he!" cried Pen.

In fact, it was the dog who had burst his bonds and had made his way to the surface of the ice through another hole. At that moment the refraction, by a phenomenon common in these latitudes, exaggerated his size, and this had only been broken by the report of the guns; but, notwithstanding, a disastrous impression had been produced upon the minds of the sailors, who were not very much inclined to admit any explanation of the fact from physical causes. The adventure of the Devil's Thumb, the reappearance of the dog under such peculiar circumstances, completely upset them, and murmurs arose on all sides.

CHAPTER XII

CAPTAIN HATTERAS

The Forward was advancing rapidly under steam between the ice-fields and the mountains of ice. Johnson was at the helm. Shandon was examining the horizon with his snow-spectacles; but his joy was brief, for he soon saw that the passage was blocked up by a circle of mountains.

Nevertheless, he preferred to take his chances with pushing on, to returning.

The dog followed the brig on the ice, but he kept at a respectful distance. Only, if he lagged too far, there was to be heard a singular whistle which at once brought him on.

The first time that this whistle was heard, the sailors looked around; they were alone on the deck, talking together; there was no unknown person there; and yet this whistle was often repeated.

Clifton was the first to take alarm.

"Do you hear that?" he said; "and do you see how the dog starts as soon as he hears it?"

"It's past belief," said Gripper.

"Very well!" cried Pen; "I'm not going any farther."

"Pen is right," said Brunton; "it's tempting Providence."

"Tempting the Devil," answered Clifton. "I should rather give up all my share of the pay than go on."

"We shall never get back," said Bolton, dejectedly.

The crew was exceedingly demoralized.

"Not a foot farther!" cried Wolston; "is that your opinion?"

"Yes, yes!" answered the sailors.

"Well," said Bolton, "let's go find the commander; I'll undertake to tell him."

The sailors in a dense group made their way to the quarter-deck.

The Forward was then advancing into a large arena, which had a diameter of about eight hundred feet; it was completely closed, with the exception of one place through which the ship entered.

Shandon saw that he was locking himself in. But what was to be done? How could he retreat? He felt all the responsibility, and his hand nervously grasped his glass.

The doctor looked on in silence, with folded arms; he gazed at the walls of ice, the average height of which was about three hundred feet. A cloud of fog lay like a dome above the gulf.

Then it was that Bolton spoke to the commander.

"Commander," said he in a broken voice, "we can't go any farther."

"What's that you are saying?" said Shandon, who felt enraged at the slight given to his authority.

"We have come to say, Commander," resumed Bolton, "that we have done enough for this invisible captain, and that we have made up our minds not to go on any farther."

"Made up your minds?" cried Shandon. "Is that the way you talk to me, Bolton? Take care."

"You need not threaten," retorted Pen, brutally, "we are not going any farther."

Shandon stepped towards the mutinous sailors, when the boatswain said to him in a low voice, —

"Commander, if we want to get out of this place, we have not a moment to lose. There's an iceberg crowding towards the entrance; it may prevent our getting out and imprison us here."

Shandon returned to look at the state of affairs.

"You will account for this afterwards," he said to the mutineers. "Now, go about!"

The sailors hastened to their places. The Forward went about rapidly; coal was heaped on the fires; it was necessary to beat the iceberg. There was a race between them; the brig stood towards the south, the berg was drifting northward, threatening to bar the way.

"Put on all the steam, Brunton, do you hear?" said Shandon.

The Forward glided like a bird through the broken ice, which her prow cut through easily; the ship shook with the motion of the screw, and the gauge indicated a full pressure of steam, the deafening roar of which resounded above everything.

"Load the safety-valve!" cried Shandon.

The engineer obeyed at the risk of bursting the boilers.

But these desperate efforts were vain; the iceberg, driven by a submarine current, moved rapidly towards the exit; the brig was still three cable-lengths distant, when the mountain, entering the vacant space like a wedge, joined itself to its companions, and closed the means of escape.

"We are lost!" cried Shandon, who was unable to restrain that unwise speech.

"Lost!" repeated the crew.

"Lower the boats!" cried many.

"To the steward's pantry!" cried Pen and some of his set; "if we must drown, let us drown in gin!"

The wildest confusion raged among these half-wild men. Shandon felt unable to assert his authority; he wanted to give some orders; he hesitated, he stammered; his thoughts could find no words. The doctor walked up and down nervously. Johnson folded his arms stoically, and said not a word.

Suddenly a strong, energetic, commanding voice was heard above the din, uttering these words: —

"Every man to his place! Prepare to go about!"

Johnson shuddered, and, without knowing what he did, turned the wheel rapidly.

It was time; the brig, going under full steam, was about crashing against the walls of its prison.

But while Johnson instinctively obeyed, Shandon, Clawbonny, the crew, all, even down to Warren the fireman, who had abandoned his fires, and Strong the cook, who had fled from his galley, were collected on the deck, and all saw issuing from the cabin, the key of which he alone possessed, a man.

This man was the sailor Garry.

"Sir!" cried Shandon, turning pale, "Garry – by what right do you give orders here?"

"Duke!" said Garry, repeating the whistle which had so surprised the crew.

The dog, on hearing his real name, sprang on the quarter-deck, and lay down quietly at his master's feet.

The crew did not utter a word. The key which the captain alone should possess, the dog which he had sent and which had identified him, so to speak, the tone of command which it was impossible to mistake, – all this had a strong influence on the minds of the sailors, and was enough to establish firmly Garry's authority.

Besides, Garry was hardly to be recognized; he had removed the thick whiskers which had surrounded his face, thereby giving it a more impassible, energetic, and commanding expression; he stood before them clothed in a captain's uniform, which he had had placed in his cabin.

So the crew of the Forward, animated in spite of themselves, shouted, —

"Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for the captain!"

"Shandon," he said to his first officer, "have the crew put in line; I want to inspect them."

Shandon obeyed, and gave the requisite orders with an agitated voice.

The captain walked in front of the officers and men, saying a word to each, and treating him according to his past conduct.

When he had finished his inspection, he went back to the quarter-deck, and calmly uttered these words: —

"Officers and sailors, I am an Englishman like you all, and my motto is that of Lord Nelson, – 'England expects every man to do his duty.'

"As Englishmen, I am unwilling, we are unwilling, that others should go where we have not been. As Englishmen, I shall not endure, we shall not endure, that others should have the glory of going farther north than we. If human foot is ever to reach the Pole, it must be the foot of an Englishman! Here is the flag of our country. I have equipped this ship, I have devoted my fortune to this undertaking, I shall devote to it my life and yours, but this flag shall float over the North Pole. Fear not. You shall receive a thousand pounds sterling for every degree that we get farther north after this day. Now we are at the seventy-second,14 and there are ninety in all. Figure it out. My name will be proof enough. It means energy and patriotism. I am Captain Hatteras."

"Captain Hatteras!" cried Shandon. And this name, familiar to them all, soon spread among all the crew.

"Now," resumed Hatteras, "let us anchor the brig to the ice; let the fires be put out, and every one return to his usual occupation. Shandon, I want to speak with you about the ship. You will join me in my cabin with the doctor, Wall, and the boatswain. Johnson, dismiss the men."

Hatteras, calm and cold, quietly left the poop-deck, while Shandon had the brig made fast to the ice.

Who was this Hatteras, and why did his name make so deep an impression upon the crew?

John Hatteras, the only son of a London brewer, who died in 1852, worth six million pounds, took to the sea at an early age, unmindful of the large fortune which was to come to him. Not that he had any commercial designs, but a longing for geographical discovery possessed him; he was continually dreaming of setting foot on some spot untrodden of man.