 | CHAPTER VIII. The sea lions, or, The lost sealers |  |
8. CHAPTER VIII.
And the gathering darkness of night comes on;
Like a curtain from God's kind hand it flows,
To shade the couch where his children repose.
Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright,
And give your last thoughts to the guardian of night.”
Ware.
Desolate, indeed, and nearly devoid of hope, had the
situation of our sealers now become. It was mid-day, and
it was freezing everywhere in the shade. A bright genial
sun was shedding its glorious rays on the icy panorama;
the frosts. Far as the eye could see, even from the
elevation of the cape, there was nothing but ice, with the
exception of that part of the Great Bay into which the floe
had not yet penetrated. To the southward, there stood
clustering around the passage a line of gigantic bergs,
placed like sentinels, as if purposely to stop all egress in
that direction. The water had lost its motion in the shift
of wind, and new ice had formed over the whole bay, as
was evident by a white sparkling line that preceded the
irresistible march of the floe.
As Roswell gazed on this scene, serious doubts darkened
his mind as to his escaping from this frozen chain until
the return of another summer. It is true that a south wind
might possibly produce a change, and carry away the
blockading mass; but every moment rendered this so much
the less probable. Winter, or what would be deemed winter
in most regions, was already setting in; and should the
ice really become stationary in and around the group, all
hope of its moving must vanish for the next eight months.
Daggett reached the house about an hour before sunset.
He had succeeded in cutting a passage through the ice as
far as the cabin-door of his unfortunate schooner, when
there was no difficulty in descending into the interior parts
of the vessel. The whole party came in staggering under
heavy loads. Pretty much as a matter of course, each man
brought his own effects. Clothes, tobacco, rum, small-stores,
bedding, quadrants, and similar property, was that
first attended to. At that moment, little was thought of the
skins and oil. The cargo was neglected, while the minor
articles had been eagerly sought.
Roswell was on board his own schooner, now again in
dangerous proximity to the cape. She was steadily setting
in, when Daggett rejoined him. The crew of the lost vessel
remained in the house, where they lighted a fire and deposited
their goods, returning to the wreck for another load,
taking the double sets of wheels along with them. When the
two masters met, they conferred together earnestly, receiving
into their councils such of the officers as were on board.
The security of the remaining vessel was now all-important;
and it was not to be concealed that she was in imminent
towards the most rugged part of Cape Hazard; and the
rate of the movement such as to threaten a very speedy
termination of the matter. There was one circumstance,
however, and only that one, which offered a single chance
of escape. The opening around the schooner still existed
in part, about half of it having been lost in the collision
with the outermost point of the rocks. It was this species
of vacuum that, by removing all resistance at that particular
spot, indeed, which had given the field its most dangerous
cant, turning the movement of the vessel towards the
rocks. The chance, therefore, existed in the possibility—
and it was little more than a bare possibility — of moving
the schooner in that small area of open water, and of taking
her far enough south to clear the most southern extremity
of the wall of stone that protected the cove. As yet, this
open water did not extend far enough to admit of the
schooner's being taken to the point in question; but it was
slowly tending in that direction, and did not the basin
close altogether ere that desirable object was achieved, the
vessel might yet be saved. In order, however, to do this,
it would be necessary to cut a sort of dock or slip in the
ice of the cove, into which the craft might shoot, as a place
of refuge. Once within the cove, fairly behind the point
of the rocks, there would be perfect safety; if suffered to
drift to the southward of that shelter, this schooner would
probably be lost like her consort, and very much in the
same manner.
Gardiner now sent a gang of hands to the desired point,
armed with saws, and the slip was commenced. The ice
in the cove was still only two or three inches thick, and the
work went bravely on. Instead of satisfying himself with
cutting a passage merely behind the point of rock, Hazard
opened one quite up into the cove, to the precise place
where the schooner had been so long at anchor. Just as
the sun was setting, the crisis arrived. So heavy had been
the movement towards the rocks, that Roswell saw he
could delay no longer. Were he to continue where he
was, a projection on the cape would prevent his passage to
the entrance of the cove; he would be shut in, and he
might be certain that the Sea Lion would be crushed as
were cut out accordingly, the jib was hoisted, and the
schooner wore short round on her heel. The space between
the floe and the projection in the rocks just named,
did not now exceed a hundred feet; and it was lessening
fast. Much more room existed on each side of this particular
excrescence in the rugged coast, the space north
being still considerable, while that to the southward might
be a hundred yards in width; the former of these areas
being owing to the form of the basin, and the latter to the
shape of the shore.
In the first of the basins named, the schooner wore short
round on her heel, her foresail being set to help her. A
breathless moment passed as she ran down towards the
narrow strait. It was quickly reached, and that none too
soon; the opening now not exceeding sixty feet. The yards
of the vessel almost brushed the rocks in passing; but she
went clear. As soon as in the lower basin, as one might
call it, the jib and foresail were taken in, and the head of
the mainsail was got on the craft. This helped her to luff
up towards the slip, which she reached under sufficient
head-way fairly to enter it. Lines were thrown to the people
on the ice, who soon hauled the schooner up to the head
of her frozen dock. Three cheers broke spontaneously out
of the throats of the men, as they thus achieved the step
which assured them of the safety of the vessel, so far as the
ice was concerned! In this way do we estimate our advantages
and disadvantages, by comparison. In the abstract,
the situation of the sealers was still sufficiently painful;
though compared with what it would have been with the
other schooner wrecked, it was security itself.
By this time it was quite dark; and a day of excitement
and fatigue required a night of rest. After supping, the
men turned in; the Vineyarders mostly in the house, where
they occupied their old bunks. When the moon rose, the
party from the wreck arrived, with their carts well loaded,
and themselves half frozen, notwithstanding their toil. In
a short time, all were buried in sleep.
When Roswell Gardiner came on deck next morning,
his first glance told him how little was the chance of his
party's returning north that season. The strange floe had
lining the shores far and near with broken and glittering
cakes of ice; and, as it were, hermetically sealing the place
against all egress. New ice, an inch or two thick, or even
six or eight inches thick, might have been sawed through,
and a passage cut even for a league, should it be necessary.
Such things were sometimes done, and great as would have
been the toil, our sealers would have attempted it, in preference
to running the risk of passing a winter in that
region. But almost desperate as would have been even
that source of refuge, the party was completely cut off from
its possession. To think of sawing through ice as thick as
that of the floe, for any material distance, would be like a
project to tunnel the Alps.
Melancholy was the meeting between Roswell and Daggett
that morning. The former was too manly and generous
to indulge in reproaches, else might he well have told the
last that all this was owing to him. There is a singular
propensity in us all to throw the burthen of our own blunders
on the shoulders of other folk. Roswell had a little
of this weakness, overlooking the fact that he was his own
master; and as he had come to the group by himself, he
ought to have left it in the same manner, as soon as his
own particular task was accomplished. But Roswell did
not see this quite as distinctly as he saw the fact that Daggett's
detentions and indirect appeals to his better feelings
had involved him in all these difficulties. Still, while thus
he felt, he made no complaint.
All hope of getting north that season now depended on
the field-ice's drifting away from the Great Bay before it
got fairly frozen in. So jammed and crammed with it did
every part of the bay appear to be, however, that little
could be expected from that source of relief. This Daggett
admitted in the conversation he held with Roswell, as
soon as the latter joined him on the rocky terrace beneath
the house.
“The wisest thing we can do, then,” replied our hero,
“will be to make as early preparations as possible to meet
the winter. If we are to remain here, a day gained now
will be worth a week a month hence. If we should happily
escape, the labour thus expended will not kill us.”
“Quite true—very much as you say, certainly,” answered
Daggett, musing. “I was thinking as you came ashore,
Gar'ner, if a lucky turn might not be made in this wise:—
I have a good many skins in the wreck, you see, and you
have a good deal of ile in your hold—now, by starting some
of that ile, and pumping it out, and shooking the casks,
room might be made aboard of you for all my skins. I
think we could run all of the last over on them wheels in
the course of a week.”
“Captain Daggett, it is by yielding so much to your
skins that we have got into all this trouble.”
“Skins, measure for measure, in the way of tonnage,
will bring a great deal more than ile.”
Roswell smiled, and muttered something to himself, a
little bitterly. He was thinking of the grievous disappointment
and prolonged anxiety that it pained him to believe
Mary would feel at his failure to return home at the appointed
time; though it would probably have pained him
more to believe she would not thus be disappointed and
anxious. Here his displeasure, or its manifestation, ceased;
and the young man turned his thoughts on the present necessities
of his situation.
Daggett appearing very earnest on the subject of removing
his skins before the snows came to impede the
path, Roswell could urge no objection that would be likely
to prevail; but his acquiescence was obtained by means
of a hint from Stimson, who by this time had gained his
officer's ear.
“Let him do it, Captain Gar'ner,” said the boat-steerer,
in an aside, speaking respectfully, but earnestly. “He'll
never stow'em in our hold, this season at least; but they'll
make excellent filling-in for the sides of this hut.”
“You think then, Stephen, that we are likely to pass
the winter here?”
“We are in the hands of Divine Providence, sir, which
will do with us as seems the best in the eyes of never-failing
wisdom. At all events, Captain Gar'ner, I think 'twill
be safest to act at once as if we had the winter afore us.
In my judgment, this house might be made a good deal
more comfortable for us all, in such a case, than our craft;
for we should not only have more room, but might have as
for.”
“Ay, there's the difficulty, Stephen. Where are we to
find wood, throughout a polar winter, for even one fire?”
“We must be saving, sir, and thoughtful, and keep ourselves
warm as much as we can by exercise. I have had a
taste of this once, in a small way, already; and know what
ought to be done, in many partic'lars. In the first place,
the men must keep themselves as clean as water will make
them—dirt is a great helper of cold — and the water must
be just as frosty as human natur' can bear it. This will set
everything into actyve movement inside, and bring out
warmth from the heart, as it might be. That's my principle
of keeping warm, Captain Gar'ner.”
“I dare say it may be a pretty good one, Stephen,” answered
Roswell, “and we'll bear it in mind. As for stoves
we are well enough off, for there is one in the house, and a
good large one it is; then, there is a stove in each cabin,
and there are the two cambooses. If we had fuel for them
all, I should feel no concern on the score of warmth.”
“There's the wrack, sir. By cutting her up at once,
we should get wood enough, in my judgment, to see it
out.”
Roswell made no reply; but he looked intently at the
boat-steerer for half a minute. The idea was new to him;
and the more he thought on the subject, the greater was
the confidence it gave him in the result. Daggett, he well
knew, would not consent to the mutilation of his schooner,
wreck as it was, so long as the most remote hope existed
of getting her again into the water. The tenacity with
which this man clung to property was like that which is
imputed to the life of the cat; and it was idle to expect
any concessions from him on a subject like that. Nevertheless,
necessity is a hard master; and if the question
were narrowed down to one of burning the materials of a
vessel that was in the water, and in good condition, and
of burning those of one that was out of the water, with
holes cut through her bottom in several places, and otherwise
so situated as to render repairs extremely difficult, if
not impossible, even Daggett would be compelled to submit
to circumstances.
It was accordingly suggested to the people of the Vineyard
Lion that they could do no better than to begin at
once to remove everything they could come at, and which
could be transported from the wreck to the house. As
there was little to do on board the vessel afloat, her crew
cheerfully offered to assist in this labour. The days were
shortening sensibly and fast, and no time was to be lost,
the distance being so great as to make two trips a day a
matter of great labour. No sooner was the plan adopted,
therefore, than steps were taken to set about its execution.
It is unnecessary for us to dwell minutely on everything
that occurred during the succeeding week or ten days.
The wind shifted to south-west the very day that the Sea
Lion got back into her little harbour; and this seemed to
put a sudden check on the pressure of the vast floe. Nevertheless,
there was no counter-movement, the ice remaining
in the Great Bay seemingly as firmly fastened as if it
had originally been made there. Notwithstanding this shift
of the wind to a cold point of the compass, the thermometer
rose, and it thawed freely about the middle of the day, in
all places to which the rays of the sun had access. This
enabled the men to work with more comfort than they
could have done in the excessively severe weather; as it
was found that respiration became difficult when it was so
very cold.
Access was now obtained to the wreck by cutting a regular
passage to the main hatch through the ice. The
schooner stood nearly upright, sustained by fragments of
the floe; and there were extensive caverns all around her,
produced by the random manner in which the cakes had
come up out of their proper element like so many living
things. Among these caverns one might have wandered
for miles without once coming out into the open air, though
they were cold and cheerless, and had little to attract the
adventurer after the novelty was abated. In rising from
the water, the schooner had been roughly treated; but
once sustained by the ice, her transit had been easy and
tolerably safe. Several large cakes lay on or over her,
sustained more by other cakes that rested on the rocks
than by the timbers of the vessel herself. These cakes
formed a sort of roof, and as they did not drip, they served
the wreck lay, the south-west gales came howling round
the base of the mountain, piercing the marrow itself in the
bones. At the hut it was very different. There the heights
made a lee that extended all over the cape, and for some
distance to the westward; while the whole power the sun
possessed in that high latitude was cast, very obliquely it
is true, but clearly, and without any other drawback than
its position in the ecliptic, fairly on the terrace, the hut
above, and the rocks around it. On the natural terrace,
indeed, it was still pleasant to walk and work, and even to
sit for a few hours in the middle of the day; for winter was
not yet come in earnest in that frozen world.
One of Roswell's first objects was to transport most of
the eatables from the wreck; for he foresaw the need there
would be for everything of the sort. Neither vessel had
laid in a stock of provisions for a longer period than about
twelve months, of which nearly half were now gone. This
allowance applied to salted meats and bread, which are
usually regarded as the base of a ship's stores. There were
several barrels of flour, a few potatoes, a large quantity of
onions, a few barrels of corn-meal, or `injin,' as it is usually
termed in American parlance, an entire barrel of pickled
cucumbers, another about half full of cabbage preserved in
the same way, and an entire barrel of molasses. In addition,
there was a cask of whiskey, a little wine and brandy
to be used medicinally, sugar, brown, whitey-brown and
browny-white, and a pretty fair allowance of tea and coffee;
the former being a Hyson-skin, and the latter San Domingo
of no very high quality. Most of these articles were transported
from the wreck to the house, in the course of the
few days that succeeded, though Daggett insisted on a certain
portion of the supplies being left in his stranded craft.
Not until this was done would Roswell listen to any proposal
of Daggett's to transfer the skins. Twice during
these few days, indeed, did the Vineyard master come to a
pause in his proceedings, as the weather grew milder, and
gleams of a hope of being able yet to get away that season
crossed his mind. On the last of these occasions of misgiving,
Roswell was compelled to lead his brother master
up on the plain of the island, to an elevation of some three
half that distance higher than the house, and point out to
him a panorama of field-ice that the eye could not command.
Until that vast plain opened, or became riven by
the joint action of the agitated ocean and the warmth of a
sun from which the rays did not glance away from the
frozen surface, like light obliquely received, and as obliquely
reflected from a mirror, it was useless to think of
releasing even the uninjured vessel; much less that which
lay riven and crushed on the rocks.
“Were every cake of this ice melted into water, Daggett,”
Roswell continued, “it would not float off your
schooner. The best supplied ship-yard in America could
hardly furnish the materials for ways to launch her; and I
never knew of a vessel's being dropped into the water some
twenty feet nearly perpendicular.”
“I don't know that,” answered Daggett, stoutly. “See
what they're doing now-a-days, and think nothing of it.
I have seen a whole row of brick houses turned round by
the use of jack-screws; and one building actually taken
down a hill much higher than the distance you name.
Commodore Rodgers has just hauled a heavy frigate out
of the water, and means to put her back again, when he
has done with her. What has been done once can be done
twice. I do not like giving up 'till I'm forced to it.”
“That is plain enough, Captain Daggett,” returned Roswell,
smiling. “That you are game, no one can deny; but
it will all come to nothing. Neither Commodore Rodgers
nor Commodore anybody else could put your craft into the
water again without something to do it with.”
“You think it would be asking too much to take your
schooner, and go across to the main next season a'ter timber
to make ways?” put in Daggett, inquiringly. “She stands
up like a church, and nothing would be easier than to lay
down ways under her bottom.”
“Or more difficult than to make them of any use, after
you had put them there. No, no, my good sir, you must
think no more of this; though it may be possible to make
a cover for the cargo, and return and recover it all, by
freighting a craft from Rio, on our way north.”
Daggett gave a quick, inquisitive glance at his companion,
while he really thought the plan just mentioned quite feasible,
he was conscious of foreseeing that it might be made
the means of throwing off his troublesome companion, as
he himself drew near to the West Indies and their keys.
This terminated the discussion for the time. Both of the
masters busied themselves in carrying on the duty which
had now fallen into a regular train. As much of the interest
of what is to be related will depend on what was
done in these few days, it may be well to be a little more
explicit in stating the particulars.
The reader will understand that the house, of which so
much had already been made by our mariners, was nothing
but a shell. It had a close roof, one that effectually turned
water, and its siding, though rough, was tight and rather
thicker than is usual; being made of common inch boards,
roughly planed, and originally painted red. There were
four very tolerable windows, and a decent substantial floor
of planed plank. All this had been well put together, rather
more attention than is often bestowed on such structures
having been paid by the carpenter to the cracks and joints
on account of the known sharpness of the climate, even in
the warm months. Still, all this made a mere shell. The
marrow-freezing winds which would soon come — had indeed
come — might be arrested by such a covering, it is
true; but the little needle-like particles of the frost would
penetrate such a shelter, as their counterparts of steel
pierce cloth. It was a matter of life and death, therefore,
to devise means to exclude the cold, in order that the vital
heat might be kept in circulation during the tremendous
season that was known to be approaching.
Stimson had much to say on the subject of the arrangements
taken. He was the oldest man in the two crews,
and the most experienced sealer. It happened that he had
once passed a winter at Orange Harbour, in the immediate
vicinity of Cape Horn. It is true, that is an inhabited
country, if the poor degraded creatures who dwell there
can be termed inhabitants; and has its trees and vegetation,
such as they are. The difference between Orange
Harbour and Sealer's Land, in this respect, must be something
like that which all the travelling world knows to exist
St. Bernard, and a winter's residence at one of the villages
a few leagues lower down the mountain. At Sealer's Land,
if there was literally no vegetation, there was so little as
scarcely to deserve the name. Of fuel there was none, with
the exception of that which had been brought there. Nevertheless,
the experience of a winter passed at such a place
as Orange Harbour, must count for a great deal. Cape
Horn is in nearly 56°, and Sealer's Land—we may as well
admit this much — is, by no means, 10° to the southward
of that. There must be a certain general resemblance in
the climates of the two places; and he who had gone
through a winter at one of them, must have had a very
tolerable foretaste of what was to be suffered at the
other. This particular experience, therefore, added to his
general knowledge, as well as to his character, contributed
largely to Stephen's influence in the consultations that took
place between the two masters, at which he was usually
present.
“It's useless to be playing off, in an affair like this,
Captain Gar'ner,” said Stephen, on one occasion. “Away
from this spot all the navies of the 'arth could not now
carry us, until God's sun comes back in his course, to drive
the winter away afore it. I have my misgivin's, gentlemen,
touching this great floe that has got jammed in among these
islands, whether it will ever move ag'in; for I don't think
its coming in here is a common matter.”
“In which case, what would become of us, Stephen?”
“Why, sir, we should be at God's marcy, then, jist as
we be now; or would be, was we on the east eend itself.
I won't say that two resolute and strong arms might not cut
a way through for one little craft like ourn, if they had
summer fully afore 'em, and know'd they was a-workin' towards
a fri'nd instead of towards an inimy. There's a
great deal in the last; every man is encouraged when he
thinks he's nearer to the eend of his journey a'ter a hard
day's work, than he was when he set out in the mornin'.
But to undertake sich an expedition at this season, would
be sartain destruction. No, sir; all we can do, now, is to
lay up for the winter, and that with great care and prudence.
show their forethought and care.”
“What would you recommend as our first step, Stimson?”
asked Daggett, who had been an attentive listener.
“I would advise, sir, to begin hardening the men as
soon as I could. We have too much fire in the stove, both
for our stock of wood and for the good of the people. Make
the men sleep under fewer clothes, and don't let any on 'em
hang about the galley fire, as some on 'em love to do, even
now, most desperately. Them 'ere men will be good for
nothin' ten weeks hence, unless they're taken off the fires,
as a body would take off a pot or a kettle, and are set out
to harden.”
“This is a process that may be easier advised than performed,
perhaps,” Roswell quietly observed.
“Don't you believe that, Captain Gar'ner. I've known
the most shiverin', smoke-dried hands in a large crew,
hardened and brought to an edge, a'ter a little trouble, as
a body would temper an axe with steel. The first thing to
be done is to make 'em scrub one another every mornin'
in cold water. This gives a life to the skin that acts much
the same as a suit of clothes. Yes, gentlemen; put a fellow
in a tub for a minute or two of a mornin', and you may
do almost anything you please with him all day a'terwards.
One pail of water is as good as a pee-jacket. And above
all things, keep the stoves clear. The cooks should be told
not to drive their fires so hard; and we can do without the
stove in the sleeping-room a great deal better now than
most on us think. It will help to save much wood, if we
begin at once to caulk and thicken our siding, and make
the house warmer. Was the hut in a good state, we might
do without any other fire than that in the camboose for two
months yet.”
Such was the general character of Stephen's counsel,
and very good advice it was. Not only did Roswell adopt
the scrubbing process, which enabled him to throw aside a
great many clothes in the course of a week, but he kept
aloof from the fires, to harden, as Stimson had called it.
That which was thus enforced by example was additionally
enjoined by precept. Several large, hulking, idle fellows,
who greatly loved the fire, were driven away from it by
equally through the building.
Any one who has ever had occasion to be a witness of
the effect of the water-cure process in enabling even delicate
women to resist cold and damp, may form some notion
of the great improvement that was made among our sealers,
by adopting and rigidly adhering to Stimson's cold water
and no-fire system. Those who had shivered at the very
thoughts of ice-water, soon dabbled in it like young ducks;
and there was scarcely an hour in the day when the half-hogshead,
that was used as a bath, had not its tenant. This
tub was placed on the ice of the cove, with a tent over it;
and a well was made through which the water was drawn.
Of course, the axe was in great request, a new hole being
required each morning, and sometimes two or three times
in the course of the day. The effect of these ablutions was
very soon apparent. The men began to throw aside their
pee-jackets, and worked in their ordinary clothing, which
was warm and suited to a high latitude, with a spirit and
vigour at which they were themselves surprised. The fire
in the camboose sufficed as yet; and, at evening, the pee-jacket,
with the shelter of the building, the crowded rooms,
and the warm meals, for a long time enabled them to get
on without consuming anything in the largest stove. Stimson's
plans for the protection of the hut, moreover, soon
began to tell. The skins, sails, and much of the rigging,
were brought over from the wreck; by means of the carts,
so long as there was no snow, and by means of sledges
when the snow fell and rendered wheeling difficult. Luckily,
the position of the road along the rocks caused the upper
snow to melt a little at noon-day, while it froze again,
firmer and firmer, each night. The crust soon bore, and
it was found that the sledges furnished even better means
of transportation than the wheels.
There was a little controversy about the use of the skins,
Daggett continuing to regard them as cargo. Necessity
and numbers prevailed in the end, and the whole building
was lined with them, four or five deep, by placing them
inside of beckets made of the smaller rigging. By stuffing
these skins compactly, within ropes so placed as to keep
all snug, a very material defence against the entrance of
skins Stimson got up hangings of canvass, using the sails
of the wreck for that purpose. It was not necessary to cut
these sails—Daggett would not have suffered it — but they
were suspended, and crammed into openings, and otherwise
so arranged as completely to conceal and shelter every
side, as well as the ceilings of both rooms. Portions were
fitted with such address as to fall before the windows, to
which they formed very warm if not very ornamental curtains.
Stephen, however, induced Roswell to order outside
shutters to be made and hung; maintaining that one
such shutter would soon count as a dozen cords of wood.
Much of the wood, too, was brought over from the wreck;
and that which had been carelessly abandoned on the rocks
was all collected and piled carefully and conveniently near
the outer door of the hut; which door, by the way, looked
inward, or towards the rocks in the rear of the building,
where it opened on a sort of yard, that Roswell hoped to
be able to keep clear of ice and snow throughout the winter.
He might as well have expected to melt the glaciers
of Grindewald by lighting a fire on the meadows at their
base!
Stephen had another project to protect the house, and to
give facilities for moving outside, when the winter should
be at the hardest. In his experience at Orange Harbour,
he had found that great inconvenience was sustained in
consequence of the snow's melting around the building he
inhabited, which came from the warmth of the fire within
To avoid this, a very serious evil, he had spare sails of
heavy canvass laid across the roof of the warehouse, a
building of no great height, and secured them to the rocks
below by means of anchors, kedges, and various other devices;
in some instances, by lashings to projections in the
cliffs. Spare spars, leaning from the roof, supported this
tent-like covering, and props beneath sustained the spars.
This arrangement was made on only two sides of the building,
one end, and the side which looked to the north;
materials failing before the whole place was surrounded.
The necessity for admitting light, too, admonished the
sealers of the inexpediency of thus shrouding all their windows.
The bottom of this tent was only ten feet from the
had been more horizontal, while it made a species of
verandah in which exercise could be taken with greater
freedom than in the rooms. Everything was done to
strengthen the building in all its parts that the ingenuity
of seamen could suggest; and particularly to prevent the
tent-verandah from caving in.
Stephen intimated that their situation possessed one
great advantage, as well as disadvantage. In consequence
of standing on a shelf with a lower terrace so close as to
be within the cast of a shovel, the snow might be thrown
below, and the hut relieved. The melted snow, too, would
be apt to take the same direction, under the law that governs
the course of all fluids. The disadvantage was in the
barrier of rock behind the hut, which, while it served admirably
to break the piercing south winds, would very
naturally tend to make high snow-banks in drifting storms.
| CHAPTER VIII. The sea lions, or, The lost sealers | |