“It will be impossible to reach her,” answered the captain; “there is no lane leading in that direction. If you attempt to cross the ice it may open at any moment, giving you little chance of escaping with your lives.”
Still Andrew entreated that he might go, and proposed making an expedition, three or four of us joining ourselves together by a long rope. We consulted the boatswain, who at once volunteered to form one of the party, as did Ewen and Croil. The captain, after ascending to the crow’s nest to examine the ice, gave us leave, and allowed us to take one of the boats which would carry us part of the way, charging us, however, not to delay a moment longer than was necessary. Quickly procuring a long rope, we jumped into the boat and pulled ahead of the ship, along a lane which opened out to the eastward. Our further progress was soon stopped. Having fastened ourselves together at the distance of four or five fathoms, each provided with a long pole, we leapt on the ice, Sandy taking the lead, we three lighter ones followed, and my brother brought up the rear. We had some hummocks to climb over, but generally the surface was level, and we made rapid progress, but still the sloop appeared much farther off than I had supposed. I saw Sandy try the ice when he was doubtful of its consistency, as he went along; but, satisfied that it would bear him and consequently any of us, he pushed forward.
I eagerly looked out expecting to see some people appear on the deck of the sloop. As we drew nearer I uttered a loud shout in which my companions joined, but no one replied. Could all those on board be dead, or had she, as the captain supposed, been deserted? I asked myself; and the dread seized me that we should find David frozen or starved to death. Such things had too often occurred before, and might have happened in this instance. In my eagerness I could not help shouting to Sandy to go on faster.
“More speed the less chance we shall have of getting there, my boy,” he answered, stopping to strike the ice in front of him with his pole. He drove it through. “There, you and I should probably have had a cold bath,” he observed as he turned aside to find more secure footing.
We had to make a considerable round to a sort of bridge, where two floes had overlapped. We crossed safely, and now the sloop appeared not a quarter of a mile ahead, her dark hull partly heeling over, and her shattered mast standing out sharply against the white back-ground. The distance was soon passed over. Once more we shouted out before we began to clamber on her deck. Sandy and I, being the first up, eagerly looked down into her after cabin. It was half full of water. No one could be seen; so hurrying on to the other hatchways, we peered down them. It was tolerably evident that no one, alive or dead, was there. So far, then, our worst fears were not realised.
“Look here!” said Sandy to me, “the crew may have made their escape in their boats and have been picked up by another craft. See, the sails are unbent and all the ropes carried off. If it was worth while getting a wetting we should find that nothing remains of value below, either fore or aft.”
That such was the case, a further examination fully convinced us. Still Andrew and I would have been thankful if we could have discovered some traces of our brother, should this have been the sloop he had got on board. The boatswain, however, remarked that numbers of vessels of the same description came northward during the summer, that it was just as likely he had never set foot on her deck, and that we might find he had got home safe before us.
According to our promise, the instant our inspection was over, we commenced our return journey. As the ice was becoming firm, we cast off the ropes and separated from one another, each man taking his own course. I thus got to a considerable distance from my companions. I was still some way off the edge of the floe, though in sight of the ship, and could make out the boat approaching to take us off, when up started from behind a hummock a huge polar bear, which probably mistook me for a walrus or seal, and therefore its lawful prey. My first impulse was to run, instead of Standing still and facing my enemy as I ought to have done. I had very nearly gained the edge when what was my horror to see that the bear was within twenty paces of me. A glance round showed me the boat, still some way off, while my companions were at too great a distance to afford me assistance. I now did what I should have done at first, stopped and rammed a bullet into my rifle. The bear stopped also, sitting up on its haunches, to examine me more particularly. Could I have got off my shaggy coat, I would have thrown it at him, to attract his attention, for I guessed his next movement would be to bound upon me and press me in his terrific embrace. All I could do, however, was to throw my cap at him, when, dropping down on all fours, he began to smell at it. Now was my time to fire a shot which I hoped might kill him. Should I miss, I knew too well that I had not the remotest chance of escape. Mustering all my nerve, I levelled my rifle and pulled the trigger. The bullet must have gone through his brain, for, without making another move, he rolled over and giving one struggle was dead.
I should have fallen on the ice and rendered thanks to heaven for my preservation, but in reality I could not for some seconds move a muscle. I could scarcely persuade myself that the huge monster, which had just before appeared so terrible, was now a mass of flesh.
The shouts of my companions in the boat who had seen the occurrence aroused me, and, soon arriving, with the rest of the party, they hauled the huge carcase on board the boat, and we returned in triumph to the ship.