# Works of Jules Verne/Adventures of Captain Hatteras/The English at the North Pole/Chapter 22

CHAPTER XXII ASSAULT OF THE ICEBERGS
After seeing that the vessel was properly moored, Hatteras withdrew to his cabin and studied his chart attentively. He found he was in latitude 76° 57', and longitude 92° 20'; in other words, almost close to the 77th parallel. This was where Sir Edward Belcher passed his first winter on the Pioneer and the Assistance and from this point he organized his exploring parties, and succeeded in reaching the 78th degree. Beyond this he found that the coast inclined to the S. E. towards Jones's Sound, which opens into Baffin's Bay, but on the N. W. he could discern nothing as far as the eye could see but clear, open water.
Hatteras gazed long and earnestly at the blank white space on the map which represented the unexplored regions round the Pole, and he said to himself:
"After all these testimonies from Stewart, Penny, Belcher, I cannot doubt. The open sea must be there. These bold, hardy men have seen it with their own eyes. Can it be that it was during some exceptional winter, and that now———? but no, that cannot be the case, for several years elapsed between the discoveries. The basin exists and I will find it, and see it for myself!"
He went again on the bridge, but the ship was wrapped in dense fog, and the mast-head was hardly visible from deck; yet Hatteras made the ice-master come down, and went himself to take his place in the "crow's-nest." He was anxious to watch for the least rift in the fog to examine the northwest horizon.
Shandon could not lose the chance to say to his friend:
"Well, Wall, where is this open sea?"
"You were right, Shandon, and we have not more than six weeks' coal left now."
"Oh! the Doctor will find some scientific method of warming ourselves without fire. I have heard people say ​that ice can be made with fire, so perhaps he can make us fire with ice."
Next morning the fog cleared off for a few minutes, and Hatteras could be seen eagerly scanning the horizon from his elevated position; but he came down without saying a word, and gave orders to sail forthwith. It was easy to tell that his last hope had failed him.
The Forward weighed anchor, and once more resumed her uncertain course towards the north. It was evident there would be a general frost before long, for the sea was covered with whitish patches, looking like spots of oil, and whenever the wind fell the whole surface was speedily covered with a sheet of ice, which broke up, however, and disappeared as soon as the breeze returned. Towards night the thermometer fell to 17º.
Often the leads seemed quite closed; but an unexpected movement of the ice-streams would open the way in some new direction, and the brave vessel would dash in at once and follow it up boldly; but the cold was so intense that during these forced stoppages, the steam that escaped from the valves would condense immediately and fall in snow on the deck. Sometimes there was another cause of delay. The loose ice would get entangled among the machinery, and adhere so firmly that the engine was powerless. The sailors had to bring levers and handspikes, and break it away, before the screw could work.
Thirteen days passed thus, during which the Forward was dragging wearily through Penny's Straits. The crew grumbled, but obeyed, for they saw that going back was impossible. To go forth would be attended with less peril now than to return south: it was time to think of winter quarters.
The men had long talks among themselves about their present situation, and even ventured to discuss it with Shandon, knowing quite well he was on their side.
"You say then, Mr. Shandon," said Gripper, "that we cannot go back?"
"It is too late now," replied Shandon.
"I suppose, then," said another sailor, "all we can do is to make ourselves comfortable for the winter?"
"It is our only resource. I was not believed when I———"
​"Next time you will be," said Pen, who had returned to his duty.
"As I shall not be master on board ———" replied Shandon.
"Who knows?" said Pen. "John Hatteras is at liberty to go as far north as he thinks proper, but we are not obliged to follow him."
"He need only remember his first voyage to Baffin's Bay, and what came of it," replied Gripper.
"Ay! and his voyage in the Farewell," said Clifton, "when he lost his ship in the Spitzberg seas!"
"And came home alone," added Gripper.
"Alone with his dog," replied Clifton.
"We have no desire to sacrifice ourselves for such a man's good pleasure," put in Pen.
"No, nor to lose our hard-earned prize-money," rejoined the avaricious Clifton. "When we have passed the 78th parallel," he went on, "and we are not far off now, that will be just £375 for each of us!"
"But shan't we forfeit it," asked Gripper, "if we return without the captain?"
"No," answered Clifton; "if it is proved that our return was absolutely necessary."
"But the captain might———"
"Rest easy, Gripper," replied Pen. "We shall have a captain, and a good one, that Mr. Shandon knows. When a commander goes mad, he is displaced, and the power given to another. Isn't it so, Mr. Shandon?"
"My friends," replied Shandon, evasively, "you will always find in me a devoted heart to you; but let us wait the course of events."
It was evident the storm was gathering over the head of Hatteras. But he went boldly on, firm and unshaken as ever, full of energy and confidence. He saw that he would be forced to winter in these regions; but what of it? Had not Sir John Ross and McClure passed three winters in succession here? What they had done, others could do.
On the 31st of August the thermometer stood at 13°. The end of the navigable season had arrived.
Leaving Exmouth Isle on the right, the Forward passed Table Isle, into the middle of the Belcher Channel. There was scarcely an inch depth of water now under her keel; ​and, far as the eye could reach, nothing was to be seen but ice-fields.
Fortunately, it was possible to get a few minutes farther north yet, by breaking the young ice with enormous rollers and petards. The great thing to be dreaded in low temperatures is a calm atmosphere, as ice forms so rapidly in the absence of wind. Even contrary winds were joyfully welcomed, but they did not continue long; a calm night came, and all was frozen.
The Forward could not winter in such a situation, however, exposed to winds and icebergs, and the currents of the channel; and Hatteras sought to get beyond Point Albert, where there was a sheltered bay which would afford a safe refuge.
But, on the 8th of September, they came to a high, impassable wall of ice, which rose between them and the north. The temperature fell to 10°, and Hatteras was almost at his wits' end. He risked his ship a hundred times in impracticable leads, and displayed prodigies of skill in extricating her again. Thoughtless and imprudent, and even blind as he was, no one could deny that he was a good sailor—indeed, one of the very ablest.
The Forward was now in a really perilous situation. All was ice behind, and ice of such thickness, that the men could run on it securely and tow the brig along.
Since there was no getting round this wall, Hatteras determined to attack it with his blasting-cylinders. It took the whole of one day to make holes in the ice of sufficient depth, but he hoped all would be ready next morning for the explosion.
However, during the night the wind began to rage furiously. The sea rose under the ice as if shaken by some submarine disturbance; and the terrified voice of the pilot was heard shouting, "Look out at the stern! Look out at the stern!"
Hatteras looked in the direction indicated, and certainly it was an alarming sight that met his gaze. An enormous iceberg, towering aloft like a mountain, was coming rushing towards the ship with the speed of an avalanche.
"All hands on deck!" sang out Hatteras.
The huge moving mass was not more than half a mile distant. On it came, tearing up the floes, crushing and ​overturning, and sweeping the packs along like grains of sand before the hurricane-blast.
"This is the worst danger that has ever threatened us yet," said Johnson to Dr. Clawbonny.
"Yes, it looks appalling enough, certainly," replied the Doctor.
"It is a regular assault, and we must prepare to meet it," said Johnson.
"I declare, one could fancy it was a whole pack of antediluvian monsters, such as might be supposed to live about the North Pole. They all seem pushing each other, and hurrying on to see which will arrive first."
"Aye, and some are armed with sharp lances, which I advise you to steer clear of, Dr. Clawbonny."
"It is going to be a regular siege," exclaimed the Doctor. "Come and let us be up on the ramparts."
Away he rushed to the stern, where all the crew were stationed with poles, and iron bars, and hand spikes, ready to repulse the formidable enemy.
The avalanche arrived, increasing in height as it came, owing to the accumulation of smaller icebergs it caught up in its train. Cannon-balls were fired, by the captain's orders, to break the threatening line of attack; but it advanced nearer and nearer, and at length dashed against the brig with a tremendous crash, breaking part of the bulwarks.
"Keep to your posts, and look out for the bergs," shouted Hatteras.
There was much need, for they were boarding the vessel with irresistible force: already packs weighing several hundredweight had scaled the sides, while the smaller ones, which had been dashed up in the onset as high as the masts, fell down in a shower of pointed arrows, breaking the shrouds and cutting the rigging. Some of the sailors were sorely wounded by these bristling barbs as they stood, pole in hand, each doing his utmost to repulse their assailants, though almost overpowered by their numbers. Among others, Bolton had his left shoulder completely ripped up. The noise was terrible, and to add to it, Duk barked his loudest with rage. The darkness of night greatly increased the horrors of the situation, without hiding from view the angry packs glistening in their dazzling whiteness.
​From time to time the voice of Hatteras was heard amid all the din and clamor of this strange, preternatural, impossible contest between men and icebergs. The brig, yielding to the enormous pressure, leaned over on her larboard till her mainmast touched the ice-fields.
Hatteras understood the danger: it was a moment of terrible anxiety, for each instant the brig might turn over completely, or her masts be torn away.
Presently an enormous mass began to rise at the side of the ship, extending right along her hull. It seemed forced upward by some irresistible power, higher and higher, till at last it was on a level with the poop. Should it fall on the Forward, all was over. It turned and stood on end, higher than the tallest mast, and tottered on its base. A cry of terror escaped all lips, and there was a general rush to the other side.
Suddenly the vessel was entirely lifted up, and for a brief space seemed to float in the air. Then she came down again and fell back on the ice, to be caught up next minute in a tremendous roller, which made her timbers shiver, and swept her right over to the other side of the insurmountable barrier, on to an ice-field, into which she sank at once by her own weight, and regained her proper element.
"We are over the icebergs!" exclaimed Johnson.
"Praise God!" said Hatteras.
But though the ice barrier was surmounted, the brig was motionless, fast locked in on all sides, and though the keel was in the water, yet unable to stir.
It was soon evident, however, that if the brig was motionless, the field was not, and Johnson called out to the captain:
"We are driving, sir."
"Well, we must just drive!" replied Hatteras.
And, indeed, what else could they do? Resistance was impossible.
The day came, and it was quite clear that, owing to the action of some submarine current, the ice-field was moving rapidly north.
To provide for any possible catastrophe, for the brig might be dashed on some coast or crushed with the pressure of the ice, Hatteras had a great quantity of provisions brought up on deck, together with the tents and all the requi​sites for encamping, and the clothing and blankets of the crew. Following the example of McClure in similar circumstances, he also encircled the ship with a girdle of hammocks inflated with air, so as to ward off great seas, and the ice so accumulated on these that there was soon a high wall all around, and nothing of the ship was visible except the mainmast.
For seven days they sailed along in this strange fashion. On the 10th of September they caught a glimpse of Point Albert, the western extremity of New Cornwall. But they soon lost sight of it, as the ice-field began now to move in an easterly direction. Where could it go, and where would it stop? Who could say.
The crew waited with folded arms. At last, on the 15th of September, about three in the afternoon, the ice-field came into collision, no doubt, with another field, for it stopped suddenly short, and a violent shock shook the vessel to her center. Hatteras, who had taken his bearings during the day, consulted his chart. He found himself in the north, with no land in sight, in longitude 95° 35', and latitude 78° 15', in the heart of that unknown sea, where geographers have placed the point of greatest cold.
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