Fast in the Ice | Page 3

resolved to buy a vessel and send it to the seas lying
within the Arctic circle. Other rich friends helped them; a brig was
bought, it was named the Hope, and, as we have seen in the last chapter,
it finally set sail under command of Captain Harvey.
Many days and nights passed, and the Hope kept her course steadily
toward the coast of North America. Greenland was the first land they
hoped to see. Baffin's Bay was the strait through which they hoped to
reach the open polar sea.
The Hope left England as a whaler, with all the boats, lances, harpoons,
lines, and other apparatus used in the whale fishery. It was intended
that she should do a little business in that way if Captain Harvey
thought it advisable, but the discovery of new lands and seas was their
chief end and aim.
At first the weather was fine, the wind fair, and the voyage prosperous.
But one night there came a deep calm. Not a breath of air moved over
the sea, which was as clear and polished as a looking-glass. The captain
walked the deck with the surgeon of the ship, a nephew of his own,
named Gregory.
Tom Gregory was a youth of about nineteen, who had not passed
through the whole course of a doctor's education, but who was a clever
fellow, and better able to cut and carve and physic poor suffering
humanity than many an older man who wrote M.D. after his name. He
was a fine, handsome, strapping fellow, with a determined manner and
a kind heart. He was able to pull an oar with the best man aboard, and
could even steer the brig in fine weather, if need be. He was hearty and
romantic, and a great favourite with the men. He, too, was a restless
spirit. He had grown tired of college life, and had made up his mind to

take a year's run into the Polar regions, by way of improving his
knowledge of the "outlandish" parts of the world.
"I don't like the look of the sky to-day, Tom," said the captain, glancing
at the horizon and then at the sails.
"Indeed!" said Tom, in surprise. "It seems to me the most beautiful
afternoon we have had since the voyage began. But I suppose you
seamen are learned in signs which we landsmen do not understand."
"Perhaps we are," replied the captain; "but it does not require much
knowledge of the weather to say that such a dead calm as this, and such
unusual heat, is not likely to end in a gentle breeze."
"You don't object to a stiff breeze, uncle?" said the youth.
"No, Tom; but I don't like a storm, because it does us no good, and may
do us harm."
"Storms do you no good, uncle!" cried Tom; "how can you say so?
Why, what is it that makes our sailors such trumps? The British tar
would not be able to face danger as he does if there were no storms."
"True, Tom, but the British tar would not require to face danger at all if
there were no storms. What says the barometer, Mr Mansell?" said the
captain, looking down the skylight into the cabin, where the first
mate--a middle-sized man of thirty-five, or thereabouts--was seated at
the table writing up the ship's log-book.
"The glass has gone down an inch, sir, and is still falling," answered the
mate.
"Reef the topsail, Mr Dicey," cried the captain, on hearing this.
"Why such haste?" inquired Gregory.
"Because such a sudden fall in the barometer is a sure sign of
approaching bad weather," answered the captain.

The first man on the shrouds and out upon the main-topsail yard was
Sam Baker, whose active movements and hearty manner showed that
he had quite recovered his health without the use of physic. He was
quickly followed by some of his shipmates, all of whom were picked
men--able in body and ready for anything.
In a few minutes sail was reduced. Soon after that clouds began to rise
on the horizon and spread over the sky. Before half an hour had passed
the breeze came--came far stronger than had been expected--and the
order to take in sail had to be repeated. Baker was first again. He was
closely followed by Joe Davis and Jim Croft, both of them sturdy
fellows--good specimens of the British seaman. Davy Butts, who came
next, was not so good a specimen. He was nearly six feet high, very
thin and loosely put together, like a piece of bad furniture. But his
bones were big, and he was stronger than he looked. He would not have
formed one of such a crew had he not been a good man. The rest of the
crew,