Works of Jules Verne/Adventures of Captain Hatteras/The English at the North Pole/Chapter 11
CHAPTER XI
THE DEVIL'S THUMB
During Shandon's absence the crew had been busily engaged in various attempts to lessen the pressure of the ice. This task was entrusted to Pen, Clifton, Bolton, Gripper, and Simpson, in addition to the two engineers and the stokers, who had to take their share of work as sailors, now that their services were not required at the engine.
"I tell you what," exclaimed Pen, angrily, "I have had enough of this, and I swear that if the ice does not break up within three days, I'll fold my arms, and not do another hand's turn!"
"Fold your arms!" said Gripper; "you had far better use them to get back. Do you suppose we are inclined to stay here all the winter till next spring?"
"Truly it would be a dismal place to winter in," said Plover, "for the vessel is exposed on all sides."
"And who knows," asked Brunton the engineer, "whether the sea will be a bit more open next spring than it is to-day?"
"It isn't a question of next spring," replied Pen; "this is Thursday, and if the passage is not open by Sunday morning we turn round and go south"
"That's a sensible speech," said Clifton.
"Do you go in for that?" inquired Pen.
"Yes," was the unanimous reply.
"And it is only just," said Warren; "for if we are obliged to work in this fashion, and tow the ship along by main force, my opinion is that our labor would be better spent in dragging it back."
"We shall see that on Sunday," said Wolsten.
"Let me get orders," said Brunton, "and I'll soon light the furnaces."
"As for that," returned Clifton, "we can light them ourselves."
"If any one of the officers," continued Pen, "has a fancy to winter here, he is quite at liberty. He'll find no difficulty in making a snow-hut for himself, where he can live like a regular Esquimaux."
"That's out of the question, Pen," said Brunton, "we cannot leave anyone behind; and, what's more, I don't think the chief officer will be difficult to persuade. He seems very uneasy now, and if we propose the thing quietly to him———"
"That remains to be seen," said Plover. "Richard Shandon can be a hard, obstinate man when he likes; we must feel our way carefully."
"Only to think," said Bolton, eagerly, "that in a month's time we might be back in Liverpool. We shall easily get over the ice-belt down south. Davis's Straits will be open at the beginning of June, and we have only to get right out into the Atlantic."
"We have this to take into account besides," said the prudent Clifton, "that, in getting Shandon to come back with us, we act on his responsibility, and our shares and bounty money are sure; whereas, if we return alone, it is at least doubtful if we get them."
"But suppose the officers will not go back?" resumed Pen, bent on pushing the question to the extreme.
There was no reply for a moment, and then Bolton said: "We shall see when the time comes; all we have to do now is to win over Richard Shandon to our side, and I don't think that will be difficult."
"There is one on board, at all events, I'll leave behind," said Pen, with a frightful oath, "though he should eat my arm off."
"That dog?" said Plover.
"Yes, that dog; and I mean to do for him before I am much older."
"The sooner the better," replied Clifton, never weary of his favorite subject. "He is the cause of all our misfortunes."
"I believe he dragged us into the ice," said Gripper.
"Ay, and gathered it up like this in front of us, for such compact masses are never seen at this time of the year," added Wolsten.
"It is through him my eyes are so bad," said Brunton, wearily.
"And through him we have neither gin nor brandy," said Pen.
"So the men went on, each one having his own grievance against the dog
"Worst of all," said Clifton, "he is the captain!"
"A curse of a captain he is too!" exclaimed Pen, in a paroxysm of senseless rage "Well, he determined to come here, and here he shall stay."
"But how shall we got hold of him?" said Plover.
"Now's our chance," replied Clifton; "Shandon is not on board; Wall is alseep in his berth; and the fog is so thick that Johnson will never see us."
"But the dog?" interrupted Pen.
"Captain is lying asleep this moment close beside the coal bunker," replied Clifton; "if anyone chooses to———"
"I'll undertake to get him," cried Pen in a fury.
"Take care, Pen; he has grinders that can break iron bars."
"If he stirs I'll rip him up," declared Pen, taking up a knife, as he rushed down between decks, followed by Warren, who wished to have a hand in the business.
Both came back presently, carrying the dog in their arms, muzzled and tied up. They had surprised him in his sleep, and escape was impossible.
"Hurrah for Pen!" exclaimed Plover.
"And now what's to be done with him?" inquired Clifton.
"Drown him, and see if he ever makes his appearance again," replied Pen, with a grim smile of satisfaction.
About two hundred paces from the ship was a seal-hole, a circular crevasse made by the animals, out of which they come to breathe at certain intervals, basking on the surface of the ice, retreating below when danger approaches.
Pen and Warren directed their course to this hole, and, in spite of the poor dog's vigorous struggles, succeeded in plunging him into the sea, pitilessly placing an immense block of ice afterwards over the opening, to deprive him completely of all hope of release from his liquid prison.
"A good voyage to you!" shouted the cruel Pen as he returned to the vessel with Warren, unperceived by Johnson, for in addition to the thick fog the snow had commenced to fall heavily.
About an hour afterwards Shandon and his two companions came back. Shandon had discovered a single lead to the north-east, and determined to take advantage of it. The crew obeyed his orders with alacrity, for three days still remained; and, moreover, they wished to prove the impracticability of proceeding farther north.
Sawing the ice and tracking went on busily during a part of that night and all next day, and the Forward had gained two miles.
On the 18th they sighted land, and came within five or six cables' length of a singular peak, called, from its strange shape, the Devil's Thumb.
At the very same place the Prince Albert, in 1851 and the Advance, with Dr. Kane, in 1853, were caught in the ice and detained for several weeks.
It was a dismal spot. The weird, fantastic form of the towering peak, the dreary, desolate surroundings, the ominous crackings of the glaciers, echoing and re-echoing over the distant plains, and the vast encircling icebergs, some of them three hundred feet high, invested the whole region with peculiar gloom, and Shandon felt no time must be lost in getting out of it. By dint of strenuous efforts, in twenty- four hours he had pushed on about two miles; but this was not enough. Yet what was to be done? He felt as if his energies were paralysed by the false position in which he was placed, and a sort of shrinking fear began to creep over him, for he knew that he could not carry out the instructions of his unknown captain, without exposing the ship to great danger. The men were worn out. It took them more than three hours to cut a passage twenty feet long through floes four or five feet thick, and their health was already seriously impaired. Shandon was also uneasy at the silence of the crew and their unusual zeal; he dreaded it might be the calm which precedes a storm.
Imagine, then, the painful surprise and disappointment, even the despair, which he felt to find, through an insensible movement of the ice-fields, the Forward lost in one night the ground she had gained at the cost of so much fatigue. On the morning of Saturday, the 18th, they were right in front of the Devil's Thumb again, in a more critical position than before, for the icebergs had increased, and passed like phantoms through the fog.
Shandon was completely unnerved. His intrepid heart failed him, and he, like his men, quaked for fear. He had heard of the disappearance of the dog, but did not dare make any inquiry, lest a mutiny should break out.
It was terrible weather that day. A whirlwind of snow and thick mist wrapped the brig in an impenetrable veil. Occasionally the violent tempest would dispel the fog for an instant and disclose to the terrified gazer the gaunt, spectral form of the Devil's Thumb. Nothing could be done or even attempted except to anchor on an immense floe, for the darkness momentarily increased, and the man at the wheel could not even see the officer on watch at the bows.
Shandon retired to his cabin, a prey to the most tormenting anxieties. The Doctor employed himself in arranging his notes, and the sailors lounged about the deck, or betook themselves to the forecastle. The hurricane increased, and, through a sudden rift in the fog, the Devil's Thumb appeared slowly rising higher and higher.
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Simpson, starting back in dismay.
"What's the matter?" asked Foker.
He needed no answer; for terrified outcries were heard on all sides—one exclaiming, "It is going to crush us!" and another, "We are lost!" and a third called loudly for Mr. Wall and Shandon, who speedily obeyed the summons. The Doctor followed, and for a minute all three stood in silent amaze.
It was a most alarming spectacle. Through a partial opening in the fog, the Devil's Thumb seemed quite close to the ship; its size increased to colossal magnitude, and on the summit a second cone appeared, point downwards, as if pivoted on the first, oscillating to and fro, and apparently about to fall on the brig and crush her beneath its enormous weight. Instinctively, everyone drew back, and several of the sailors jumped down on the ice and left the ship.
"Every man to his post," shouted Shandon, in stern tones. "No one is to leave the ship."
"Don't be afraid, my friends," said the Doctor. "There is no danger. It is simply the effect of the mirage, Mr. Shandon and Mr. Wall."
"You are right, Mr. Clawbonny," said Johnson. "These silly fellows are terrified at a shadow!"
Most of the sailors came back at the Doctor's reassuring words, and fear gave place to admiration, as they stood gazing at the marvellous phenomenon, which only lasted a few minutes longer.
"They call that a mirage," said Clifton, "but take my word for it, some fiend has to do with it."
"That's sure and certain," said Gripper. But the rift in the fog had revealed to Shandon's eyes a favorable lead, and he determined to profit by it without delay.. He placed the men on each side of the opening. The hawsers were thrown out to them, and the work of tracking commenced.
They went on for many long hours, and Shandon had the furnaces lighted to use all available means of getting rapidly on.
"It is a providential chance," he said to Johnson, "and if we can only make a few miles farther, we may be out of difficulties. The men are in a mind to work, for they are glad to get clear of the Devil's Thumb, so we will take advantage of their mood as long as it lasts."
All of a sudden the brig ceased moving.
"What's wrong, Wall?" asked Shandon. "Any of the ropes broken?"
"No, sir," said Wall, looking over the side, "bu the sailors are all running helter-skelter towards the ship, and here some of them are climbing up the side as if they were out of their wits with fright."
"What's the matter?" called Shandon, coming towards the bows.
"Let us on board! Let us on board!" exclaimed the sailors in panic-stricken tones.
Shandon looked towards the north and shuddered.
A strange-looking animal, with smoking tongue hanging out of enormous wide open jaws, was bounding towards the ship, and had come within a cable's length of her. He seemed more than twenty feet high; his hair stood on end, and his formidable tail, full ten feet long, swept the snow and sent it flying in thick clouds. He was evidently in pursuit of the sailors, and the apparition of such a monster was enough to scare the bravest.
"It is a bear!" said one.
"It is a dragon!" exclaimed another.
"It is the lion in the Revelation!" suggested a third, while Shandon ran to his cabin and seized a loaded pistol. The Doctor armed himself with a revolver, and stood ready to fire at the huge animal, who seemed, from his enormous size, to belong to the antediluvian world.
The beast came nearer, making tremendus leaps and Shandon and the Doctor discharged their weapons simultaneously. An unlooked-for result followed. The sudden explosion shook the atmosphere and changed the entire aspect of things
The Doctor burst out laughing, and said, "Refraction again!"
"Refraction!" exclaimed Shandon.
But the crew shouted "The dog! the dog-captain!" and Pen thundered out, "Ah! it is the dog, always that cursed dog!"
And the dog it really was, who had snapped his cords and managed to get out on the ice again at another seal-hole.
Refraction, which is common enough in Arctic latitudes, had made him assume these formidable dimensions, while the vibration in the atmosphere had restored him to his original proportions. But this occurrence had a bad effect on the sailors, who were by no means disposed to accept a purely physical explanation of it. The strange phenomenon at the Devil's Thumb, and the reappearance of the dog under such peculiar circumstances, brought things to a climax, and loud murmurings were heard on all sides.