Beyond the Great South Wall: The Secret of the Antarctic

by Frank Savile

He explained when taken to task on the subject that he belonged to that gathering of the elect the Cercle des Patineurs, though as yet he had not attained the style which he desired to affect, and was in consequence unable to cut the figure he would like in the beau monde. Now he thought an opportunity of instructing himself in this health-giving and aristocratic pursuit would be afforded him. He would be able to win the plaudits of all on his return, for, let us mark, he had brought with him a book of self-instruction on the subject, and would perfect himself in intricacies unbelievable. Yes, it would not do to spend the whole of the time on industry; we must not let our search deprive us of all thoughts of relaxation. At times he would unbend—he would sport. As an exercise this skating, let us remember, was without a peer.

Careless of our rude pleasantries, he proceeded to unveil further treasures. He had a perfect armory of offensive and defensive weapons. Bowie-knives were sown throughout his baggage like plums in a pudding. Revolvers decorated his cabin walls in pairs. A rifle flanked a shot-gun on each side of his cot. A tomahawk was precariously affixed to the deck above, whence it fell perilously every time we broached to between the great Atlantic surges. It was evident he was prepared for the worst that the future might have in store.

We rallied him gently on his warlike preparations, but he met us with logical arguments. It was understood, was it not, that we went to discover a new people. Let the memory of the old conquistadores be in our hearts. By the magic of their perfected weapons they had prevailed upon the ancestors of this very people we went to seek, and from them we might learn a lesson. It was not to be expected that we should be greeted peacefully at first. A display of force—only a display, let us certainly hope—would be necessary. He, Emil Saiger Lessaution, would give that display, and inaugurate a reconstruction of their mediæval empire. Met by a dispute of his data, in that we refused to acknowledge the possibility of any such race surviving in the desolation of the Antarctic, he turned our flank by remarking happily, that at any rate animals of a ferocious disposition would abound, and would need to be captured or quelled. He promised himself many trophies of fur and feather, which would make the eyes of members of the shooting club he patronized bulge out with envy.

Gerry had brought a pair of guns and a rifle, with some vague idea of sealing, and found encouragement therein from Mr. Rafferty, who had sailed in whalers. I gave it to be understood, however, that I did not purpose wasting time in the chase, and should not allow us to stay our course short of our destination. One circumstance, however, came to light, which turned the laugh strongly against the Frenchman. It was while he was examining with a depreciatory air Gerry’s guns, that it suddenly occurred to him that with all his store of weapons, he had no means of loading them. In the excitement of departure he had left all such practicalities as cartridges to the last, being filled with the loftiest ideas for using them. The consequence was that he was absolutely dependent on Gerry’s slender store, and Gerry, with all the good nature in the world, found that the barrels were of different bore, his being twelve and the Professor’s sixteen. After which discovery we had a morning’s unavailing gnashing of teeth, and then the little man forgot his troubles in a new excitement.

This was the first ice. We had sighted Bovet’s Island a few days before, when we saw it—a solemn, stately ice-hill, floating along island-like on a calm and unrippled sea. There’s something rather overpowering and awesome about a big berg. The deathly blue-whiteness of it, the silence that broods about it, the great grottoes that pierce its sides like tombs of the lost, the glassy radiance that does not cheer but repels one—these things have a very depressing effect on me. I realized for the first time the sort of business we were going in for, and confessed to myself that a very little of this sort of thing would go a very long way. But it acted on the Professor’s spirits in quite another manner.

We had rigged the crow’s-nest the day before, and he was up in it before you could wink an eye. He leaned out over the edge of this eyrie, waggling his hands ecstatically, and singing songs of victory, welcoming this indication that we were approaching our goal with a hubbub that resounded indecently among the echoes of the bergs.

That was the only one we saw that evening, but next morning there were rows and rows of them, great pyramids of sheeny white, coming along in stately columns and companies, overhanging the blue sea, crashing now and again against each other, and hustling and grinding the floe-ice that dotted the wide sea-lanes between.

We steamed cautiously down the aisles, dodging from one sheet of open water to another. Now and again some unsteady pinnacle, loosening from the side of its parent berg in the heat of the sun, would plunge thunderously down the smooth slopes, and roar into the sea, sending great waves of curling foam to right and left, the rainbow rays dancing in the flying spray. The cascades poured continually from basin to basin in the laps of the ice-hills, tinkling and plashing as they fell. Here and there, on the bare, smooth base of some mighty piece of glacier, rows of seals lay and basked in the sun, staring at us as we slid by them with stupid, curious, brown eyes. Every now and again a sea-lion rose with a snort from some pool beneath the shadow of the shining crags, and played and tossed happily among the ripples. The birds, tame as chickens, unaccustomed to the sight of men, flew and swung and whirled and circled above us in clouds, tern wailing to tern, and gull to gull in plaintive outcry. And over all the sun shone with the strength of the Antarctic summer, now just beginning in its full vigor and brightness.

It certainly was an uplifting day, and quite swept out of my head the despondent horrors of the evening before. I climbed to the crow’s-nest with Lessaution, and stayed beside him there hour after hour, drinking in all the glories of the scene, and listening lazily to his babble, taking pleasure in the mere joy of living.

We rolled slowly down the lessening passages all that day, and at sunset lay to with springs on our cables, for the floe-ice surged upon us ceaselessly, making it too dangerous to charge in among the pack without the help of daylight. In fact, we had to keep watch and watch about and fend off with poles, as the great splinters tangled round us, and ride out and back more than once as a berg moved upon us ponderously.