Moreover, this continued toil with saws, capstan, and poles, all of which was persistent, compulsory, and dangerous, amid the dense fog or snow, while the air was so cold, and their eyes so exposed, their doubt so great, did much to weaken the crew of the Forward and to act on their imagination.
When sailors have to deal with a man who is energetic, bold, and determined, who knows what he wants, whither he is going, what aim he has in view, confidence animates them all in spite of themselves; they are firmly united to their leader, strong with his force and calm with his calmness. But on board of the brig they were aware of the commander's uncertainty, they knew that he hesitated before the unknown aim and destination. In spite of the energy of his character, his uncertainty was clearly to be seen by his uncertain orders, incomplete manœuvres, his sudden outbursts, and a thousand petty details which could not escape the sharp eyes of the crew.
And then, Shandon was not the captain of the ship, the master under God, which was enough to encourage the discussion of his orders; and from discussion to disobedience is but a short step.
The malcontents soon brought over to their number the first engineer, who, hitherto, had been a slave to his duty.
The 16th of May, six days after the Forward had reached the ice, Shandon had not made two miles to northward. They were threatened with being detained in the ice until the next season. Matters had a serious look.
Towards eight o'clock of the evening, Shandon and the doctor, accompanied by Garry, went out to reconnoitre the vast plains; they took care not to go too far from the ship, for it was hard to find any fixed points in this white solitude, which was ever changing in appearance. Refraction kept producing strange effects, much to the doctor's astonishment; at one place, where he thought he had but an easy jump before him, he had to leap some five or six feet; or else the contrary happened, and in either case the result was a tumble, which if not dangerous was at any rate painful, for the ice was as hard and slippery as glass.
Shandon and his two companions went out to seek a possible passage; three miles from the ship, they succeeded with some difficulty in ascending an iceberg about three hundred feet high. From that point nothing met their eyes but a confused mass, like the ruins of a vast city, with shattered monuments, overthrown towers, and prostrate palaces,—a real chaos. The sun was just peering above the jagged horizon, and sent forth long, oblique rays of light, but not of heat, as if something impassable for heat lay between it and this wild country.
The sea appeared perfectly covered as far as eye could reach.
“How shall we get through'?” asked the doctor.
“I don't know,” answered Shandon; “but we shall get through, if we have to blow our way through with powder. I certainly sha' n't stay in the ice till next spring.”
“But that happened to the Fox, and not far from here. Bah!” said the doctor; “we shall get through with a little philosophy. You will see that is worth all the machinery in the world.”
“I must say,” answered Shandon, “this year does not begin very well.”
“True, Shandon, and I notice also that Baffin's Bay seems to be returning to the state it was in before 1817.”
“Don't you think, Doctor, it has always been as it is now?”
“No, my dear Shandon, from time to time there have been great breakings of the ice which no one can explain; so, up to 1817 this sea was continually full, when an enormous sort of inundation took place, which cast the icebergs into the ocean, most of which reached the banks of Newfoundland. From that day Baffin's Bay was nearly free, and was visited by whalers.”
“So,” asked Shandon, “from that time voyages to the North became easier?”
“Incomparably; but for some years it has been noticed that the bay seems to be resuming its old ways and threatens to become closed, possibly for a long time, to sailors. An additional reason, by the way, for pushing on as far as possible. And yet it must be said, we look like people who are pushing on in unknown ways, with the doors forever closing behind us.”
“Would you advise me to go back?” asked Shandon, trying to read into the depths of the doctor's eyes.
“I! I have never retreated yet, and, even if we should never get back, I say go on. Still, I want to make it clear that if we act imprudently, we do it with our eyes open.”
“And you, Garry, what do you think about it?” asked Shandon of the sailor.
“I, Commander, should go straight on; I agree with Dr. Clawbonny; but do as you please; command, we shall obey.”
“They don't all talk as you do, Garry,” resumed Shandon; “they are not all ready to obey. And if they refuse to obey my orders?”
“I have given you my opinion, Commander,” answered Garry, coldly, “because you asked for it; but you are not obliged to follow it.”
Shandon did not answer; he scanned the horizon closely, and then descended with his companions to the ice-fields.
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