The Von Toodleburgs; Or, The History of a Very Distinguished Family

by F. Colburn Adams

Have you, my gentle reader, ever seen the broad ocean in an angry mood on a cold, pitiless winter day, when the horizon was hung with cold, penetrating mist, when all overhead was black with fleeting clouds, when the seas broke in their fury and threatened to destroy the frail bark under your feet, and when rain, hail, and snow alternately swept through the atmosphere, like showers of keen-pointed arrows—have you, I say, ever contemplated this sublime and impressive scene without acknowledging within yourself how omnipotent was God, and how feeble and insignificant a thing was man?

There is, perhaps, no other place in the world where Nature so combines all her elements to give an emphatic expression to the power and reality of the Divinity, as in the vicinity of this famous old Cape.

The bold, rugged headlands of Patagonia were sighted on the morning of the 4th of December. The wind had subsided a little, but a strong current was setting through the straits, and short, sharp seas, such as are experienced in the Bay of Fundy, indicated the ship's position as clearly as if a good observation had been got. Snow and ice nearly covered the ship, and the men continued to suffer from the cold. There was a feeling of encouragement now that the ship would round the Cape without any further trouble. But before noon a violent snow storm set in, and the bold, bleak hills of Patagonia disappeared from sight. The wind, too, veered ahead again and increased, and the ship had to be headed for the coast of Terra del Fuego, on the other tack.

Early on the following morning the look-out's attention was attracted by large spots of white light—now opening, now shutting—high up in the heavens ahead. It was Tite's watch on deck, and the look-out pointed him to the curious phenomena, which had not before attracted his attention. At the same time a painful and piercing chill seemed to pervade the atmosphere, and to seriously affect the feelings of the men on deck.

Tite watched these curious phenomena for several minutes, without comprehending what they meant. He thereupon called the captain, who came quickly on deck. As soon as his eye caught the gleam of light, he walked aft to the binnacle, and stood watching the compasses for a minute or two.

"There's trouble ahead," he said. "Call Mr. Higgins, and all hands—call them quickly. We are close upon an iceberg."

The first officer and all hands were quickly on deck, ready to obey orders. Every eye on board was now watching in the direction of the light.

"It's an iceberg, and a big one, too, Mr. Higgins. If she strikes it, there's an end of us!" said Captain Bottom, addressing the first officer, who seemed indifferent to the danger that threatened the ship. A rustling noise, as of strong tide-rips breaking ahead, was heard, the sound increasing every minute. The braces were now manned, the order to "go about" given, and the helm put down. But the ship had hardly begun to gather headway on the other tack, when she refused to obey her helm. It seemed, indeed, as if she was under the influence of a powerful attraction, drawing her to destruction.

Another minute and she struck with a deep, crashing sound, that made every timber in her frame vibrate, so great was the shock. A gleam of grey light now began to spread over the fearful scene. It was daylight, that friend which so often comes to the mariner's relief. The ship had struck broad on, and the berg seemed to have grasped her in its arms of death and refused to let her go. Each succeeding sea lifted the helpless ship, and then tossed her with increasing violence against the jagged ice-cliff. And as her yards raked the boulders, huge blocks fell with crushing force on her deck. Stanchions were started, the bulwarks crushed away from the knight-heads to the quarter-deck, on the port side, and the deck stove in several places. It seemed as if there was but a minute between those on board and death. Still the staunch old ship forged ahead, lifting and surging with every sea, and seeming to struggle to free herself from the grasp of the berg. All hope of saving the ship seemed gone now. Both officers and men waited in suspense, expecting, every lurch the ship made, to see her go to pieces.

It was one of those moments when presence of mind and seamanship seem of no avail to save a ship. On sounding the pumps it was found that the ship's hull was still tight, and that she had made but little water. Still she forged ahead, and great blocks of ice continued to fall on her deck.