The Fur Country: Or, Seventy Degrees North Latitude · Part II
CHAPTER XX.
IN THE OFFING.
Victoria Island was now floating in the widest part of Behring Sea, six
hundred miles from the nearest of the Aleutian Islands, and two hundred miles
from the nearest land, which was on the east. Supposing no accident happened, it
would be three weeks at least before this southern boundary of Behring Sea could
be reached.
Could the island last so long? Might it not burst open at any moment, subject
as it was even now to the constant action of tepid water, the mean temperature
of which was more than 50? Fahrenheit?
Lieutenant Hobson pressed on the construction of the raft as rapidly as
possible, and the lower framework was already floating on the lagoon. Mac-Nab
wished to make it as strong as possible, for it would have a considerable
distance to go to reach the Aleutian Islands, unless they were fortunate enough
to meet with a whaler.
No important alteration had lately taken place in the general configuration
of the island. Reconaissances were taken everyday, but great caution was
necessary, as a fracture of the ground might at any moment cut off the explorers
from the rest of the party.
The wide gulf near Cape Michael, which the winter had closed, had reopened
gradually, and now ran a mile inland, as far as the dried-up bed of the little
river. It was probable that it was soon to extend to the bed itself, which was
of course of little thickness, having been hollowed out by the stream. Should it
do so, the whole district between Cape Michael and Port Barnett, bounded on the
west by the river bed, would disappear-that is to say, the colonists would lose
a good many square miles of their domain. On this account Hobson warned every
one not to wander far, as a rough sea would be enough to bring about the dreaded
catastrophe.
Soundings were, however, taken, in several places with a view to ascertaining
where the ice was thickest, and it was found that, near Cape Bathurst, not only
was the layer of earth and sand of greater extent-which was of little
importance-but the crust of ice was thicker than anywhere else. This was a most
fortunate circumstance, and the holes made in sounding were kept open, so that
the amount of diminution in the base of the island could be estimated every day.
This diminution was slow but sure, and, making allowance for the unfortunate
fact that the island was drifting into warmer waters, it was decided that it was
impossible for it to last another three weeks.
The next week, from the 19th to the 25th May, the weather was very bad. A
fearful storm broke over the island, accompanied by flash after flash of
lightning and peals of thunder. The sea rose high, lashed by a powerful
north-west wind, and its waves broke over the doomed island, making it tremble
ominously. The little colony were on the watch, ready on an emergency to embark
in the raft, the scaffolding of which was nearly finished, and some provisions
and fresh water were taken on board.
Rain heavy enough to penetrate to the ice-crust fell in large quantities
during this storm, and melted it in many places. On the slopes of some of the
hills the earth was washed away, leaving the white foundations bare. These
ravines were hastily filled up with soil to protect the ice from the action of
the warm air and rain, and but for this precaution the soil would have been
everywhere perforated.
Great havoc was caused amongst the woods by this storm; the earth and sand
were washed away from the roots of the trees, which fell in large numbers. In a
single night the aspect of the country between the lake and the former Port
Barnett was completely changed. A few groups of birch trees and thickets of firs
alone remained-a fact significant of approaching decomposition, which no human
skill could prevent! Every one knew and felt that the ephemeral inland was
gradually succumbing-every one, except perhaps Thomas Black, who was still
gloomily indifferent to all that was going on.
On the 23d of May, during the storm, the hunter Sabine left the house in the
thick fog, and was nearly drowned in a large hole which had opened during the
night on the site formerly occupied by the principal house of the factory.
Hitherto, as we are aware, the house, three quarters submerged, and buried
beneath a mass of earth and sand, had remained fixed in the ice-crust beneath
the island; but now the sea had evidently enlarged the crevasse, and the house
with all it contained had sunk to rise no more. Earth and sand were pouring
through this fissure, at the bottom of which surged the tempest-tossed waves
Sabine's comrades, hearing his cries, rushed to his assistance, and were just
in time to save him as he was still clinging to the slippery walls of the abyss.
He escaped with a ducking which might have had tragic consequences.
A little later the beams and planks of the house, which had slid under the
island, were seen floating about in the offing like the spars of a wrecked
vessel. This was the worst evil the storm had wrought, and would compromise the
solidity of the island yet more, as the waves would now eat away the ice all
round the crevasse.
In the course of the 25th May, the wind veered to the north-east, and
although it blew strongly, it was no longer a hurricane; the rain ceased, and
the sea became calmer. After a quiet night the sun rose upon the desolate scene,
the Lieutenant was able to take the bearings accurately, and obtained the
following result:-
At noon on the 25th May, Victoria Island was in latitude 56? 13', and
longitude 170? 23'.
It had therefore advanced at great speed, having drifted nearly eight hundred
miles since the breaking up of the ice set it free in Behring Strait two months
before.
This great speed made the Lieutenant once more entertain a slight hope. He
pointed out the Aleutian Islands on the map to his comrades, and said-
"Look at these islands; they are not now two hundred miles from us, and we
may reach them in eight days."
"Eight days!" repeated Long, shaking his head; "eight days is a long
time."
"I must add," continued Hobson, "that if our island had followed the hundred
and sixty-eighth meridian, it would already have reached the parallel of these
islands, but in consequence of a deviation of the Behring current, it is bearing
in a south-westerly direction."
The Lieutenant was right, the current seemed likely to drag the island away
from all land, even out of sight of the Aleutian Islands, which only extend as
far as the hundred and seventieth meridian.
Mrs Barnett examined the map in silence. She saw the pencil-mark which
denoted the exact spot then occupied by the island.
The map was made on a large scale, and the point representing the island
looked but a speck upon the vast expanse of the Behring Sea. She traced back the
route by which the island had come to its present position, marvelling at the
fatality, or rather the immutable law, by which the currents which had borne it
along had avoided all land, sheering clear of islands, and never touching either
continent; and she saw the boundless Pacific Ocean, towards which she and all
with her were hurrying.
She mused long upon this melancholy subject, and at last exclaimed
suddenly-
"Could not the course of the island be controlled? Eight days at this pace
would bring us to the last island of the Aleutian group."
"Those eight days are in the hands of God," replied Lieutenant Hobson
gravely; "we can exercise no control upon them. Help can only come to us from
above; there is nothing left for us to try."
"I know, I know!" said Mrs Barnett; "but Heaven helps those who help
themselves. Is there really nothing we can do?"
Hobson shook his head doubtfully. His only hope was in the raft, and he was
undecided whether to embark every one on it at once, contrive some sort of a
sail with clothes, &c., and try to reach the nearest land, or to wait yet a
little longer.
He consulted Sergeant Long, Mac-Nab, Rae, Marbre, and Sabine, in whom he had
great confidence, and all agreed that it would be unwise to abandon the island
before they were obliged. The raft, constantly swept as it would be by the
waves, could only be a last resource, and would not move at half the pace of the
island, still driven towards the south by the remains of the ice-wall. The wind
generally blew from the east, and would be likely to drift the raft out into the
offing away from all land. They must still wait then, always wait; for the
island was drifting rapidly towards the Aleutians. When they really approached
the group they would be able to see what it would be best to do.
This was certainly the wisest course to take. In eight days, if the present
speed were maintained, the island would either stop at the southern boundary of
Behring Sea, or be dragged to the south west to the waters of the Pacific Ocean,
where certain destruction awaited it.
But the adverse fate which seemed all along to have followed the hapless
colonists had yet another blow in store for them: the speed on which they
counted was now to fail them, as everything else had done.
During the night of the 26th May, the orientation of the island changed once
more; and this time the results of the displacement were extremely serious. The
island turned half round, and the icebergs still remaining of the huge ice-wall,
which had shut in the northern horizon, were now on the south.
In the morning the shipwrecked travellers-what name could be more
appropriate?-saw the sun rise above Cape Esquimaux instead of above Port
Barnett.
Hardly a hundred yards off rose the icebergs, rapidly melting, but still of a
considerable size, which till then had driven the island before them. The
southern horizon was now partly shut in by them.
What would be the consequences of this fresh change of position? Would not
the icebergs now float away from the island, with which they were no longer
connected?
All were oppressed with a presentiment of some new misfortune, and understood
only too well what Kellet meant when he exclaimed-
"This evening we shall have lost our screw!'"
By this Kellet meant that the icebergs, being before instead of behind the
island, would soon leave it, and as it was they which imparted to it its rapid
motion, in consequence of their very great draught of water-their volume being
six or seven feet below the sea level for every one above-they would now go on
without it, impelled by the submarine current, whilst Victoria Island, not deep
enough in the water to come under the influence of the current, would be left
floating helplessly on the waves.
Yes! Kellet was right; the island would then be like a vessel with disabled
masts and a broken screw.
No one answered the soldier's remark, and a quarter of an hour had not
elapsed before a loud cracking sound was heard. The summits of the icebergs
trembled, large masses broke away, and the icebergs, irresistibly drawn along by
the submarine current, drifted rapidly to the south.