The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras. Jules Verne
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in the mist, the Devil's Thumb appeared to have suddenly come near the brig; it seemed to have grown enormously in size; on its summit was balanced a second cone, upside down, and revolving on its point; it threatened to crush the ship with its enormous mass; it wavered, ready to fall down. It was an alarming sight. Every one drew back instinctively, and many of the men, jumping upon the ice, abandoned the ship.
“Let no one move!” cried the commander with a loud voice; “every one to his place!”
“My friends, don't be frightened,” said the doctor, “there is no danger! See, Commander, see, Mr. Wall, that's the mirage and nothing else.”
“You are right. Dr. Clawbonny,” replied Johnson; “they've all been frightened by a shadow.”
When they had heard what the doctor said, most of the sailors drew near him, and from terror they turned to admiration of this wonderful phenomenon, which soon passed from their view.
“They call that a mirage,” said Clifton; “the Devil's at the bottom of it, I'm sure.”
“That's true,” growled Gripper.
But the break in the fog had given the commander a glimpse of a broad passage which he had not expected to find; it promised to lead him away from the shore; he resolved to make use of it at once; men were sent out on each side of the canal; hawsers were given them, and they began to tow the ship northward.
During long hours this work was prosecuted busily but silently; Shandon had the furnace-fires lighted to help him through this passage so providentially discovered.
“That's great luck,” he said to Johnson, “and if we can only get on a few miles, we may be free. Make a hot fire, Mr. Brunton, and let me know as soon as you get steam on. Meanwhile, men, the farther on we get, the more gained! You want to get away from the Devil's Thumb; well, now is your chance!”
Suddenly the brig stopped. “What's the matter?” shouted Shandon. “Wall, have the tow-ropes broken?”
“No,” answered Wall, leaning over the ratling. “See, there are the men running back; they are climbing on board; they seem very much frightened.”
“What's happened?” cried Shandon, running forward.
“On board, on board!” cried the sailors, evidently exceedingly terrified.
Shandon looked towards the north, and shuddered in spite of himself.
A strange animal, with alarming motions, whose steaming tongue hung from huge jaws, was bounding along within a cable's length from the ship; it seemed more than twenty feet high; its hair stood on end; it was chasing the sailors as if about to seize them, while its tail, which was at least ten feet long, lashed the snow and tossed it about in dense gusts. The sight of the monster froze the blood in the veins of the boldest.
“It's an enormous bear,” said one.
“It's the beast of Gévaudan!”
“It's the lion of the Apocalypse!”
Shandon ran to his cabin to get a gun which he kept always loaded; the doctor seized his arms, and made ready to fire at the beast, which by its size, recalled antediluvian monsters.
It drew near with long leaps; Shandon and the doctor fired at the same time, and suddenly the report of the pieces agitated the air and produced an unlooked-for effect.
The doctor gazed attentively, and could not help bursting out laughing. “It's refraction!” said he.
“Refraction!” cried Shandon.
But a terrible cry from the crew interrupted them.
“The dog!” shouted Clifton.
“The dog-captain!” repeated his companions.
“It's he!” cried Pen.
In fact, it was the dog who had burst his bonds and had made his way to the surface of the ice through another hole. At that moment the refraction, by a phenomenon common in these latitudes, exaggerated his size, and this had only been broken by the report of the guns; but, notwithstanding, a disastrous impression had been produced upon the minds of the sailors, who were not very much inclined to admit any explanation of the fact from physical causes. The adventure of the Devil's Thumb, the reappearance of the dog under such peculiar circumstances, completely upset them, and murmurs arose on all sides.
Chapter XII.
Captain Hatteras.
The Forward was advancing rapidly under steam between the ice-fields and the mountains of ice. Johnson was at the helm. Shandon was examining the horizon with his snow-spectacles; but his joy was brief, for he soon saw that the passage was blocked up by a circle of mountains.
Nevertheless, he preferred to take his chances with pushing on, to returning.
The dog followed the brig on the ice, but he kept at a respectful distance. Only, if he lagged too far, there was to be heard a singular whistle which at once brought him on.
The first time that this whistle was heard, the sailors looked around; they were alone on the deck, talking together; there was no unknown person there; and yet this whistle was often repeated.
Clifton was the first to take alarm.
“Do you hear that?” he said; “and do you see how the dog starts as soon as he hears it?”
“It's past belief,” said Gripper.
“Very well!” cried Pen; “I'm not going any farther.”
“Pen is right,” said Brunton; “it's tempting Providence.”
“Tempting the Devil,” answered Clifton. “I should rather give up all my share of the pay than go on.”
“We shall never get back,” said Bolton, dejectedly.
The crew was exceedingly demoralized.
“Not a foot farther!” cried Wolston; “is that your opinion?”
“Yes, yes!” answered the sailors.
“Well,” said Bolton, “let's go find the commander; I'll undertake to tell him.”
The sailors in a dense group made their way to the quarterdeck.
The Forward was then advancing into a large arena, which had a diameter of about eight hundred feet; it was completely closed, with the exception of one place through which the ship entered.
Shandon saw that he was locking himself in. But what was to be done? How could he retreat? He felt all the responsibility, and his hand nervously grasped his glass.
The doctor looked on in silence, with folded arms; he gazed at the walls of ice, the average height of which was about three hundred feet. A cloud of fog lay like a dome above the gulf.
Then it was that Bolton spoke to the commander.
“Commander,” said he in a broken voice, “we can't go any farther.”
“What's that you are saying?” said Shandon, who felt enraged at the slight given to his authority.
“We have come to say, Commander,” resumed Bolton, “that we have done enough for this invisible captain, and that we have made up our minds not to go on any farther.”
“Made up your minds?” cried Shandon. “Is that the way you talk to me, Bolton? Take care.”
“You need not threaten,” retorted Pen, brutally, “we are not going any farther.”
Shandon stepped towards the mutinous sailors, when the boatswain said to him in a low voice,—
“Commander, if we want to get out of this place, we have not a moment to lose. There's an iceberg crowding towards the entrance; it may prevent our getting out and imprison us here.”
Shandon returned to look at the state of affairs.