This plan was agreed to; by going round the hummock we could see the ship, though she appeared a long way off. We hoped, however, by returning with so valuable a prize, we should be excused for having gone further than we ought to have done. We found that it was no easy matter to drag along the huge carcase over the ice, even where the surface of the floe was perfectly smooth. At last we had to give up the task, but how we were to find our way back to where we had left the bear was the difficulty, as the fur could not be distinguished at any great distance. At last Croil produced a red handkerchief from his pocket, which we secured to the end of a pole we had carried for the purpose of trying the ice. He then stuck it through the bear’s body, with the iron head fixed in the ice. Though the bear could not be seen, the handkerchief could be distinguished at a long distance off. We were pretty well tired when we got back to the ship, and the captain was beginning to find fault with us for having gone so far, when we told him of the bear, and he immediately sent four hands, under the command of Sandy, to bring it in, or at all events the skin, and as much of his flesh as they could carry. We three offered to set off with them, but I was secretly not sorry when the captain remarked that we had taken enough exercise for one day, and ordered us to go below and get some rest.
It was getting dark when Sandy’s party returned with our prize, cut up, however, into bits. They were received with a cordial welcome, as all hands were glad to get some fresh meat, which we had not tasted for many a long day.
Chapter Six.
Pretty well tired with the day’s exertions, I turned into my berth. Silence reigned round the ship: not a sea-bird’s cry, not the slightest sound from the ice reached us. I dreamed that I was once more at home, climbing over the heathery hills of my native land, when I felt the ship heaving and rolling, her stout timbers creaking and groaning, as blow after blow was dealt on her sides and bows, while noises resembling shrieks and howls came from every direction, filling the air.
Slipping into my clothes I rushed on deck, where everyone else had gone. Dawn had broken. A furious gale was blowing, and the ice, as far as the eye could reach, was in violent commotion, while long lanes or broad pools were opening out to the westward and southward. The captain ordered as much sail as the ship could carry to be set.
“We may yet get free, lads!” he cried.
The announcement was received by shouts from the crew. They were willing to encounter the onslaught of the floes, so that we could force our way out through their midst into open water. The captain or Mr Patterson were constantly aloft looking out for leads, but I observed that in spite of their anxiety to find these openings to the southward, the ship’s head was generally pointed to the west. At any moment, however, we might find a channel open to the southward. We had long lost sight of the coast of Spitzbergen, and were approaching that of Greenland. Sometimes the lines led us even more to the northward, towards some wide pool, from which no other channel was seen by which we might escape to the open ocean. The course of the ship reminded me of that of a hare, turning now to one side, now to the other, in her attempt to escape from the dogs. Frequently we rushed against the ice with a force which made every timber quiver. But the stout bows were prepared for the shock, and the ice bounded off and the way was clear.