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Authors: Jules Verne

BOOK: An Antarctic Mystery
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As for me, I was possessed by the desire to rescue Arthur Pym as
well as the survivors of the
Jane
. And yet, how could he have
survived! But then, the half-breed's fixed idea! Supposing our
captain were to give the order to go back, what would Dirk Peters
do? Throw himself into the sea rather than return northwards? This
it was which made me dread some act of violence on his part, when he
heard the greater number of the sailors protesting against this
insensate voyage, and talking of putting the ship about, especially
towards Hearne, who was stealthily inciting his comrades of the
Falklands to insubordination.

It was absolutely necessary not to allow discipline to decline, or
discouragement to grow among the crew; so that, on the 7th of
January, Captain Len Guy at my request assembled the men and
addressed them in the following words:—

"Sailors of the
Halbrane
, since our departure from Tsalal Island,
the schooner has gained two degrees southwards, and I now inform
you, that, conformably with the engagement signed by Mr. Jeorling,
four thousand dollars—that is two thousand dollars for each
degree—are due to you, and will be paid at the end of the
voyage."

These words were greeted with some murmurs of satisfaction, but not
with cheers, except those of Hurliguerly the boatswain, and Endicott
the cook, which found no echo.

On the 13th of January a conversation took place between the
boatswain and myself of a nature to justify my anxiety concerning
the temper of our crew.

The men were at breakfast, with the exception of Drap and Stern. The
schooner was cutting the water under a stiff breeze. I was walking
between the fore and main masts, watching the great flights of birds
wheeling about the ship with deafening clangour, and the petrels
occasionally perching on our yards. No effort was made to catch or
shoot them; it would have been useless cruelty, since their oily and
stringy flesh is not eatable.

At this moment Hurliguerly approached me, looked attentively at the
birds, and said,—

"I remark one thing, Mr. Jeorling."

"What is it, boatswain?"

"That these birds do not fly so directly south as they did up to
the present. Some of them are setting north."

"I have noticed the same fact."

"And I add, Mr. Jeorling, that those who are below there will come
back without delay."

"And you conclude from this?"

"I conclude that they feel the approach of winter."

"Of winter?"

"Undoubtedly."

"No, no, boatswain; the temperature is so high that the birds
can't want to get to less cold regions so prematurely."

"Oh! prematurely, Mr. Jeorling."

"Yes, boatswain; do we not know that navigators have always been
able to frequent the Antarctic waters until the month of March?"

"Not at such a latitude. Besides, there are precocious winters as
well as precocious summers. The fine season this year was full two
months in advance, and it is to ba feared the bad season may come
sooner than usual."

"That is very likely," I replied. "After all, it does not
signity to us, since our campaign will certainly be over in three
weeks."

"If some obstacle does not arise beforehand, Mr. Jeorling."

"And what obstacle?"

"For instance, a continent stretching to the south and barring our
way."

"A continent, Hurliguerly!"

"I should not be at all surprised."

"And, in fact, there would be nothing surprising in it."

"As for the lands seen by Dirk Peters," said the boatswain,
"where the men of the
Jane
might have landed on one or another of
them, I don't believe in them."

"Why?"

"Because William Guy, who can only have had a small craft at his
disposal, could not have got so far into these seas."

"I do not feel quite so sure of that. Nevertheless, Mr.
Jeorling—"

"What would there be so surprising in William Guy's being
carried to land somewhere by the action of the currents? He did not
remain on board his boat for eight months, I suppose. His companions
and he may have been able to land on an island, or even on a
continent, and that is a sufficient motive for us to pursue our
search."

"No doubt—but all are not of your opinion," replied
Hurliguerly, shaking his head.

"I know," said I, "and that is what makes me most anxious. Is
the ill-feeling increasing?"

"I fear so, Mr. Jeorling. The satisfaction of having gained
several hundreds of dollars is already lessened, and the prospect of
gaining a few more hundreds does not put a stop to disputes. And yet
the prize is tempting! From Tsalal Island to the pole, admitting
that we might get there, is six degrees. Now six degrees at two
thousand dollars each makes twelve thousand dollars for thirty men,
that is four hundred dollars a head A nice little sum to slip into
one's pocket on the return of the
Halbrane
; but, notwithstanding,
that fellow Hearne works so wickedly upon his comrades that I
believe they are ready to 'bout ship in spite of anybody."

"I can believe that of the recruits, boatswain, but the old
crew—"

"H—m! there are three or four of those who are beginning to
reflect, and they are not easy in their minds about the prolongation
of the voyage."

"I fancy Captain Len Guy and his lieutenant will how to get
themselves obeyed."

"We shall see, Mr. Jeorling. But may it not that our captain
himself will get disheartened; that the sense of his responsibility
will prevail, and that he will renounce his enterprise?"

Yes! this was what I feared, and there was no remedy on that side.
"As for my friend Endicott, Mr. Jeorling, I answer for him as for
myself. We would go to the end of the world—if the world has an
end—did the captain want to go there. True, we two, Dirk Peters
and yourself, are but a few to be a law to the others."

"And what do you think of the half-breed?" I asked.

"Well, our men appear to accuse him chiefly of the prolongation of
the voyage. You see, Mr. Jeorling, though you have a good deal to do
with it, you pay, and pay well, while this crazy fellow, Dirk
Peters, persists in asserting that his poor Pym is still
living—his poor Pym who was drowned, or frozen, or
crushed—killed, anyhow, one way or another, eleven years ago!"

So completely was this my own belief that I never discussed the
subject with the half-breed.

"You see, Mr. Jeorling," resumed the boatswain, "at the first
some curiosity was felt about Dirk Peters. Then, after he saved
Martin Holt, it was interest. Certainly, he was no more talkative
than before, and the bear came no oftener out of his den! But now we
know what he is, and no one likes him the better for that. At all
events it was he who induced our captain, by talking of land to the
south of Tsalal Island, to make this voyage, and it is owing to him
that he has reached the eighty-sixth degree of latitude."

"That is quite true, boatswain."

"And so, Mr. Jeorling, I am always afraid that one of these days
somebody will do Peters an ill turn."

"Dirk Peters would defend himself, and I should pity the man who
laid a finger on him."

"Quite so. It would not be good for anybody to be in his hands,
for they could bend iron! But then, all being against him, he would
be forced into the hold."

"Well, well, we have not yet come to that, I hope, and I count on
you, Hurliguerly, to prevent any against Dirk Peters. Reason with
your men. Make them understand that we have time to return to the
Falklands before the end of the fine season. Their reproaches must
not be allowed to provide the captain with an excuse for turning
back before the object is attained."

"Count on me, Mr. Jeorling, I will serve you to the best of my
ability."

"You will not repent of doing so, Hurliguerly. Nothing is easier
than to add a round o to the four hundred dollars which each man is
to have, if that man be something more than a sailor—even were his
functions simply those of boatswain on board the
Halbrane
."

Nothing important occurred on the 13th and 14th, but a fresh fall in
the temperature took place. Captain Len Guy called my attention to
this, pointing out the flocks of birds continuously flying north.

While he was speaking to me I felt that his last hopes were fading.
And who could wonder? Of the land indicated by the half-breed
nothing was seen, and we were already more than one hundred and
eighty miles Tsalal Island. At every point of the compass was the
sea, nothing but the vast sea with its desert horizon which the
sun's disk had been nearing since the 21st and would touch on the
21st March, prior to during the six months of the austral night.
Honestly, was it possible to admit that William Guy and his five
panions could have accomplished such a distance on a craft, and was
there one chance in a hundred that the could ever be recovered?

On the 15th of January an observation most carefully taken gave 43°
13' longitude and 88° 17' latitude. The
Halbrane
was less than
two degrees from the pole.

Captain Len Guy did not seek to conceal the result of this
observation, and the sailors knew enough of nautical calculation to
understand it. Besides, if the consequences had to be explained to
them, were not Holt and Hardy there to do this, and Hearne, to
exaggerate them to the utmost?

During the afternoon I had indubitable proof that the sealing-master
had been working on the minds of the crew. The men, emerging at the
foot of the mainmast, talked in whispers and cast evil glances at
us. Two or three sailors made threatening gestures undisguisedly;
then arose such angry mutterings that West could not to be deaf to
them.

He strode forward and called out. "Silence, there! The first man
who speaks will have to reckon with me?"

Captain Len Guy was shut up in his cabin, but every moment I
expected to see him come out, give one last long around the waste of
waters, and then order the ship's course to be reversed.
Nevertheless, on the next day the schooner was sailing in the same
direction. Unfortunately—for the circumstance had some gravity—a
mist was beginning to come down on us. I could not keep still, I My
apprehensions were redoubled. It was that West was only awaiting the
order to change the helm. What mortal anguish soever the captain's
must be, I understood too well that he would not give that order
without hesitation.

For several days past I had not seen the half-breed, or, least, I
had not exchanged a word with him. He was boycotted by the whole
crew, with the exception of the boatswain, who was careful to
address him, although rarely got a word in return. Dirk Peters took
not faintest notice of this state of things. He remained completely
absorbed in his own thoughts, yet, had he heard West give the word
to steer north, I know not acts of violence he might have been
driven. He seemed to avoid me; was this from a desire not to
compromise me?

On the 17th, in the afternoon, however, Dirk Peters manifested an
intention of speaking to me, and never, never, could I have imagined
what I was to learn in that interview.

It was about half-past two, and, not feeling well, I gone to my
cabin, where the side window was open, that at the back was closed.
I heard a knock at the dom and asked who was there.

"Dirk Peters," was the reply.

"You want to speak to me?"

"Yes."

"I am coming out."

"If you please—I should prefer—may I come into your cabin?"

"Come in."

He entered, and shut the door behind him?

Without rising I signed to him to seat himself arm-chair, but he
remained standing.

"What do you want of me, Dirk Peters?" I asked at length, as he
seemed unable to make up his mind to speak.

"I want to tell you something—because it seems well that you
should know it, and you only. In the crew—they must never know
it."

"If it is a grave matter, and you fear any indiscretion, Dirk
Peters, why do you speak to me?"

"If!—I must! Ah, yes! I must! It is impossible to keep it there!
It weighs on me like a stone."

And Dirk Peters struck his breast violently.

Then he resumed:

"Yes! I am always afraid it may escape me during my sleep, and
that someone will hear it, for I dream of it, and in dreaming—"

"You dream," I replied, "and of what?"

"Of him, of him. Therefore it is that I sleep in corners, all
alone, for fear that his true name should be discovered."

Then it struck me that the half-breed was perhaps about to respond
to an inquiry which I had not yet made—why he had gone to live at
the Falklands under the name of Hunt after leaving Illinois?

I put the question to him, and he replied,—

"It is not that; no, it is not that I wish—"

"I insist, Dirk Peters, and I desire to know in the first place
for what reason you did not remain in America, for what reason you
chose the Falklands—"

"For what reason, sir? Because I wanted to get near Pym, my poor
Pym—beeause I hoped to find an opportunity at the Falklands of
embarking on a whaling ship bound for the southern sea."

"But that name of Hunt?"

"I would not bear my own name any longer—on account of the
affair of the
Grampus
."

The half-breed was alluding to the scene of the "short straw"
(or lot-drawing) on board the American brig, when it was decided
between Augustus Barnard, Arthur Pym, Dirk Peters, and Parker, the
sailor, that one of the four should be sacrificed—as food for the
three others. I remembered the obstinate resistance of Arthur Pym,
and how it was impossible for him to refuse to take his the tragedy
about to be performed—he says this himself—and the horrible act
whose remembrance must poison the existence of all those who had
survived it.

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