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

by F. Colburn Adams

When the whale had been taken aboard, the ship, under her new commander, Mr. Higgins, stood away into the North Pacific, where she cruised along the land, in the direction of Behring's Straits, for several weeks. The prospect not seeming to brighten much, Mr. Higgins thought he would try an experiment in what he called "high latitudes," and to that end headed the ship for the Auckland Islands. Now the crew had but little respect for their new commander, and no confidence whatever in his skill as a navigator.

After proceeding in this direction for ten days, one morning about four o'clock the lookout called the attention of the officer of the watch to strange sounds heard close ahead. It resembled the dull, sluggish sound of breakers on shore during a calm. The sounds became louder and seemed to be approaching the ship, but as her reckoning gave no land anywhere near, the cause of the sounds began to excite great alarm. The captain was called and the crew turned out, and an effort made to put the ship on the other tack, but it was of no avail. An almost dead calm prevailed, and the ship refused to obey her helm. In short, the ship was being carried rapidly forward in the grasp of a strong under-current. A heavy fog hung like a pall overhead, enveloping the ship's royals and top-gallant sails; and as the noise increased a strange feeling of awe and fear came over the crew, exciting their superstitions to the highest pitch.

As the ship went on the sounds began to resemble the dashing and surging of a heavy body of water forced by a strong tide through a narrow gorge. Still nothing could be seen of land, which increased the strange sensations produced by so singular a phenomenon. Nothing either crew or officers could do would improve the situation, for in the ship's condition they were as helpless as children. The lead was cast, and sixty fathoms called. It was now evident that there was land close by. But the trail of the line only showed the more clearly that the ship was at the mercy of some rapid and dangerous current, perhaps being drawn into some whirlpool. Now the fog seemed to lift, and long lines of light were seen ahead, but it was only to be succeeded by greater darkness. Then the sounds began to change and vary; and while what seemed voices were heard singing and sighing overhead, the deep rush and roll of waters below had a strange and bewildering effect on the feelings. Now the moon seemed to be rising through the fog ahead, and a pale, white light gleamed for a few seconds, then disappeared, and all was dark again. And as the ship advanced, the bold outline of a high and nearly perpendicular bluff revealed itself above the fog, and had the appearance of hanging directly over the ship. There was no mistaking the danger now. In a few minutes more the ship was between walls of rock three hundred feet high, drifting swiftly through a narrow channel of deep and agitated water into a dark and dangerous cavern.

The ship passed in under full sail; the atmosphere changed and became singularly oppressive; the very blood chilled; fear seized on all on board, and men who a short time before were full of courage and strength now became as helpless as children. The current was less rapid inside, but the noise increased and became even more bewildering; while the barometer would rise and fall quickly, and the compasses became agitated under the influence of some strong magnetic disorder. Every few minutes deep and rumbling sounds would break in the distance, roll along the cavern, and echo and reëcho through the great arches overhead. And these would be succeeded by soft, flute-like voices, mingling in chorus. The effect of this, in so dark and dungeon-like a place, where the mighty hand of Nature had performed one of her wildest freaks, was bewildering in the extreme, and gave wing to the strangest fancies. Hardly a word was spoken; not a brace manned, nor a sheet touched. The ship moved along as if directed by some unseen hand, for there was no wind in that deep, dark cavern. Then the water became broken, and the surface checkered with phosphoric lights, flitting and dancing, like so many sprites on a revel. The arch overhead became covered with a pale light, which seemed to struggle against the darkness; then stars, or what appeared to be stars, were seen, as through a mist. Then they would suddenly change into every variety of color, and reveal the existence of massive columns of basaltic rock supporting the arch. Still the distracting sounds were heard, but no order was given concerning the ship, scarcely a word exchanged between the men. They felt that they were drifting into some unknown sea, perhaps some place of enchantment, where death was certain, and from whence nothing more would ever be heard of them.

Could this be the mermaid's retreat of which the old captain had spoken, and of which the natives on Queen Charlotte's Island had such a strange superstition? Tite thought to himself. All the pleasant associations of home, all that he loved there, and all that he had hoped for, now rose up in his mind like a sweet and beautiful dream, only to be overshadowed by the terrible thoughts this strange and gloomy place had impressed upon him. There was no hope for him now; he felt that he should never enjoy those scenes again. But what was that to the anguish of his poor old parents, who would linger on week after week, month after month, and year after year, wondering and waiting in vain for some news of him, and dying of hope deferred.

While he was thus musing a pale, aurora-like light broke in the distance, directly ahead of the ship. Now it opened gently, now shut again. Again it glimmered and gradually expanded until the whole cavern became aglow with light, and presented a scene of such enchanting beauty that all on board were spell-bound with admiration. Massive columns, grand and impressive, rose on every side to the very roof, and reflected all the colors of the rainbow. And through them the gallant old ship continued to sail, like a phantom.

This bright, bewitching scene continued for about fifteen minutes, when the light gradually died away, and all became dark and solemn. Then deep, plunging sounds of falling water indicated with startling effect that the ship was approaching a mighty cataract, down which she must soon plunge to her destruction. These sounds, made more terrible by the darkness, were like death-knells, calling the men to prepare to meet their doom.

And while all on board were contemplating these sounds, the ship suddenly careened a-starboard, a harsh, grating noise was heard overhead, and quantities of broken crystallites began falling on deck. This was followed by a crashing sound, and the ship righted. The topmasts had fouled, and one after another were carried away and now hung, a dangerous wreck. Then her gib-boom came in contact with one of the columns, and met the same fate. The ship now swung round and struck with a violent shock on a sunken rock, and almost simultaneously her mainmast went by the board, she began to fill and settle down, and soon became a forlorn wreck. A short consultation was held between the officers and men as to what was best to be done. There was, however, no alternative but to take to the boats, and make the best effort possible to save life. There was no time to lose. Five boats were quickly launched, and manned, and supplied with such provisions and water as could be procured in the hurry of the moment. An officer took command of each boat, and Tite managed to secure six of the best oarsmen on board. There was no excitement, no disorder. Everything was done with as much order and regularity as if nothing had occurred to interrupt discipline.

And now when the five boats were ready, and the order given to "pull away," each man seemed to pause and take a last fond look at the old ship, as if a lingering affection caused him to part from her with reluctance. And as they stood taking this last look, the light again broke forth, giving to the strange scene a weird and bewildering effect.

The boats now pulled away, Tite's boat taking the lead. They had agreed to keep together as much as possible, (and to that end made signals at short intervals,) gain the ocean and seek relief along the shore. Darkness soon shut in again, however, and the noises were so bewildering that the signals from the boats could not be understood, and they separated never to meet again.