A Close Call Off Herald Island
All day long the frightened ships scurried up and down the ice barrier without finding an opening. They ran to the westward. There was no escape there. They flew back to the east. An ice wall confronted them. The case seemed hopeless. The panic of the captains became more and more evident. If a ship hurried off in any direction, the other ships flocked after her like so many scared sheep. Morning and afternoon passed in this wild search for an outlet. Night was coming on.
A bark squared her yards and shot away to the southeast. It was the Sea Breeze. When the others expected her to tack, she did no such thing, but kept going straight ahead. On she went alone, far from the fleet. It was exciting to watch that single ship flying eastward. What could it mean? Had she found an opening? The other ships turned their prows after her, one by one. A long line of vessels soon was careering in the wake of the Sea Breeze. She had dwindled to a little ship in the far distance when at last we saw her break out the American colors at her mizzen peak. Every man aboard the brig gave a cheer. Cheers from the other ships came across the water. It meant that the Sea Breeze was clear.
She had found a lead that suddenly had opened through the eastern ice strip, as leads will open in drifting floes. The lead was not entirely clear. A narrow strip of ice lay across it. The Sea Breeze butted through this strip and sailed on to freedom. The other vessels followed. Our brig was the tenth ship to pass through. As we negotiated the narrow passage, the ice was so close on both sides we could have leaped upon it from the bulwarks. It was with a joyous sense of escape that we cleared the pack and swung once more on the open sea. Soon after the last ship of the fleet had bumped her way to safety the ice closed solidly behind.
[CHAPTER XX]
A RACE AND A RACE HORSE