Chapter II: A Fight Between Men and Ice

The _Sea Elephant’s_ cruise around the great Antarctic continent, and all her captain and bold men did, and said and saw, would make a book in itself. That may one day see the light, as well as the adventures of the men left behind at Kerguelen.

We must now follow our heroes into a country as widely different in every way as Scotland or England is from the moon.

Now, having been a boy myself, not so very long ago--apparently--and being still a boy at heart, I know that boys do not as a rule care for geography. That is because it is taught in a stupidly, awkward way at schools, a method being adopted which is devoid of all interest. But never mind, I _do_ wish you for once in a way to take a look at the map here presented to you. The ships were off south and east from Kerguelen Isle, and the first port to be struck was Termination Land. It was not to be the termination of their cruise, however, by a very long way.

Would you be surprised to learn that there are two poles in the south, and two in the north, the magnetic and real poles.

The real axis, the hub of our “terral” wheel, is the one we have to deal with.

Here all meridians may be supposed to meet at a point.

There would in reality be no more south for a man standing at this pole. Let him look in which ever way he liked, to Africa, to South America, or New Zealand; it would all be north, north, north. No east, no west, just north.

The _Sea Elephant_ and her sister, the _Walrus_, were not to be run into any danger along the coast of Wilkes’ Land, which marvellous line of shore may be said to stretch from Termination Land and Island, right away to Ringgold’s Knoll, far, far east. It is, or is supposed to be, the longest stretch of coast land in, or any way around, the Antarctic. There is no mistake about this being land, nor that it is indented with bays and gulphs, just as the west coast of Scotland or Norway is; and these indentations may really divide the continent in places.

I only want to give you some rough idea of this land coast. Had you then been able to sail along it many thousands of years ago--and you would have had to be up very early indeed to do so--before there was any ice here at all, when the shores were green and forest-clad, the sight you would have witnessed would have been a very beautiful one indeed! Hills and vales and mountain land, and probably in the farther interior, vast sierras, the woods teeming with strange animals; and strange birds would have been there, too, sailing over the forests, or floating on blue seas, alive with myriads of fish of various species, many now lost and gone, others still extant because they have migrated.

But now, though the same formation of surface and contour of hills may remain, they are all, all snow-clad, and protected seawards by a barrier, or barriers of ice, of every description, which few mariners would care to negotiate.

* * * * *

The weather continued favourable, but there were many days of darkness and gloom; and after Termination Land had been reached, it was not considered advisable--strong and well fortified though the ships were--to be among the ice when the shadows of great clouds enveloped the land, or when storms were threatened. But when the sun shone, and the ice was open, then they boldly ventured to push their way through, either under steam, or under sail.

Ice like this closes very suddenly, and if the captain of an exploring ship is not very clever, he may get caught, and a week’s imprisonment counts against a ship when making a voyage.

Sailing in a pack like this, a vessel to a landsman would seem to be in a very dangerous position.

She may be, though no one on board appears to think so. The ice is here, the ice is there, the ice is all around; flat bergs, like what you meet in the north; pancake ice, lakes of slush, and those terrible masses, or square mountains of land-ice--a characteristic feature of this country--with caved perpendicular sides, striated on the horizontal, or, if they have been melted by the sun at one side, oblique, and glittering gorgeously blue, green, or paley white, in the sun’s rays.

But all, big or small, covered with snow, so that their very whiteness dazzles the eyes. But at this season there were birds everywhere, and seals of many species. The penguins, I need hardly add, were a very curious sight, as they stood or staggered about on the low flat bergs. Our heroes saw some sea-elephants, though I believe these, as a rule, are far more common to the south of Tierra Del Fuego.

One day, when the ships were pretty close together, and well in through the ice, the sky cleared far too quickly to please Captain Mayne Brace. He knew at once that John Frost would have them in his clutches, if they did not soon beat a retreat.

So he signalled to his consort, and both vessels quickly had their heads turned to the north.

They might have found themselves clear in a few hours had it not suddenly come on to blow from the cold and icy south.

The ice began to pack.

Steam was got up with the greatest despatch, and nearly all sail taken in. Luckily there was no swell, else there would have been pressure enough to have thrown both vessels on their beam-ends on a floe.

The _Sea Elephant_ was leading, and by-and-by the _Walrus_ managed to creep right into her wake. This was an advantage for a time. A south wind, even with a clear sky, would naturally open the ice, but there was some demon current working underneath that they could not account for; and while they were still two miles from clear and open water, they found themselves rapidly becoming part and parcel of the pack.

Break the ice, did you say? I should smile. You may get steam machinery to smash bay-ice, or splinter pancake, but not your solid, heavy pieces. Oh no! So men who have inventions of this sort should sell them to farmers at home to break up their mill dams in winter.

Then came a battle ’twixt men and ice. Men with their cunning, ice with its force of movement, slow but sure.

Both ships got closer together, the _Sea Elephant_ leading, all hands that could be spared from both ships, over the side in front of the foremost.

Armed with great poles, they moved the bergs on every side.

It was bitterly cold work, and the pieces moved but slowly.

Under all the pressure of steam she could produce without risk, aided by the men over the side, the _Sea Elephant_ forged her way slowly, fathom by fathom, indeed, but after a time that to our heroes seemed interminable, her jib-boom hung over the black water.[D]

Then came the scramble to get inboard, and though their fingers were about as hard as boards, and some had frozen faces, in less than ten minutes all hands were once more on their respective decks.

Sail was once more set, fires were banked--save the coals they must--and away they went, right merrily, to the east again, the wind well on the starboard beam.

Although the men had raised a cheer when the ships were quite out of that ugly pack, there was no fear in any breast.

“Would there have been much danger if we had been beset in there, uncle?” Charlie ventured to ask the captain, at supper.

“A fig for the danger, boy. We’ll never be out of that, but we came to find the South Pole, or get somewhere near it.”

Ingomar smiled.

“Well, then, Hans, we have come to make a big record.”

“That will beat all creation, captain.”

“Yes, beat all creation, and it would have been misfortune, to say the least of it, to have got beset. That’s all. Yes, thanks, steward, I’ll have another slice.”

* * * * *

The two ships stood steadily onwards now, day after day, sailing whenever they could, steaming only when obliged to, for the economy of coal had to be studied, and that, too, most carefully.

Captain Bell, of the _Sea Elephant_, came now to be recognized as head of the expedition, though on every occasion that was deemed important a council was called and the opinions of all officers taken.

He was now always called The Admiral, but not to his face. He was none too fond of fine titles.

And the _Sea Elephant_ was called the Flag Ship, for short.

One day, when in the neighbourhood of the Knoll, the Admiral signalled to the _Walrus_, that as they would soon round Wilkes’ Land and stand down south, it would be best for all hands to bend their cold-weather gear.

In shore English that would signify, give out the supplies of winter clothing.

As it turned out, this was very excellent advice indeed.

The Eskimos had their supply first and foremost, and this they had made themselves, under the supervision of Slap-dash, and from seal-skins with the hair on.

Slap-dash assured Captain Bell that there was nothing so good for keeping out the cold, and his words turned out to be true. Most, however, of the sailors and their officers still stuck to flannel and fur.

Both Charlie and Walter had a very great desire to see the inside of a real ice-cave. These caves look like archways, or the openings into tunnels, and are formed by the dash of the waves on huge bergs of land-ice, or even in the sides of the ice-barrier itself.

They had their desire fulfilled one day, while the ships lay almost motionless on the dark water.

There wasn’t a breath of wind, nor was there any fog. And the surveyors were engaged very busily indeed, in taking soundings, and bringing up specimens of the mud or clay at the bottom for examination.

Fires were banked, but the ships were at no great distance from a lofty ice-wall, at the foot of which were several caves.

They rowed on shore at sunset.

And the appearance of that sunset was in itself a sight to behold!

The sun was sinking slowly down to the north of west, and in a cloudless sky. It seemed a larger sun than our young heroes had ever yet beheld, and cast its reflection on the heaving waves ’twixt boat and horizon, in a very remarkable way; for although the sheen was bright, it was not dazzling. Nor was the sun itself. But nearer to the spot where our heroes stood, on the field of level ice betwixt them and the ice-caves, were many shades of opal and pearl.

“We must be moving,” said Ingomar, “at last, boys, or we will not get home to-night.”

“Oh!” cried Walter, “I wouldn’t mind staying here all night to look at the sky.”

“Nor I,” said Charlie. “I’d like to sleep in the snow. Nothing could harm us except the frost, and we should be in our sleeping-bags, so that couldn’t hurt much.”

“There are no snakes here, anyhow.” This from “wise Walter,” as Charlie sometimes called him chaffingly.

“No, Walt; and no burglars, either.”

There was one thing to be said for the dogs, Nick and Nora and Wallace. They had long ago fully made up their minds to enjoy themselves to the fullest extent, whenever they had the chance.

They were tearing round and round on the ice-floe at this moment, wriggling and jumping and playing at leap-frog, while Nick would pause every moment to fill his mouth with snow and fling it over his neighbour’s shoulders.

The boys must have just one more look at that sky before they entered the ice-cave.

Lo! what a change. The sun was all but down, and sea and sky had changed to orange, deep and charming. The very snow was orange.

But judge of their disappointment when they entered the first cave and found that all was pitch dark.