Page:Twenty years before the mast - Charles Erskine, 1896.djvu/133

 ready for any emergency, and to have all hands at their regular stations, while the good ship was being driven by  the fury of the gale. Suddenly many voices cried out from the to’-gallant forecastle, "Icebergs on the  weather bow!" then, "On the lee bow, and abeam!" Destruction seemed certain as we dashed on, expecting the almost inevitable crash. Return we could not, for we had just passed large bergs to leeward. The ship was kept on her course. Louder and more furious raged the gale. Now the lee guns were under water; the next instant the ship rose upright on an even keel.

At last we entered a narrow passage between two monster icebergs that were gradually closing together. Every officer and man was at his station with bated breath and blanched face; yet true to discipline there  they stood like specters. We felt that we were death-doomed. One thought of the dear ones at home, a brief prayer to our God, then we nerved our hearts to meet our fate. But you know the song tells us that "there’s a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft" to keep watch  over poor Jack; and on this occasion of extreme danger, Providence was indeed kind. As our gallant ship sailed onward a glimmer of hope arose, and our hearts  grew lighter and lighter as we heard the whistling of the  gale grow louder and louder over our heads, while we  gradually emerged from the passage. The suspense we endured while making our way between those two icebergs  can be better imagined than described. It was something terrible, and, as we dashed along in clear water, we felt that we had escaped an awful death, and thanked  God in our hearts for our preservation.