I was soon dragged on board the boat, and on reaching the deck of the Leda, fainted, after all I had undergone, and the joy of escaping a death so terrible. The last sounds I remember were the voice of Hartly welcoming me, and the jarring of the yards and braces, as the foreyards were filled, and the brig payed off bravely before the gentle breeze.
Of my unfortunate companions, no trace was ever seen!
CHAPTER XXI.
CAPE FAREWELL.
For three days our course was encumbered by masses of broken ice, which seemed to crowd upon and follow us; thus the brig was constantly being put about or thrown in the wind, backing and filling to avoid the large floes and calves, as those treacherous pieces of sunken or detached ice which suddenly rush to the surface are named. To avoid the lesser floes, we had often to carry a warp to a large one, and track along its side. The cheerful voice of Hartly might always be heard encouraging the faint and weary on these occasions.
"Now, my lads—tally on! bowse away upon the guess-warp!"
"Hurrah!" the men would answer, as they pulled together vigorously.
"Once more we are afloat, Jack," said he to me, on the third morning. "I began to fear we should berth all our ship's company in the ice that lay on the starboard bow; but now we may sit cosily in the cabin, as of yore, and learn how her head lies by the tell-tale compass that swings in the skylight."
Again at sea, our sick recovered as if by a miracle; but still many antidotes against scurvy were requisite before we could haul up for the long voyage that lay between us and St. John. I caught a few fish, and they formed a delicious change for Cuffy's fricasees of odious blubber, served up half cold in a greasy mess-kid.
Once more there was a reckoning to keep. For a few cloudy days we had merely kept a dead one, by log and compass; but on making a solar observation, Hartly and Reeves found that they were many hundred miles eastward of where they expected to be; and this was a circumstance over which they had no control.