There was a small bay in the berg. Into this the brig was warped, and for some time she lay safely here. It was just large enough to hold her, and a long tongue of ice, projecting from the foot of it, kept off the pressure of the sea-ice. Nevertheless a look of anxiety rested on the captain’s face after the ice-anchors had been made fast.
“You don’t seem to like our position, captain,” said young Gregory, who had been watching the doings of the men and now and then lent them a hand.
“I don’t, Tom. The pack is closing tight up, and this berg may prove an enemy instead of a friend, if it forces into our harbour here. Let us hear what our mate thinks of it. What say you, Mr Mansell, shall we hold on here, or warp out and take our chance in the pack?”
“Better hold on, sir,” answered the mate gravely. “The pack is beginning to grind; we should get a tight embrace, I fear, if we went out. Here we may do well enough; but everything depends on that tongue.”
He looked as he spoke toward the point of ice which extended in front of the brig’s stern, and guarded the harbour from the outer ice in that direction. The tongue was not a large one, and it was doubtful whether it could stand the pressure that was increasing every minute.
The pack was indeed beginning to “grind,” as the mate had said, for, while they were looking at it, the edges of two floes came together with a crash about fifty yards from the berg. They ground together for a moment with a harsh growling sound, and then the two edges were suddenly forced up to a height of about fifteen or twenty feet. Next moment they fell on the closed-up ice, and lay there in a mound, or hummock, of broken masses.
“That’s how a ’ummuck is formed, Dr Gregory,” said Mr Dicey, looking uncommonly wise. “You’ll see more things here in five minutes, by means of your own eyes, than ye could learn from books in a year. There’s nothin’ like seein’. Seein’ is believin’, you know. I wouldn’t give an ounce of experience for a ton of hearsay.”
“Come, Mr Dicey, don’t run down book-learning,” said Gregory. “If a man only knew about things that he had seen, he would know very little.”
Before the second mate could reply the captain shouted to the men to “Bear a hand with the ice-poles.” The whole crew answered to the call, and each man, seizing a long pole, stood ready for action.
The tongue to which I have referred more than once had broken off, and the ice was rushing in. The bay was full in a minute, and although the men used their ice-poles actively, and worked with a will, they could not shove the pieces past them. The Hope was driven bow on to the berg. Then there was a strain, a terrible creaking and groaning of the timbers, as if the good little vessel were complaining of the pressure. All at once there was a loud crack, the bow of the brig lifted a little, and she was forced violently up the sloping side of the berg. Twice this happened, and then she remained stationary—high and dry out of the water!