by Jules Verne
CHAPTER VIII
GOSSIP OF THE CREW
However, the _Forward_ managed, by cunningly slipping into narrowpassages, to gain a few more minutes north; but instead of avoidingthe enemy, it was soon necessary to attack it. The ice-fields, severalmiles in extent, were getting nearer, and as these moving heaps oftenrepresent a pressure of more than ten millions of tons, it wasnecessary to give a wide berth to their embraces. The ice-saws wereat once installed in the interior of the vessel, in such a manneras to facilitate immediate use of them. Part of the crewphilosophically accepted their hard work, but the other complainedof it, if it did not refuse to obey. At the same time that they assistedin the installation of the instruments, Garry, Bolton, Pen and Gripperexchanged their opinions.
"By Jingo!" said Bolton gaily, "I don't know why the thought strikesme that there's a very jolly tavern in Water-street where it'scomfortable to be between a glass of gin and a bottle of porter. Can'tyou imagine it, Gripper?"
"To tell you the truth," quickly answered the questioned sailor, whogenerally professed to be in a bad temper, "I don't imagine it here."
"It's for the sake of talking, Gripper; it's evident that the snowtowns Dr. Clawbonny admires so don't contain the least public wherea poor sailor can get a half-pint of brandy."
"That's sure enough, Bolton; and you may as well add that there'snothing worth drinking here. It's a nice idea to deprive men of theirgrog when they are in the Northern Seas."
"But you know," said Garry, "that the doctor told us it was to preventus getting the scurvy. It's the only way to make us go far."
"But I don't want to go far, Garry; it's pretty well to have comethis far without trying to go where the devil is determined we shan't."
"Well, we shan't go, that's all," replied Pen. "I declare I've almostforgotten the taste of gin."
"But remember what the doctor says," replied Bolton.
"It's all very fine for them to talk. It remains to be seen if itisn't an excuse for being skinny with the drink."
"Pen may be right, after all," said Gripper.
"His nose is too red for that," answered Bolton. "Pen needn't grumbleif it loses a little of its colour in the voyage."
"What's my nose got to do with you?" sharply replied the sailor,attacked in the most sensitive place. "My nose doesn't need any ofyour remarks; take care of your own."
"Now, then, don't get angry, Pen; I didn't know your nose was so touchy.I like a glass of whisky as well as anybody, especially in such atemperature; but if I know it'll do me more harm than good, I gowithout."
"You go without," said Warren, the stoker; "but everyone don't gowithout."
"What do you mean, Warren?" asked Garry, looking fixedly at him.
"I mean that for some reason or other there are spirits on board,and I know they don't go without in the stern."
"And how do you know that?" asked Garry.
Warren did not know what to say: he talked for the sake of talking.
"You see Warren don't know anything about it, Garry," said Bolton.
"Well," said Pen, "we'll ask the commander for a ration of gin; we'veearned it well and we'll see what he says."
"I wouldn't if I were you," answered Garry.
"Why?" cried Pen and Gripper.
"Because he'll refuse. You knew you weren't to have any when youenlisted; you should have thought of it then."
"Besides," replied Bolton, who took Garry's part because he likedhis character, "Richard Shandon isn't master on board; he obeys, likeus."
"Who is master if he isn't?"
"The captain."
"Always that unfortunate captain!" exclaimed Pen. "Don't you see thaton these ice-banks there's no more a captain than there is a public?It's a polite way of refusing us what we've a right to claim."
"But if there's a captain," replied Bolton, "I'll bet two months'pay we shall see him before long."
"I should like to tell the captain a bit of my mind," said Pen.
"Who's talking about the captain?" said a new-comer. It was Clifton,the sailor, a superstitious and envious man. "Is anything new knownabout the captain?" he asked.
"No," they all answered at once.
"Well, I believe we shall find him one fine morning installed in hiscabin, and no one will know how he got there."
"Get along, do!" replied Bolton. "Why, Clifton, you imagine that he'sa hobgoblin--a sort of wild child of the Highlands."
"Laugh as much as you like, Bolton, you won't change my opinion. Everyday as I pass his cabin I look through the keyhole. One of these finemornings I shall come and tell you what he's like."
"Why, he'll be like everyone else," said Pen, "and if he thinks he'llbe able to do what he likes with us, he'll find himself mistaken,that's all!"
"Pen don't know him yet," said Bolton, "and he's beginning to quarrelwith him already."
"Who doesn't know him?" said Clifton, looking knowing; "I don't knowthat he don't!"
"What the devil do you mean?" asked Gripper.
"I know very well what I mean."
"But we don't."
"Well, Pen has quarrelled with him before."
"With the captain?"
"Yes, the dog-captain--it's all one."
The sailors looked at one another, afraid to say anything.
"Man or dog," muttered Pen, "I declare that that animal will havehis account one of these days."
"Come, Clifton," asked Bolton seriously, "you don't mean to say thatyou believe the dog is the real captain?"
"Indeed I do," answered Clifton with conviction. "If you noticedthings like I do, you would have noticed what a queer beast it is."
"Well, tell us what you've noticed."
"Haven't you noticed the way he walks on the poop with such an airof authority, looking up at the sails as if he were on watch?"
"That's true enough," added Gripper, "and one evening I actually foundhim with his paws on the paddle-wheel."
"You don't mean it!" said Bolton.
"And now what do you think he does but go for a walk on the ice-fields,minding neither the bears nor the cold?"
"That's true enough," said Bolton.
"Do you ever see that 'ere animal, like an honest dog, seek men'scompany, sneak about the kitchen, and set his eyes on Mr. Strong when'she taking something good to the commander? Don't you hear him in thenight when he goes away two or three miles from the vessel, howlingfit to make your blood run cold, as if it weren't easy enough to feelthat sensation in such a temperature as this? Again, have you everseen him feed? He takes nothing from any one. His food is alwaysuntouched and unless a secret hand feeds him on board, I may say thathe lives without eating, and if he's not unearthly, I'm a fool!"
"Upon my word," said Bell, the carpenter, who had heard all Clifton'sreasoning, "I shouldn't be surprised if such was the case." The othersailors were silenced.
"Well, at any rate, where's the _Forward_ going to?"
"I don't know anything about it," replied Bell. "Richard Shandon willreceive the rest of his instructions in due time."
"But from whom?"
"From whom?"
"Yes, how?" asked Bolton, becoming pressing.
"Now then, answer, Bell!" chimed in all the other sailors.
"By whom? how? Why, I don't know," said the carpenter, embarrassedin his turn.
"Why, by the dog-captain," exclaimed Clifton. "He has written oncealready; why shouldn't he again? If I only knew half of what that'ere animal knows, I shouldn't be embarrassed at being First Lordof the Admiralty!"
"So then you stick to your opinion that the dog is the captain?"
"Yes."
"Well," said Pen in a hoarse voice, "if that 'ere animal don't wantto turn up his toes in a dog's skin, he's only got to make haste andbecome a man, or I'm hanged if I don't settle him."
"What for?" asked Garry.
"Because I choose," replied Pen brutally; "besides, it's no businessof any one."
"Enough talking, my boys," called out Mr. Johns
on, interfering justin time, for the conversation was getting hot. "Get on with your work,and set up your saws quicker than that. We must clear the iceberg."
"What! on a Friday?" replied Clifton, shrugging his shoulders."You'll see she won't get over the Polar circle as easily as youthink."
The efforts of the crew were almost powerless during the whole day.The _Forward_ could not separate the ice-fields even by going againstthem full speed, and they were obliged to anchor for the night. OnSaturday the temperature lowered again under the influence of aneasterly wind. The weather cleared up, and the eye could sweep overthe white plains in the distance, which the reflection of the sun'srays rendered dazzling. At seven in the morning the thermometer markedeight degrees below zero. The doctor was tempted to stay quietly inhis cabin, and read the Arctic voyages over again; but, accordingto his custom, he asked himself what would be the most disagreeablething he could do, which he settled was to go on deck and assist themen to work in such a temperature. Faithful to the line of conducthe had traced out for himself, he left his well-warmed cabin and cameto help in hauling the vessel. His was a pleasant face, in spite ofthe green spectacles by which he preserved his eyes from the bitingof the reflected rays; in his future observations he was alwayscareful in making use of his snow spectacles, in order to avoidophthalmia, very frequent in these high latitudes.
Towards evening the _Forward_ had made several miles further north,thanks to the activity of the men and Shandon's skill, which madehim take advantage of every favourable circumstance; at midnight hehad got beyond the sixty-sixth parallel, and the fathom line declaredtwenty-three fathoms of water; Shandon discovered that he was on theshoal where Her Majesty's ship _Victoria_ struck, and that land wasdrawing near, thirty miles to the east. But now the heaps of ice,which up till now had been motionless, divided and began to move;icebergs seemed coming from every point of the horizon; the brig wasentangled in a series of moving rocks, the crushing force of whichit was impossible to resist. Moving became so difficult that Garry,the best helmsman, took the wheel; the mountains had a tendency toclose up behind the brig; it then became essential to cut throughthe floating ice, and prudence as well as duty ordered them to goahead. Difficulties became greater from the impossibility thatShandon found in establishing the direction of the vessel amongstsuch changing points, which kept moving without offering one firmperspective. The crew was divided into two tacks, larboard andstarboard; each one, armed with a long perch with an iron point, droveback the two threatening blocks. Soon the _Forward_ entered into apass so narrow, between two high blocks, that the extremity of heryards struck against the walls, hard as rock; by degrees she entangledherself in the midst of a winding valley, filled up with eddies ofsnow, whilst the floating ice was crashing and splitting with sinistercracklings. But it soon became certain that there was no egress fromthis gullet. An enormous block, caught in the channel, was drivingrapidly on to the _Forward_! It seemed impossible to avoid it, andequally impossible to back out along a road already obstructed.
Shandon and Johnson, standing on the prow, were contemplating theposition. Shandon was pointing with his right hand at the directionthe helmsman was to take, and with his left was conveying to JamesWall, posted near the engineer, his orders for the working of themachine.
"How will this end?" asked the doctor of Johnson.
"As it may please God," replied the boatswain.
The block of ice, at least a hundred feet high, was only about a cable'slength from the _Forward_, and threatened to pound her under it.
"Cursed luck!" exclaimed Pen, swearing frightfully.
"Silence!" exclaimed a voice which it was impossible to recognisein the midst of the storm.
The block seemed to be precipitating itself upon the brig; there wasa moment of undefinable anguish; the men forsook their poles andflocked to the stern in spite of Shandon's orders.
Suddenly a frightful sound was heard; a genuine waterspout fell upondeck, heaved up by an enormous wave. A cry of terror rang out fromthe crew whilst Garry, at the helm, held the _Forward_ in a straightline in spite of the frightful incumbrance. When their frightenedlooks were drawn towards the mountain of ice it had disappeared; thepass was free, and further on a long channel, illuminated by theoblique rays of the sun, allowed the brig to pursue her track.
"Well, Mr. Clawbonny," said Johnson, "can you explain to me the causeof that phenomenon?"
"It is a very simple one," answered the doctor, "and happens veryoften. When those floating bodies are disengaged from each other bythe thaw, they sail away separately, maintaining their balance; butby degrees, as they near the south, where the water is relativelywarmer, their base, shaken by the collision with other icebergs,begins to melt and weaken; it then happens that their centre of gravityis displaced, and, naturally, they overturn. Only, if that one hadturned over two minutes later, it would have crushed our vessel topieces."
