I managed to utter “The ship.”
“She’s all right,” he returned; “she managed to weather the berg, and is now brought up to leeward of the floe, but she had a narrow scrape of it, and we thought for certain that she’d be knocked to pieces.”
My mind felt greatly relieved, but Sandy having to attend to the steering of the boat I could not again attract his attention. I was anxious to know what had become of the boat. I did not suppose it possible that she could have escaped. After some time I managed to utter the word “boat” loud enough for him to hear me.
“It is a sad business, the poor fellows are all lost. We saw the wreck dashing against the base of the floe, and that drew our attention to you. Although we saw you at a distance we at first took you for a seal.”
I asked no further questions. Some twenty minutes or more passed away before we reached the side of the ship. It was surprising that during the time I did not perish from cold. I was hoisted on board, and Andrew had me carried below immediately and put to bed with warm appliances to my feet and chest. At first I suffered great pain, but at length I began to feel a sensation of comfort and dropped off to sleep. I afterwards found that Sandy’s boat had not gone back to the ship as I supposed, but that the foggy weather clearing off she had got under weigh, hoping to find some channel, and that she had discovered the one we were attempting to pass through when the mass of ice had fallen upon us.
On awaking I felt greatly recovered, but my brother would not allow me to leave my bed. I observed that he looked very grave. I inquired if anything had happened.
“The loss of the first mate and the boat’s crew is a serious matter,” he answered, “but our own position is critical in the extreme. We have failed to get through among the icebergs, and are now passing through a lead to the westward. It is possible that we may get out by it, but if not we shall, too probably, be beset for the winter.”
“We’ll get through, doctor, don’t be cast down,” exclaimed the captain, who had overheard my brother’s remark. “We must keep up the spirits of the men, they’re rather low at having lost so many of our shipmates.”
I knew from the sounds that the ship was still making way. Sooner than Andrew had expected I was all to rights. On once more going on deck, I found that the captain was in the crow’s nest, looking out for a further lead, of which, from where I stood, nothing could be seen. There were a few water-holes and openings in the ice, none of them, except the one in which we floated, being wide enough to admit the ship. The sun was sinking towards the horizon, and a night of three hours’ duration was approaching. The captain on coming down ordered the ice-anchors to be carried to the floe to windward, and the ship to be made fast.