"I don't believe in luck," said Captain McBain; "and, after all, things might have turned out even worse than they have."

"Oh!" said Silas, "I'm not the man to grumble or growl. We are comfortable and jolly, and we have plenty to eat."

"We won't have much sport, though," said Rory, with a sigh, "if we have to remain here long, for the bears will follow the seals, won't they?"

"That they will," replied Silas, "and small blame to them; it is exactly what I should like to do myself."

"Well, you can, you know," said McBain, laughing. "We have a splendid balloon. De Vere will take you for a fly I'm sure, if you'll ask him."

"What! trust myself up in the clouds!" cried Silas; "thank you very much for the offer, but if ill-luck has kept following my footsteps all my life, ill-luck would be sure to follow me if I attempted any aerial flights, and I'd come down by the run."

"Well, we're fairly beset, anyhow," said Rory, "and I daresay we'll have to try to make the best of it."

So guns were placed disconsolately ill the racks, as soon as the terrible black frost had quite set in, or if they were taken out when a walk was determined on, it was only for fashion's sake, and for the fear that an occasional bear might be met with. But it was good fun breaking bottles with rifle bullets, and good practice as well. As the days went on, and there were no signs of the pack breaking up, a number of books were taken down to be perused, much time was spent in playing piano or violin, or both together, while after dinner the hours were devoted to talking. Many a racy yarn was told by Cobb, many an adventure by Seth, and many a queer experience by Silas Grig, and duly appreciated, too.

So the evenings did not seem long, whatever the days did.

Said Silas one morning to McBain, as they stood together leaning on the bulwarks.

"I don't quite like the look of that ice, captain; it is precious big, and if it came on to press a bit, why, it would go clean through the ribs of us, strong though our good ships are. And that c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l of Cobb's would be the very first to go down to the bottom."

"Or up to the top," suggested McBain.

"What?" laughed Silas; "would you clap your balloon top of her, and lift her out like?"

"No, not that; but we could hoist her high and dry on top of the ice easily enough."

"Well, I declare," cried Silas, clapping one brawny hand on his knee, "that is a glorious idea. And an old iceman like me to never think of it!"

Then Silas's face fell, as he said,--

"Ah! but you couldn't hoist me up too. The _Canny Scotia_ would go down; that would be more of my luck."

"Well, but I've thought of a plan. I have torpedoes on board. I'll have a go at this ice, anyhow."

"Make a kind of harbour, you mean?" inquired Silas.

"That's it," was the reply.

"But," said Silas, still somewhat dubious, "you know the currents run like mill-streams in under the ice. Well, suppose your torpedoes were to be floated in under my ship, and went bursting off there?"

"Well, your ship would be hoisted," replied McBain; "that would be all."

"Ay!" said Silas, "that would be all; that would end all the luck, good or bad."

"But there is no fear of any such accident. And now let us just have a try at it."

Blowing up icebergs with torpedoes is by no means difficult, when you know how to do it, but sometimes the current will shift the guiding-pole or rope, and were it to get under the stern of the ship itself, it would make it awkward for the Arctic explorers. In the present instance everything went well, and berg after berg succ.u.mbed to the force of the gun-cotton, until the last, when, by some mismanagement, one torpedo was shifted right under a piece of ice on which stood, tools in hand, about ten men, besides Silas, Rory, and Captain McBain himself. Of course it was not likely that boy Rory was going to be far away when any fun was going on, so that is why he happened to be on top of this identical berg when the blowing-up took place. And here is precisely what was seen by disinterested bystanders--a smother of snow and water and ice, mixed, rising in shape of a rounded column over ten feet high, and, dimly visible in the misty midst thereof, a minglement of hands and heads and arms and legs. The sound accompanying the columnar rising was something between a puff and a thud; I cannot better describe it. Then there was a sudden collapse, and next moment the arms and the legs and the hands and the heads were all seen sprawling and struggling in the frothy, seething water below. It simply and purely looked as if they were all being boiled alive in a huge cauldron. But the strangest part of the story is to come. With the exception of a few trifling braises, not one of those who were thus surprised by so sudden a rise in the world was a bit the worse. The ducking in the cold sea was certainly far from pleasant, but dry clothes and hot coffee soon put that to rights, and they came up smiling again.

Freezing Powders, who was on deck at the time of the accident, was dreadfully frightened, and ran down below instantly to report matters to his favourite.

"What's the row? What's the row? What's the row?" cried the bird as the boy entered the saloon.

"Don't talk so fast, c.o.c.kie, and I'll tell you," said Freezing Powders, sinking down on the deck with one arm on the cage. "I tink I'se all right at present, though my breaf is all frightened out of my body, and I must look 'bout as pale as you, c.o.c.kie."

"De-ah me!" said c.o.c.kie.

"But don't hang by de legs, c.o.c.kie. When you wants a mouf-ful of hemp just hop down for it, else de blood all run to your poor head, den you die in a fit?"

"Poor de-ah c.o.c.kie! Pretty old c.o.c.kie!" said the bird, in mournful tones.

"And now I got my breaf again, I try to 'splain to you what am de row.

De drefful world round de ship is all white, c.o.c.kie, and to-day dey has commenced blowing it up, and jus' now, c.o.c.kie, dey has commenced to blow derselves up?"

"De-ah me!" from c.o.c.kie.

"Dat am quite true, c.o.c.kie, and de heads and de legs am flying about in all directions! It is too drefful to behold!"

"Now then, young Roley Poley!" cried Peter, entering at that moment, "toddle away forward for some boiling-hot coffee, and run quicker than ever you ran in your life."

"I'se off like a bird!" said Freezing Powders, darting out of the cabin as if there had been a boot after him.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

CAPTAIN COBB RETIRES--MORE TORPEDOING--THE GREAT ICE-HOLE--STRANGE SPORT--THE TERRIBLE ZUGAENA--THE DEATH STRUGGLE.

Both Captain McBain and Silas Grig felt more easy in their minds when they had got fairly rid of the green-rooted monsters of icebergs that had lain so placidly yet so threateningly alongside their respective ships. And oh! by the way, how very calm, harmless, and gentle bergs like these _can_ look, when there is no disturbing element beneath them, their snow-clad tops asleep and glistening in the sunlight; but I have seen them angry, grinding and crashing together, each upheaval representing a height of from fifteen to thirty feet; each upheaval representing a strength hydraulic equal in force to the might of the great ocean itself.

Our heroes had taken time by the forelock. They had "guncottoned the bergs," as Captain Cobb termed it, and lay for the time being in square ice-locked harbours, and could bid defiance to almost any ordinary occurrence, whether gale of wind in the pack or swell from the distant sea.

As the days went by the black frost seemed only to increase in severity.

"How long d'ye think," said Captain Cobb, one morning, while at breakfast in the _Arrandoon_--"how long d'ye think this state of affairs'll last? 'cause, mind ye, I begin to feel a kind o' riled already."

McBain looked inquiringly at Silas.

"If it's asking me you are," said the latter, "I makes answer and says, it may be for months, but it can't be for ever."

"But the frost isn't likely to go for a week, is it now?"

"That it won't, worse luck," was the reply.

"Well, then, gentlemen," said Cobb, "this child is going off, straight away out o' here back to Jan Mayen."

"Back to Jan Mayen?"

"Back to Jan Mayen!" everybody said, or seemed to say, in one breath.

"I reckon ye heard aright," said the imperturbable Yankee.