THE FROZEN PIRATE.

BY

W. CLARK RUSSELL

AUTHOR OF "THE WRECK OF THE GROSVENOR," "THE LADY MAUD," "A SAILOR'S SWEETHEART," ETC., ETC.

PH[OE]NIX PUBLISHING CO.,
NEW YORK.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. The Storm
CHAPTER II. The Iceberg
CHAPTER III. I Lose My Companions
CHAPTER IV. I Quit the Wreck
CHAPTER V. I Sight a White Coast
CHAPTER VI. An Island of Ice
CHAPTER VII. I am Startled by a Discovery
CHAPTER VIII. The Frozen Schooner
CHAPTER IX. I Lose my Boat
CHAPTER X. Another Startling Discovery
CHAPTER XI. I Make Further Discoveries
CHAPTER XII. A Lonely Night
CHAPTER XIII. I Explore the Hold and Forecastle
CHAPTER XIV. An Extraordinary Occurrence
CHAPTER XV. The Pirate's Story
CHAPTER XVI. I Hear of a Great Treasure
CHAPTER XVII. The Treasure
CHAPTER XVIII. We Talk over our Situation
CHAPTER XIX. We Take a View of the Ice
CHAPTER XX. A Merry Evening
CHAPTER XXI. We Explore the Mines
CHAPTER XXII. A Change Comes Over the Frenchman
CHAPTER XXIII. The Ice Breaks Away
CHAPTER XXIV. The Frenchman Dies
CHAPTER XXV. The Schooner Frees Herself
CHAPTER XXVI. I am Troubled by Thoughts of the Treasure
CHAPTER XXVII. I Encounter a Whaler
CHAPTER XXVIII. I Strike a Bargain with the Yankee
CHAPTER XXIX. I Value the Lading
CHAPTER XXX. Our Progress to the Channel
CHAPTER XXXI. The End
POSTSCRIPT.

THE FROZEN PIRATE.

CHAPTER I.

THE STORM.

The Laughing Mary was a light ship, as sailors term a vessel that stands high upon the water, having discharged her cargo at Callao, from which port we were proceeding in ballast to Cape Town, South Africa, there to call for orders. Our run to within a few parallels of the latitude of the Horn had been extremely pleasant; the proverbial mildness of the Pacific Ocean was in the mellow sweetness of the wind and in the gentle undulations of the silver-laced swell; but scarce had we passed the height of forty-nine degrees when the weather grew sullen and dark, a heavy bank of clouds of a livid hue rose in the north-east, and the wind came and went in small guns, the gusts venting themselves in dreary moans, insomuch that our oldest hands confessed they had never heard blasts more portentous.

The gale came on with some lightning and several claps of thunder and heavy rain. Though it was but two o'clock in the afternoon, the air was so dusky that the men had to feel for the ropes; and when the first of the tempest stormed down upon us the appearance of the sea was uncommonly terrible, being swept and mangled into boiling froth in the north-east quarter, whilst all about us and in the south-west it lay in a sort of swollen huddle of shadows, glooming into the darkness of the sky without offering the smallest glimpse of the horizon.

In a few minutes the hurricane struck us. We had bared the brig down to the