But I have a very distinct recollection that the whales were not all
Killers, and that some, at any rate, were Bottle-nosed whales. This was
impressed upon me by one of the most dramatic moments of that night and
day.
We made our way very slowly, sometimes waiting twenty minutes for the
floe on which we were to touch the next one in the direction we were
trying to go, but before us in the distance was a region of sea-ice which
appeared to slope gradually up on to the fast Barrier beyond. As we got
nearer we saw a dark line appear at intervals between the two. This we
considered was a crevasse at the edge of the Barrier which was opening
and shutting with the very big swell which was running, and on which all
the floes were bobbing up and down. We told one another that we could
rush the ponies over this as it closed.
We approached the Barrier and began to rise up on the sloping floes which
had edged the Barrier and so on to small bergs which had calved from the
Barrier itself. Leaving Crean with the ponies, Bowers and I went forward
to prospect, and rose on to a berg from which we hoped to reach the
Barrier.
I can never forget the scene that met us. Between us and the Barrier was
a lane of some fifty yards wide, a seething cauldron. Bergs were calving
off as we watched: and capsizing: and hitting other bergs, splitting into
two and falling apart.
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