The Voyages of the "Ranger" and "Crusader" / And what befell their Passengers and Crews.

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“To your stations, men,” shouted Commander Newcombe. “We are not going to lose the ship yet.”

The officers hurrying among the men soon brought them back to a sense of their duty. It was found, however, that the damage the ship had received was very severe. The rudder had been torn from its position; the starboard tiller rope had been carried away, and the neck of the rudder was wrenched off so as to render it unserviceable. Believing tackles were at once applied to the tiller, in hopes that the rudder might be made to work; but after several attempts it was found to be utterly useless. In vain were the yards braced round. Without the use of the rudder the ship could not be got sufficiently off to give her head-way. Slowly she continued to drive towards the monstrous berg, which threatened, should she strike it, to overwhelm her in an instant.

“A slight shift of wind would take her off,” observed the first-lieutenant to the commander.

“I pray that it may come, then,” was the answer.

Again and again the ship struck, evidently on each occasion receiving fearful damage. The soldiers who had been stationed at the pumps had knocked off, forgetting their duty in their alarm, when the ship first struck. The officers now went among them, and urged them to return; Colonel Morley had himself, however, to go before his orders were obeyed. The carpenter, who had been sent to sound the well, reported two feet in the hold. “We may keep that under,” observed the commander, “if the men do their duty.”

Mrs Rumbelow was not idle all this time. She had been from the first tending to the other women; but when she found that the men were inclined not to obey orders, she was in their midst in an instant. “What, my lads!” she exclaimed; “is this like you, to let the ship sink with your wives and children, and the good colonel, and his lady and daughters, and not do your best to keep her afloat? Shame on you! I would not have believed it if it had been told me!” In another moment the pumps were heard clanking away, and sending out the water as rapidly as before.

The ship was moving at a fearfully rapid rate towards the side of the vast iceberg. The crew, after the first alarm had subsided, exerted themselves manfully, and arrangements were being made for the dreaded encounter. Spars were got out and secured to the sides and quarters, but still some hope remained that the wind might catch her headsails, and pay her off in time to avoid it. Every instant, however, that hope lessened, and on she drove, stern foremost, till the summit of the berg appeared almost overhead. Close at hand was seen, between two bluffs, a vast cavern, into which it seemed more than probable that the ship would drive, and if so, her escape would be impossible.

Such moments try the stoutest hearts. Many countenances became pale, and some eyes were turned away from the danger; but the commander and officers faced it boldly, while the crew remained steadily at their stations. Willy Dicey fully understood the terrific danger in which they were placed. He looked at the blue sky, at the sun shining brightly, at the waters dancing gaily, and he thought of the loved ones at home, and of the little prospect which existed of their ever hearing of him again. But, boy though he was, even his young heart did not quail; he was at the post of duty, he knew that; and he knew that there was One all-powerful watching over him, who would carry him safely through the danger, if He thought fit.

Nearer and nearer the “Ranger” drew to the iceberg—the bravest held their breath as they saw that she must inevitably strike. Then came a fearful crash. So perpendicular was the side of the berg that the stern davits drove right against it. The stern boat was crushed in, a portion of the taffrail and the upper part of the spar-deck bulwarks wrenched off. It seemed as if the whole stern of the ship was about to be carried away. Her larboard quarter next came in contact with the ice, but the severity of the shock saved her; for after the damage which has been described was received, she again bounded off with a cant to starboard. The jib was instantly run up, and it and the other headsails catching the wind, away she glided from the berg. Those who had their eyes turned aft, however, could not refrain from uttering a cry of horror, for at that instant the berg, shaken by the concussion, threatened to fall over and crush them. From its summit down came rushing an avalanche of ice and snow, a portion of the mass even striking the poop. Still the ship glided on; the after-sails were trimmed, and again she was clear of another threatened danger. Yet, with the rudder gone, her stern crushed in, with numberless rents in her side, and two of her masts carried away, the “Ranger” was indeed in a perilous condition.

The first thing to be done was to get the rudder repaired. The breeze had increased, and rendered the operation difficult. The weather, too, had far from a satisfactory appearance. Whatever Commander Newcombe thought of the prospect of ultimately saving the ship, he was not the man to relax in his efforts till the last. It was no easy matter to steer the ship while the rudder was being repaired; the only means of doing so was by keeping the yards swinging to and fro, in order to direct the ship’s head towards the opening between the bergs.