I think Captain Biffer had hoped that we would abandon our project after the ice squeeze, but Christmas Day found us far to the westward2, and still creeping slowly along the edge of the ice-fields. Our days were a never-ending glory now, for it was midsummer, and of good weather we were having far more than we had been led to expect. We did not need to go to the crow’s-nest to see the midnight sun on Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day we celebrated3 by crossing the one hundred and fortieth meridian4, and by telling, after dinner, where we had been and what had happened to us the year before.
122The Gales5, with the yacht and its present officers, had been in Naples, where they had met Ferratoni, who was then perfecting his experiments. I had been in the interior of the “States,” making ready to drift, I knew not where. Now all were here together, in the luminous7, and fantastic midsummer of the farther South, seeking at my direction a half mythical8 highway to what might be a wholly mythical destination. Edith Gale6 had referred to me once, in jest, as a new Lochinvar. I said that I would strive to be that, but there were nights when I woke and remembered what all those men of science had said, and just how they had said it; and on those nights I trembled and weakened a little at the thought of the responsibility of life and expenditure9 I had assumed, and might have faltered10 still more, perhaps, had I not been strong in my determination to prove those sages11 of the test-tube and microscope at fault.
Thus far we had found no indication of a warm current, nor, in fact, anything else suggestive of warmth in the latitudes12 below the Antarctic Circle, but, as the books say, there had been plenty to amuse and instruct. Our days were a good deal alike, but they were never monotonous14. As we approached the point where Borchgrevink had penetrated16 the ice-pack, our expectations increased and our painstaking17 scrutiny18 of each step of the way was redoubled. 123Perhaps the brief daily record of my notebook will best continue the narrative19 at this point.
Jan. 1. Still pushing westward, slightly south. The New Year finds us at latitude13 68° 12′, longitude20 163° 44′. We are going very slowly now, barely thirty miles a day. The weather is excellent, and seems very warm. I spend fifteen hours out of the twenty-four in the fighting-top. When I am not there we lie to, or drift. There appears to be a slight westward movement in the ice, and we go with it during the night, or rather while I am asleep, for, of course, there is no night yet. Plenty of life here. Several sorts of whales appear in the open water, and penguins22 visit the ship daily. Edith Gale declares that some of them are the same ones that we first saw, and that they have taken a fancy to us.
From Mr. Chase’s Note-book.
124Jan. 2. We cannot be far now from Victoria Land, but still no sign of the warm current. True, Borchgrevink pushed thirty-eight days through the pack-ice before he came to this current, but these things vary in different years, and it is more than likely that we are already nearing the point where he emerged from the pack. The slight drift we have noticed continues and appears to bend to the south as we approach the coast.
Jan. 3. Edith and Chauncey Gale were with me almost constantly to-day in the crow’s-nest. The sailors to-night claim they can “smell” land. As we approach it, life becomes much more frequent, though not more cheerful. It is either white or black, and unmusical. The chant of the seals is depressing, and the chorus of the penguins a thing to be avoided. However, they always amuse us, and we appear to furnish entertainment for them. Also, they are fond of good music, perhaps because they cannot make it themselves. Edith Gale played the piano last night, and a whole flock of “Billy Watsons” in dress suits crowded on deck to listen to it. Probably they thought it a musicale given for their benefit. The sea-leopards and crab-eaters gathered about the ship, too, and would have come on board if they had been able. Mr. Sturritt is experimenting with all of these from a food standpoint, 125and the sailors are collecting many skins and feathers.
An Impression by Chauncey Gale.
Jan. 5. Borchgrevink must have found very different conditions, indeed, from the westward, for we are at latitude 70°, or very near it, and we have not yet found it necessary to penetrate15 the ice. This current that now appears to drift us to the southwest may have something to do with it, or it may be 126that this is a warmer summer, hence the different conditions.
Jan. 6. This current, if it is a current, puzzles us all. It is not noticeable on the surface, where the ice moves with the wind (I have even fancied to-day when there was no wind that the floes drifted northward), but seems to grip us from beneath and push us slowly, very slowly, but surely, to the southwest. Gale said to-day it was like the illness, “grip.” We were sure we had it, but we didn’t know just where.
Jan. 8. Whatever this current is, it is carrying us in the right direction. It has brought us safely through the waters explored by Sir James Ross fifty years ago, and where pack-ice delayed Borchgrevink thirty-eight days. The Captain thinks it a slight undercurrent that curves in around Possession Island, which we shall see to-morrow, if all goes well. We are all eager for the first sight of Antarctic land. Again to-day there was no wind, and both Edith Gale and I held that the surface ice was drifting to the north, but the others thought it only seemed so because of our movement to the southward. We did not change our opinion, however. It is curious, but we almost invariably agree. It is as if we were two parts of one mind. How beautiful she was to-day in her new seal hood23, with the funny little point at the top. I....
127
“Procession Island” by Chauncey Gale.
Jan. 9. We have seen the coast to-day, but did not think it wise to attempt a landing. From the deck we could view with our glasses Possession Island, with its millions of penguin21 inhabitants. Their lookouts24 screamed and yelled at us to keep off, and their bleak25 shore is well defended by jagged rocks and long glacier26 points that push out into the water. We observed the perfect system of order and highways maintained by these solemn creatures as they moved procession-like to and from the shore—the fat ones on one side all proceeding27 to their 128nests in the cliffs, and the thin ones coming to the sea for food. They did not quarrel, or get in each other’s way. It seemed that we could never get through laughing at them. Gale says the place should be named Procession Island, and that the first addition he lays out down here he’s going to get “Billy Watsons” to build the streets for him. There are many icebergs28 about, nearly all with the blue lines and the tabular top. They are from the great barrier to the south, whence they have doubtless been blown by the gales of last winter, and now seem to be drifting homeward to be there in time for next.
Jan. 12. Our current has not deserted30 us, but we are more mystified with it than ever. The surface ice is certainly drifting slowly northward, for we can now gauge31 its movement by the shore, while we and the bergs are drifting to the south. The Captain says that it is not uncommon32 for currents to flow in opposite directions, one above the other, for a short distance, and that they are called “witch tides,” for the reason that ships are sometimes unable to move in them, even with a fair wind, but that he has never seen anything just like this. Can it be that this upper drift from the south is our warm current, and that we have been in it for days without knowing it? Certainly it is but a feeble current as yet, and there is no warmth in it that we 129can discover. There is no pack here, and we shall keep on going. Borchgrevink found open water as low as 74°.
Jan. 13. It is our warm current from the south! There is no doubt of this to-day, and there is more to be told! When I went on deck this morning, Officer Larkins, who was on watch, reported that the ice seemed to run north a bit stronger, and that our drift southward was proportionately less rapid. I immediately had a pail of water drawn33 up, and tested it. It was 32°. Yesterday it had tested 30°! There was something about the look of the water that made me taste it. Larkins said he thought it had thrown me into a fit, and I suppose I did make some sort of a demonstration34, for it was fresh! At least it was only brackish35, from the melting in it of the salt-water ice. I don’t remember just what I did at first, but I know that when I turned around and saw Edith Gale coming out of the cabin, I found it not easy to keep from behaving in a manner which I feel quite certain she would have disapproved36. As it was, I rushed up to her with the glass. “Taste it!” I urged. “Taste it! It’s fresh water from a warm river flowing straight from the South Pole!” She tasted and rejoiced with me. That it came from inland warmth we could not doubt. And now the mystery of these currents becomes clearer. Above the heavily-moving 130ocean current below us there is the lighter37, shallower current of fresh warm water, carried by its force in the opposite direction, and finally spreading and losing itself in the sea. It was doubtless this strange combination that helped to open our way through the pack, and that we believe now will show us the way to our destination. In celebration of the event we have just had a great feasting, at which I was the guest of honor. I cannot sleep, so I must go back to the deck to watch and rejoice.
Later—Edith Gale was there, and we walked up and down for an hour, constructing wild theories. We still drift southward against our new warm river. The drift of the great salt current a few feet below the surface is strong, and we let it carry us—whither?
Jan. 15. We are in the midst of a fierce, northeasterly storm that has brought a world of grinding pack-ice about us. All trace of our warm current is lost, of course, and we are fighting now with steam and sail to keep from being driven upon the ragged38 shores of Victoria Land. We cannot see the coast, for a thick mist has shut us in, but we know by the screaming flocks of birds whirling about us that it is not far distant. At any moment we may strike a hidden reef or rock, or be crushed by a toppling berg. No one slept last night, and one of the officers has been in the crow’s-nest constantly. 131Two days ago all seemed joy. To-night I am heartsick, and only for the abiding39 courage and faith of Chauncey and Edith Gale would be despairing. Gale is a king among men, and Edith——
Jan. 20. Five days in the clutch of this fearful storm. I seem to have lived as many years since we found the warm current. If I have slept I do not know it. I am thin and haggard with watching and anxiety. But now the wind has gone down, and there is hope, though we are still beset40 with this pounding, maddening ice, and the Captain has taken no observation since the 14th. I shall try to sleep.
Jan. 21. The sun came out this morning, and Biffer got our position. There has been little change in the past week. We have just about held our own in keeping off shore. Now we are hemmed41 in by ice and our currents are lost beneath it. We shall try to push southward, however, in the hope of reaching clear water. The wind is behind us, but the drift ice ahead packs fearfully, perhaps because of the opposite flowing current.
Jan. 26. This morning I was called before I was awake, and hurried on deck to find Captain Biffer looking through a glass at a grim outline ahead.
“There’s your ice-wall,” he said, as I approached.
“What’s our latitude?” I asked.
“72° 33′.”
132“Then it can’t be the wall,” I said. “It lies somewhere below 74°.”
The Captain looked again through his glass. Then we ascended42 to the crow’s-nest for a better view.
“Well,” he declared, at last, “if that ain’t the ice-wall, it’s the father of all the icebergs we’ve seen yet.”
And an iceberg29 it proved to be. We pushed and worked our way toward it all the forenoon, and about two o’clock came near enough to make out an area of open water adjacent to it, by which we knew it was being carried southward against the surface current thus leaving a clear space behind. Into this we pushed a little later, and steaming in close, found that in the back of our ice giant there was a hollow of considerable size. It was, in fact, a sort of harbor for us, though not without its drawbacks. For to the right and left and behind lay pack-ice, so solid that escape in any direction seemed impossible, and ready to close in upon us should the great berg halt or hesitate in its progress poleward.
“We are going now, whether we want to or not,” said Chauncey Gale.
“Yes,” laughed Captain Biffer, “we’ve got a pacemaker.”
And this is so. Borne on by the vast salt current far beneath, our giant berg, regardless of drift ice 133and feeble fresh-water resistance, is pushing slowly steadily43 to the southward, whence it came. I believe now that this salt undercurrent describes a huge circle in the Antarctic Ocean; that it bends to the eastward44 when it reaches the great southern barrier, thence northward, detaching and carrying with it into the upper seas these giant sections of the wall, drifting them across westward and bringing them back southward, at last, as this one is being brought, to the point of its titanic45 birth. The bergs we met over by the Shetlands were drifting northward. Those along the way came as we came. Some of them looked worn and travel-stained, as if they had been swinging around the circle for a long time; bruised46 and battered47 for perhaps centuries. The one we are following must be on its first trip, for it is a giant of giants, going home mighty48 and magnificent after its first trip abroad.
And we are going with it. We shall not attempt to force our way out, and why should we? We set out for the South. We believe now—all of us, I think—that there is a land there from whence can flow a warm river. We are going to find it!
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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meridian
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| adj.子午线的；全盛期的 | |
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gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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sages
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| n.圣人( sage的名词复数 )；智者；哲人；鼠尾草（可用作调料） | |
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latitudes
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| 纬度 | |
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latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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longitude
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penguin
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penguins
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| n.企鹅( penguin的名词复数 ) | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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lookouts
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| n.寻找（ 某人/某物）( lookout的名词复数 )；是某人（自己）的问题；警戒；瞭望台 | |
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bleak
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glacier
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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icebergs
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| n.冰山，流冰( iceberg的名词复数 ) | |
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iceberg
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deserted
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gauge
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| v.精确计量；估计；n.标准度量；计量器 | |
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uncommon
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drawn
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demonstration
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| n.表明，示范，论证，示威 | |
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brackish
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| adj.混有盐的；咸的 | |
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disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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titanic
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| adj.巨人的，庞大的，强大的 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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