The World of Ice

by R. M. Ballantyne

Fred Ellice, too, thought of his father, and this abrupt check to the search, and his spirits sank again as his hopes decayed. But poor Fred, like the others, at last discovered that it was of no use to repine, and that it was best to face his sorrows and difficulties “like a man!”

Among so many men there were all shades of character, and the fact that they were doomed to a year’s imprisonment in the frozen regions was received in very different ways. Some looked grave and thought of it seriously; others laughed and treated it lightly; a few grumbled and spoke profanely, but most of them became quickly reconciled, and in a week or two nearly all forgot the past and the future in the duties, and cares, and amusements of the present. Captain Guy and his officers, however, and a few of the more sedate men, among whom were Buzzby and Peter Grim, looked forward with much anxiety, knowing full well the dangers and trials that lay before them.

It is true the ship was provisioned for more than a year, but most of the provisions were salt, and Tom Singleton could have told them, had they required to be told, that without fresh provisions they stood a poor chance of escaping that dire disease, scurvy, before which have fallen so many gallant tars whom nothing in the shape of dangers or difficulties could subdue. There were, indeed, myriads of wild fowl flying about the ship, on which the men feasted and grew fat every day; and the muskets of Meetuck, and those who accompanied him, seldom failed to supply the ship with an abundance of the flesh of seals, walrus, and polar bears, portions of all of which creatures were considered very good indeed by the men, and particularly by the dogs, which grew so fat that they began to acquire a very disreputable waddle in their gait as they walked the deck for exercise, which they seldom did, by the way, being passionately fond of sleep! But birds and, perchance, beasts might be expected to take themselves off when the winter arrived, and leave the crew without fresh food.

Then, although the Dolphin was supplied with every necessary for a whaling expedition, and with many luxuries besides, she was ill-provided with the supplies that men deem absolutely indispensable for a winter in the Arctic regions, where the cold is so bitterly intense that, after a prolonged sojourn, men’s minds become almost entirely engrossed by two clamant demands of nature—food and heat. They had only a small quantity of coal on board, and nothing except a few extra spars that could be used as a substitute, while the bleak shores afforded neither shrub nor tree of any kind. Meanwhile they had a sufficiency of everything they required for at least two or three months to come, and for the rest as Grim said, they had “stout hearts and strong arms.”

As soon as it became apparent that they were to winter in the bay, which the captain named the Bay of Mercy, all further attempt to extricate the ship was abandoned, and every preparation for spending the winter was begun and carried out vigorously. It was now that Captain Guy’s qualities as a leader began to be displayed. He knew, from long experience and observation, that in order to keep up the morale of any body of men it was absolutely necessary to maintain the strictest discipline. Indeed this rule is so universal in its application that many men find it advantageous to impose strict rules on themselves in the regulation of their time and affairs, in order to keep their own spirits under command. One of the captain’s first resolves, therefore, was to call the men together and address them on this subject, and he seized the occasion of the first Sabbath morning they spent in the Bay of Mercy, when the crew were assembled on the quarterdeck, to speak to them.

It was an exceedingly bright day. Captain Guy stood up, and, in an earnest, firm tone, said:—

“My lads, I consider it my duty to say a few plain words to you in reference to our present situation and prospects. I feel that the responsibility of having brought you here rests very much upon myself, and I deem it my solemn duty, in more than the ordinary sense, to do all I can to get you out of the ice again. You know as well as I do that this is impossible at the present time, and that we are compelled to spend a winter here. Some of you know what that means, but the most of you know it only by hearsay, and that’s much the same as knowing nothing about it at all. Before the winter is done your energies and endurance will probably be taxed to the uttermost. I think it right to be candid with you. The life before you will not be child’s-play, but I assure you that it may be mingled with much that will be pleasant and hearty if you choose to set about it in the right way. Well, then, to be short about it. There is no chance whatever of our getting through the winter in this ship comfortably, or even safely, unless the strictest discipline is maintained aboard. I know, for I’ve been in similar circumstances before, that when cold and hunger, and, it may be, sickness, press upon us—should it please the Almighty to send these on us in great severity—you will feel duty to be irksome, and you’ll think it useless, and perhaps be tempted to mutiny. Now I ask you solemnly, while your minds are clear from all prejudices, each individually to sign a written code of laws, and a written promise that you will obey the same, and help me to enforce them even with the punishment of death, if need be. Now, lads, will you agree to that?”

“Agreed, agreed!” cried the men at once, and in a tone of prompt decision that convinced their leader he had their entire confidence—a matter of the highest importance in the critical circumstances in which they were placed.

“Well, then, I’ll read the rules; they are few, but sufficiently comprehensive.

“First. Prayers shall be read every morning before breakfast, unless circumstances render it impossible to do so.”