Fast in the Ice | Page 4

of whom there were eighteen, not including the officers, were of
all shapes, sizes, and complexions.
The sails had scarcely been taken in when the storm burst on the brig in
all its fury. The waves rose like mountains and followed after her, as if
they were eager to swallow her up. The sky grew dark overhead as the
night closed in, the wind shrieked through the rigging, and the rag of
canvas that they ventured to hoist seemed about to burst away from the
yard. It was an awful night. Such a night as causes even reckless men to
feel how helpless they are--how dependent on the arm of God. The gale
steadily increased until near midnight, when it blew a perfect hurricane.
"It's a dirty night," observed the captain, to the second mate, as the
latter came on deck to relieve the watch.
"It is, sir," replied Mr Dicey, as coolly as if he were about to sit down
to a good dinner on shore. Mr Dicey was a remarkably matter-of-fact
man. He looked upon a storm as he looked upon a fit of the
toothache--a thing that had to be endured, and was not worth making a
fuss about.
"It won't last long," said the captain.

"No, sir; it won't," answered Mr Dicey.
As Mr Dicey did not seem inclined to say more, the captain went below
and flung himself on a locker, having given orders that he should be
called if any change for the worse took place in the weather. Soon
afterward a tremendous sea rose high over the stern, and part of it fell
on the deck with a terrible crash, washing Mr Dicey into the
lee-scuppers, and almost sweeping him overboard. On regaining his
feet, and his position beside the wheel, the second mate shook himself
and considered whether he ought to call the captain. Having meditated
some time, he concluded that the weather was no worse, although it had
treated him very roughly, so he did not disturb the captain's repose.
Thus the storm raged all that night. It tossed the Hope about like a cork;
it well-nigh blew the sails off the masts, and almost blew Mr Dicey's
head off his shoulders! then it stopped as it had begun-- suddenly.
CHAPTER THREE.
IN THE ICE--DANGERS OF ARCTIC VOYAGING.
Next morning the Hope was becalmed in the midst of a scene more
beautiful than the tongue or the pen of man can describe.
When the sun rose that day, it shone upon what appeared to be a field
of glass and a city of crystal. Every trace of the recent storm was gone
except a long swell, which caused the brig to roll considerably, but
which did not break the surface of the sea.
Ice was to be seen all round as far as the eye could reach. Ice in every
form and size imaginable. And the wonderful thing about it was that
many of the masses resembled the buildings of a city. There were
houses, and churches, and monuments, and spires, and ruins. There
were also islands and mountains! Some of the pieces were low and flat,
no bigger than a boat; others were tall, with jagged tops; some of the
fields, as they are called, were a mile and more in extent, and there
were a number of bergs, or ice-mountains, higher than the brig's
topmasts. These last were almost white, but they had, in many places, a

greenish-blue colour that was soft and beautiful. The whole scene
shone and sparkled so brilliantly in the morning sun, that one could
almost fancy it was one of the regions of fairyland!
When young Gregory came on the quarter-deck, no one was there
except Jim Croft, a short, thick-set man, with the legs of a dwarf and
the shoulders of a giant. He stood at the helm, and although no steering
was required, as there was no wind, he kept his hands on the spokes of
the wheel, and glanced occasionally at the compass. The first mate,
who had the watch on deck, was up at the masthead, observing the state
of the ice.
"How glorious!" exclaimed the youth, as he swept his sparkling eye
round the horizon. "Ah, Croft! is not this splendid?"
"So it is, sir," said the seaman, turning the large quid of tobacco that
bulged out his left cheek. "It's very beautiful, no doubt, but it's comin'
rather thick for my taste."
"How so?" inquired Gregory. "There seems to me plenty of open water
to enable us to steer clear of these masses. Besides, as we have no wind,
it matters little, I should think, whether we have room to sail or not."
"You've not seed much o' the ice yet, that's plain," said Croft, "else
you'd know that the