An Antarctic Mystery by Jules Verne (most inspirational books .txt) 📕

“There, where perhaps William Guy and his companions are also waiting,” said I, to bring back the discussion to more practical points.

Captain Len Guy reflected for a little while, and then spoke:

“Is it true, Dirk Peters,” he asked, “that beyond the eighty-fourth parallel the horizon is shut in by that curtain of vapour which is described in the narrative? Have you seen⁠—seen with your own eyes⁠—those cataracts in the air, that gulf in which Arthur Pym’s boat was lost?”

The half-breed looked from one to the other of us, and shook his big head.

“I don’t know,” he said. “What are you asking me about, captain? A curtain of vapour? Yes, perhaps, and also appearances of land towards the south.”

Evidently Dirk Peters had never read Edgar Poe’s book, and very likely did not know how to read. After having handed over Pym’s journal, he had not troubled himself about its publication. Having retired to Illinois at first and to the Falklands afterwards, he had no notion of the stir that the work had made, or of the fantastic and baseless climax to which our great poet had brought those strange adventures.

And, besides, might not Arthur Pym himself, with his tendency to the supernatural, have fancied that he saw these wondrous things, due solely to his imaginative brain?

Then, for the first time in the course of this discussion, West’s voice made itself heard. I had no idea which side he would take. The first words he uttered were:

“Captain, your orders?”

Captain Len Guy turned towards his crew, who surrounded him, both the old and the new. Hearne remained in the background, ready to intervene if he should think it necessary.

The captain questioned the boatswain and his comrades, whose devotion was unreservedly his, by a long and anxious look, and I heard him mutter between his teeth⁠—

“Ah! if it depended only on me! if I were sure of the assent and the help of them all!”

Then Hearne spoke roughly:

“Captain,” said he, “it’s two months since we left the Falklands. Now, my companions were engaged for a voyage which was not to take them farther beyond the icebergs than Tsalal Island.”

“That is not so,” exclaimed Captain Len Guy. “No! That is not so. I recruited you all for an enterprise which I have a right to pursue, so far as I please.”

“Beg pardon,” said Hearne, coolly, “but we have come to a point which no navigator has ever yet reached, in a sea, no ship except the Jane has ever ventured into before us, and therefore my comrades and I mean to return to the Falklands before the bad season. From there you can return to Tsalal Island, and even go on to the Pole, if you so please.”

A murmur of approbation greeted his words; no doubt the sealing-master justly interpreted the sentiments of the majority, composed of the new recruits. To go against their opinion, to exact the obedience of these ill-disposed men, and under such conditions to risk the unknown Antarctic waters, would have been an act of temerity⁠—or, rather, an act of madness⁠—that would have brought about some catastrophe.

Nevertheless, West, advancing upon Hearne, said to him in a threatening tone, “Who gave you leave to speak?”

“The captain questioned us,” replied Hearne. “I had a right to reply.”

The man uttered these words with such insolence that West, who was generally so self-restrained, was about to give free vent to his wrath, when Captain Len Guy, stopping him by a motion of his hand, said quietly⁠—

“Be calm, Jem. Nothing can be done unless we are all agreed. What is your opinion, Hurliguerly?”

“It is very clear, captain,” replied the boatswain. “I will obey your orders, whatever they may be! It is our duty not to forsake William Guy and the others so long as any chance of saving them remains.”

The boatswain paused for a moment, while several of the sailors gave unequivocal signs of approbation.

“As for what concerns Arthur Pym⁠—”

“There is no question of Arthur Pym,” struck in the captain, “but only of my brother William and his companions.”

I saw at this moment that Dirk Peters was about to protest, and caught hold of his arm. He shook with anger, but kept silence.

The captain continued his questioning of the men, desiring to know by name all those upon whom he might reckon. The old crew to a man acquiesced in his proposals, and pledged themselves to obey his orders implicitly and follow him whithersoever he chose to go.

Three only of the recruits joined those faithful seamen; these were English sailors. The others were of Hearne’s opinion, holding that for them the campaign was ended at Tsalal Island. They therefore refused to go beyond that point, and formally demanded that the ship should be steered northward so as to clear the icebergs at the most favourable period of the season.

Twenty men were on their side, and to constrain them to lend a hand to the working of the ship if she were to be diverted to the south would have been to provoke them to rebel. There was but one resource: to arouse their covetousness, to strike the chord of self-interest.

I intervened, therefore, and addressed them in a tone which placed the seriousness of my proposal beyond a doubt.

“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