The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 15, No. 87, January, 1865: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 15, No. 87, January, 1865: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
Caution was not unnecessary. The sea rose and fell a number of feet
beside the berg, beating heavily against it with boom and hiss; and I
knew well, that, if our boat struck fairly, especially if it struck
sidewise, it would be whirled over and over in two seconds. Besides,
where we then were, there was a cut of a foot or more into the berg at
the water-level,--or rather, it was excavated below, with this
projection above; and had the skiff caught under that, we would drown. I
had come there not to drown, nor to run any risk, but to get some more
intimate acquaintance with an iceberg. Rowing along, therefore, despite
the Parson's moving hortatives, I at length found a spot where this
projection did not appear. Turning now the skiff head on, I drove it
swiftly toward the berg; then, when its headway was sufficient, shipped
the oars quickly, slipped into the bow, and, reaching forth my hand and
striking the berg, sent the boat in the same instant back with all my
force, not suffering it to touch.
"Now me! Now me!" shouted the Parson, brow hot, and eyes blazing.
"You're going to give me a chance, too? I would not miss it for a
kingdom!"
"Yes; wait, wait."
I took the oars, got sea-room, then turned its stern, where the Parson
sat, toward the iceberg, and backed gently in.
"Put your hand behind you; reach out as far as you can; sit in the
middle; keep cool, cool; don't turn your body."
"Cool, oh, yes! I'm cool as November," he said, with a face misty as a
hot July morning with evaporating dew. As his hand struck the ice, I
bent the oars, and we shot safely away.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" he shouted, making the little boat rock and
tremble,--"hurrah! This, now, is the 'adventurous travel' we were
promised. Now I am content, if we get no more."
"Cool; you'll have us over."
"Pooh! Who's cooler?"
We went leisurely around this glacial cathedral. The current set with
force about it, running against us on the eastern side. At the front we
found the "cornice" again, about twenty feet up, sloping to the water,
and dipping beneath it on either side; below it, a crystal surface;
above, marble fretwork. This cornice indicates a former sea-level,
showing that the berg has risen or changed position. This must have
taken place, probably, by the detachment of masses; so an occurrence of
this kind was not wholly out of question, after all. There is always,
however,--so I suspect,--some preliminary warning, some audible crack or
visible vibration. I had kept in mind the possibility of such changes,
and at the slightest intimation should have darted away,--a movement
favored by the lightness of the skiff, and the extreme ease with which,
under the advantage of a beautiful model, she was rowed.
A sense of awe, almost of fear, crept over me now that the adventure was
over, and I looked up to the mighty towers of the facade with a somewhat
humbled eye; and so, pulling slowly and respectfully along the western
side, made away, solemn and satisfied, to the ship.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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