The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras. Жюль Верн

ready to fire at the beast, which by its size, recalled antediluvian monsters.

      It drew near with long leaps; Shandon and the doctor fired at the same time, and suddenly the report of the pieces agitated the air and produced an unlooked-for effect.

      The doctor gazed attentively, and could not help bursting out laughing. "It's refraction!" said he.

      "Refraction!" cried Shandon.

      But a terrible cry from the crew interrupted them.

      "The dog!" shouted Clifton.

      "The dog-captain!" repeated his companions.

      "It's he!" cried Pen.

      In fact, it was the dog who had burst his bonds and had made his way to the surface of the ice through another hole. At that moment the refraction, by a phenomenon common in these latitudes, exaggerated his size, and this had only been broken by the report of the guns; but, notwithstanding, a disastrous impression had been produced upon the minds of the sailors, who were not very much inclined to admit any explanation of the fact from physical causes. The adventure of the Devil's Thumb, the reappearance of the dog under such peculiar circumstances, completely upset them, and murmurs arose on all sides.

      CHAPTER XII

      CAPTAIN HATTERAS

      The Forward was advancing rapidly under steam between the ice-fields and the mountains of ice. Johnson was at the helm. Shandon was examining the horizon with his snow-spectacles; but his joy was brief, for he soon saw that the passage was blocked up by a circle of mountains.

      Nevertheless, he preferred to take his chances with pushing on, to returning.

      The dog followed the brig on the ice, but he kept at a respectful distance. Only, if he lagged too far, there was to be heard a singular whistle which at once brought him on.

      The first time that this whistle was heard, the sailors looked around; they were alone on the deck, talking together; there was no unknown person there; and yet this whistle was often repeated.

      Clifton was the first to take alarm.

      "Do you hear that?" he said; "and do you see how the dog starts as soon as he hears it?"

      "It's past belief," said Gripper.

      "Very well!" cried Pen; "I'm not going any farther."

      "Pen is right," said Brunton; "it's tempting Providence."

      "Tempting the Devil," answered Clifton. "I should rather give up all my share of the pay than go on."

      "We shall never get back," said Bolton, dejectedly.

      The crew was exceedingly demoralized.

      "Not a foot farther!" cried Wolston; "is that your opinion?"

      "Yes, yes!" answered the sailors.

      "Well," said Bolton, "let's go find the commander; I'll undertake to tell him."

      The sailors in a dense group made their way to the quarter-deck.

      The Forward was then advancing into a large arena, which had a diameter of about eight hundred feet; it was completely closed, with the exception of one place through which the ship entered.

      Shandon saw that he was locking himself in. But what was to be done? How could he retreat? He felt all the responsibility, and his hand nervously grasped his glass.

      The doctor looked on in silence, with folded arms; he gazed at the walls of ice, the average height of which was about three hundred feet. A cloud of fog lay like a dome above the gulf.

      Then it was that Bolton spoke to the commander.

      "Commander," said he in a broken voice, "we can't go any farther."

      "What's that you are saying?" said Shandon, who felt enraged at the slight given to his authority.

      "We have come to say, Commander," resumed Bolton, "that we have done enough for this invisible captain, and that we have made up our minds not to go on any farther."

      "Made up your minds?" cried Shandon. "Is that the way you talk to me, Bolton? Take care."

      "You need not threaten," retorted Pen, brutally, "we are not going any farther."

      Shandon stepped towards the mutinous sailors, when the boatswain said to him in a low voice, —

      "Commander, if we want to get out of this place, we have not a moment to lose. There's an iceberg crowding towards the entrance; it may prevent our getting out and imprison us here."

      Shandon returned to look at the state of affairs.

      "You will account for this afterwards," he said to the mutineers. "Now, go about!"

      The sailors hastened to their places. The Forward went about rapidly; coal was heaped on the fires; it was necessary to beat the iceberg. There was a race between them; the brig stood towards the south, the berg was drifting northward, threatening to bar the way.

      "Put on all the steam, Brunton, do you hear?" said Shandon.

      The Forward glided like a bird through the broken ice, which her prow cut through easily; the ship shook with the motion of the screw, and the gauge indicated a full pressure of steam, the deafening roar of which resounded above everything.

      "Load the safety-valve!" cried Shandon.

      The engineer obeyed at the risk of bursting the boilers.

      But these desperate efforts were vain; the iceberg, driven by a submarine current, moved rapidly towards the exit; the brig was still three cable-lengths distant, when the mountain, entering the vacant space like a wedge, joined itself to its companions, and closed the means of escape.

      "We are lost!" cried Shandon, who was unable to restrain that unwise speech.

      "Lost!" repeated the crew.

      "Lower the boats!" cried many.

      "To the steward's pantry!" cried Pen and some of his set; "if we must drown, let us drown in gin!"

      The wildest confusion raged among these half-wild men. Shandon felt unable to assert his authority; he wanted to give some orders; he hesitated, he stammered; his thoughts could find no words. The doctor walked up and down nervously. Johnson folded his arms stoically, and said not a word.

      Suddenly a strong, energetic, commanding voice was heard above the din, uttering these words: —

      "Every man to his place! Prepare to go about!"

      Johnson shuddered, and, without knowing what he did, turned the wheel rapidly.

      It was time; the brig, going under full steam, was about crashing against the walls of its prison.

      But while Johnson instinctively obeyed, Shandon, Clawbonny, the crew, all, even down to Warren the fireman, who had abandoned his fires, and Strong the cook, who had fled from his galley, were collected on the deck, and all saw issuing from the cabin, the key of which he alone possessed, a man.

      This man was the sailor Garry.

      "Sir!" cried Shandon, turning pale, "Garry – by what right do you give orders here?"

      "Duke!" said Garry, repeating the whistle which had so surprised the crew.

      The dog, on hearing his real name, sprang on the quarter-deck, and lay down quietly at his master's feet.

      The crew did not utter a word. The key which the captain alone should possess, the dog which he had sent and which had identified him, so to speak, the tone of command which it was impossible to mistake, – all this had a strong influence on the minds of the sailors, and was enough to establish firmly Garry's authority.

      Besides, Garry was hardly to be recognized; he had removed the thick whiskers which had surrounded his face, thereby giving it a more impassible, energetic, and commanding expression; he stood before them clothed in a captain's uniform, which he had had placed in his cabin.

      So the crew of the Forward, animated in spite of themselves, shouted, —

      "Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for the captain!"

      "Shandon,"