The pressure-ridges, massive and threatening, testified
to the overwhelming nature of the forces that were at work. Huge
blocks of ice, weighing many tons, were lifted into the air and tossed
aside as other masses rose beneath them. We were helpless intruders in
a strange world, our lives dependent upon the play of grim elementary
forces that made a mock of our puny efforts. I scarcely dared hope now
that the 'Endurance' would live, and throughout that anxious day I
reviewed again the plans made long before for the sledging journey that
we must make in the event of our having to take to the ice. We were
ready, as far as forethought could make us, for every contingency.
Stores, dogs, sledges, and equipment were ready to be moved from the
ship at a moment's notice.
The following day brought bright clear weather, with a blue sky. The
sunshine was inspiriting. The roar of pressure could be heard all
around us. New ridges were rising, and I could see as the day wore on
that the lines of major disturbance were drawing nearer to the ship.
The 'Endurance' suffered some strains at intervals. Listening below, I
could hear the creaking and groaning of her timbers, the pistol-like
cracks that told of the starting of a trenail or plank, and the faint,
indefinable whispers of our ship's distress.
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