In two or three hours, my preparations were concluded. The flasks were just large enough to fit snugly in the chasm. Above them, the precipice hung over a little. Half-hidden by the bulwarks of the ship, I fired three bullets from the captain's gun into the projecting mass. Nothing fell. I loaded her again,—fired again, and a great block of ice keeled over and slid down. As fast did I leap down stairs into the cabin, as if I should be safe there. As I landed, I felt the great iceberg tremble; then came a sharp, quick, terrible crash, as if forty thunders had broken all together right over my head, and the great hill of ice sank grandly and slowly into the ocean below. For a minute or two, I could hear the roar of the waters as they opened to receive the huge mass, and the berg rocked as if in a great storm; then all was still again. I rushed back to my cabin, laid the spirit-level on the floor, and the little bubble stopped right in the middle of the tube. The danger was over.
Another week passed; and there was no longer any room to doubt that I was moving, and in the right direction. At the pole, there was never a breath of wind; but now it blew quite strong. The compass began to show signs of vitality; and, at midnight, I could see some of the brightest of the stars. The sun dropped nearer and nearer the horizon every evening, and it was growing uncomfortably warm at mid-day. As I was now getting some information from the sun as to the points of the compass, I set up a vane on the deck, in order to find out, from day to day, the direction of the wind. This put another idea into my head. Couldn't I do something to help the old berg along? Why couldn't the spare masts and sails, that lay along the sides of the deck, be put to some use? The foremast of the ship was broken off about fifteen feet from the level of the deck, and I went to work to splice on a jury-mast. It was slow and pretty hard work. I had to arrange the blocks and tackles in the most scientific manner, in order to lift the heavy timber to its place; and it required a great deal of strength to bring the ropes around the fore and jury-mast, so as to bind them securely together. I then managed to rig a yard to the mast, and, in the course of another day, had quite a respectable sail set. The day after, I got up a jib, and then crowned the whole by hoisting the American flag to the top of the mast. I did not keep this flying all the time, but reserved it for great occasions.
Here then, was a novel sight,—a great iceberg under sail, and protected by the stars and stripes. Whether it helped us along or not, I am unable to say: but it was a satisfaction for me to feel that I had done what I could; and it gave me pleasure to go off a little distance, and look at the extraordinary spectacle. I could not help laughing to think what the old salts would say, when I got down amongst the whalers and explorers, at the sight of an iceberg under sail!
I have nothing more to tell of my adventures in the arctic seas. About the middle of September, I had reached the more frequented parts of the ocean, and every day was on the lookout for some friendly barque, to liberate me from my dreary solitude. For months I had not heard the sound of a human voice, and I began to long for the society of my fellow-men. Every morning I posted myself, with a spy-glass, on the highest peak of the berg, searching the horizon for a sail. My situation on the deck was becoming every hour more and more precarious. The melting of the ice underneath had already caused the stern to incline very decidedly towards the inclined plane that led down to the ocean; and I felt that the slightest jar might, at any time, precipitate the whole concern, myself included, into the sea. I suppose, indeed, that nothing but the counteracting influence of the sails, which filled in the opposite direction, had prevented this catastrophe.
At last, after many a long and weary watch, I descried, in the far-off distance, a sail; but the vessel moved off towards the horizon, and was soon lost to sight. It was a bitter disappointment; and still I thought that wherever one ship was sailing, others would be likely to come in sight before long. I kept the flag flying now all the time, and hardly ventured to sleep at all, lest some vessel might pass by unnoticed. On the twenty-fifth of September, as I woke from a short and broken slumber, I descried, not more than two miles off, a ship, heading directly for the berg. As soon as she was near enough for the signal to be observed, I lowered and hoisted my flag five or six times in quick succession; and, to my joy, I saw the signal answered. It was all right now: the only question to be solved was, as to the manner in which I would get on board the vessel. I anticipated that they would not venture to bring the ship alongside of the berg, but would probably put out a long-boat for my rescue. As soon as that came within hailing distance, I would establish communication with the crew; and, between us all, I did not doubt but some way would be found for me to escape. In a short time, as I had foreseen, the ship lay to; and the boat came off, and was rowed to the foot of the inclined plane. I never saw a more astonished set of men in my life. They were staring at me and my extraordinary craft, as if their eyes would start from the sockets; and the coxswain rose and shouted,—
"Ahoy, up there! who are you?"
"John Whopper," I replied, "eldest son of the Widow Whopper, now residing in Roxbury, Mass., U. S. of America."
"Gracious me!" cried one of the men, "I know Widow Whopper."
"I hope you left her well?"
"Much as usual," the sailor replied.