Among the Esquimaux; or Adventures under the Arctic Circle

"If the capsize does come," said Jack, "it will be the end of us; we would be buried hundreds of fathoms under the ice."

"There can be no doubt of that, but I say, Jack, isn't there something off yonder? I can't make it out, but it seems to me that it is more than the fog."

While the three were talking, Fred Warburton was seated so as to face the open sea, the others being turned sideways and giving no heed to that point of the compass.

It will be remembered that at this time they were inclosed in the all-pervading fog, which prevented them seeing as far as the length of the mountain of ice on which they were seated. Turning toward the water and peering outward, they saw the cause of the boy's question. The vapor itself appeared to be assuming shape, vague, indistinct, undefined, and almost invisible, but nevertheless perceptible to all.

The sailor was the first to see what it meant. Leaping to his feet he emitted his favorite exclamation:

"By the great horned spoon! it's another berg!"

With awful slowness and certainty the mass of fog disclosed more and more distinctly the misty contour that had caught the eye of Fred Warburton. At first it was like a pile of denser fog, rolling along the surface of the sea, but the outlines became more distinct each moment, until the form of an iceberg was clearly marked in the wet atmosphere.

The new one was much smaller than that upon which they were afloat, but it was of vast proportions for all that, enough to crush the largest ship that ever floated, as though it were but a toy in its path.

But the fearful fact about its appearance was that the two bergs were approaching each other, under the influence of adverse currents!

A collision was inevitable, and the boys contemplated it with hardly less dismay than they did the overturning of the larger one a short time before.

"This is no place for us!" called out Jack, the moment after his exclamation; "let's get out!"

He started up the path from which the polar bear had come, with his young friends at his heels. They did not stop until they could go no farther, when they turned about and shudderingly awaited the catastrophe that was at hand.

Their withdrawal from the edge of the iceberg to a point some distance away dimmed their vision, but the smaller berg was easily distinguished through the obscurity.

The two continued to approach with a slowness that could hardly have caused a shock in a couple of ships, but where the two masses were so enormous the momentum was beyond calculation.

The frightful crisis was not without its grim humor. The boys braced themselves against the expected crash as if in a railway train with a collision at hand. They lost sight of the fact that no force in nature could produce any such sudden jarring and jolting as they apprehended.

The two bergs seemed to be lying side by side, within a few inches really, but without actually touching.

"Why don't they strike?" asked Rob, in an awed whisper.

"There it comes!" exclaimed Fred; "hold fast!"

The smaller berg was seen to sway and bow, as if that, too, had swept against the bottom of the sea, and it was shaken through every part.

But amazing fact to the lads! they felt only the slightest possible tremor pass through the support upon which they had steadied themselves against the expected shock.

The smaller berg acted like some monster that has received a mortal hurt. It seemed to be striving to disentangle itself from the fatal embrace of its conqueror, but was unable to do so. Nearly conical in shape, a peak rose more than a hundred feet in air, ending in a tapering point almost as delicate as a church spire.

The crash of the immense bodies caused the breaking off of this icy monument a couple of rods from the top, and the mass, weighing many tons toppled over and fell upon the larger berg with a violence that shattered it into thousands of fragments, bits of which were carried to the feet of the awed party. Then, as if the smaller one saw that it was idle to resist longer, it began moving with the larger, which forced it along its own course as a tug pushes a floating chip in front of it.

The danger was over, if, indeed, there had been any danger. It was a minute or two before the boys comprehended it all, but when Rob did, he sprang to his feet and swung his cap over his head.

"Hurrah for our side! We beat 'em hands down!"

"I fancy it is quite safe to count on our keeping the right of way," added Fred, whose mental relief at the outcome was as great as his companion's. "I thought we would be tumbled about when the two came together, as if we were in an overturned wagon, but I can understand now how that could never be."

"But wait till we butt against an iceberg bigger than ours," said Rob, with a shake of his head.

CHAPTER XV

THE SOUND OF A VOICE

For hours the fog showed no signs of lifting. The three remained seated near the carcass of the polar bear, discussing the one question that had already been discussed so long, until there really seemed nothing left to say.

Not long after the collision between the icebergs a singular thing took place. It was evident that the two were acted upon each by a diverse current, but the preponderating bulk of the greater was not disturbed by the smaller. The latter, however, as if anxious to break away from its master, began slowly grinding along the face, until, after awhile, it swung clear and gradually drifted out of sight in the misty vapor.

"She will know better than to tackle one bigger than herself," was the remark of Rob Carrol, "which reminds me that if there should happen to be a bigger iceberg than this floating around loose we sha'n't be in any danger."

"And why not?"

"Because being so big it will be under the influence of the same current as this and going in the same direction, so there won't be much chance of our coming together."

"Unless the big one should overtake us," suggested Fred.

"Even then it would find it hard to run over us, so there isn't much to be feared from that; what I do dread is that we shall strike some shallow place in the sea that will make this thing turn a somersault."

"It would be a terrible thing," said Fred, unable to drive it from his thoughts.

"Is it possible for the berg to strike something like that and stick fast, without shifting its centre of gravity?"

The question was addressed to Jack Cosgrove, but he did not attempt to answer until the last clause was explained to him.

"Oh! yes; that has been seen many times. A berg will ground itself just like a boat, and stay for days and weeks until a storm breaks it up, or it shakes itself loose. I don't believe if we do strike bottom again that there's much danger of capsizing."

"Why didn't you tell us that before?" asked Rob, reprovingly; "we might have been saved all this worry."

"It's only guesswork, any way, so you may as well keep on worrying, for, somehow or other, you seem to enjoy it."

"I think there is a thinning of the fog," remarked Fred, some time later.

"A little, but not much; it's growing colder, too; we'll run into keen weather afore reaching the Pole."

"I shouldn't wonder if it came pretty soon. Hello!" added Rob, looking at his watch; "it is past noon."

"Do you want your dinner?" asked Jack, with a grin.

Both lads gave an expression of disgust, the elder replying:

"I can stand it for twenty-four hours before hankering for another slice of bear steak, and I shouldn't be surprised if Fred feels the same way."

"You are correct, my friend."

"Ah, you chaps can get used to anything!" was the self-complacent remark of the sailor, as he assumed a comfortable attitude on the ice.

While the boys talked thus, Jack was carefully noting the weather. He saw with pleasure that the fog was steadily clearing, and that, before night, the atmosphere was likely to be wholly clear again. That fact might avail them nothing, but it was a thousand-fold better than the mist, in which they might drift within a hundred feet of friends without either party suspecting it.