126 A YEAR WITH A WHALER 



had shaken them down in ruin. The air was 

 filled with grinding, crushing, ominous noises 

 and explosions. 



The ship was in imminent peril. In that mad 

 turmoil of ice it seemed certain she would be 

 ground to pieces. Captain Shorey, who was 

 hobbling about on crutches, ordered a cask of 

 bread, a cask of water, and a barrel of beef 

 hoisted on deck ready to be thrown out on an 

 ice cake in case the brig were wrecked and we 

 were cast away. 



In the grinding of the floes, the ship became 

 wedged in between two immense pieces of ice. 

 The great bergs washed closer and closer. 

 When they rose on some tremendous billow, 

 great caverns, washed out by the sea, appeared 

 in their sides like mouths, edged with splinters 

 and points of blue and glittering ice, like fangs. 

 As they rose and fell, it seemed the two white 

 monsters were opening and closing devouring 

 maws for us while the suck of the water in their 

 ice caves made noises like the roar of hungry 

 beasts of prey. 



A cable was run out hurriedly over the bow 



