The perils of the situation were magnified by the grim nature of the surroundings, for if the Polarity had sustained a mortal blow the whole of her crew were doomed. It might be possible to take to the boats, but that would only prolong the agony. No human being could survive a lengthy voyage in an open boat in that Arctic weather.
As the lads were picking themselves up, Paul Travers bumped heavily into them. The second officer was on his way for'ard to ascertain the nature of the damage.
"It's all right, sir!" he shouted. "She's not making any water. The stem is twisted a bit, and the bow plates are slightly buckled above the water-line."
Captain Stormleigh heaved a sigh of relief. He was a brave seaman, but the perils of a fog at sea he dreaded, more especially in the present case. Having escaped lightly this time, he decided to back astern for at least a couple of miles and lay to until the fog lifted.
"Berg astern, sir!" shouted one of the seamen, who was stationed right aft.
The Polarity, having hit a berg when travelling ahead, was now in danger of hitting another when going astern.
Again the telegraph-bell clanged. This time the ship's way was more readily stopped, since her speed astern was barely two knots.
"How's that, Captain Stormleigh?" asked a voice, which Leslie and Guy recognised as that of Mr. Ranworth. "If we are retracing our course, how is it that we missed this berg before?"
"Can't say, sir," replied Captain Stormleigh abruptly. He was but dimly conscious of the question; his whole attention was centred upon the perils that beset him.
Slowly the ship forged ahead, this time circling to starboard. Five minutes later came a warning shout: