The English at the North Pole - Jules Verne (love story books to read txt) 📗
- Author: Jules Verne
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Towards evening the Forward had made several miles further north, thanks to the activity of the men and Shandon's skill, which made him take advantage of every favourable circumstance; at midnight he had got beyond the sixty-sixth parallel, and the fathom line declared twenty-three fathoms of water; Shandon discovered that he was on the shoal where Her Majesty's ship Victoria struck, and that land was drawing 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 was entangled in a series of moving rocks, the crushing force of which it was impossible to resist. Moving became so difficult that Garry, the best helmsman, took the wheel; the mountains had a tendency to close up behind the brig; it then became essential to cut through the floating ice, and prudence as well as duty ordered them to go ahead. Difficulties became greater from the impossibility that Shandon found in establishing the direction of the vessel amongst such changing points, which kept moving without offering one firm perspective. The crew was divided into two tacks, larboard and starboard; each one, armed with a long perch with an iron point, drove back the two threatening blocks. Soon the Forward entered into a pass so narrow, between two high blocks, that the extremity of her yards struck against the walls, hard as rock; by degrees she entangled herself in the midst of a winding valley, filled up with eddies of snow, whilst the floating ice was crashing and splitting with sinister cracklings. But it soon became certain that there was no egress from this gullet. An enormous block, caught in the channel, was driving rapidly on to the Forward! It seemed impossible to avoid it, and equally impossible to back out along a road already obstructed.
Shandon and Johnson, standing on the prow, were contemplating the position. Shandon was pointing with his right hand at the direction the helmsman was to take, and with his left was conveying to James Wall, posted near the engineer, his orders for the working of the machine.
"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's length 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 recognise in the midst of the storm.
The block seemed to be precipitating itself upon the brig; there was a moment of undefinable anguish; the men forsook their poles and flocked to the stern in spite of Shandon's orders.
Suddenly a frightful sound was heard; a genuine waterspout fell upon deck, heaved up by an enormous wave. A cry of terror rang out from the crew whilst Garry, at the helm, held the Forward in a straight line in spite of the frightful incumbrance. When their frightened looks were drawn towards the mountain of ice it had disappeared; the pass was free, and further on a long channel, illuminated by the oblique rays of the sun, allowed the brig to pursue her track.
"Well, Mr. Clawbonny," said Johnson, "can you explain to me the cause of that phenomenon?"
"It is a very simple one," answered the doctor, "and happens very often. When those floating bodies are disengaged from each other by the thaw, they sail away separately, maintaining their balance; but by degrees, as they near the south, where the water is relatively warmer, their base, shaken by the collision with other icebergs, begins to melt and weaken; it then happens that their centre of gravity is displaced, and, naturally, they overturn. Only, if that one had turned over two minutes later, it would have crushed our vessel to pieces."
The Polar circle was cleared at last. On the 30th of April, at midday, the Forward passed abreast of Holsteinborg; picturesque mountains rose up on the eastern horizon. The sea appeared almost free from icebergs, and the few there were could easily be avoided. The wind veered round to the south-east, and the brig, under her mizensail, brigantine, topsails, and her topgallant sail, sailed up Baffin's Sea. It had been a particularly calm day, and the crew were able to take a little rest. Numerous birds were swimming and fluttering about round the vessel; amongst others, the doctor observed some alca-alla, very much like the teal, with black neck, wings and back, and white breast; they plunged with vivacity, and their immersion often lasted forty seconds.
The day would not have been remarkable if the following fact, however extraordinary it may appear, had not occurred on board. At six o'clock in the morning Richard Shandon, re-entering his cabin after having been relieved, found upon the table a letter with this address:
"To the Commander,
"RICHARD SHANDON,
"On board the 'FORWARD,'
"Baffin's Sea."
Shandon could not believe his own eyes, and before reading such a strange epistle he caused the doctor, James Wall and Johnson to be called, and showed them the letter.
"That grows very strange," said Johnson.
"It's delightful!" thought the doctor.
"At last," cried Shandon, "we shall know the secret."
With a quick hand he tore the envelope and read as follows:
"COMMANDER,—The captain of the Forward is pleased with the coolness, skill, and courage that your men, your officers, and yourself have shown on the late occasions, and begs you to give evidence of his gratitude to the crew.
"Have the goodness to take a northerly direction towards Melville Bay, and from thence try and penetrate into Smith's Straits.
"K. Z."
"Monday, April 30th,
"Abreast of Cape Walsingham."
"Is that all?" cried the doctor.
"That's all," replied Shandon, and the letter fell from his hands.
"Well," said Wall, "this chimerical captain doesn't even mention coming on board, so I conclude that he never will come."
"But how did this letter get here?" said Johnson.
Shandon was silent.
"Mr. Wall is right," replied the doctor, after picking up the letter and turning it over in every direction; "the captain won't come on board for an excellent reason——"
"And what's that?" asked Shandon quickly.
"Because he is here already," replied the doctor simply.
"Already!" said Shandon. "What do you mean?"
"How do you explain the arrival of this letter if such is not the case?"
Johnson nodded his head in sign of approbation.
"It is not possible!" said Shandon energetically. "I know every man of the crew. We should have to believe, in that case, that the captain has been with us ever since we set sail. It is not possible, I tell you. There isn't one of them that I haven't seen for more than two years in Liverpool; doctor, your supposition is inadmissible."
"Then what do you admit, Shandon?"
"Everything but that! I admit that the captain, or one of his men, has profited by the darkness, the fog, or anything you like, in order to slip on board; we are not very far from land; there are Esquimaux kaïaks that pass unperceived between the icebergs; someone may have come on board and left the letter; the fog was intense enough to favour their design."
"And to hinder them from seeing the brig," replied the doctor; "if we were not able to perceive an intruder slip on board, how could he have discovered the Forward in the midst of a fog?"
"That is evident," exclaimed Johnson.
"I come back, then," said the doctor, "to my first hypothesis. What do you think about it, Shandon?"
"I think what you please," replied Shandon fiercely, "with the exception of supposing that this man is on board my vessel."
"Perhaps," added Wall, "there may be amongst the crew a man of his who has received instructions from him."
"That's very likely," added the doctor.
"But which man?" asked Shandon. "I tell you I have known all my men a long time."
"Anyhow," replied Johnson, "if this captain shows himself, let him be man or devil, we'll receive him; but we have another piece of information to draw from this letter."
"What's that?" asked Shandon.
"Why, that we are to direct our path not only towards Melville Bay, but again into Smith's Straits."
"You are right," answered the doctor.
"Smith's Straits?" echoed Shandon mechanically.
"It is evident," replied Johnson, "that the destination of the Forward is not to seek a North-West passage, as we shall leave to our left the only track that leads to it—that is to say, Lancaster Straits; that's what forebodes us difficult navigation in unknown seas."
"Yes, Smith's Straits," replied Shandon, "that's the route the American Kane followed in 1853, and at the price of what dangers! For a long time he was thought to be lost in those dreadful latitudes! However, as we must go, go we must. But where? how far? To the Pole?"
"And why not?" cried the doctor.
The idea of such an insane attempt made the boatswain shrug his shoulders.
"After all," resumed James Wall, "to come back to the captain, if he exists, I see nowhere on the coast of Greenland except Disko or Uppernawik where he can be waiting for us; in a few days we shall know what we may depend upon."
"But," asked the doctor of Shandon, "aren't you going to make known the contents of that letter to the crew?"
"With the commander's permission," replied Johnson, "I should do nothing of the kind."
"And why so?" asked Shandon.
"Because all that mystery tends to discourage the men: they are already very anxious about the fate of our expedition, and if the supernatural side of it is increased it may produce very serious results, and in a critical moment we could not rely upon them. What do you say about it, commander?"
"And you, doctor—what do you think?" asked Shandon.
"I think Johnson's reasoning is just."
"And you, Wall?"
"Unless there's better advice forthcoming, I shall stick to the opinion of these gentlemen."
Shandon reflected seriously during a few minutes, and read the letter over again carefully.
"Gentlemen," said he, "your opinion on this subject is certainly excellent, but I cannot adopt it."
"Why not, Shandon?" asked the doctor.
"Because the instructions of this letter are formal: they command me to give the captain's congratulations to the crew, and up till to-day I have always blindly obeyed his orders in whatever manner they have been transmitted to me, and I cannot——"
"But——" said Johnson, who rightly dreaded the effect of such a communication upon the minds of the sailors.
"My dear Johnson," answered Shandon, "your reasons are excellent, but read—'he begs you to give evidence of his gratitude to the crew.'"
"Act as you think best," replied Johnson, who was besides a very strict observer of discipline. "Are we to muster the crew on deck?"
"Do so," replied Shandon.
The news of a communication having been received from the captain spread like wildfire on deck; the sailors quickly arrived at their post, and the commander read out the contents of
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