Chapter 21 Chapter 5 Sudden Deviation

Even if the old crew were willing to continue the expedition with the bosun, cook, Captain Lan Guy, Jem West, and I, we would have no advantage if the new crew decided to return.There were only fourteen of us, including Dirk Peters.To deal with nineteen of them, the strength is not enough.Besides, is it wise to think that every old crew member is reliable? …Wouldn’t they be afraid to sail in this seemingly remote region? ...Will they withstand the constant incitement of Hearne and his associates? ...Will they collude with Hearn and the others and demand to return to the polar ice floes? . . . To give full disclosure of my inner thoughts, there remains the question of Captain Lan Guy himself, will he tire of prolonging this fruitless expedition? ... Will he soon give up his last hope of rescuing the Jenny's crew in this remote sea? ... The winter in Antarctica is coming, the unbearable cold, the blizzard that the brig cannot resist, facing all these threats, will the captain finally order to turn the bow of the ship? ... Then, when I am the only one standing my ground, how much weight will my arguments, my entreaties, my entreaties have? ...

Am I alone? ……No! ...Dirk Peters will definitely support me...but who wants to listen to the two of us? ... Even though the captain could not bear to abandon his brother and countrymen, he still persisted, and I felt that he was on the verge of discouragement.Since setting off from Zhalal Island, the brig has not deviated from the scheduled route, and moved along the longitude of the "Jenny" as if attracted by a magnet on the bottom of the sea.Let's hope neither the wind nor the current will make it yaw.For the power of nature, you should bow down; but for the restlessness caused by fear, you can try to fight it...

Here, I should state that there is one factor in favor of going forward.The current, which had slowed down for a few days, was now felt again at about three to four knots.Captain Lan Guy reminded me that, although due to counter currents—which are difficult to map on a map—the current sometimes twists and turns and reverses, it is evident that this is the main current of the sea.We would like to know in detail what current was at the side of the Zaral in the boat that took William Guy and his men.Too bad we can't be sure.It should not be forgotten that, like all Aboriginal boats, their boats had no sails and depended entirely on the use of oars.For them, the current may be more powerful than the wind.

In any case, for us, these two forces of nature worked in tandem to bring the Halbrena to the edge of the polar region. This is true for January 10th, 11th, and 12th.Except for a slight drop in temperature, nothing special happened.The temperature dropped to 48 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees 89 minutes Celsius) and the water temperature was 33 degrees (0 degrees 56 minutes Celsius). What a gap between this and the data recorded in Arthur Pym's diary!According to Arthur Pym, the water was so hot that it was hot to the touch. It's just the second week of January.There are still two months until winter arrives.Winter will make the icebergs move, forming ice sheets and drift ice, the huge ice blocks in the large ice floes will become stronger, and the Antarctic sea will change from a vast ocean to an endless ice island.In summer, however, there is no doubt of the existence of a free-flowing sea over the vast space between latitude 72° and 87° south.

Weddell's fleet, the Jenny and the Hallebrena, all sailed across this ocean at different latitudes.Why, then, has the Antarctic been less successful than the Arctic in this respect? ... On January 13th the bosun and I had a conversation which confirmed my apprehensions of the crew's ill-humor. At that time, except for Delap and Stern who were on duty at the bow, the rest of the people had lunch in the crew mess.The "Halle Brena" with its full sails up and down sailed through the waves driven by the strong sea wind.Francis held the tiller, keeping the south-south-east direction, so that the sails could catch the wind.

I wandered between the foremast and the mainmast, watching the birds pass overhead.Birds made deafening calls, and sometimes a few petrels flew over and perched on the top of the sail frame.No one was catching, and no one wanted to shoot the bird.The poultry was greasy and chewy, not edible at all.Wouldn't it be cruel and useless to kill them? At this moment, Heligley came to me.He looked at the bird and said to me: "Mr. Georin, I've discovered something..." "What's the matter, bosun? . . . " "It's these flying birds that usually fly southward, but not now...some of them are preparing to fly northward..."

"I've noticed it as much as you, Heligley." "Mr. Georin, I might add that the bird over there will be flying back soon." "Then, your conclusion is that..." "My conclusion is that the birds have sensed that winter is approaching..." "winter?……" "certainly." "Bosun, you are mistaken. The temperature has risen so high that the birds will not think of returning to warmer places too soon." "What, Mr. Georin, do you think it's too early? . . . " "Yes, Bosun. In the past, navigators were able to travel to and from the Antarctic waters until March. Don't we know that well?"

"But not at this latitude!" answered Heligley, "not at this latitude! Besides, as there are early summers, there are early winters. This year the warm season is a full four years earlier than usual. months, I am afraid that the cold season will be earlier than in previous years!" "It is quite possible," I replied, "but it does not matter, our expedition will be over within three weeks..." "If nothing comes up before that, Mr. Georin..." "What's the obstacle? . . . " "For example, a continent appeared in the south blocking our way..."

"Continental, Heligley? . . . " "Mr. Georyn, you know, it doesn't surprise me in the least..." "All in all, nothing surprising!" I retorted. "As for the land that Dirk Peters saw dimly," Heligley went on, "and the possibility that the people on the 'Jenny' might have escaped there, I don't quite believe it..." "why?……" "William Gay probably only had a very small boat, and he couldn't have penetrated so far in the Antarctic Sea..." "Bosun, I'm not so sure." "But, Mr. Georyn..."

"If William Guy landed somewhere under the current," I cried, "what wonder would it be? . . . I don't think he'd stay in a boat for eight months! . . . He and his companions may have landed on an island or a continent, and for good reason, the search cannot be abandoned..." "Of course . . . but not everyone in the crew agrees," Heligley said, shaking his head. "I know that, Bosun, and that's what worries me the most. Is there a growing ill-humor? . . . " "Mr. Georin, I'm afraid that's the truth. The satisfaction of making a few hundred dollars has worn off, and the prospect of making a few hundred more doesn't prevent whining... Still, the bonus is tempting!  … From Zaral Island to the South Pole, assuming it can be reached, there are six degrees... Two thousand dollars per degree, that is twelve thousand dollars. Thirty people, four hundred dollars each! . . . When 'Halbre When the "Na" returned to the voyage, there were a lot of tickets to pack in my pockets! ...Nevertheless, the odious Hearne viciously incited his accomplices.In a common saying, I see them ready to let go and steer! ..."

"New recruit, I admit it, bosun... but the old crew..." "Hmm!... There are also three or four people who have begun to think about it... They are also very scared and uneasy when they see that they are going farther and farther..." "I think Captain Lan Guy and the first mate will convince them..." "Mr. Georin, it depends! . . . our captain's own discouragement . . . or his sense of responsibility prevailed . . . he gave up his plan to continue the expedition . . . isn't that all possible?" yes!That's what worries me.Once this happens, there is no cure. "As for my friend Endicott, Mr. Georin, I'll vouch for him as much as I do myself. If the Captain wants to go to the end of the sky--if there is a limit to the sky--we will. But , to be honest, the two of us, plus Dirk Peters and you, are too few people to make them listen to us!..." "What do they think of biracial people? . . . " I asked. "Honestly, I think everyone blames him especially for the delay of the voyage! . . . Of course, Mr. Georin, please allow me to say that you have a lot of responsibility in this matter too, and there is nothing wrong with it." A lot of money... Arthur Pym drowned, froze, crushed... anyway, he's been dead for eleven years anyway! Stubbornly thinking that Arthur Pym is still alive..." Dirk Peters' opinion is exactly my opinion.I've never had a disagreement with biracial people on this issue. "Did you see, Mr. Georin," continued the bosun, "that the half-breed created a certain curiosity when the voyage began. After he saved the life of Martin Holt, people became interested in him. . . . Of course he didn't become any more genial and chatty than before. The loner hardly ever went out of his hole!... Now, at last, everyone knows who he is... It doesn't seem to me that it made him Be enthusiastic!... Anyway, it was because he mentioned that there is a mainland south of Zalar Island, which made our captain decide to sail in this direction with the brig. Now the ship has crossed the 86th latitude south The speed is also because of him..." "I agree with that, bosun." "So, Mr. Georin, I'm always afraid that someone will kill him! . . . " "Dirk Peters will defend himself! Woe to anyone who touches a finger of him!" "Yes, Mr. Georin, yes, yes. His hands can break iron sheets... It's not easy for anyone to fall into his hands! But there are so many people, and everyone can deal with one, I think, it will always work." Beat him up and throw him in the bilge..." "I hope it's best not to come to this. Heligly, prevent any plot against Dirk Peters, I leave this to you...reason your men...tell them , we have plenty of time to return to the Falkland Islands before the end of the warm season... must not let their censure give the captain an excuse to turn the ship before he has achieved his goal..." "Trust me, Mr. Georin! . . . I will do my best for you . . . " "You won't regret it, Heligley! Each man will get four hundred dollars in the future, according to the degree. If a man is better than the average seaman, even if he is only the bosun on the 'Halle Breenne' If you want to add a zero to the end of the four hundred dollars, it will not take much effort!" This hit the weirdo's heart.I'm pretty sure I can get his support.Yes, he will do everything in his power to thwart the plot of these people, muster the courage of those people, and take care to protect Dirk Peters.Will he succeed in preventing a mutiny on board? ... On the 13th and 14th, nothing special happened.The temperature drops even more.Countless flocks of birds are constantly heading north.Captain Lan Guy pointed to the flock of birds and alerted me to the drop in temperature. As he talked to me, I felt his last spark dying.What's so strange about it?The land location pointed out by the half-breed boy was nowhere to be seen.We are more than 180 nautical miles away from Zalar Island.Surrounded by the sea—just a vast expanse of water and an uninhabited horizon.Since December 21, the sun's wheel has been getting closer and closer to the horizon, and it will pass the horizon and disappear on March 21. That is the six-month Antarctic night! ... Honestly, even if William Guy and his five companions, in that precarious little boat, could cover such a distance, do we have one per cent chance of finding them? ... On January 15th, an accurate survey was made, which showed us to be in longitude 43° 13' east and latitude 88° 17' south. The Halle Brena was within two degrees, or one hundred and twenty nautical miles, of the South Pole. Captain Lan Guy had no intention of concealing the results of this measurement, and the crew were well acquainted with nautical calculations, and would not fail to understand them.What's more, don't they still have two masters, Mardin Holt and Hardy, who can explain the measurement results to them? ...Besides, wouldn't Hearn exaggerate there to the point of absurdity? ... In the afternoon, I could no longer have any doubts that the hunters were playing tricks to deceive people.The sailors squatted at the foot of the fore-mast, talking in low voices and casting malicious glances at us.Clearly some plotting is going on. Two or three sailors, turning towards the forecastle, made threatening gestures without restraint.In a word, the complaints grew louder and louder, and Jem West could not lose his hearing. "Quiet!" he yelled. He walked forward. "Whoever opens his mouth first," he said bluntly, "I'll settle the score with him!" Captain Lan Guy hid in his cabin.I expected him to come out at any moment, take one last look out to sea, and give the order to turn the boat around.I have no doubts about that... However, the next day, the brig continued in the same direction.The helmsman kept due south.Unfortunately—quite badly—the sea was beginning to fog up. I couldn't sit still any longer, and was even more frightened. It can be seen that the first officer is only waiting for the order to turn around.Whatever pain Captain Lan Guy felt, he would probably give the order soon.On this point, I can totally understand him. For several days I had not seen the half-breed, or at least had not spoken to him.Clearly, he was isolated.As soon as he appeared on deck, everyone avoided him.He raised his elbow to port, and the others immediately went to starboard.Only the bosun pretended not to leave, and spoke to him.The bosun's questions were generally unanswered. Let me make it clear that Dirk Peters couldn't care less about the situation.It is possible that he was so absorbed in his own obstinate thoughts that he was not aware of them.I repeat, it is hard to say what rash action he would have taken if he had heard Jem West give the order to "go true north"! ... He seemed to be avoiding me, and I wondered if it was a feeling of caution "to keep me out of further trouble". On the afternoon of the 17th, the mixed-race man showed that he wanted to talk to me.What I learned from this conversation was something I never expected. Around two thirty in the afternoon. I'm tired and not feeling well, and I've just returned to my cabin.The side windows of the cabin were open, the rear windows were closed. My door faced the officers' mess on deck.There was a soft knock on the door. "Who?..." I asked. "It's me, Dirk Peters!" "are you looking for me?……" "yes!" "I'll come out right now..." "Please...preferably...let me come to your cabin, please?..." "Please come in!" The half-breed pushed the door in and closed the door behind him. I had already gone to bed, so I leaned against the head of the bed and pointed to the easy chair for him to sit down. He is still standing there. As usual, he was a little cautious and didn't speak for a long time.I then asked: "Dirk Peters, what do you want from me?" "I want to tell you something...please understand me...sir...I think it's more appropriate for you to know...and only you will know!...the crew...no one expected..." "If it's important and you're afraid it might leak out, Dirk Peters, why tell me? . . . " "Yes...necessary...yes!...it's time to talk!...I can't hold it anymore!...it's like a big stone...on my heart!..." Having said that, Dirk Peters beat his chest hard. Then he added: "I've been worried... when I'm asleep... it's going to come out of my mouth... and be overheard... because when I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming about it... in the dream..." "Who are you dreaming about?..." I asked. "I dreamed of him...he...and...that's why I hid in a corner and slept...alone...for fear that others would know his real name..." At this point, I had a hunch that the half-breed might answer a question I hadn't asked him.This question has always been vague in my mind, namely: After he left Illinois, why did he come to live in the Falkland Islands under the pseudonym Hunter? When I asked this question, he argued: "It's not this...no...that's not what I want to talk about..." "Dirk Peters, I must tell you. I would first like to know what made you not stay in America, what made you choose the Falkland Islands..." "Sir, is there any reason? . . . because I want to be near poor Pym . . . my poor Pym . ..." "But why the name Hunter?" "I don't want to use my old name anymore... because of the 'Orca' incident...I don't want to use that name anymore!" The mestizo refers to the scene of the straw casting that takes place on the American brig. It was then decided that one of August Barnard, Arthur Pym, Dirk Peters, and Sailor Parker should be sacrificed to the other three... I recall Arthur Pym Pym had firmly opposed it.But he was compelled to do so, and he could not at all refuse to play an upright role "in this bloody tragedy that is about to take place"—this is his exact words.I still remember the horrific scene, the harrowing memories that poisoned the lives of everyone who survived. yes!Straw lottery——Arthur Pym holds several small pieces of wood and bone of different lengths in his hand... Whoever gets the shortest one means that whoever gets it will be sacrificed...Arthur Pym It is said in the book that he could not help but develop a ruthless desire to deceive his partner, "fuck it"-that is his word... But he did not do it, and asked people's forgiveness for having this idea! ...Please put yourself in your shoes and think about it! ... Later, he made up his mind and stretched out his hand tightly holding the four bone sticks... Dirk Peters smoked first...he was lucky...he was no longer scared.Arthur Pym calculated, at this time, the factors against him increased by one more point. It's August Barnard's time...and this guy is saved! Now, Arthur Pym has a good deal, he and Parker have equal chances... At this time, the cruelty of a tiger took over his heart... He felt an extremely strong devil-like hatred for his poor companion and his kind... Five minutes passed, and Parker didn't dare to smoke... Finally, Arthur Pym closed his eyes tightly, not knowing his fate.Then he felt a hand clutching his hand... This is the hand of Dirk Peters... Arthur Pym has escaped death. At this time, the half-breed rushed to Parker and knocked him to the ground with a punch in the back.Then, there was the horrific meal—"This bloody reality, how to shake people's heartstrings, is beyond the description of any language." yes! ... This creepy story, I have long been familiar with.But for a long time, I thought it was a fabrication, and now I know it's not.This actually happened on the "Orca" on July 16, 1827.Why Dirk Peters came to tell me about this past, I couldn't figure it out. I'll probably figure it out soon enough. "So, Dirk Peters," I said, "I ask you, why did you reveal your real name when the 'Halbrena' docked at Zalar Island when you insisted on anonymity?" ?...Why didn't you keep the name Hunter?..." "Sir...understand me!...At the time, they were hesitant to go further...intent to return...and a decision had been made...so I thought...yes!...say I am' The Orca's... Ropemaster... Dirk Peters... Poor Pym's mate... They'll take my word for it... Will believe as much as I do that he's alive... Will go find him . . . but the consequences are dire . . . because . . . admitting that I am Dirk Peters . . . the one who killed Parker . "Look, Dirk Peters," I said again, "you're taking it too seriously. . . If you draw the short lottery, won't you suffer Parker's fate too! . . . People won't Blame it on you..." "Sir... tell me!... Will the Parker family say that like you?..." "His family?...Then he has relatives?..." "Yes... because of that... Arthur Pym... changed his name in the story... Parker wasn't originally called Parker... he was..." "Arthur Pym is quite right," I replied, "I don't want to know Parker's real name! . . . Keep it a secret! . . . " "No . . . I'm telling you . . . it weighs heavily on my conscience . . . Mr. Georin . . . after I tell you . "No, Dirk Peters...don't do that!" "His name is Holt... Ned Holt..." "Holt..." I yelled, "Holt...has the same surname as our sail master..." "That's his brother, sir..." "Mardin Holt...is Ned's brother?..." "Yes!... Please understand...it's his brother..." "But you thought Ned Holt drowned with the others when the Orca sank..." "No... if he knew I had..." Just then, a violent shock threw me out of the bed. The two-masted ship had rolled very hard to starboard just now, almost capsizing. I heard an angry voice shout: "Which dog thing is at the helm? . . . " This is the voice of Jem West, and the person being questioned is Hearn.I hurried out of the cabin. Jem West grabbed Hearne by the collar of his sailor suit and asked repeatedly: "Have you let go of the wheel? . . . " "First officer... I don't know..." "You know! . . . I'm telling you! . . . You must have let go! Let go a little more, and the brig will capsize!" Apparently for some reason Hearne was off the wheel at one point. "Grathian!" cried Jem West, calling for a sailor. "You take the helm! Hearne, get down in the hold..." Suddenly there was a cry: "Land!" All eyes turned to the south.