Chapter 21

"I, too, have seen thee on thy surging path
When the night-tempest met thee; thou didst dash
Thy white arms high in heaven, as if in wrath,
Threatening the angry sky; thy waves did lash
The labouring vessel, and with deadening crash
Rush madly forth to scourge its groaning sides;
Onward thy billows came, to meet and clash
In a wild warfare, till the lifted tides
Mingled their yesty tops, where the dark storm-cloud rides."

Percival.

The first movement of the mariner, when his vessel has been brought in
collision with any hard substance, is to sound the pumps. This very
necessary duty was in the act of performance by Daggett, in person, even
while the boats of Roswell Gardiner were towing his strained and roughly
treated craft into the open water. The result of this examination was
waited for by all on board, including Roswell, with the deepest anxiety.
The last held the lantern by which the height of the water in the well was
to be ascertained; the light of the moon scarce sufficing for such a
purpose. Daggett stood on the top of the pump himself, while Gardiner and
Macy were at its side. At length the sounding-rod came up, and its lower
end was held out, in order to ascertain how high up it was wet.

"Well, what do you make of it, Gar'ner?" Daggett demanded, a little
impatiently. "Water there must be; for no craft that floats could have
stood such a squeeze, and not have her sides open."

"There must be near three feet of water in your hold," answered Roswell,
shaking his head. "If this goes on, Captain Daggett, it will be hard work
to keep your schooner afloat!"

"Afloat she shall be, while a pump-break can work. Here, rig this larboard
pump at once, and get it in motion."

"It is possible that your seams opened under the nip, and have closed
again, as soon as the schooner got free. In such a case, ten minutes at
the pump will let us know it."

Although there is no duty to which seamen are so averse as pumping--none,
perhaps, that is actually so exhausting and laborious--it often happens
that they have recourse to it with eagerness, as the only available means
of saving their lives. Such was now the case, the harsh but familiar
strokes of the pump-break being audible amid the more solemn and grand
sounds of the grating of ice-bergs, the rushing of floes, and the
occasional scuffling and howling of the winds. The last appeared to have
changed in their direction, however; a circumstance that was soon noted,
there being much less of biting cold in the blasts than had been felt in
the earlier hours of the night.

"I do believe that the wind has got round here to the north-east," said