An Antarctic Mystery (19 page)

"Men of the
Halbrane
, listen to me! Just as various States have
done for voyages of discovery in the Polar Regions, I offer a reward
to the crew of this schooner. Two thousand dollars shall be shared
among you for every degree we make beyond the eighty-fourth
parallel."

Nearly seventy dollars to each man; this was a strong temptation.

I felt that I had hit the mark.

"I will sign an agreement to that effect," I continued, "with
Captain Len Guy as your representative, and the sums gained shall be
handed to you on your return, no matter under what conditions that
return be accomplished."

I waited for the effect of this promise, and, to tell the truth, I
had not to wait long.

"Hurrah!" cried the boatswain, acting as fugleman to his
comrades, who almost unanimously added their cheers to his. Hearne
offered no farther opposition; it would always be in his power to
put in his word when the stances should be more propitious.

Thus the bargain was made, and, to gain my ends, I have made a
heavier sacrifice. It is true we were within seven degrees of the
South and, if the
Halbrane
should indeed reach that spot, it would
never cost me more than fourteen thousand dollars.

Early in the morning of the 27th of December the
Halbrane
put out to
sea, heading south-west.

After the scene of the preceding evening Captain Len Guy had taken a
few hours' rest. I met him next day on deck while West was going
about fore and aft, and he called us both to him.

"Mr. Jeorling," he said, "it was with a terrible pang that I
came to the resolution to bring our schooner back to the north! I
felt I had not done all I ought to do for our unhappy
fellow-countrymen: but I knew that the majority of the crew would be
against me if I insisted on going beyond Tsalal Island."

"That is true, captain; there was a beginning of indiscipline on
board, and perhaps it might have ended in a revolt."

"A revolt we should have speedily put down," said West, coolly,
"were it only by knocking Hearne, who is always exciting the
mutinous men, on the head."

"And you would have done well, Jem," said the captain. "Only,
justice being satisfied, what would have become of the agreement
together, which we must have in order to do anything?"

"Of course, captain, it is better that things passed off without
violence! But for the future Hearne will have to look out for
himself."

"His companions," observed the captain, "are now greedy for
the prizes that have been promised them. The greed of gain will make
them more willing and persevering. The generosity of Mr. Jeorling
has succeeded where our entreaties would undoubtedly have failed. I
thank him for it."

Captain Len Guy held out a hand to me, which I grasped cordially.

After some general conversation relating to our purpose, the
ship's course, and the proposed verification of the bearings of
the group of islands on the west of Tsalal which is described by
Arthur Pym, the captain said,—

"As it is possible that the ravages of the earthquake did not
extend to this group, and that it may still be inhabited, we must be
on our guard in approaching the bearings."

"Which cannot bevery far off," I added. "And then, captain,
who knows but that your brother and his sailors might have taken
refu ge on one of these islands!"

This was admissible, but not a consoling eventuality, for in that
case the poor fellows would have fallen into the hands of those
savages of whom they were rid while they remained at Tsalal.

"Jem," resumed Captain Len Guy, "we are making good way, and
no doubt land will be signalled in a few hours. Give orders for the
watch to be careful."

"It's done, captain."

"There is a man in the crow's-nest?"

"Dirk Peters himself, at his own request." "All right, Jem; we
may trust his vigilance."

"And also his eyes," I added, "for he is gifted with amazing
sight."

For two hours of very quick sailing not the smallest indication of
the group of eight islands was visible.

"It is incomprehensible that we have not come in sight of them,"
said the captain. "I reckon that the
Halbrane
has made sixty miles
since this morning, and the islands in question are tolerably close
together."

"Then, captain, we must conclude—and it is not unlikely—that
the group to which Tsalal belonged has entirely disappeared in the
earthquake."

"Land ahead?" cried Dirk Peters.

We looked, but could discern nothing on the sea, nor was it until a
quarter of an hour had elapsed that our glasses enabled us to
recognize the tops of a few scattered islets shining in the oblique
rays of the sun, two or three miles to the westward.

What a change! How had it come about? Arthur Pym described spacious
islands, but only a small number of tiny islets, half a dozen at
most, protruded from the waters.

At this moment the half-breed came sliding down from his lofty perch
and jumped to the deck.

"Well, Dirk Peters! Have you recognized the group?" asked the
captain.

"The group?" replied the half-breed, shaking his head. "No, I
have only seen the tops of five or six islets. There is nothing but
stone heaps there—not a single island!"

As the schooner approached we easily recognized these fragments of
the group, which had been almost entirely destroyed on its western
side. The scattered remains formed dangerous reefs which might
seriously injure the keel or the sides of the
Halbrane
, and there
was no intention of risking the ship's safety among them. We
accordingly cast anchor at a safe distance, and a boat was lowered
for the reception of Captain Len Guy, the boatswain, Dirk Peters,
Holt, two men and myself. The still, transparent water, as Peters
steered us skilfully between the projecting edges of the little
reefs, allowed us to see, not a bed of sand strewn with shells, but
heaps which were overgrown by land vegetation, tufts plants not
belonging to the marine flora that floated the surface of the sea.
Presently we landed on one of the larger islets which rose to about
thirty feet above the sea.

"Do the tides rise sometimes to that height?" I inquired of the
captain.

"Never," he replied, "and perhaps we shall discover some
remains of the vegetable kingdom, of habitations, or of an
encampment."

"The best thing we can do," said the boatswain, "is to follow
Dirk Peters, who has already distanced us. The half-breed's lynx
eyes will see what we can't."

Peters had indeed scaled the eminence in a moment, and we presently
joined him on the top.

The islet was strewn with remains (probably of those domestic
animals mentioned in Arthur Pym's journal), but these bones
differed from the bones on Tsalal Island by the fact that the heaps
dated from a few months only. This then agreed with the recent
period at which we placed the earthquake. Besides, plants and tufts
of flowers were growing here and there.

"And these are this year's," I cried, "no southern winter
has passed over them."

These facts having been ascertained, no doubt could remain
respecting the date of the cataclysm after the departure of
Patterson. The destruction of the population of Tsalal whose bones
lay about the village was not attributable to that catastrophe.
William Guy and the five sailors of the
Jane
had been able to fly in
time, since no bones that could be theirs had been found on the
island.

Where had they taken refuge? This was the everpressing question.
What answer were we to obtain? Must we conclude that having reached
one of these islets they had perished in the swallowing-up of the
archipelago? We debated this point, as may be supposed, at a length
and with detail which I can only indicate here. Suffice it to say
that a decision was arrived at to the following effect. Our sole
chance of discovering the unfortunate castaways was to continue our
voyage for two or three parallels farther; the goal was there, and
which of us would not sacrifice even his life to attain it?

"God is guiding us, Mr. Jeorling," said Captain Len Guy.

The following day, the 29th of December, at six in the morning, the
schooner set sail with a north-east wind, and this time her course
was due south. The two succeeding days passed wholly without
incident; neither land nor any sign of land was observed. The men on
the Halbrahe took great hauls of fish, to their own satisfaction and
ours. It was New Year's Day, 1840, four months and seventeen days
since I had left the Kerguelens and two months and five days since
the Halbrahe had sailed from the Falklands. The half-breed, between
whom and myself an odd kind of tacit understanding subsisted,
approached the bench on which I was sitting—the captain was in his
cabin, and West was not in sight—with a plain intention of
conversing with me. The subject may easily be guessed.

"Dirk Peters," said I, taking up the subject at once, "do you
wish that we should talk of
him
?"

"Him?" he murmured.

"You have remained faithful to his memory, Dirk Peters."

"Forget him, sir! Never!"

"He is always there—before you?"

"Always! So many dangers shared! That makes brothers! No, it makes
a father and his son! Yes! And I have seen America again, but
Pym—poor Pym—he is still beyond there!"

"Dirk Peters," I asked, "have you any idea of the route which
you and Arthur Pym followed in the boat after your departure from
Tsalal Island?"

"None, sir! Poor Pym had no longer any instrument—you
know—sea machines—for looking at the sun. We could not know,
except that for the eight days the current pushed us towards the
south, and the wind also. A fine breeze and a fair sea, and our
shirts for a sail."

"Yes, white linen shirts, which frightened your prisoner Nu
Nu—"

"Perhaps so—I did not notice. But if Pym has said so, Pym must
be believed."

"And during those eight days you were able to supply yourselves
with food?"

"Yes, sir, and the days after—we and the savage. You know—the
three turtles that were in the boat. These animals contain a store
of fresh water—and their flesh is sweet, even raw. Oh, raw flesh,
sir?"

He lowered his voice, and threw a furtive glance around him. It
would be impossible to describe the frightful expression of the
half-breed's face as he thus recalled the terrible scenes of the
Grampus
. And it was not the expression of a cannibal of Australia or
the New Hebrides, but that of a man who is pervaded by an
insurmountable horror of himself.

"Was it not on the 1st of March, Dirk Peters," I asked, "that
you perceived for the first time the veil of grey vapour shot with
luminous and moving rays?"

"I do not remember, sir, but if Pym says It was so, Pym must be
believed."

"Did he never speak to you of fiery rays which fell from the
sky?" I did not use the term "polar aurora," lest the
half-breed should not understand it.

"Never, sir," said Dirk Peters, after some reflection. "Did
you not remark that the colour of the sea changed, grew white like
milk, and that its surface became ruffled around your boat?"

"It may have been so, sir; I did not observe. The boat went on and
on, and my head went with it."

"And then, the fine powder, as fine as ashes, that fell—"

"I don't remember it."

"Was it not snow?"

"Snow? Yes! No! The weather was warm. What did Pym say? Pym must
be believed." He lowered his voice and continued: "But Pym will
tell you all that, sir. He knows. I do not know. He saw, and you
will believe him."

"Yes, Dirk Peters, I shall believe him."

"We are to go in search of him, are we not?"

"I hope so."

"After we shall have found William Guy and the sailors of the
Jane
!"

"Yes, after."

"And even if we do not find them?"

"Yes, even in that case. I think I shall induce our captain. I
think he will not refuse—"

"No, he will not refuse to bring help to a man—a man like him
g"

"And yet," I said, "if William Guy and his people are living,
can we admit that Arthur Pym—"

"Living? Yes! Living!" cried the half-breed. "By the great
spirit of my fathers, he is—he is waiting for me, my poor Pym! How
joyful he will be when he clasps his old Dirk in his arms, and
I—I, when I feel him, there, there."

And the huge chest of the man heaved like a stormy sea. Then he went
away, leaving me inexpressibly affected by the revelation of the
tenderness for his unfortunate companion that lay deep in the heart
of this semi-savage.

In the meantime I said but little to Captain Len Guy, whose whole
heart and soul were set on the rescue of brother, of the possibility
of our finding Arthur Gordon Pym. Time enough, if in the course of
this strange enterprise of ours we succeeded in that object, to urge
upon him one still more visionary.

At length, on the 7th of January—according to Dirk Peters, who had
fixed it only by the time that had expired—we arrived at the
place where Nu Nu the savage breathed his last, lying in the bottom
of the boat. On that day an observation gave 86° 33' for the
latitude, the longitude remaining the same between the and the
forty-third meridian. Here it was, according the half-breed, that
the two fugitives were parted after the collision between the boat
and the floating mass of ice. But a question now arose. Since the
mass of ice carrying away Dirk Peters had drifted towards the north,
was this because it was subjected to the action of a countercurrent?

Yes, that must have been so, for oar schooner had not felt the
influence of the current which had guided her on leaving the
Falklands, for fully four days. And yet, there was nothing
surprising in that, for everything is variable in the austral seas.
Happily, the fresh breeze from the north-east continued to blow, and
the
Halbrane
made progress toward higher waters, thirteen degrees in
advance upon Weddells ship and two degrees upon the fane. As for the
land—islands or continent—which Captain Len Guy was seeking on
the surface of that vast ocean, it did not appear. I was well aware
that he was gradually losing confidence in our enterprise.