The Romance of Polar Exploration
by G. Firth Scott · English · Gutenberg #36802 · 505,925 chars · public domain (US)
The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Romance of Polar Exploration
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States,
you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located
before using this eBook.
Title: The Romance of Polar Exploration
Author: G. Firth Scott
Release date: July 20, 2011 [eBook #36802]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36802
Credits: Produced by Steven Gibbs, Martin Pettit and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROMANCE OF POLAR EXPLORATION ***
Produced by Steven Gibbs, Martin Pettit and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE ROMANCE OF POLAR EXPLORATION
INTERESTING DESCRIPTIONS OF ARCTIC AND
ANTARCTIC ADVENTURE FROM THE EARLIEST
TIME TO THE VOYAGE OF THE "DISCOVERY"
BY
G. FIRTH SCOTT
AUTHOR OF "FROM FRANKLIN TO NANSEN," "THE ROMANCE
OF AUSTRALIAN EXPLORING," "COLONIAL BORN," _&c._
WITH TWENTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON
SEELEY AND CO. LIMITED
38 GREAT RUSSELL STREET
1909
[Illustration: THE _STELLA POLARE_ NIPPED IN THE ICE.
"The stores were unloaded with the greatest rapidity."]
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
THE LIBRARY OF ROMANCE
_Extra Crown 8vo. With many illustrations. 5s. each_
"Splendid volumes."--_The Outlook._
"This series has now won a considerable and well deserved
reputation."--_The Guardian._
"Each volume treats its allotted theme with accuracy, but at the same
time with a charm that will commend itself to readers of all ages. The
root idea is excellent, and it is excellently carried out, with full
illustrations and very prettily designed covers."--_The Daily
Telegraph._
By Prof. G. F. SCOTT ELLIOT, M.A., B.Sc.
THE ROMANCE OF SAVAGE LIFE
THE ROMANCE OF PLANT LIFE
THE ROMANCE OF EARLY BRITISH LIFE
By EDWARD GILLIAT, M.A.
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN SIEGES
By JOHN LEA, M.A.
THE ROMANCE OF BIRD LIFE
By JOHN LEA, M.A., & H. COUPIN, D.Sc.
THE ROMANCE OF ANIMAL ARTS AND CRAFTS
By SIDNEY WRIGHT
THE ROMANCE OF THE WORLD'S FISHERIES
By the Rev. J. C. LAMBERT, M.A., D.D.
THE ROMANCE OF MISSIONARY HEROISM
By G. FIRTH SCOTT
THE ROMANCE OF POLAR EXPLORATION
By ARCHIBALD WILLIAMS, B.A. (Oxon.), F.R.G.S.
THE ROMANCE OF EARLY EXPLORATION
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN EXPLORATION
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN MECHANISM
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN INVENTION
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN ENGINEERING
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN LOCOMOTION
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN MINING
By CHARLES R. GIBSON, A.I.E.E.
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN PHOTOGRAPHY
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN ELECTRICITY
By EDMUND SELOUS
THE ROMANCE OF THE ANIMAL WORLD
THE ROMANCE OF INSECT LIFE
By AGNES GIBERNE
THE ROMANCE OF THE MIGHTY DEEP
By E. S. GREW, M.A.
THE ROMANCE OF MODERN GEOLOGY
SEELEY & CO., LIMITED
Preface
While stories of the Polar explorers and their efforts to reach the
Poles have been told again and again, the constant renewal of
expeditions adds, every year, fresh incidents to the record, until it
may almost be said that the fascination of the frozen regions is as
inexhaustible as the list of Polar heroes is illimitable. Nor is the
interest confined solely to the achievement of modern explorers. However
great the results of their exertions may be, the fact that, in spite of
all the advantages conferred by recent scientific discovery and modern
appliances, the explorers of to-day have failed to penetrate the
uttermost secrets of the worlds of ice, renders more impressively heroic
the struggles of the earlier travellers, whose equipment, viewed in
comparison with that of modern man, was apparently so inadequate and
often inappropriate.
No series of Polar adventure stories would be complete without a
prominent place being given to the earlier explorers, and especially to
that British hero, Franklin, whose name is so inseparably associated
with the history of Arctic exploration. The account of his daring
voyages and of his tragic end, at the moment of victory, has already
been given in many a form; but the tale is one which will stand
re-telling for generations yet to come. In the present instance it has
been of necessity briefly written, but in such a manner as will, it is
hoped, without loss of interest, render clear a comparison of the
conditions under which he and his brave companions worked and fought to
their death, with those that existed for later expeditions and
especially the expeditions of Nansen, Peary, and Abruzzi.
The Antarctic, equally with the Arctic, now commands the attention of
man. In the South, as in the North, the British race has again produced
explorers who have fought their way into the icy fastnesses. From the
time that Captain Cook sailed round the unknown southern ocean, more
than a century ago, the British flag has waved in the forefront of the
advance. The work which Sir James Ross began, over half a century since,
has now been carried farther than ever it was anticipated it could be.
By the voyage of the _Discovery_, the Antarctic continent has been
revealed to within five hundred miles of the Pole, and in the gallant
exploits of the commander, Captain Robert Scott, there are many who see
a repetition of all that made the name of Franklin so immortal.
The source of the information on which these stories are based (as is
frequently mentioned in the text) is the personal narrative of the
explorer concerned, where available; and if the interest aroused in any
of them requires more to satisfy it than the exigencies of space renders
possible in this volume, the attention which will thereby be drawn to
the more comprehensive records will stand as a slight acknowledgment of
the indebtedness of the writer of these re-told stories to the authors
of the original narratives.
G. FIRTH SCOTT.
LONDON, 1906.
Publishers' Note
Our thanks are due to Lieut. Shackleton, R.N.R., of the
_Discovery_, for the use of the original drawing facing page 344,
and also for permission to use the Illustrations facing pages 310,
340, 348. To Messrs. Alston Rivers, Limited, for permission to use
the Illustration facing page 320 from Dr. H. R. Mill's "Siege of
the South Pole." To Messrs. Hutchinson and Co., for the use of
Illustrations facing pages 28 and 272, and Frontispiece, from "The
Voyage of the Polar Star," by the Duke of the Abruzzi. To Messrs.
Geo. Newnes, Limited, for the Illustration facing page 305 from
"First on the Antarctic Continent," by C. E. Borchgrevinck. To
Messrs. Longmans, Green & Co., for permission to reproduce the
Illustration facing page 256 from "New Land," by Otto Sverdrup.
Contents
CHAPTER I
THE ARCTIC REGION
PAGE
The Mystery of the North Pole--The First Explorer--"The Great
Dark Wall at the End of the World"--"Frost-Smoke"--The
Lights and Sounds of the North--The Aurora Borealis--Mock
Moons--The Early Adventurers: Willoughby, Frobisher, Davis,
Hudson, Baffin, Ross, and Parry--The North-West Passage 17
CHAPTER II
SIR JOHN FRANKLIN
Young Franklin--His Dreams of Adventure--He becomes a Sailor--His
First Arctic Expedition--Fails to get through Behring
Straits--Explores Baffin's Bay--The 1845 Expedition--The
_Erebus_ and _Terror_--The "Good-bye" at Greenland--Wellington
Channel--They select Winter Quarters--Discovery of the
North-West Passage--Death of Franklin--Prisoned in the Ice--The
Crew Abandon the Ships--Defeat and Death 25
CHAPTER III
THE SEARCH FOR FRANKLIN
Captain Parker's Report--Government offers a Reward--Dr. Rae's
Expedition--Captain McClure's Voyage in the _Investigator_--Hardships
and Perils--The Meeting with the _Herald_--Lady Franklin still
Hopeful--Sir F. L. McClintock's Expedition in the _Fox_ with Lieutenant
Hobson--Their Sad and Fatal Discoveries--Lieutenant Schwatka recovers
the Body of Lieutenant Irving 42
CHAPTER IV
THE VOYAGE OF THE _POLARIS_
Death of Captain Hall--Crew determine to Return--Are Frozen in--A
Party take to the Ice and are Cast Away--They build themselves
Snow Huts--They find some Seals--An Adventure with Bears--The
Perils of the Spring--They sight the _Tigress_ and are
Saved--The Ship-party's Story and Rescue 69
CHAPTER V
THE _ALERT_ AND _DISCOVERY_
Sir George Nares appointed to the _Alert_ and _Discovery_--Overtaking
a Season--Red Snow--The Greenland Mosquito--Peculiarities
of Eskimo Dogs--And Dog Whips--Dangers of Kayaks--Advantages
of Steam for Polar Regions--An Unpleasant Experience--A Huge
Walrus--Arctic Scenery--A Big "Bag"--The Ships part
Company--The _Alert_ reaches the Polar Sea--Winter Quarters--The
North Pole attempted--Adventures and Sufferings of the
Party--Lieutenant Parr's Heroism--Deliverance--The Greenland
Attempt--Scurvy and Snow--Repulse Bay--In Pitiable
Plight--Lieutenant Rawson to the Rescue 83
CHAPTER VI
THE GREELY EXPEDITION
The Scheme of the Expedition--Fort Conger--Arctic Wolves--Atmospheric
Marvels--A Terrific Storm--Influence of the Sun--Lieutenant
Lockwood's Expedition--The Second Winter--Preparations
for Departure--They leave Fort Conger--A Remarkable Ice
Passage--They fail to make Cape Sabine--A New Camp--Rations running
Short--Fruitless Efforts to reach Food Depots--Starvation and
Death--A Bitter Blow--The Arrival of the _Thetis_ 114
CHAPTER VII
PEARY IN GREENLAND
The Greenland Question--Departure of the _Kite_--Peary breaks his
Leg--A Camp made--Habits of the Eskimo--A Brush with
Walrus--"Caching" Food--An Arctic Christmas Feast--Peary starts
for the Great Ice-Cap--A Snow Sahara--The Ice-Cap Crossed--A
Marvellous Discovery--Sails on Sledges--A Safe Return 146
CHAPTER VIII
NANSEN AND THE _FRAM_
Nansen's Theories of Arctic Currents and Shipbuilding--His Theories
adopted--The _Fram_ Built--A Start made--The Kara Sea
reached--Good Hunting--The Ice Current reached--Frozen
in--A Raid by a Bear--Will the _Fram_ stand the Pressure?--Preparing
for Calamity--A Conclusive Test--Causes of Ice
Movements--Life on the _Fram_--Nansen and Johansen leave
the _Fram_--They reach their "Farthest North"--Incidents of
their Return Journey--Some Narrow Escapes--The Meeting
with Jackson--Arrival of the _Fram_ 173
CHAPTER IX
FRANZ JOSEF LAND AND SPITZBERGEN
The Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition--Object of the Expedition--An
Interesting Experiment--The Franz Josef Land Question settled--A Group
of Islands, not a Continent--Conway at Spitzbergen--Ancient
History--Bygone Splendours--Scenery in the Making--The Romance of
Andree--Another Riddle 220
CHAPTER X
THE POLAR METEORITES
Eskimo Iron--A Mystery of 1818--Search and Failure--Peary and
his Huskies--The Secret revealed--An Eskimo Legend--At
the Iron Mountain--Removing the Trophies--A Massive Giant--Attack
and Defence--The Giant Objects--A Narrow Escape--Conquered 236
CHAPTER XI
THE SECOND VOYAGE OF THE _FRAM_
Norwegian Enterprise--Mapping the Islands--Nearly Frozen--A Novel
Warming-Pan--Eskimo Melody--Arctic Bull Fights--Death of the
Doctor--Fire on the _Fram_--New Lands--Prehistoric People 249
CHAPTER XII
ITALY CLAIMS THE RECORD
Norwegian Aid--A Northerly Station--Premature Enthusiasm--Cold
Comfort--An Arctic Greeting--A Hasty Landing--Disorganised
Plans--Homeless Dogs--Making Fresh Plans--The Leader
Frost-bitten--The Start for the Pole--Driven Back by Cold--A
Second Start--First Detachment Lost--Anxiety for the Second--A
Struggle for Life--Third Detachment Overdue--Fears of
Disaster--Safe at Last--Italy sets the Record 265
CHAPTER XIII
THE ANTARCTIC REGION
The Mystery of the South Pole--Ignored by Early Navigators--An
Accidental Dutch Discovery--Captain Cook Sets Sail--Discouraged
by the Ice--Turns back in Despair--A Second Accidental
Discovery--Weddell breaks the Barrier--Antarctic Land
revealed--British resume the Search 283
CHAPTER XIV
VOYAGES OF THE _EREBUS_ AND _TERROR_
A Fortunate Choice--Characteristic Southern Bergs--First Sight of
the Continent--More British Territory--A Mighty Volcanic
Display--Nearing the Magnetic Pole--The Antarctic Barrier--A
Myth dispelled--A Second Attempt--Held by the Ice--Third
and Last Voyage--A Double Discovery 294
CHAPTER XV
THE _SOUTHERN CROSS_ EXPEDITION
British continue the Work--Carrier Pigeons in the Ice--Withstanding
a Nip--A Sea-quake--Cape Adare Station--A Cosy Camp--Edible
Fish--Death visits the Camp--Penguin Peculiarities--A Derelict
Blue-bottle--The Welcome Postman--A Thrilling Episode 305
CHAPTER XVI
THE REVIVAL OF ANTARCTIC INTEREST
Modern Means and Methods--Private Enterprise leads--The
_Valdavia_--The _Belgica_ Expedition--International Action
adopted--The German Expedition--An Ice-bound Land--Fresh
Trade-Winds 318
CHAPTER XVII
THE SWEDISH EXPEDITION
Sails in the _Antarctica_--Argentine Co-operation--First Antarctic
Fossil--Building the Winter Station--A Breezy Corner--Electric
Snow--A Spare Diet--New Year Festivities--The Missing
Ship--Relief that never Came--A Devastating Nip--Castaway--The
Unexpected Happens--A Dramatic Meeting--Rescued 323
CHAPTER XVIII
BRITAIN HOLDS HER OWN
A Capable Crew--A Modern Franklin--Early Discoveries--Frozen
in--An Historic Journey--The Record of "Farthest South"--How
the Record was Won--Speedy Travelling--Receding Ice
Limits--A Dying Glacier--The Secret of the Barrier--A Fatal
Gale--Lost in the Snow--An Antarctic Chute--Prolonged
Slumber--Antarctic Coal--Home with Honour 339
List of Illustrations
THE _STELLA POLARE_ NIPPED IN THE ICE _Frontispiece_
W. E. PARRY'S ATTEMPT TO REACH THE POLE _Facing page_ 28
AN IMMENSE ICEBERG " " 48
AN ADDITION TO THE EXPLORERS' SUPPLY OF PROVISIONS " " 78
SHOOTING MUSK OX IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS " " 116
GROUP OF SMITH SOUND ESKIMO " " 152
TWO NORTH GREENLAND HUNTERS " " 160
MAP OF THE ARCTIC REGIONS SHOWING ROUTE
OF NANSEN AND THE _FRAM_ " " 173
THE _FRAM_ IN THE ICE " " 185
NANSEN AND JOHANSEN START ON THEIR DASH FOR THE POLE " " 198
THE MEETING OF JACKSON AND NANSEN " " 216
THE FRONT EDGE OF KING'S GLACIER, WESTERN SPITZBERGEN " " 230
ESKIMO ARMS AND TOOLS " " 240
ESKIMO VISITORS TO THE _FRAM_ IN NIGHT ATTIRE " " 256
ONE OF THE DIFFICULTIES ENCOUNTERED
BY THE _STELLA POLARE_ " " 272
SKETCH MAP SHOWING CAPTAIN AGNI'S FARTHEST NORTH " " 280
THE _SOUTHERN CROSS_ IN THE ICE PACK " " 305
THE AURORA AUSTRALIS " " 310
EMPEROR PENGUINS " " 312
POLAR OUTFIT USED BY THE _BELGICA_ EXPEDITION " " 320
MAP OF SOUTH POLAR REGIONS " " 339
THE _DISCOVERY_ LYING IN WINTER QUARTERS, FROZEN IN " " 340
THE FARTHEST SOUTH SLEDGE PARTY IN A BLIZZARD " " 344
A DRIFTING ICE FLOE ATTACHED TO THE
_DISCOVERY_ BY A ROPE " " 348
The Romance of Polar Exploration
CHAPTER I
THE ARCTIC REGION
The Mystery of the North Pole--The First Explorer--"The Great Dark
Wall at the End of the World"--"Frost-Smoke"--The Lights and Sounds
of the North--The Aurora Borealis--Mock Moons--The Early
Adventurers: Willoughby, Frobisher, Davis, Hudson, Baffin, Ross,
and Parry--The North-West Passage.
In all the range of romantic adventure to be found in the history of
man, there is, perhaps, none which appeals so strongly to the
imagination as the search for the Poles. In all the tales of daring
courage and patient, persistent bravery, two qualities which stand
foremost in the admiration of every English-speaking boy, the tales of
the fearless explorers who have faced the terrors and the mystery of the
frozen regions are without a rival.
Just as it was the record of his struggles to penetrate into the unknown
region of the ice-bound North-West Passage which made the name of Sir
John Franklin famous fifty years ago, so is it to-day that the names of
Nansen, Peary, and Andree are household words by reason of the hardihood
and indomitable courage shown in their efforts to reach the great
unknown Pole. Who is there who has not lingered over the adventures of
the _Fram_, that sturdy Norseman's vessel, which combined in herself all
the best qualities of previous Arctic ships, and comported herself,
whether in the ice or out of it, with a dignity that told of her proud
descent and prouder destiny? Who has not marvelled at the sublime
audacity of the gallant little band of three who challenged undying fame
by seeking the Pole in a balloon, abandoning all the old-fashioned
notions about ice-ships and dog-sledges, and trusting themselves and
their enterprise to the four winds of heaven and the latest scientific
scheme? Who has not been thrilled with the daring shown by Nansen and
his trusty lieutenant when, leaving ship and comrades, with their lives
literally in their hands, they made their historic dash and emerged with
what was then the record of "Farthest North," and which has since been
beaten by only twenty miles?
Full of pluck and daring are all the records of Polar exploration, and,
in addition to that attraction, there is something else about the
subject which fascinates and holds the imagination. There is a mystery
about the cold, white, silent region; the mystery of, as yet, an
unsolved problem; the mystery of being one of the few spots on the
world's surface where the foot of adventurous man has never trodden.
Everywhere else man has gone; everywhere else men of our own race have
subdued Nature and wrested her close-kept secrets from her; everywhere
else save the Poles, and there not even the grandeur of modern inventive
genius has enabled man to become the master. We may be nearer now than
ever before; we may have made many places familiar which, less than
fifty years ago, were unknown; and we may, in recent years, have
disproved the theories of many an ancient explorer; but the Poles still
elude us as they eluded those who were searchers a thousand years ago.
It is no modern idea, this search for the North Pole. King Alfred the
Great is credited with having sent expeditions towards it, and long
before his day men had sailed as far as they could to the North, far
enough for them to return with marvellous tales of wonder and mystery.
The earliest of whom there is any record is an ancient Greek mariner,
Pytheas, who sailed North until he came to an island which he named the
Land of Thule. This may have been the Shetlands; it may have been
Iceland; but whatever it was, this ancient mariner was by no means
pleased with it, in spite of the fact that the sun never set all the
time he was there. This prolonged daylight caused him considerable
uneasiness, and he hastened away from it farther to the North, and the
farther he went the more curious he found the region to be. The sun,
which at first refused to set, now refused to rise, and he found himself
in perpetual darkness instead of perpetual day. More than that, he tells
how he came to a great dark wall rising up out of the sea, beyond which
he could discern nothing, while at the same time something seized and
held his ship motionless on the water, so that the winds could not move
it and the anchor would not sink. He was quite convinced in his own mind
where he had come; the wall in front of him was the parapet which ran
round the edge of the world to prevent people from falling over, and,
like a wise man, he hastened home and told his friends that he had
penetrated to the limits of the earth.
What the Arctic regions were then, they are to-day; but we, with a
greater knowledge, are able to understand what was incomprehensible to
the ancient Greek navigator. At the North Pole itself it is known the
sun rises and sets only once in twelve months. From March 21 to
September 23 daylight continues; from September 23 to March 21 the sun
is never visible. The heat at midsummer is probably never above freezing
point; at midwinter the cold is so intense that one's eyes would freeze
in their sockets if exposed to it.
At the limit of the ice two phenomena are met with which explain the
fanciful legend of Pytheas. As summer gives place to the cold of autumn,
and as winter gives way to the mild temperature of spring, there comes
down upon the water a dense mass of fog, to which the name "frost-smoke"
is given. It would appear, as it rolled along the surface of the ocean,
a veritable wall to one accustomed to the clear atmosphere of the
Mediterranean, and a thin sheet of ice might give the meaning to the
"something" which held the ship stationary. Modern explorers have known
the sea to freeze an inch thick in a single night, and ice an inch thick
would probably be enough to check the progress of such a vessel as
Pytheas would command.
Later navigators, curious to learn whether his story were true or not,
followed his course. Some of them went on until they were caught in the
rigours of the Arctic winter and perished in the crashing ice-floes.
Occasionally some came home again, after having reached far enough to
see the great icebergs, floating with all their stately majesty in the
blue waters and towering as high as mountains, their summits a mass of
glittering pinnacles and their sides scored and grooved with cavities
and caverns. Some of them saw the animals which live in that cold,
barren region; the great white bear, with its coat of thick shaggy fur,
its long ungainly figure and heavy swaying neck; the walrus, with its
gleaming tusks hanging down from its upper jaws; the seals, with their
great round eyes staring at the unknown intruders; above all, the huge
whales, spouting and floundering in the sea, coming to the surface with
a snort which sent the spray flying high in the air, and disappearing
again with a splash that was like a crashing billow. Little wonder that
those who returned from seeing such sights and hearing such strange
sounds should tell wonderful stories about the weird creatures
inhabiting the place.
The sounds must have been as terrifying and mystifying as the sights,
for in the clear, intense atmosphere of the winter months, noise travels
over almost incredible distances. When Parry was on Melville's Island,
he records having heard the voices of men who were talking not less than
a mile away. In the depth of winter, when the great cold has its icy
grip on everything, the silence is unbroken along the shores of the
Polar Sea; but when the frost sets in, and again when the winter gives
way to spring, there is abundance of noise. As the frost comes down
along the coast, rocks are split asunder with a noise of big guns, and
the sound goes booming away across the frozen tracts, startling the
slouching bear in his lonely haunts, and causing him to give vent to his
hoarse, barking roar in answer. The ice, just forming into sheets,
creaks and cracks as the rising or falling tide strains it along the
shore; fragments, falling loose upon it, skid across the surface with
the ringing sound which travels so far. In the spring the melting
ice-floes groan as they break asunder; with a mighty crash the
unbalanced bergs fall over, churning the water into foam with their
plunge, and bears and foxes and all the other Arctic animals call and
bark to one another as they awaken from their winter sleep. Just as
these incidents occur to-day, so did they occur a thousand years ago;
and if to modern ears they sound weird and awe-inspiring, what must they
have been to the men who succeeded Pytheas?
Nor does this exhaust the marvel of this bleak and fascinating region.
In the long winter nights the aurora borealis glares and blazes in the
sky, "roaring and flashing about a ship enough to frighten a fellow," as
an old quartermaster, who was with Sir F. L. McClintock in his search
for Sir John Franklin, used to tell the midshipmen. In the prolonged
sunset and sunrise the sky is ablaze with colour, and, when the sun has
gone, the rarefied atmosphere produces many curious astronomical
figures. As explorers penetrated farther into the great ice-bound region
they encountered fresh peculiarities. The moon, which shone continuously
during the three weeks of its course, frequently appeared surrounded by
belts and bands of light, in which mock moons were visible. Long after
the sun had disappeared a mock sun would shine in the sky, and in the
twilight, when shadows were no longer cast, men and dogs were liable to
walk over cliffs and fall down crevices in the ice through being unable
to distinguish them. Penetrating farther into the ice world, they
learned that throughout the winter the ice heaved and crashed upon
itself, making an incessant uproar as it groaned and creaked. The
experience of Nansen and the _Fram_ emphasised this, but in the earlier
days of Polar research silence was presumed to reign in the vicinity of
the Arctic basin.
In those early days the expeditions usually kept close to the northern
coasts of either Europe, Asia, or America. Sir Hugh Willoughby, who
sailed from England in 1553, confined himself to seeking the north-east
passage from Behring Sea to Greenland along the north coast of Canada.
In 1576 Frobisher explored part of the region, the work being continued
by Davis, who in 1585-8 discovered and explored the strait which still
bears his name, to the west of Greenland. In 1610 Hudson, an intrepid
trader and explorer, sailed into Hudson's Bay, and five years later
Baffin sailed into and through Baffin's Bay. The result of these two
discoveries was to open up a very valuable fur trade, and for the next
two hundred years, fur traders and whalers were practically the only men
who went into the frozen North. In 1818 the British Navy again entered
the field for the purpose of mapping out the northern coasts of America.
Captains Ross and Parry were sent out in two vessels, with the result
that knowledge of the locality was extended by the discovery of
Lancaster Sound, Prince Regent Inlet, Barrow Strait, and Melville
Island. The location of these islands and straits aroused still keener
curiosity as to whether there was or was not a passage for ships leading
from the Pacific to the Atlantic Oceans along the north coast of
America. The search for the North-West Passage was the dream of every
Arctic explorer at this period. It fell to the lot of one man to prove
the existence of the passage, at a price, however, of his own life, and
the lives of all his companions, as well as the loss of his two ships.
This was Sir John Franklin, whose Polar exploits form the subject of the
succeeding chapter.
CHAPTER II
SIR JOHN FRANKLIN
Young Franklin--His Dreams of Adventure--He becomes a Sailor--His
First Arctic Expedition--Fails to get through Behring
Straits--Explores Baffin's Bay--The 1845 Expedition--The _Erebus_
and _Terror_--The "Good-Bye" at Greenland--Wellington Channel--They
select Winter Quarters--Discovery of the North-West Passage--Death
of Franklin--Prisoned in the Ice--The Crew Abandon the
Ships--Defeat and Death.
Sir John Franklin was born at Spilsby, in Lincolnshire, on April 16,
1786, and was one of a family of ten. It is said that his father
originally intended him for the clergy, but the boy had too restless and
roving a nature to look with contentment upon a quiet, uneventful life.
Nelson was the idol of his heart, and although a hundred years ago boys
were not quite so well provided with books and stories of their heroes
as they are to-day, young Franklin managed to acquire enough knowledge
of the doings of Nelson, and the other great British Admirals, to make
his heart thrill with enthusiasm for them, and for the element upon
which their greatness had been achieved.
His home was not so many miles away from the coast but that he had a
personal acquaintance, from early boyhood, with the scent of salt water
and the sight of the open sea. That, combined with what he learned of
Nelson, and the romantic yarns spun to him by any old sailor he chanced
upon, exerted over him the spell which, in all ages, has so powerfully
influenced British boys. The long stretch of moving water, which rolled
between him and the skyline, was the home of all that was wonderful and
glorious; the ships which sailed over it were, to his enthusiastic mind,
palaces of delight, journeying into realms of mystery, adventure, and
beauty. Over that sea lay the lands where the coco-palms grew, where
Indians hunted and fought, and where mighty beasts of strange and
fantastic shapes roamed through the palm groves. Over that sea, also,
lay the realms of ice and snow, of which more marvellous tales were told
than of the golden islands of the Southern Seas. And to sail over that
sea a great yearning came upon him. The life on shore, in peaceful,
steady-going Lincolnshire, was too dreary and hopeless for him; nowhere
could he be happy save on that boundless ocean, with room to breathe,
and surrounded by all the glamour of romance.
Fortunately for the glory of British naval history, the elder Franklin
did not shut his eyes to the attractions the sea had for his son, but,
as a wise parent, he regarded the wish to follow the sea as merely a
boyish whim. It would be better to let the boy have a taste of the
realities of the life at once, and so cure the fancy which threatened to
interfere with the paternal desires as regards the clergy. Every one
knew how attractive a sailor's life looked from the shore, and most
people knew how much more attractive life on shore looked from the sea.
If John wanted to see what a sailor's life was like, he should have his
opportunity, and the father, in arranging for his son to sail in a
trading vessel to Lisbon and back, probably felt satisfied that the
rough fare and hard work he would experience would effectually cure him
of any desire for more. But the future Arctic hero was made of sterner
stuff than to be turned away from his ambition by such trivial
circumstances. He returned from the Lisbon trip more enthusiastic than
ever for a sailor's life. His father gave way before so much
determination, and young Franklin shortly afterwards entered the Navy.
His first ship was H.M.S. _Polyphemus_, and he was present on board at
the battle of Copenhagen, under the supreme command of his idol Nelson.
His first Arctic experience did not come until 1818, when he had reached
the rank of lieutenant and was second in command of an expedition sent
out to find a way through Behring's Straits. Two vessels formed the
expedition--the _Dorothea_, 370 tons, under Captain Buchan, and the
_Trent_, 250 tons, under Lieutenant Franklin, the latter carrying a crew
of ten officers and twenty-eight men. Their instructions were to sail
due North, from a point between Greenland and Spitzbergen, making their
way, if possible, through Behring's Straits. The ships, which would
to-day only rank as small coasting craft, were soon imprisoned in the
ice and so severely crushed that as soon as the winter passed and escape
was possible, they were turned towards home. The practical results of
the expedition were valueless, and only one circumstance in connection
with it saved it from being a failure. This was the introduction of
Franklin to that sphere of work which, during the remainder of his life,
he was fated so brilliantly to adorn.
The following year, 1819, saw him again facing the North, this time in
company with Captain Parry, and with a well-arranged plan of operations.
Parry was to remain in the ships and explore at sea, while Franklin was
to push along the shores of Baffin's Bay, making as complete a survey as
possible. For three years the work was continued, until, by 1822, the
party had travelled over 5550 miles of previously unexplored country
along the North American coast. Returning to England, Franklin enjoyed a
well-earned rest, until, in 1825, he was placed in charge of an
expedition to complete the surveys of the coast along which the
North-West Passage was supposed to run. With the experience of his
former expedition, he was able to work more rapidly on this occasion,
and by 1827 he was back again in England with his task completed. Not
alone had all the surveys been carried out, but he had demonstrated his
qualities as a leader of Polar expeditions by returning with the loss of
only two men.
[Illustration: W. E. PARRY'S ATTEMPT TO REACH THE POLE, 1827.]
In spite of this, however, nearly twenty years were to elapse before he
was again entrusted with a command in the Arctic regions. He was sent,
meanwhile, to be governor of the colony of Tasmania, or, as it was then
called, Van Diemen's Land, a large island to the south of Australia.
Here in the metropolis, Hobart, a statue of Franklin stands in Franklin
Square, and it is curious to think that the man whose work in the
Northern Hemisphere is an immortal monument of his name in the region of
the North Pole should have his memory perpetuated by a statue nearer the
South Pole than any in the Southern Hemisphere. Verily, a world-wide
reputation.
In 1845 the expedition started which, more than anything else, tended to
make Franklin the popular hero he has become. The _Erebus_ and _Terror_,
which formed the fleet, had already proved their capacity for
withstanding the strain and pressure of the ice-floes. They each carried
a crew numbering sixty-seven officers and men, and while Franklin took
charge of the _Erebus_ with Captain Fitz-James, the _Terror_ was
commanded by Captain Crozier. The ships were provisioned for three
years, and the task set them was to discover and sail through the
passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans. The intention of the
Government was to ascertain whether or not this passage existed, and
Franklin was instructed to go by Lancaster Sound to Cape Walker (lat.
74 deg. N.; long. 98 deg. W.) and thence south and west to push through
Behring's Straits to the other ocean.
Franklin was full of enthusiasm as to the outcome of the expedition.
That it would prove the existence of the passage he had no doubt, and
subsequent events justified him. But he had bigger notions than merely
proving the passage. "I believe it is possible to reach the Pole over
the ice by wintering at Spitzbergen and going in the spring before the
ice breaks up," he said before starting, and no one would have been
surprised had he returned in the three years with a record of the
journey. Public interest was thoroughly aroused in the enterprise, and
when the two vessels set sail from Greenhithe on May 19, 1845, they had
a brilliant send-off. On June 1 they arrived at Stromness in the Orkney
Islands, and on July 4 at Whale Fish Island, off the coast of Greenland,
where the despatch-boat _Barreto Junior_ parted company with them to
bring home Franklin's despatches to the Admiralty, reporting "All Well."
Later on came the news that Captain Dannett, of the whaler _Prince of
Wales_, had spoken to them in Melville Bay.
Then the months passed and grew into years, and still no sign or token
was received from them. Public opinion, stimulated by the interest taken
in the departure of the expedition, began to grow anxious at the
prolonged silence; but the last despatches had been received and the
last tidings direct from the ships had come to hand. Over their
subsequent actions and adventures the heavy veil of the Frozen North
hung until intrepid searchers raised it and learned the sad but gallant
story of how the North-West Passage was discovered and the route to the
Pole marked clearer.
When the _Erebus_ and _Terror_ parted company with the despatch-boat on
July 4, they shaped their course through Baffin's Bay towards Lancaster
Sound. Continuing their way, they passed Cape Warrender and ultimately
reached Beechy Island at the entrance of the then unexplored waters of
Wellington Channel. They passed through the channel, taking such
observations as were necessary as they went, until they had sailed 150
miles. Further progress being stopped by the ice, they passed into
another unexplored channel between Cornwallis Island and Bathurst Island
which led them into Barrow's Straits, nearly 100 miles west of the
entrance to Wellington Channel.
The ice was now forming thickly around them, and attention was directed
to discovering a comfortable haven where they could come to rest and
remain while the ice closed in around them during the long winter
months. A suitable harbour was found on the northeasterly side of Beechy
Island and the ships were made snug. All the spars that could be sent
down were lowered on to the decks, and the rigging and sails stowed away
below before the ice surrounded them, so that when the floes began to
pack and lifted the hulls of the vessels, there should be no
"top-hamper" to list them over. On the frozen shore huts were built for
the accommodation of shore parties, and, as the ice spread around and
the snow fell, the men found exercise and amusement in heaping it up
against the sides of the vessels as an extra protection against the
cold, the thick mass of frozen snow preventing the escape of the warmth
from the inside of the ships. But where there were fires always going to
maintain the temperature of the cabins, the danger of an outbreak of
fire had to be zealously guarded against. With all the ship's pumps
rendered useless by the frost, and the water frozen solid all around, a
conflagration on board a vessel in the Arctic seas is one of the
grimmest of terrors. The safeguard is the maintenance, in the ice near
the vessel's side, of a "fire hole," that is, a small space kept open by
constant attention down to the level of unfrozen water.
During the long winter months there was plenty of time to estimate the
progress they had made, and there must have been considerable
satisfaction on all sides at what they had accomplished. They had
circumnavigated Cornwallis Island and had reached to within 250 miles of
the western end of the passage.
The first Christmas festival of the voyage was kept up with high revel.
If fresh beef was not available, venison was, and there was plenty of
material for the manufacture of the time-honoured "duff." The officers
and men, clad in their thick, heavy fur garments, clustered together as
the simple religious service was read, and over the silent white
covering of sea and land the sound of their voices rolled as they sang
the hymns and carols which were being sung in their native land. Then
came the merrymaking and the feasting in cabins decked with bunting, for
no green stuff was available for decorating.
The first New Year's Day was saddened by the death of one of their
comrades, and the silent ice-fields witnessed another impressive sight
when the crews of both vessels slowly marched ashore to the grave dug in
the frozen soil of Beechy Island. The body, wrapped in a Union Jack, was
borne by the deceased man's messmates, the members of his watch headed
by their officers following, and after them the remainder of the
officers and crew. The bells of each ship tolled as the _cortege_ passed
over the ice, the crunching of the crisp snow under foot being the only
other sound till the grave was reached. There the solemn and impressive
service of a sailor's funeral was said, the mingled voices as they
repeated the responses passing as a great hum through the still, cold
air. A momentary silence followed as the flag-swathed figure was lowered
into the grave, and then a quick rattle of firearms as the last salute
was paid echoed far and wide among the icebergs.
Twice more was that scene repeated before the ships cleared from the
ice, and one of the first signs discovered by the searchers after
Franklin were the three headstones raised on that lonely isle to the
memory of W. Braine, John Hartwell, and John Torrington, who died while
the ships were wintering in the cold season of 1845-6.
By July the ice had broken up and the voyage was resumed and passed
without any exceptional incident, up to the middle of September 1846,
when they were again caught by the ice, but 150 miles nearer their
destination than the year before. Only 100 miles more to be sailed over
and they would be the conquerors--but that 100 miles was too firmly
blocked with ice-floes for them ever to sail over.
The winter of 1846-7 was passed just off the most extreme northerly
point of King William's Land. The ice was particularly heavy, and hemmed
the vessels in completely, the surface being too rugged and uneven to
permit of travelling in the immediate vicinity even of hunting parties.
This was the more unfortunate because the provisions were growing scant,
and supplies brought in by hunters would have been of great assistance.
At the time of starting, the vessels had only been provisioned for three
years. Two had now passed, so that only a twelvemonth's stock of food
remained in the holds. It might occupy them all the next summer in
working through the remaining 100 miles of the passage, and that would
leave them with another winter to face, unless they were sufficiently
fortunate in finding open water when they reached the end. But, on the
other hand, they might not be able to get through in the time, or the
passage might not be navigable. Either possibility was full of very
grave anxiety for those in command, for it was a terrible prospect of
being left, with 130 men to feed, in the midst of the frozen sea, "a
hundred miles from everywhere."
The anxiety felt was shown by the despatch, as early as May, or two
months before the first flush of summer was due, of a specially selected
party of quick travellers to push forward over the ice and spy out the
prospects ahead. Lieutenant Graham Gore, of the _Erebus_, commanded the
party, which consisted of Charles des Voeux, ship's mate, and six
seamen. They carried only enough stores to last them on their journey,
and each one had to contribute his share to the labour of hauling the
hand-sledges over the jagged ridges of broken ice. Skirting along the
coast of King William's Land, they arrived at a point from the top of
which they were able to discern the mainland coast trending away to the
horizon, with a sea of ice in front. It was the long-dreamed-of end of
the North-West Passage.
To commemorate the fact the little party built a cairn upon the summit
of the point, which they named Point Victory, and enclosed in a tin
canister they deposited, under the cairn, a record of their trip and its
result. Twelve years later this record was found, and by it the honour
due to Franklin for the discovery of the passage was confirmed. But the
manner of its finding must be told later on.
Elated with the success of their efforts, Lieutenant Gore and his
companions retraced their way back to the ships, for with the end of
their journey so near at hand, all fears of the provisions running short
were at an end. As soon as the ice broke up they would be away into the
sea they had seen from Point Victory, and sailing home with their
mission accomplished, their task completed, and nothing but honour and
glory waiting them at home. As soon as they came within sight of the two
ships, perched up among the ice ridges, they shouted out to their
comrades to let them know of the success achieved. Round about the ships
they saw men standing in groups, but instead of answering cheers, the
men only looked in their direction. Unable to understand why so much
indifference was displayed, Lieutenant Gore and his companions hurried
forward, and, as they came nearer, some of the men separated themselves
from the groups and came to meet them with slow steps.
Soon the cause of their depression was made known to the returned
explorers. The leader of the expedition lay dying in his cabin on board
the _Erebus_.
Lieutenant Gore, his enthusiasm at his success sadly damped, went on
board the flagship at once, hoping that the news of victory might still
be given to Sir John before he died. He was led into the cabin and
briefly told the story of his journey, and how, from Point Victory, he
had looked out over to the coast of the mainland. The news, the last
which Sir John Franklin was to hear on earth, was perhaps the sweetest
he had ever known, for it meant that he had triumphed and had won a
lasting name and memory for his services to Sovereign and State. On June
11, 1847, his life ended at the moment of his brightest achievement.
Captain Crozier, of the _Terror_, assumed command of the expedition,
and as summer was at hand, everything was made ready against the time
when the ice would break up. Ice-saws were fixed ready to cut passages
through the floes when they began to separate, and ice-anchors were run
out so that the vessels could be warped along whenever an opening
occurred. Daily the crews mustered on board and looked over the ice for
some sign of the breaking of their imprisonment, for some loosening of
the iron grip of the ice round their vessel's sides, but all in vain.
The two ships were wedged in a vast mass of ice, through which it was
impossible to cut their way. Instead of breaking up in lesser fields and
floes of ice, the mass remained packed, creaking, crashing, and
straining by night and day as it slowly made its way nearer the coast of
the mainland, carrying the ships with it until they were within 15 miles
of Point Victory, and 60 miles of the mainland coast.
Soon the short summer months had passed and the dark period of winter
was upon them again, with the provisions daily growing scarcer, and the
hope of getting their ships out of the ice fainter. Another evil came
upon them when among the members of the crew scurvy, the dreaded enemy
of the early Polar explorers, broke out. By the following April twenty
of their number had succumbed to it, nine being officers, one of whom
was Lieutenant Gore.
On April 22, 1848, the remaining 105 officers and men gathered on the
ice around the two ships. They had with them sledges laden with what
provisions were left, and two whale-boats. Slowly and sorrowfully they
bade farewell to the vessels which had been their homes for nearly three
years, and set out to march over the ice to the mainland. Their plan was
to push on until they reached the Great Fish River, where they might
obtain succour either from travelling bands of Indians or at some
outlying station of the Hudson Bay Company. Travelling at the rate of
five miles a day, so rough and difficult was the route, they arrived on
April 25 at the cairn where Lieutenant Gore had left the record of his
journey over a year before. The canister in which it was enclosed was
opened, and round the margin was written this brief, pathetic story:--
"April 25, 1848. H.M.S. _Terror_ and _Erebus_ were deserted on April 22,
five leagues N.N.W. of this point, having been beset since September 12,
1846. The officers and men, consisting of 105 souls, under the command
of Captain F. R. M. Crozier, landed here in lat. 69 deg. 37' 42" N., long.
98 deg. 41' W. The paper was found by Lieutenant Irving in a cairn supposed
to have been built by Sir James Ross in 1831, four miles to the north,
where it had been deposited by the late Commander Gore in June 1847. Sir
James Ross's pillar has not, however, been found, and the paper has been
transferred to this position, which, it is thought, is where Sir James
Ross's pillar was erected. Sir John Franklin died on June 11, 1847, and
the total loss of life by death in the expedition has been to this date
nine officers and fifteen men. Start to-morrow, April 26, for Back's
Fish River."
The record, left as a sign, should it ever be found, of the direction
they had taken, the party resumed their dreary march over the frozen
shores of King William's Land. The men formed themselves into teams for
the purpose of dragging the sledges and whale-boats, and the officers
marched beside them, helping them and encouraging them. Even the snail's
pace of five miles a day became too severe a strain for many of the men,
weakened as they were by attacks of scurvy and reduced rations. Soon it
became evident that if a place were to be reached where help and food
could be obtained before the provisions were absolutely exhausted, it
would be necessary for the stronger to push forward at a more rapid
rate.
A council was held, and it was decided that the strongest should take
enough supplies to last them for a time and push forward as rapidly as
possible, while the remainder should follow at a slower rate and by
shorter stages. The majority were in the latter division, and only a few
days elapsed after the smaller band, numbering about thirty, had left,
before the ravages of scurvy and semi-starvation made it impossible for
even less than five miles a day to be covered. So debilitated were all
the members that further advance was abandoned until they had, by
another long rest, tried to recuperate their energies. But the terrible
bleakness of the place where they were wrought havoc among them, and
every day men fell down never to rise again, until the only hope for the
survivors lay in returning to the ships, where, at least, they would
have shelter. Wearily they staggered over the rugged ice ridges, each
man expending his remaining energies in striving to carry the
provisions, without which only death awaited them. Men fell as they
walked, unnoticed by their companions, whose only aim was to get back to
the ships, and whose faculties were too dimmed to understand anything
else. Blindly, but doggedly, they stumbled onward, silent in their
agony, brave to the last when worn-out nature gave way and they sank
down, one after the other, till none was left alive, and only the still
figures, lying face downwards on the frozen snow, bore mute witness of
how they had neither faltered nor wavered in their duty, but had died,
as Britons always should die, true to the end.
Their comrades who had left them to push forward for help were equally
stolid in their struggle against overwhelming odds. As they were
crossing the ice between King William's Land and the mainland, a great
cracking of the floes startled them with the fear that the ice was
breaking up. Hastily placing their stores in the whale-boat, which they
had been dragging in addition to the hand-sledges, they abandoned
everything else, fearful lest the sudden opening of the floes might cut
them off from a further advance. Harnessing themselves to ropes, they
toiled and struggled onward with the boat. They reached the mainland,
but at a terrible sacrifice, for in their haste they had left much of
their scanty supplies behind. Their food ran out and hope was almost
dead, when they espied a small camp of Eskimo.
Fresh life came to them as they learned that they were nearly up to the
Great Fish River, and they bartered away some spoons and forks, Sir John
Franklin's star, part of a watch and some other metal articles to the
Eskimo for a recently killed seal. Had they waited longer with the
natives, they might have obtained more food and have recovered somewhat
from their fatigue, but in the mind of each was the memory of their
stricken comrades toiling on behind, and hoping from day to day for the
arrival of relief. Personal feelings were forgotten before that memory,
and the gallant little party resumed its way, fighting with all the
dauntless bravery of heroes to win help for their weaker
friends--fighting till their limbs refused to move, till their starving
bodies were numbed and frozen. Then, falling in their own footsteps,
they passed away, one by one, silent and uncomplaining, to the list of
Britain's honoured dead.
CHAPTER III
THE SEARCH FOR FRANKLIN
Captain Parker's Report--Government offers a Reward--Dr. Rae's
Expedition--Captain McClure's Voyage in the
_Investigator_--Hardships and Perils--The Meeting with the
_Herald_--Lady Franklin still Hopeful--Sir F. L. McClintock's
Expedition in the _Fox_ with Lieutenant Hobson--Their Sad and Fatal
Discoveries--Lieutenant Schwatka recovers the Body of Lieutenant
Irving.
The enthusiasm which was aroused over the departure of Sir John
Franklin's expedition gave place to a deep national anxiety as the years
passed without any word being received of its whereabouts. On October 4,
1849, the _Truelove_ arrived at Hull from Davis Straits, and her
commander, Captain Parker, reported that he had heard from some Eskimo
that the _Erebus_ and the _Terror_ had been seen in the previous March
fixed in the ice, and apparently abandoned in Prince Regent's Inlet. No
confirmation was ever obtained for this report, but it served to excite
public anxiety still more, and expeditions began to be organised for the
relief of the missing explorers. In all, twenty-one expeditions were
sent, of which eighteen were British and three American, to search the
neighbourhood where it was anticipated Sir John and his gallant band
would be. Coals, provisions, clothing, and other necessaries were
deposited at different spots in the hopes that they would be found by,
and be of use to, the castaways. But, as has already been stated, none
were able to give succour to the men for whose use they were intended.
A great deal of valuable and highly interesting work, however, was done,
and in addition to at length discovering enough relics of the party to
show that all the members had perished while carrying out their duty, an
amount of knowledge was acquired which made the North-West Passage
familiar, located the Magnetic Pole, and opened the way for more recent
and equally brilliant journeys towards the Pole itself. The general
public, as well as the Government, were responsible for search
expeditions; but to stimulate the enterprise, the British Government
offered a sum of L20,000 to any party of any country that should render
efficient service to the crews of the missing _Erebus_ and _Terror_.
Half that reward was paid to Dr. Rae, who discovered the relics of the
party, now at the Greenwich Museum, consisting of Sir John Franklin's
star, some spoons and forks, the remains of a watch, and some other
metallic odds and ends.
The story of this discovery was briefly told by Dr. Rae in a letter to
the Admiralty. He was, in 1854, surveying the coast of the mainland
immediately south of King William's Land, when he encountered a small
party of Eskimo hunters. He asked them whether they had ever met other
white men, and they told him that four summers before (1850) a number of
white men had been encountered by some Eskimo who were catching seals
off the south coast of King William's Land. The white men came from over
the ice, and were dragging a boat behind them. By signs they made the
hunters understand that they were hungry, and a seal was exchanged for
the articles Dr. Rae was shown. Then the white men went on walking over
the ice, dragging the boat behind them, one walking in front alone, and
all the rest pulling the ropes attached to the boat. A few weeks later
they were seen again, this time on the mainland, but all were dead. The
place where they were found was about one day's journey from the Great
Fish River, and all had evidently died of cold and starvation. They had
erected tents and had turned the boat over for a shelter, and some of
the men lay under the boat, while others were in and around the tents.
One man was some distance away with a telescope slung over his
shoulders, and underneath his body was a double-barrelled gun. This man,
they said, was the chief of the party.
About the encampment there were plenty of guns and ammunition, but no
food. More than likely the unfortunate castaways were too weak from want
to be able to hunt, for Dr. Rae, in his reports, stated: "I may add that
with our guns and nets we obtained an ample supply of provisions last
autumn, and my small party passed the winter in snow houses in
comparative comfort, the skins of the deer shot affording abundant warm
clothing and bedding."
Next to the story of Dr. Rae's discovery comes the account of the
finding by Lieutenant Hobson, on May 6, 1859, of the record left on
Point Victory, and after that again, the recovery, in 1879, by
Lieutenant Schwatka, of the United States Navy, of the bodies of several
of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_ crews. But meanwhile a glance may be taken
at some of the thrilling adventures which befell the different relief
expeditions. The account of Captain McClure's voyage in the
_Investigator_, graphically told by himself in his reports to the
Admiralty, is full of typical Arctic adventure.
The _Investigator_ was one of several ships forming one of the
expeditions. After sailing in company for some time they separated to
work over set areas. The _Investigator_ entered the Polar Sea and sailed
along the North-East Passage. She was soon amongst the ice, and sailed
on in a depth of 150 feet of water until the pack showed a solid
unbroken line in front from east to west. Then she sailed along it, in
the hopes of finding an opening; but all that could be seen, beyond the
ice, was a vast number of walrus, lying upon it huddled together like
sheep. Between the ice and the land, however, there was open water, and
here the _Investigator_ shaped her course, keeping well in towards the
shore on the look-out for natives. There was an interpreter on board,
Miertsching by name, so that whenever any natives were encountered
inquiries could be made for tidings of the missing explorers. At Cape
Bathurst, near the Mackenzie River, a part Franklin had explored many
years before, a large tribe was observed, and at once a boat party put
off from the ship.
As they approached the shore, thirty tents and nine winter-houses were
seen. Immediately the boats were run ashore a tremendous stir was caused
in the village, the men running to and fro and then charging down a
steep slope to where the boats were aground on the beach. As they drew
near it was seen that each man carried a drawn knife in his hand, as
well as bows and arrows, and their warlike intentions were still more
clearly shown when they fitted arrows to the bows and began to aim at
the white men. The interpreter Miertsching, clad in native costume,
advanced from the explorers towards the angry Eskimo, holding his hands
above his head in the position which expresses peace amongst these
primitive people.
They paused as they saw him, and waited until he came up; but although
they put back their bows and arrows when he told them no one wished to
harm them, they would not relinquish their knives. As they crowded down
to the boats, the captain told him to explain to them that they must put
their knives away; but the chief of the tribe immediately retorted, "So
we will, when you put down your rifles." To prove their peaceful
intentions, one of the rifles was given to the chief to carry while the
explorers remained with them, and this action so effectually satisfied
them that no harm would be done to them that they offered to let their
visitors take charge of their knives.
The village contained over three hundred men, women, and children, and
was formed for hunting purposes. The mass of ice showing across the open
passage, they said, was the land of the white bear, an animal which,
they explained, was very plentiful and of which they were greatly in
fear. Several tales were told of the savagery of these creatures, a
woman pitifully bewailing the loss of her little child, who was carried
off by one of them when playing at the water's edge within her sight. A
less mournful story was that of a seal hunter who, having speared one
seal, was sitting by the side of his victim waiting for the mate to
appear above the water, when he felt a tap on the back. Suspecting a
trick by a fellow-huntsman, he did not turn round, whereupon he received
a heavy blow on the side of the head which sent him sprawling. As he
scrambled to his feet, angry at his comrade's roughness, he saw a big
bear walking off with his seal.
Upon the interpreter explaining how the white men's rifles could kill
the bears, the chief at once invited him to come and live with them,
offering as inducements his own daughter, a pleasant-looking girl of
about fifteen, a fully furnished tent, and all the other necessary
possessions of a well-to-do Eskimo. Failing in that, they invited the
explorers to a feast of roast whale and venison, salmon, blubber, and
other delicacies; but instead of taking from them, the explorers
presented them with a number of gifts, and left them on the best of
terms.
A few days later and farther along the coast another small band was
encountered, one of whom was wearing a brass button in his ear. The
button was off a sailor's jacket, and upon being asked how he obtained
it, the man replied it had been taken from a white man who had been
killed by the tribe. He was asked for further particulars, in case the
unfortunate might turn out to be one of Franklin's men. The Eskimo
replied that it might have been done a year ago or when he was a child,
but the huts the white men had built were still standing. The explorers
at once persuaded him to take them to the spot, but on arrival they
found the huts so weather-worn and overgrown with moss that more than a
generation must have passed since they were built.
[Illustration: AN IMMENSE ICEBERG.
This berg was photographed off the coast of Newfoundland. It had
probably made its way there from the glaciers of Greenland.
_Photo by Parsons._]
This was not the only occasion when hopes were raised that some of the
missing expedition were about to be discovered. As the _Investigator_
continued her voyage along the coast, heavy volumes of smoke were seen
rising from a bluff, and the man on the look-out in the crow's-nest at
the top of the foremast cried out that he could see white tents and men
with white shirts on near them. At once everybody was on the alert.
Boats were lowered and rowed quickly to the shore, but on close
inspection the white tents were found to be conical mounds of volcanic
formation, and the smoke, which was also volcanic, was rising from
fissures in the ground.
Winter was now setting in, and as there was no suitable harbour at hand,
Captain McClure determined to pass the season amongst the ice-floes. His
decision was largely due to the fact that as the ice was forming around
them, a great mass of old ice, over six miles in length and drifting at
the rate of two miles an hour, came upon them. Its enormous weight
crushed everything out of its way, and the ship could only manoeuvre
sufficiently to graze it with her starboard bow. Fortunately on the
other side of her there was only freshly formed and comparatively thin
ice, otherwise she would have been hopelessly crushed at once. As it
was, the gradual drifting past of the mass was disconcerting, and it was
decided to make fast to it. A great mass which they ascertained extended
downwards for forty-eight feet below the surface of the sea was
selected, and with heavy cables the _Investigator_ was made secure to
it. Throughout the winter she remained moored to it, though not without
more than one experience of danger.
Soon after making fast to the ice, the first bear of the season was
shot. He was a magnificent specimen, measuring over seven feet, but upon
being cut up considerable speculation was roused as to the contents of
his stomach. In it was found raisins, tobacco, pork, and some adhesive
plasters. For some time the combined intellect of the ship's company
was exercised to explain where the bear could have obtained such a
varied diet and many suggestions were advanced in explanation.
Franklin's ships might be near, some said, or the crews might be
encamped on the neighbouring land, and Bruin might have looted their
stores. No one struck the correct solution of the mystery until some
days later a hunting party came upon a preserved meat tin partly filled
with the same sort of articles as were found in the bear's stomach. He
had evidently found the tin and sampled its contents, not entirely to
his enjoyment, as he had left the larger portion behind. But whence the
tin had come they never learned.
The winter having passed without mishap they began to watch for the
breaking of the ice. When it began, they had a very narrow escape from
destruction. A light breeze springing up the day after open water
appeared among the floes, the pack to which the _Investigator_ was
attached began to drift. It was carried towards a shoal upon which a
huge mass of ice was stranded. A corner of the pack came in contact with
the great stationary mass with a grinding shock that sent pieces of
twelve and fourteen feet square flying completely out of the water, and,
as the immense weight of the moving pack pressed forward, there was a
sound as of distant thunder as it crushed onwards. The weight at the
back caused an enormous mass to upheave in the middle of the pack, as
though under the influence of a volcanic eruption. The great field was
rent asunder, the block to which the _Investigator_ was attached taking
the ground and remaining fixed, while the lighter portion swung round
and, with accelerated speed, came directly towards the vessel's stern.
To let go every cable and hawser which held her to the block was the
work of a moment, for every one was on deck keenly on the look-out. The
moving mass caught her stem and forced her ahead and from between the
moving floe and the stationary mass. The two came into grinding
collision and the men on the deck of the vessel saw the great bulk to
which the ship had been attached slowly rise. It went up and up until it
had risen thirty feet above the surface and hung perpendicularly above
the ship. It towered higher than the foreyard, presenting a spectacle
that was at once grandly impressive but terribly dangerous, for if it
fell over upon the _Investigator_ she would be crushed to atoms. For a
few moments the suspense was awful, till the weight of the floe broke
away a mass from the great bulk, which rolled back with a tremendous
roar and rending, and, with some fearful heaves, resumed its former
position. But no longer could it withstand the pressure, and it was
hurried forward with the rest of the floe, grinding along the surface of
the shoal.
The pack having set in towards the shore, the only hopes of safety lay
in keeping with the ice, for, if the _Investigator_ were pushed ashore
by it, there would be little chance of her ever floating again. She was
consequently made fast again and carried along, though with a
tremendous strain on her stern and rudder. It was discovered that the
latter was damaged, but there was no possibility of unshipping it for
repairs while the ice was moving. Towards the afternoon the wind
dropped, the drift became less, and for five hours the rudder received
attention.
Scarcely had it been replaced when once more the ice began to move, and
the crew saw that they were being forced directly upon a large piece of
the broken floe which had grounded. Feeling certain that if the ship
were caught between the grounded mass and the moving floe nothing could
save her from being crushed to pieces, a desperate effort was made to
remove the great mass. The chief gunner, provided with a big canister of
powder, went on to the ice and struggled over the rugged surface until
he reached the stationary mass. He intended to lower the canister under
the mass before exploding it, but the ice was too closely packed around
it to permit of this being done. There was no time to consider any other
plan, so he fixed the blast in a cavity and, firing the fuse, scrambled
back to the ship.
The charge exploded just as the pressure of the floe was beginning to
tell, but the result was apparently valueless. The _Investigator_ by
this time was within a few yards of the great mass, and there seemed to
be no hope of escaping from the crush. Every one on deck was in a state
of anxious suspense, waiting for what was evidently the crisis of their
fate.
Most fortunately the ship went stem-on, as sailors term it, and the
pressure was directed along her whole length instead of along her sides.
Every plank seemed to feel the shock, and the beams groaned as the
pressure increased. The masts trembled, and crackling sounds came from
the bulwarks as she strained under the tension. Momentarily the men
expected that she would collapse under them, when the result of the
gunner's blast was made manifest. It had cracked the mass in three
places, and the pressure of the ship's stern forced the cracks open. The
liberation from the obstacle was at once evident as the mass slowly
divided and, falling over, floated off the shoal. The cable holding the
vessel to the floe parted as she surged forward and the ice-anchors drew
out, while the blocks of ice, as they turned over, lifted her bows out
of the water and heeled her over; but the cheer which broke from the
assembled crew drowned all other noise, for it was as though they had
been snatched from the very jaws of death.
Subsequent examination of the vessel showed that she had escaped
practically without serious injury. Several sheets of her copper were
stripped off and rolled up like scraps of paper; but as no leaks were
discovered, the loss of the copper was not greatly deplored.
After escaping from these dangers it was hoped that open water would be
found, so that the voyage might be continued to other areas which had
to be searched, and, as the _Investigator_ drifted along amongst the
partly broken up floes, she encountered some rolling swells, which
increased the hopes that open water was not far ahead. But in this the
crew were disappointed, for although the water near the land was
sufficiently free from ice to enable sail to be made, out toward the
Polar Sea the pack was heavy and close.
They rounded Cape Lambton on Banks' Land, a promontory which they found
rose a thousand feet precipitously. The land beyond gradually lost the
bold character of the rugged cape, the island presenting a view of hills
in the interior which gradually sloped to the shore, having fine valleys
and extensive plains, over and through which several small and one
considerable sized stream flowed. A great deal of drift-wood lay along
the beach, and the land was covered with verdure upon which large flocks
of geese were feeding, while ducks were flying in great numbers. Two
small islands were passed off the coast, one of which afforded an
example of the force exerted by a drifting Polar Sea ice-floe. The
island rose about forty feet above the surface of the sea, and broken
masses of ice, which had formed a floe, had been driven entirely over
it.
The pack still presented an impassable barrier to their course away from
the land, and as the season was getting late they decided that they
would make winter quarters. A suitable bay was found on the north of the
island, and there they spent, not one, but two winters, for the ice
remained so thick during the ensuing short summer that it was impossible
to move. In the summer, however, if they could not get to sea, they
could travel on to the land, and as game was plentiful they were able to
keep themselves well supplied with fresh meat. But when winter again
came upon them with its cold darkness, the game was scarcer, and, what
was worse, the ship's stores were decreasing.
As perhaps another twelve months would have to be faced, every one went
on reduced rations, so that the stores should be made to last as long as
possible. The approach of the milder weather Captain McClure determined
should be made the occasion of a daring expedition. A few of the men
were beginning to show signs of sickness, and the captain decided that
they should set out in April for the mainland with enough provisions to
carry them through. The ship was so slightly affected by the buffeting
she had received that the leader could not bring himself to think of
abandoning her while he had any stores left and men who were ready to
remain with him. Only the least robust of the crew were to go as the
overlanding party, and they were to travel to the nearest station of the
Hudson Bay Company, and from thence press on to England with despatches
for the Admiralty requesting help and provisions for those who remained
by the ship. Everything was arranged, even to the date of departure,
which was settled as April 15. But before that day arrived another
incident was to transpire.
On April 10, Captain McClure and his first lieutenant were walking over
the ice near the ship, discussing the serious turn events had taken, for
one of the men had just died from scurvy, and some of the others were in
a bad state of health. This was the first death which had occurred, and
it naturally cast a gloom over every one. As the two walked, they espied
a man coming rapidly towards them from over the ice. He was hastening so
much that they thought he must be flying from a bear, and they went
forward to meet him. But as they approached him, they saw that he was
not one of their own ship's company, for he was of a different build to
any of their men, in addition to which his face showed black from
between his furs, and he was waving his arms wildly. They stopped,
doubtful what to make of him, and he rushed up, still gesticulating and
articulating wildly.
"Who are you, and where do you come from?" McClure exclaimed sternly.
"Lieutenant Pim, of the _Herald_, Captain Kellett," the strange figure
managed to reply, as he seized McClure's hands and shook them
frantically.
Rapidly he told the astounded couple his story, for Captain Kellett, of
the _Herald_, had bid McClure God-speed as he was entering the Polar Sea
three years before, and the commander of the _Investigator_ could not
understand how he could have reached Banks' Land.
The _Herald_ was one ship of another expedition which had come in search
of the gallant Franklin. She had wintered at Melville's Island, and
Lieutenant Pim had set out across the straits with a sledge party on
March 10. For a month they had been wandering, and he had happened to be
on ahead of his men when he caught sight of the _Investigator_ in the
distance. He had pushed on to ascertain who she was, when he saw and
recognised Captain McClure. His astonishment and excitement overmastered
him and he could only halloo and shout and jump about in his glee.
The noise of his shouts reached the vessel where the crew, hearing a
strange voice, came tumbling up from below to see who it was that had
arrived. The sight of the _Herald_ sledge party soon afterwards
completed their surprise and gratification, for it meant that close at
hand was all the help they needed to successfully insure their
liberation.
The whole ship's company journeyed across to where the _Herald_ lay,
and, in the interchange of yarns and the assurance of abundance of food
and rest till the ice broke up, they found just the requisite stimulus
to overcome all the evil effects of their past trials and privations.
With a few men from the _Herald_ to relieve the members of his crew who
were on the sick-list, Captain McClure returned to the _Investigator_
after a few days, and when the summer arrived he worked his vessel out
into open water. Then he joined company with the _Herald_ and sailed for
England, whither his despatches and reports had already preceded him and
earned him fame.
The return of Captain McClure and the result of his discoveries,
together with those of other expeditions, and Dr. Rae's find of Franklin
relics, satisfied the British Government that further search was
unavailing. As the account of Sir John Franklin's voyage had not yet
been found, the honour of proving the existence of the North-West
Passage was, for the time being, accorded to McClure, and the Admiralty,
satisfied that all the members of the Franklin expedition had perished,
and the ships either been abandoned or destroyed, ceased despatching
further search parties.
There were, however, a large number of people who were by no means
satisfied that everything possible had been learned as to the fate of
the _Erebus_ and _Terror_. Lady Franklin, Sir John's second wife, was
one who refused to give up hopes, and, largely through her efforts, yet
another vessel was sent out. This was the _Fox_, under the command of
Sir L. F. McClintock, and the voyage was more profuse in the obtaining
of evidence as to the fate of the Franklin party than all the rest put
together.
McClintock made his way directly to King William's Land, with a definite
programme in view. He and his first lieutenant, Hobson, were each to
journey with sledge parties along the coast of that island and examine
everything which suggested a chance of learning the fate of the vanished
explorers. Especially were they to seek for any natives and glean from
them, by means of presents and barter, any knowledge they might have, or
any _relics_ which might remain amongst them, of the two ill-fated
ships.
The _Fox_ was a screw steamer, a fact which very largely contributed to
the success of the expedition, as she was able to make steady progress,
whereas a sailing vessel would have had to wait for favourable winds and
so probably lose a great deal of very valuable time. She sailed from
Aberdeen on July 1, 1857, and returned on September 22, 1859,
accomplishing, in her two years' absence, an amount of discovery which
placed all question of the fate of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_ and their
crews beyond a doubt.
As soon as the _Fox_ was made snug in winter quarters, McClintock and
Hobson set out over the ice in search of some Eskimo. They were
fortunate in discovering a couple of seal hunters, who told them that
some distance away there was a larger party, amongst whom was a man with
knowledge of the missing explorers. They set out with their two friends,
but as night was coming on while yet they had not reached the camp, they
decided to stay where they were till the morning. The two Eskimo, for
one needle apiece, built a snow hut for them in an hour. All of them
went inside the shelter, which they found very acceptable, and prepared
their supper. The food they carried consisted of salt pork and biscuits,
but the two Eskimo would not look at it. Their supper consisted of a
piece of bear's blubber. When they had consumed it they squatted on
their haunches and, with their heads drooped forward on their knees,
went off to sleep for the night.
The following day the main camp was reached, and the white men at once
realised, by the number of articles of European manufacture in the
possession of the Eskimo, that they must have found and looted the
abandoned ships. One of the men told them, through the interpreter, that
several years before there was a ship in the ice off the coast, but that
when the ice melted it had sunk in deep water. He pointed out the
direction where the ship had been, and where there had been a lot of
drift-wood thrown up on the beach--wood out of which, he explained, they
had made their spear handles and tent poles. Other relics were gradually
forthcoming, upon the production by the white men of the barter they had
with them, and a brisk trade was carried on, knives and needles being
exchanged for spoons, forks, and other objects unmistakably from the
wrecked ships. In addition to the relics, some dogs were also secured.
The latter purchase afforded them considerable amusement and often
excitement before they were entirely masters in the art of dog-team
driving. Like everything else worth doing, it has to be learned, and in
his account of his journeyings McClintock quotes one or two instances
where experience was his only teacher. He found, for instance, that when
a dog team is harnessed up to a sledge, every dog does not pull his
hardest, and a suggestion from the whip is advisable. The dog, however,
is inclined to resent it, and at once bites his neighbour by way of
protest. The neighbour in turn bites his neighbour, who does the same,
until the whole team has received the sting arising from the first lash,
and every dog is howling and snapping and jumping over each other. The
application of the whip handle instead of the whip lash is then
necessary, and when at length quiet is restored, the driver has to set
to work to unplait the harness, which has been twisted and tied into a
terrible tangle by the antics of the team. When, at the expense of a
great deal of patience and time, everything is ready for a fresh start,
the inexperienced driver is able to estimate the value of cracking the
whip over, instead of on, the back of a lazy dog.
Even then, however, it is not all plain sailing. The dogs possess a
wisdom of their own, and they never act so well together as when they
reach a piece of particularly rough ice over which the sledge does not
move easily. Directly they find that they have to lean heavily against
the collar to pull the load forward, they, with one accord, turn round,
sit down, and look at the driver. If he is inexperienced, he lays about
him with his whip and the dogs fight and tangle the harness; if he knows
his animals, he puts his shoulder to the sledge, pushes it forward on to
the toes of the team, whereupon each one gets up, hurries out of the way
of the threatening sledge-runners, and, together, pull it easily over
the rough place.
Another peculiarity of the dogs is their extraordinary appetite for
leather. Shark skin the Eskimo consider to be bad for them because of
its excessive roughness, but birds' skins, with the feathers on, are
greatly relished by the insatiable feeders, and, as has been said,
leather is an especial luxury. The dogs are incorrigible thieves and
frequently sneak into the tents, or, if on board ship, into the cabins,
in search of plunder. They are generally greeted with a kick, but should
it be sufficiently energetic to dislodge the kicker's shoe, the dog at
once seizes the delicacy and makes for a quiet spot on the ice where he
can devour it at his leisure.
The dogs, however, which McClintock was able to obtain from the Eskimo
were genuinely useful to him when he and Lieutenant Hobson began their
prolonged search, and his only regret was that he could not get more.
Later explorers have profited by his experience, for now an expedition
is never considered complete that does not carry at least one team.
After leaving the Eskimo encampment, search was continued along the
southern coast of King William's Land, but without very much success.
Returning, they again met the same tribe of Eskimo, and discovered that
when one of the race speaks he does not necessarily tell all that he
knows. During a conversation between the interpreter and one of the
young men, the latter made a reference to the ship that came ashore. As
the man who had previously mentioned the ship said that it sank in deep
water, the young man was asked how it could have come ashore under those
circumstances. The other one sank, he said; the one he meant came
ashore, where he had seen it.
Further inquiries showed that both the ships had been seen and visited
by the Eskimo while they were yet in the ice. One of them they could not
find how to enter, so they made a hole in her side, with the result that
when the ice melted she filled and sank. In one of the bunks they found
a man lying dead, but no other bodies were right near the ship.
Now that they had been discovered in their attempt to evade the truth,
the Eskimo spoke readily enough, giving the exact locality where the
ship had come ashore. Thither McClintock and his companions at once
proceeded. They found enough evidence in the drift-wood on the beach to
show them where the vessel had gone to pieces; but whether it was the
_Erebus_ or the _Terror_, there was nothing to show. They had now,
however, a definite point from whence to commence their search, and
they laid out the probable routes by which the escaping crews would have
travelled. Separating into two parties, so as to cover as much ground as
possible, they started, Lieutenant Hobson leading.
On May 25, 1859, McClintock, while walking along a sandy ridge from
whence the snow had disappeared, noticed something white shining through
the sand. He stooped to examine it, thinking it to be a round white
stone, but closer inspection showed it to be the back of a skull. Upon
the sand being removed, the entire skeleton was found, lying face
downwards, with fragments of blue cloth still adhering to its bleached
bones. The man had evidently been young, lightly built, and of the
average height. Near by were found a small pocket brush and comb, and a
pocket-book containing two coins and some scraps of writing. He had
evidently fallen forward as he was walking, and never risen. As an old
Eskimo woman told Dr. Rae, "they fell down and died as they walked
along," overcome with cold, hunger, and sickness.
The explorers were now in the region where all their finds were to be
made. Five days later McClintock came upon a boat which he found, from a
note attached to it, that Hobson had already examined. It had evidently
escaped the notice of the Eskimo, and, until the white men found it, had
probably not been touched by human hands from the moment its occupants
had died. It was mounted on a sledge, as though it had been hauled over
the ice; but from the fact that its bows pointed towards the spot where
the ships had been, it was surmised that the men were dragging it back
to the vessels when they were overcome. Inside were two bodies, one
lying on its side, under a pile of clothing, towards the stern, and the
other in the bows, in such a position as to suggest that the man had
crawled forward, had laboriously pulled himself up to look over the
gunwale, and had then slipped down and died where he fell. Beside him
were two guns, loaded and ready cocked, as though the man had been
apprehensive of attack. There were also as many as five watches, several
books (mostly with the name of Graham Gore or initials G. G. in them),
abundance of clothes and other articles such as knives, pieces of
sheet-lead, files, sounding leads and lines, spoons and forks, oars, a
sail, and two chronometers, but of food only some tea and chocolate.
The story mutely told by these relics was only too plain. Weary with
hauling it, the majority of the men had left the boat in order to get
back to the ships and obtain a fresh supply of provisions, leaving two,
who were too weak to struggle on, in the boat, as comfortable as they
could be made until some of the others could get back to help them. Then
the days had passed until the store of provisions had been consumed and
the two sufferers had grown weary with waiting, so weary that one had
slept and died under his wraps, and the other, with his remaining
vestige of strength, had crawled forward to peep out once more for the
help that was so long in coming. But only ice had met his gaze, and,
sinking down, he had also passed into that overwhelming sleep, and had
lain undisturbed for twelve years under the covering of the Arctic
snows.
Close search was made in the vicinity of the boat for the remains of any
other of the lost explorers, but nothing was discovered except
drift-wood. The spot where the boat was found was about fifty miles from
Point Victory, sixty-five from the place where the ship had gone ashore,
and seventy from the skeleton that McClintock had discovered on the
ridge.
A few days' march farther on, a cairn was noticed upon the brow of a
point near Cape Victoria. On ascending to it, McClintock found another
note from Hobson, stating that he had already examined it and recovered
from it the record which the crews had deposited there upon the
desertion of the ships, and which is given in the account of the
Franklin voyages. This was the final triumph of the search, for it
conclusively proved that Sir John had been dead before the ships were
abandoned, that he, and not McClure, was the real discoverer of the
North-West Passage, and that the expedition had ended in a disaster as
pitiful as the commencement had been brilliant. Round the cairn were
strewn innumerable relics, showing that the three days which had elapsed
from the time of their leaving the ships had been sufficient to further
decrease the strength and vitality of the scurvy-stricken unfortunates.
No other discovery of moment was made after the unearthing of the vital
record, but Lieutenant Hobson had some experience of what the Franklin
explorers must have suffered. He had abundance of food with him, and
that the best and most nutritious, but he developed scurvy on his
journey, and when he reached the _Fox_ he could not walk without
assistance. No wonder, then, that Franklin's men, starving as well as
sick, should have died by the way.
The return of the _Fox_ in September 1859 effectually set at rest all
doubts as to the fate of the _Erebus_ and _Terror_, and no more search
expeditions were sent out. But in 1879 Lieutenant Schwatka, of the
United States Navy, made an overland journey to that part of King
William's Land where the crews had perished. He found many more
skeletons, doubtless of members of the ill-fated expedition, and
wherever he found one lying above ground he buried it with proper
ceremony, except in a single instance.
This was in the case of an open grave of stones in which the remains of
a skeleton, with some blue cloth adhering to it and some coarse canvas
around it, was lying. Near the remains he found a silver medal bearing
the words, "Awarded to John Irving, Midsummer, 1830, Second Mathematical
Prize."
The presence of the medal identified the remains as being those of
Lieutenant Irving of the _Terror_. As this was the only instance where
identification was possible, Lieutenant Schwatka carefully and
reverently gathered them together and carried them to New York, from
whence they were forwarded to Edinburgh, Irving's native town. There
they were accorded a public funeral on January 7, 1881.
CHAPTER IV
THE VOYAGE OF THE _POLARIS_
Death of Captain Hall--Crew determine to Return--Are Frozen in--A
Party take to the Ice and are Cast Away--They build themselves Snow
Huts--They find some Seals--An Adventure with Bears--The Perils of
the Spring--They sight the _Tigress_ and are Saved--The
Ship-Party's Story and Rescue.
The Government of the United States, in June 1871, despatched the
_Polaris_ to explore and survey the passage between Grinnel Land and
Greenland, and also, if possible, to push on to the Pole.
The _Polaris_, under the command of Captain Hall, sailed from New York
on June 29, 1871, with a crew of thirty-three, and provisioned for some
years. She succeeded in passing through Smith's Sound and Robeson
Channel, and on August 31 she had reached as high a latitude as 82 deg. 11'
N. Returning to the southward, she went into winter quarters; but on
November 8 her captain was struck down with apoplexy. Upon his death all
idea of going further to the North was abandoned, and, as soon as the
spring of 1872 commenced, preparations were made to return to New York.
The ice was particularly heavy, however, and very slow progress was made
when, by August, the _Polaris_ became entangled with some big floes
which checked her in every direction. On August 14, when off the
entrance of Kennedy Channel, in latitude 80 deg., the ice closed round her
and fixed her so firmly that every effort made by the crew to release
her was without avail. A series of floes had closed one upon the other,
and had so compressed themselves together, that all hope of extricating
the _Polaris_ until the ice itself broke up was reluctantly abandoned.
The pack in which she was involved continued to slowly drift to the
South until, two months after her capture, the ship had drifted in the
ice to 78 deg. 28' N. At this point a violent gale occurred, which resulted
in the series of adventures for her crew that has made the voyage of the
_Polaris_ so notable.
As the gale increased in intensity, the huge field of heavy ice in which
the vessel was imprisoned began to heave and grind in an alarming
manner. The masses joined together by the force of earlier collisions
broke asunder under the strain of the wind, but only to close in again
with terrific force and crashing. Every time that separated portions of
the pack came together with a crash, the ice around the vessel creaked
and moved, and the _Polaris_ herself strained in every timber under the
trial.
A sudden parting asunder of the pack where she was encased liberated her
for the moment. Freed from the grip of the ice, the force of the wind
was more evident, and she heeled over to the gale as it caught her in
the temporarily open water. Before she could right herself, the ice
closed in again upon her sides. The rending and crashing which followed
the "nip" convinced all on board that the vessel was too crushed ever to
float again, and, while the floe held together and she was kept from
foundering, the crew set about putting stores, tents, clothing, arms,
and anything else they could lay hands on, over the side on to the ice.
They feared that with the next split the vessel would be in the water
again, and there was no doubt in any one's mind but that she would then
sink like a stone. No one knew how long it might be before that split
came, and in the meantime every one worked at the only means of saving
their lives. Nineteen of the ship's company scrambled out on to the
pack, and, as their comrades passed out the various stores and articles
they were able to seize, those on the ice stacked them, as well as they
could, on a massive hummock.
Through the wind and the cold they worked, neither pausing for rest nor
refreshment. All around them the ice was heaving and grinding, and over
them the cold northerly gale was blowing and driving great clouds of
snow; but they worked on, knowing only too well that in every barrel of
food they rolled into security was contained a week of life for them.
The driving snow made it more and more difficult to see, until the air
was almost dark. With fearful force the wind howled across the icy
expanse, and those on the pack crouched for some shelter behind the
stores they had piled up by the hummock, waiting till the gale should
have exhausted its fury.
The faint sound of a cry came to them from the direction of the ship and
they peered out through the gloom. Then a cry of despair broke from
their lips--they forgot the force of the wind and the cold of the
driving snow as they sprang from behind their shelter. The ice had
parted again, and, down the long lane of open water which had been
formed, the hull of the ship loomed as it swung away into the darkness.
Anxiously the castaways watched for the coming together again of the
divided packs, in the hope that the _Polaris_ would again be caught and
held. Those who remained on board were equally anxious, for they knew
the vessel must be leaking terribly, and to be left much longer in the
open water meant that she would founder and they be drowned. A man ran
to the rudder and tried to bring her round to the ice which glimmered
through the snow-storm, but the rudder was damaged too much for steering
and the ship drifted on. Soon it was obscured from those on the pack,
and the truth of their position dawned on them. Whether the ship had
foundered or not they did not know, but this was clear: they were adrift
on an ice-pack which might at any moment split asunder and precipitate
them into the freezing water, or, if it held together, carry them till
they died of cold and starvation.
Either alternative was sufficiently gloomy to depress the spirits of
the bravest; as the nineteen cowered behind their stack of provisions
for shelter from the keen snow-filled wind, into the mind of each there
came a grim determination to fight while there was an ounce of food in
the casks or a vestige of ice to float them. In the morning, when the
storm had abated and the air was clear, they emerged from their shelter
and looked about for a sign of the vessel. Some of them clambered up on
to the top of the highest hummocks so as to command a wider field of
vision, but they saw no more than those who remained below. All around
them was ice, piled in heaps, or stretching out in flat expanses; but
always ice, as far as the eye could reach, and nowhere a vestige or a
sign of the _Polaris_.
They gathered together round the heap of stores and looked at one
another in silence, each one reading the other's thoughts and always
finding them the same as his own. The ship had probably gone to the
bottom, with all on board, as soon as she broke away from the ice. The
packs had closed again over the spot where she had disappeared, so that
there was no chance of any spars or timber floating to the surface and
confirming their suspicions. Everything was under the ice, everything
except the scanty supply of provisions that had been put overboard.
At length one man spoke. It was no use mincing matters, he told his
comrades. They would do well to realise the position they were in, and,
looking at it from the worst side, make the best of it and fight to the
end. The vessel had gone, and all they had to keep them from starvation
and death was the heap of stores and their own energy. There was no
timber to build a raft, so that they could float if the ice broke up;
there was no wood to waste on a fire. But as they had to keep afloat and
warm if they were going to escape, he considered that first of all they
should remove their stores to the thickest, heaviest ice they could
find, and then set to work to build snow huts for shelter. Winter was
coming on with its long spell of darkness, and there was no time to
waste. It was every one's business to help one another and to do the
best they could, working together and sharing whatever came, whether it
was short rations or plenty.
The sentiments appealed to all the men, and they formed themselves into
parties to carry out the scheme. Fortunately they had just passed one
winter in the Arctic regions and knew, therefore, what was in front of
them, and also how to carry out the building of snow huts and the other
necessary makeshifts. A massive hummock, which apparently was too strong
to be crushed, and solid enough to last through several summers without
melting, was selected as the site of the encampment. The snow which had
fallen during the gale was not quite hard enough for building huts at
the moment, so while some of the party were overhauling the stores and
arranging to move them to the hummock, the others were clearing away
the snow from the site of the camp and banking it up all round as a
break-wind.
By the time the stores were placed in the enclosure, canvas shelters
were erected for a temporary covering, pending the time when the snow
became hard enough to cut for building blocks. It is only when the snow
has become compressed by its own weight and frozen nearly solid by the
cold that it can be cut into slabs or blocks for a hut. When it has
become hard enough, the blocks are cut and the building commences. First
a circle is laid, with a small space vacant where the doorway is to be.
On either side of this opening the blocks are laid so as to form the
plan of a porch, one side of which, in the present instance, was
continued at right angles so as turn the entrance passage towards the
stack of provisions and thus shelter the doorway from the wind. As soon
as the ground plan of the hut was laid, the surface of the blocks was
moistened and other blocks laid upon them, and so on until the walls
rose some five feet, the moisture making the blocks freeze hard to one
another. The layers were now gradually lapped over the interior until a
dome roof was formed. Both inside and outside were then moistened and
smoothed, and the cold air, freezing the moisture, glazed the entire
structure with a covering of ice.
All the clothing, bedding, and weapons were taken inside. A lamp was
constructed out of an empty preserved meat tin; it was filled with fat,
and, with a piece of twisted tow for a wick, it lit up the interior of
the hut and afforded some warmth as well. Heavy canvas curtains were
suspended across the opening out of the hut at the inner wall, at the
bend in the passage, and at the outer opening. Such of the packages of
stores as were suitable were also brought into the hut, and upon them
the blankets and furs were laid so as to make the sleeping places as
comfortable as possible. The quarters were thus as good as the men could
make them, but one anxiety still remained. The lamp would have to be
kept going all the twenty-four hours, and especially during the long
Arctic night; but the supply of fat was limited.
A hunting party was organised to search the pack for seals or walrus or
any animal from which blubber could be obtained. Here again the
experience of the previous winter and its hunting exploits served them.
A small opening in the pack was discovered a mile or so from the camp,
and on the ice around the water three seals were resting, having
evidently been caught in the ice when it closed. With great care the
hunters crept over the ice towards the animals, whose sacrifice meant so
much to the castaways. Only two had rifles, the others carrying harpoons
they had made from the tent-poles, and which were anything but reliable
weapons. Steady aim was taken by the two men who had the rifles at the
two larger of the seals. Firing together, one seal fell dead; the one
which was not aimed at plunged into the water, and the other, badly
wounded, hobbled to the edge of the ice. In another moment he would
have been over and probably have sunk to the bottom, had not one of the
men flung away his harpoon, and, springing forward, managed to seize the
hind flippers of the wounded creature. His comrades rushed to his
assistance and dragged both him and the seal back from the opening on to
the ice, where the latter was quickly despatched.
They were harnessing themselves to their victims in order to drag them
over to the camp, when a loud snort from the opening caused them to
start round just in time to see the third seal disappearing under the
water. At once they understood the situation. The opening was the only
one for miles, and the seal was compelled to come to the surface there
to breathe, as he could not reach the top anywhere else for the ice. It
was at once decided to wait for him, but as, if he were shot while in
the water, he would inevitably sink to the bottom and be lost to them,
they determined to lay a trap for him. The seals already killed were
placed in natural attitudes near the water, and the men hastily retired
to sheltering hummocks, to wait the return. The men with the rifles were
both to fire upon the seal as soon as he emerged on to the ice, for he
was too valuable to be lost. They had not waited very long before he
reappeared and, raising his head high out of the water, looked around.
Seeing nothing but the two seals on the ice, he swam leisurely round and
round the opening before scrambling up on to the ice. As he reached it
and moved towards his two companions, the men, who had been carefully
aiming at him, fired and killed him.
With the three seals, the party returned to the camp in high spirits,
their arrival being the signal for general rejoicing, for not only would
the blubber of the seals keep the lamp supplied with oil, but their
skins were very welcome additions to the stock of warm coverings, and
the meat was an invaluable addition to the larder.
Really it was more, but of that they were not aware until two days
later, when one of the men was awakened by the short barking roar of a
bear. He quickly roused his companions and they made their way out of
the hut with what weapons they possessed.
The flesh of the seals had been suspended on a line between two poles
near the other provisions so as to protect it from any chance visit by
wolves or bears. As the first man peered out from the hut opening, he
saw, in the dim twilight, two bears standing underneath the line of
meat, sniffing up at it and growling. They had, it was afterwards
learned, picked up the trail where the dead seals had been dragged from
the opening in the ice, and had followed it to the camp.
[Illustration: AN ADDITION TO THE EXPLORERS' SUPPLY OF PROVISIONS.]
The man whispered back to his companions what he saw, and another man,
armed with a rifle, crept to his side. Aiming together behind the
shoulder of the larger of the bears, they fired simultaneously and
brought their quarry down. Immediately the other bear turned towards the
opening and, with snarling teeth, advanced. A third rifle was fired
point-blank at its head, but the bullet failed to penetrate the massive
skull, though it made the beast change its direction. As it turned away
the men realised what its escape would mean to them. There was a rush
after it, the men loading and firing as quickly as they could load, so
as to secure it before it disappeared in the dim grey twilight. It fell
wounded, and was despatched by means of the impromptu spears.
This adventure not only made a notable break in the monotony of the life
on the pack, but gave the men a subject for conversation during the long
weary period of darkness, as well as increasing their store of fat,
fresh meat, and warm covering. No further animals were seen or heard,
although every one was constantly on the alert, and the opening where
the seals were killed was visited daily until it froze over. Then the
last vestige of twilight vanished and darkness settled down upon the
ice.
For eighty-three days the sun was absent, and during that time the cold
was intense. The lamp was the only means of artificial heat they
possessed, and even of that they had to be careful, for the supply of
fat was not inexhaustible, and no one knew when it could be replenished.
In the coldest weather the men huddled together under their blankets and
furs, anxious and weary. They had no means of finding out in what
direction they were moving, for the constant creaking of the floe led
them to believe that they were drifting somewhere. Whether it was to the
North or to the South they could not tell, and yet upon the direction in
which they were moving their salvation depended.
Never, perhaps, was the return of the sun more welcomed than by the
desolate castaways on the floe. But its appearance and the commencement
of spring was not entirely an unmixed blessing. The rising temperature
naturally caused the ice to break up, and as the floe upon which they
were marooned gradually decreased in size, fresh anxiety was caused to
them by the possible danger of their haven being broken up. As the days
passed, they saw their food supply growing smaller and smaller, until
starvation stared them in the face, and hope was almost dead. April
came, and with it all the privation and suffering consequent upon
insufficient food and wearying, helpless, and almost hopeless,
inactivity. The last day of the month arrived and found them with the
last morsel of food consumed. A man clambered to the summit of the
hummock in the hopes of seeing a seal somewhere on the ice. His comrades
thought that he had lost his senses when he shouted wildly and,
clambering down, ran towards them, dancing and shouting.
Over the top of the hummock he had caught sight of a ship, and the
excitement caused by his news was soon eclipsed as the castaways saw the
signals they made answered from the vessel. Boats put off for them and
took them on board the ship, which was the _Tigress_, a sealer from
Labrador.
They found that in the 196 days they had spent on the floe they had
drifted over 1500 miles from the latitude in which the _Polaris_ was
beset on October 12. For the time they believed they were the only
survivors of the expedition, but in this they were wrong. The remainder
of the party also escaped, though without undergoing quite the same
hardships as themselves.
When the _Polaris_ broke away from the ice, she did not sink, but
drifted rapidly before the gale through the open channel. Captain
Budington, who had assumed command when Captain Hall died, and the
twelve men who remained on board, managed to keep the disabled vessel
afloat, but they could do no more until she again became involved in the
ice. By that time all hopes of returning to the place where the other
men were on the ice was abandoned, and, as the water was fairly open,
the efforts of the crew were mainly directed to warping the ship towards
the coast. By good fortune she managed to escape from the crushing
packs, and, with tireless effort and great care, she was at length
brought within sight of land. Then she was caught in the ice along the
shore and so severely nipped that her ruin was complete. She, however,
did not sink, and her crew were able to reach the land.
Selecting a site for an encampment, they removed thither enough timber
from the broken-up vessel to construct a house, to which they also
removed enough stores to last them. When these necessaries were secured,
they brought more timber ashore, and, during the long winter night, they
employed themselves in constructing a couple of boats. It was a
laborious task, and but slow progress was made until daylight returned.
Then they were able to carry on the work faster; but it was the middle
of May before they had them finished and seaworthy.
As soon as the ice began to break up, they launched the boats, which
were fully provisioned from the wreck, and on June 3 they sailed away to
the South. Three weeks later they sighted a whaler, the _Ravenscraig_,
who took them aboard, and within a few months of their comrades, whom
they thought had all perished, landing in America from the _Tigress_,
the boat party also landed, having saved, in addition to themselves, all
the records of the surveys and observations made by the expedition.
These were of great geographical value, making known much of the
neighbourhood of the straits between Greenland and Grant's Land. The
expedition, although attaining to a high latitude, did not succeed in
reaching the Pole, but their adventures made a fascinating chapter in
the history of Polar research.
CHAPTER V
THE _ALERT_ AND _DISCOVERY_
Sir George Nares appointed to the _Alert_ and
_Discovery_--Overtaking a Season--Red Snow--The Greenland
Mosquito--Peculiarities of Eskimo Dogs--And Dog Whips--Dangers of
Kayaks--Advantages of Steam for Polar Regions--An Unpleasant
Experience--A Huge Walrus--Arctic Scenery--A Big "Bag"--The Ships
part Company--The _Alert_ reaches the Polar Sea--Winter
Quarters--The North Pole attempted--Adventures and Sufferings of
the Party--Lieutenant Parr's Heroism--Deliverance--The Greenland
Attempt--Scurvy and Snow--Repulse Bay--In Pitiable
Plight--Lieutenant Rawson to the Rescue.
"Her Majesty's Government, having determined that an expedition of
Arctic exploration and discovery should be undertaken, My Lords
Commissioners of the Admiralty have been pleased to select you for the
command of the said expedition, the scope and primary object of which
should be to attain the highest northern latitude and, if possible, to
reach the North Pole."
Such was the opening sentence of the official instructions sent to Sir
George Nares to take command of the _Alert_ and _Discovery_, two steam
vessels, which constituted the first expedition the British Government
had sent to the Arctic regions since the search parties for Sir John
Franklin. It was confidently expected that the introduction of the
screw steamer into Arctic navigation would result in startling
achievements, and those expectations were fully justified.
The two ships, with H.M.S. _Valorous_ in consort with provisions, &c.,
on board, left Portsmouth on May 29, 1875. They were home again by
November 2, 1876, and during the intervening eighteen months they had
reached the most northerly point attained by man up to that period, and
only since exceeded, on the sea, by the _Fram_.
No greater contrast can be given of the enormous strides which had been
made in navigation during the thirty years which had elapsed since
Franklin sailed away on his last and fatal voyage, than the fact that
whereas after six weeks' journeying Franklin had barely reached the
region of drift ice, in six weeks from the date of leaving Portsmouth
the _Alert_ and _Discovery_ were almost in the region of perpetual ice.
And all owing to the application of steam to ocean travelling.
The route laid down for the expedition was along the western coast of
Greenland and as far through Robeson Channel, which divides Grinnel Land
from Greenland, as it was possible to get. Disko Bay, half-way up the
Greenland coast, was the spot where the _Alert_ and _Discovery_ were to
part company with the _Valorous_. They entered the Bay on July 4, having
had, on the voyage to the North, the peculiar experience of chasing and
overtaking a season. When they left Portsmouth at the end of May,
summer was well in; but when they arrived at Disko Bay they found that
the mild weather which forms the spring had not yet set in sufficiently
to melt all the winter's snows. So that they had travelled quicker than
the summer, having started after it had begun in England, and arrived in
Greenland before it was due.
The early spring flowers were just commencing to bloom on the slopes
around Disko, wherever the snow had melted, while higher up on the
hills, where the winter's snow still lay, the explorers had an
opportunity of looking upon that curious phenomenon, red snow. A minute
animalcule (_Protococcus nivalis_) generates in the frozen covering of
the earth, and increases so rapidly and in such vast numbers that it
gives to its cold white habitat the hue of its own microscopic body.
Another minute creature also breeds in enormous numbers in these bleak
regions, the mosquito, which one usually associates with dense tropical
jungles and fever-breeding swamps. All along the Greenland coast,
wherever there is a pool of fresh water which thaws from the ice-grip,
the larvae of the mosquito appear in swarms in the spring, and, very
shortly after, the full-fledged insect emerges in the utmost vigour of
irritating stinging life. As the time is short between the period when
the ice melts and when the water freezes again, the Greenland mosquito
has to be active to work out his life mission before he is frozen off,
and the skin of all visitors to his locality gives ample evidence how
well he utilises his opportunities.
In addition to taking on board the surplus stores from the _Valorous_,
the two Arctic ships also took on board teams of dogs for sledging
purposes. Fifty-five in all were shipped, their quarters being situated
on the main deck, where they were necessarily cramped for room, and,
what was worse from their point of view, were unable to get at one
another's throats owing to their being chained to bolts. Consequently
they kept up a constant chorus of snarls and yaps, varied now and again
with a howl as one or another received a remonstrating kick from a
sailor.
This interminable uproar was explained by the Eskimo dog driver, who was
also taken on board, as being due to the fact that most of the dogs were
strangers to one another, and no one was as yet the properly constituted
king.
When Captain McClintock purchased a team of dogs from the Eskimo of King
William's Land, he had a good deal to learn about their peculiarities;
but the people on the _Alert_ and the _Discovery_, having a great many
more dogs than he was able to obtain, had also a great deal more to
learn about them. Sir George Nares, in his account of the expedition,
gives some particulars which were furnished by his Eskimo dog driver,
and these show that the sledge dog is quite as wise as one might expect
from Captain McClintock's experiences.
In every team of dogs, one is the king. He holds that position by
prowess only, and has to fight and thrash every other dog in the team
before he can assume the leadership. When he has once assumed it, he has
to keep it by the same means; for revolutions may at any moment occur,
through some younger dog aspiring to the ruling position. But while a
dog has the position of authority, he exercises his rights with
decision, and the remainder of the team cluster round him and support
him in emergencies, or lie at his feet in times of leisure. The only one
who is allowed to snarl at him without at once being bitten is the
queen. She is among her sex what the king is among his; for though she
depends more upon him for her prominent position than to her own
fighting qualities, she maintains it, when once obtained, by a free use
of her jaws upon encroachers.
Consequently, when a number of teams were brought together on the decks
of the vessels, all strangers to one another, there was a tremendous
amount of fighting in prospect before peace could be granted. Firstly,
the kings of the various teams were anxious to tussle for the supremacy;
and with the prospect of some of them getting badly mauled, there were
several inferiors in each team ready to do battle with their injured
monarch, and, when he was disposed of, with one another, for the
leadership. But their new masters, instead of letting them all loose to
settle their various degrees of authority in their own hereditary
fashion, tied them up where they could see and hear one another without
exchanging a bite. The kings, naturally warlike and ferocious, could
only snap at their inferiors as they bayed in their rage, and the
inferiors could only bay in their pain, and so between them the ship's
company were kept awake by night and annoyed by day.
When at length opportunity occurred for liberating the dogs and giving
them some exercise over the ice, great care had to be taken so as to
prevent a wholesale melee. Each team, as they were freed from their deck
chains, were led on to the ice and made fast to a sledge, two men being
in charge of each sledge for the purpose of learning how to drive. And a
highly exciting time they had of it, for not only did every dog want to
start in its own direction as soon as they were harnessed, but every
team wanted to attack every other team directly they appeared.
Nor were the troubles of the drivers limited to the dogs. The whip which
is used for sledge teams consists of a very short handle and a very long
lash. In the hands of an expert it is a most effective weapon, being
capable of producing a resounding crack or a stinging blow wherever the
wielder desires. But in the hands of a novice it is, like the Australian
stock-whip, prone to do everything that the wielder does not wish. The
amateur driver of a team, growing impatient as his dogs set off at full
speed in various directions, and, besides tangling the harness, upset
the sledge and themselves and very nearly himself as well, lashed out
viciously at the worst offender; but the lash, instead of bringing the
creature to his senses, curled back and hit the striker across the face,
or twined round the legs of his companion, with disastrous results.
Meanwhile the Eskimo driver was going from one group to another, trying
to explain the mysteries of the art, much to the amusement of the
onlookers and the indignation of the inexperienced amateurs.
During the wait at Disko, another form of Arctic travelling was
practised by the officers of the expedition. This was the use of the
Eskimo kayak.
The kayak is a long narrow canoe, entirely covered in with a waterproof
covering. The voyager sits in the middle in a small round hole, the
covering lapping over the edges and being fastened round the waist. The
kayak is thus made as buoyant as a life-belt, whether floating on an
even keel or upside down. By reason of their build, they are peculiarly
"cranky" craft, turning over at the least provocation, and so require
extremely careful handling, unless one is an adept at swimming and
diving. The experience of one of the officers made this clear. He had
securely strapped himself in, when, by a false stroke of the paddle, he
overturned the kayak. He could not get it back again and was unable to
loosen the cover; there was only one way of escape, and that possible
alone to a man familiar with being under water. Loosening his clothes,
he wriggled out of them and came to the surface just in time to avoid
drowning.
Having taken on board all the stores that the _Valorous_ carried, as
well as a full supply of coal, the _Alert_ and the _Discovery_ started
in company for the North. The advantages of steam navigation were made
even more apparent as they proceeded, for the ships were able to steam
through ice-encumbered water which would have been quite impassable for
sailing vessels. Depending so much upon the wind, a sailing vessel is
only able to make headway amongst heavy drifting floes by means of long
hawsers, run out and made fast to a mass of ice and then slowly hauled
in at the capstan. Steamers, on the other hand, experience no difficulty
in forcing their way past and between the lesser floes, and Sir George
Nares, who had had a great deal of experience of sailing vessels in the
ice regions, was frequently astounded at the ease with which the two
steamers rammed their way, clearing from out of their course lumps of
ice which would have been difficult obstacles to a sailing ship.
Those on board, however, were not to escape without some experience of
the peculiarities of ice movements. The vessels were going to make fast
for the night, and a boat's crew was sent from the _Alert_ to carry an
anchor to a large, heavy mass not far distant. On near approach it was
seen that the lump was very rotten, and, as no hold for the anchor
could be found near the water-line, one of the men volunteered to
clamber up to the top and, with an ice chisel, make a hold for it. He
clambered on to the slippery, treacherous mass, and, after a great deal
of very careful exertion, succeeded in reaching a point high enough for
his purpose. He began lustily to drive in the chisel, but so rotten was
the ice, that instead of merely chipping out a crevice, he cracked the
top of the lump. Another blow, and, to his intense amazement, a huge
mass in front of him slid away. Gliding down the side, fortunately away
from the boat, it splashed into the sea. But the removal of so much from
the top of the berg upset its balance, with the result that it swayed
from one side to the other as it recovered its equilibrium. The
unfortunate sailor, with nothing to cling to, had to scramble up and
over the summit as the berg dipped down; but no sooner was he over the
top than the berg swung the other way, and he had to scramble back
again. There was no means of escape until the berg settled down once
more, and in the meantime his companions in the boat and on the steamer
were shouting with laughter at the antics of what they called their
squirrel on the iceberg.
While he was in his lofty if unsteady position, however, he noticed on a
floe not far distant three walrus, and as soon as he returned to the
ship and reported his discovery, a boat with a harpoon and two rifles
was despatched. The three animals lay contentedly enough on the ice,
paying scarcely any heed to the advancing boat, with the result that all
were hit. The two that were shot slid off into the water and sank, but
the one that was harpooned could not escape. He was an immense creature,
measuring over twelve feet in length and eleven feet round the thickest
part; his tusks were over eighteen inches long, and, when cut up, he
yielded five casks of meat, weighing 1250 lbs.
As the two vessels advanced farther to the North they found that the
character of the ice was very different from that met with in the
neighbourhood of Baffin's Bay and Lancaster Sound. It was more massive
and heavy, a berg they passed towering nearly 300 feet above the
water-line, and floes frequently occurring some miles in length and
standing 50 feet out of the water. The possibility of being caught
between such masses and "nipped" was a constant danger, for no vessel
could possibly withstand the tremendous pressure exerted by two floes of
that size colliding. A constant look-out had to be maintained from the
crow's-nest for any sign ahead of the floes closing in, and by careful
navigation anything like a severe "nip" was avoided.
By August 24 they had made such excellent progress as to be nearly at
the end of the hitherto explored channel. A southerly wind was helping
them along, but about four in the afternoon it began to die away. They
were then in Bessel Bay, and in order to see how the ice was ahead, Sir
George Nares decided to land and climb to the top of Cape Morton, which
is some 2000 feet in height. From the summit a magnificent view was
obtained, of which the following description is given by Sir George
Nares in his account of the expedition:--
"It was a beautiful morning, with scarcely a cloud in the sky. The cold,
sharp wind which had benumbed us at the sea-level was local, for, on the
summit of the cape, it was perfectly calm. Sixty miles distant in the
south-west were the Victoria and Albert mountains of Grinnel Land,
fronted by Hans Island showing clear of Cape Bryan, which had Hannah
Island nestling at its base. Farther north was an elevated spur from the
main range which, rising between Archer Fjord and Kennedy Channel,
formed Daly Promontory. Fronting these mountains, and directly separated
from them by an extensive valley extending to the northward from Carl
Ritter Bay, was the black buttress-shaped cliff forming Cape Back, the
southern extremity of the nearly straight running line of flat-topped
coast hills extending twenty miles to Cape Defosse. From that point the
coast line became more hilly, and, joining the Daly mountains, extended
to Cape Lieber, a bluff headland, with Cape Baird, a low, flat point,
jutting out beyond it. Still farther north were the lofty mountains of
Grant's Land with steep cliffs about Cape Union, though seventy miles
distant distinctly visible, forming the western extremity of Robeson
Channel. Nearly due north a slight break in the continuity of the land
showed where Robeson Channel opened into the Polar Sea. On the eastern
side of the strait, at a distance of forty miles, was Cape Lupton, the
notable landmark denominated Polaris Promontory; then came Polaris Bay
with the low plains leading to Newman Bay. At my feet lay Cape Tyson and
Cape Mary Cleverly on the north shore of Petermann Fjord, rising to an
elevation of 1500 feet."
In this district, picturesque and beautiful as portrayed by the
explorer's description, the _Discovery_ wintered, while the _Alert_ went
on farther North. The spot where the _Discovery_ was left, and which was
named Discovery Bay, was a large, well-protected inlet inside an island,
the outer point of which formed Cape Bellot. In the summer it was
sparsely covered with loose ice, but in the winter, sea, hills, cape,
and plains were all covered in the one white garb. As the two vessels
entered the bay early on the morning of August 25, what at first were
taken to be nine boulders were observed on the shore; but as the vessels
swung to their anchors, the boulders were observed to move away. At once
the cry of "musk oxen" was raised, and boats were hastily lowered,
filled with sportsmen keen for the chase. The oxen, disturbed by the
noise, made for the higher ground, where they were followed by the
enthusiastic shooting party until every one of the nine was brought to
the ground.
The following day, August 26, the ships parted company, the _Alert_
taking with her an officer and a sledge team of men from the
_Discovery_, with the idea of sending them back overland when winter
quarters were selected, an idea which had to be abandoned by reason of
the impassable nature of the country. On the last day of the month the
_Alert_ met a particularly heavy floe, the ice forming it being of the
massive character which denoted that its origin was the Polar Sea. Once
the grinding mass of hummocks, rising higher than the vessel's decks,
threatened to catch her. There would have been no hope of escape if they
had, and only by persistently ramming her way through some of the looser
ice did she escape in towards the shore. Next day a strong gale sprang
up from the south-west, and the _Alert_ went along at ten miles an hour
in an open channel between the land and the heavy pack which was
drifting about three miles out. By midday they reached latitude 82 deg. 24'
N., and the flags were run up to the mastheads amid general rejoicing,
for it was the farthest point North to which a ship had yet sailed.
With the channel showing clear ahead of them and the spanking breeze
astern, expectation was high on board that they would be able to sail
right up to latitude 84 deg., but within an hour their hopes were suddenly
and thoroughly checked. On hauling to the westward they rounded a
promontory and found that the land trended away to the west. The wind
veered round to the north-west and drove the ice in upon the channel,
which gradually became narrower until, when off Cape Sheridan, the main
pack was observed to be touching the grounded ice and effectually
barring all further progress. The _Alert_ was run close up to the end of
the channel, and then, when it was certain that there was no chance of
getting through the barrier, she was anchored to a floe which rested
aground off the cape. The next day, as the heavy ice of the pack was
grinding against the stranded floe, and an opening just large enough for
the vessel to get in was observed in the floe, she was warped into the
basin.
She was barely inside when a solid hummock crushed against the opening,
forming a great barrier between the vessel and the outer moving pack.
Had it struck there a few minutes earlier the vessel would have been
severely injured by the "nip," but as it was the hummock formed an
admirable shelter from the pressure of the pack. This was often so
severe that masses over 30,000 tons in weight were broken off and forced
up the inclined shore, rising twelve and fourteen feet higher out of the
water as they crunched along the ground.
On September 4 new ice formed on the water in which the ship was
floating, and from observations taken from high land inshore all doubt
was removed as to where they were. They had navigated to the end of
Robeson Channel and were now in the Polar Sea. No land could be seen to
the north; nothing but a vast wilderness of huge masses of Polar ice,
most of which had evidently been frozen for years. At midnight on the
same day they saw the last of the sun as it sank below the northern
horizon.
Winter was now upon them, and they set to work to make their quarters as
comfortable as possible. Snow came down heavily for some days, but not
for a week or so was it hard enough to cut into the blocks suitable for
building snow houses. When these were built, stores were removed to them
and observatories fitted up for recording the various conditions of the
atmosphere. On September 14 a severe gale sprang up, which caused the
ice to move so much that the thin new ice in the basin was broken up and
a boat's crew were drifted away on to a floe-berg 200 yards from the
ship, from whence they were only rescued after great difficulty and in a
half-frozen condition.
Some days subsequently, while a sledge party was on shore, one man was
badly frost-bitten. He did not know it until some time after, but he had
tried to thaw his frozen foot-wraps in his sleeping-bag instead of first
removing them. The loss of feeling and then of use in his legs crippled
him, and when he was brought on board it was seen what was wrong. This
is one of the several evils men have to carefully guard against in the
excessive cold. So long as they experience the stinging sensation of
cold, they are free from a frost-bite; but a man may have his face
bitten and not realise it until he is told that he has turned dead
white. Circulation has then been arrested, and immediate steps have to
be taken to bring it back, or the flesh becomes dead.
The dogs also began to suffer from a disease which sent them into fits,
and which puzzled the Eskimo driver and the doctors. Some of them
wandered away over the ice and others died, until only fifteen remained
out of thirty, and many of those were thin and weakly. Then, as the cold
increased, ice formed in the chimneys, and damp settled on the beams and
walls between decks every time the cold air was admitted, so that it had
to be constantly sponged up, while the officers had to spread waterproof
coverings over their beds to protect themselves from it when they slept.
On November 8 it was so dark at midday that a newspaper could not be
read, nor could a man be distinguished a dozen yards away. For
eighty-seven days more the sun would be absent, but the moon visited the
dark, cold skies, appearing for ten days without setting, and then going
out of sight for thirteen. On November 13 the cold was so intense that
the mercury froze in the thermometer.
But if it was dark and cold outside, the ship's company made themselves
comfortable. A school was started, a theatre was opened--the Royal
Arctic--and every Thursday they had popular concerts. Exercise was daily
taken and the general health was excellent, only one man being on the
sick-list, and he from a constitutional cause. The men were warmly clad
when "between decks," as the temperature there was never what one might
term hot; but before going outside they had to wrap themselves up in a
variety of thick heavy fur garments, for there was often a difference of
nearly one hundred degrees to be experienced.
The long stretch of winter's darkness was varied by the appearance, from
time to time, of the aurora. This was the phenomenon which so greatly
puzzled, and not infrequently terrified, the early explorers. Assuming a
variety of forms, sometimes like the fringe of a vast curtain hanging in
the sky, at others appearing as bands and streaks of light, waving and
flickering over the heavens, but always with this peculiarity, that
however bright they appeared, no light was given to the surrounding
atmosphere, they were a source of constant interest to the men.
And so the winter passed, not entirely without its pleasures, in spite
of the prolonged darkness. With the beginning of spring active
preparations were made for the sledging trips, which were to carry out
the work of surveying the surrounding land and penetrating farther to
the North than it was possible for the vessels to go. The great majority
of the officers and men on the _Alert_ were told off for these
expeditions, six officers and six men remaining on board, while
fifty-three were split up into two parties, one to survey the coast of
Grant's Land, and the other, under Commander Markham and Lieutenant
Parr, to go North--to the Pole if possible.
The day the start was made the two parties were drawn up in line
alongside the ship, and the chaplain read prayers, after which, with
cheers for one another and the men left behind, they started.
Both did good service, the survey party carrying the survey round the
coast well on to the western side. The North Pole party pressed on in
the face of terrible difficulties until they reached the farthest point
North that had yet been recorded.
In addition to the sledges laden with stores, they dragged with them two
whale-boats in case they should meet with open water. But there was no
sign of it as far as they went. On the contrary, their route lay over
such excessively rough ice that although they travelled as a rule about
ten miles a day, so much of it was spent in getting round inaccessible
hummocks, that the actual progress towards the North rarely exceeded one
mile a day.
When on April 11 they bade their comrades farewell, they had provisions
for seventy days, and all were in good health and spirits. The work of
dragging the boats and sledges up and down the great masses of rugged
ice which covered the Polar Sea was terribly trying, however, and by the
time the ten miles were covered every one was ready to creep into the
sleeping-bags and rest. As the sun began to rise above the horizon it
made the snow and ice sparkle and glitter so much that their eyes,
accustomed for so long to darkness, could not stand it. Goggles had to
be worn to protect the sight, but before they were adopted by all the
members several were affected, and Lieutenant Parr for some days
suffered from snow-blindness, an affliction which fortunately passed
away in time.
As the days went by, the toil of dragging the sledges over the
interminable and monotonous ice became more and more wearying. There was
no variety in the work, no change in the surroundings; and although the
men stuck at their task with true British obstinacy, it began to tell
upon them. One man fell sick, growing weaker and weaker until he was no
longer able to pull, and then was unable to walk. One of the boats was
abandoned, and the sick man laid on a sledge. His condition was more
than disquieting to the leaders, for it was evident he was suffering
from scurvy, and no one could say who would be the next to develop it.
On April 23 they only added a mile and a quarter to their distance, for
they had come upon clumps of ice hummocks which made their progress so
difficult that they had to combine forces to haul first one sledge and
then another over the obstacles. On April 28, when they were seventeen
miles from the shore, they found the track of a hare in the snow, going
towards the land, but with the footprints so close together that the
animal was evidently very weak. Where it had come from, or how it had
got so far from the shore, were riddles they could not solve.
As May came in signs of scurvy made themselves only too evident among
the members of the crew, and on May 11 the leaders decided that the next
day they would have to turn to the south once more. They started with a
light sledge in the morning and pushed on till noon, when they took
their bearings. They had reached latitude 83 deg. 20' 26" N., and were then
only 3991/2 miles from the Pole itself, having beaten all other records of
Arctic explorations.
The little band, weary and sickening, forgot their woes in the presence
of their achievement. A jorum of whisky had been presented to the
expedition by the Dean of Dundee on condition that it was opened in the
highest latitude reached. It was now produced, and the success of their
efforts was toasted, the while each man smoked a cigar, also sent for
consumption in the "farthest North."
A hole was cut in the ice and soundings were taken, the sea being
seventy-two fathoms (432 feet) deep below them, with a clay bottom, the
surface temperature being 28.5 deg. and the temperature at the bottom 28.8 deg..
Then they turned their backs upon the cold, bleak, ice-bound North, and
began the journey home again, a journey which was to prove more trying
than that which they had already accomplished.
The man who had first sickened, and whose name was Porter, had become so
weak that he could not move from the sledge on which he lay wrapped in
a sleeping-bag. Gradually one man after another began to lose his
strength, until three or four were only able to support themselves, and
could give no assistance in hauling the sledges, with the result that
the labour pressed all the more heavily on the remainder of the party,
all of whom were more or less affected by scurvy. The first fortnight of
the return journey was a terribly wearying time to the leaders, for they
saw their men becoming weaker every day, so that the progress was slower
and more difficult, while at the same time the only hope of escape was
to reach land. On the coast it would be possible for relief to meet
them, but out amongst the rugged hummocks of the Polar Sea the whole
ship's company would not be able to find them. The extra work thrown
upon those who were not entirely incapacitated told severely upon their
already enfeebled systems. The toil no longer encouraged their
appetites; instead, the sight of food became nauseous to them, until
towards the end of the month half a pannikin of pemmican was more than
each man could manage to eat. But the toil was still as weary, and the
cold as intense, and without sufficient food to keep up their strength,
the outlook was almost hopeless.
Still, however, the little band of seventeen struggled on, setting an
example of courage, determination, and absolute devotion to discipline
and duty which has won for them as deep an admiration as their
achievement of the "farthest North" record. On June 2 only six men and
the two officers were able to do anything in the way of labour. Five men
lay sick and helpless on the already laden sledges, and four more were
just able to stagger along from point to point after the dreary
procession of sledges. The progress was very slow now, as it required
all the strength which was left in the eight, who alone were able to do
anything, to move one sledge at a time. The second boat had been
abandoned, as it could not be dragged farther, and the strain of moving
the three sledges that remained was so great that when, on June 5, land
was reached after an absence of two months, the entire party was in a
state of collapse.
The next day they rested and debated what was the best course to adopt
to obtain help, for it was outside of their power to drag the sledges
any farther. Porter was almost at death's door, and unless help came
very soon several more would be in a similar condition. Lieutenant Parr
was the strongest, but even he was in a very low condition. That,
however, did not rob him of his courage, nor of his readiness to give
the rest of his life, if necessary, for the rescue of his comrades.
He volunteered to set out alone for the ship, to carry word of the
terrible plight of the party and the need for instant relief. It was
almost a hopeless task, and the heavy hearts of the stricken men,
beating more hopefully at the token of such manly bravery, drooped again
as they remembered the dreary miles of snow and ice which would have to
be covered, and saw the weakened state of their would-be rescuer's
strength. But he was not to be gainsaid; weak as he was, he was yet the
strongest of the party, and he would make the attempt.
On June 7 he started, the little band watching him as he trudged bravely
away, giving him as hearty a cheer as they could. Slowly he made his way
over the frozen shore, and, when he had passed out of sight, the men
looked at one another and wondered. How far would he get before death
overtook him? How long before they all yielded to the same conqueror?
By the next morning one had already gone, Porter passing away after
nearly two months' fighting against the scourge. Commander Markham, and
the four who were alone able to help him, paid the last honours to their
deceased comrade. The British ensign was lowered to half-mast on the
pole of the big sledge and a Union Jack was carefully wrapped round the
body. With great exertion, in their emaciated condition, a place was
hollowed out in the frozen soil, and there they placed him, the funeral
service being read by Commander Markham, who, in his diary, thus wrote
of the ceremony: "Of all the melancholy and mournful duties I have ever
been called upon to perform, this has been the saddest. A death in a
small party like ours, and under the present circumstances, is a most
depressing event, and is keenly felt by all. During the service all
were more or less affected, and many to tears."
A rude cross was fashioned out of a boat's oar and a spare sledge
batten, and it was placed at the head of the grave with the following
inscription: "Beneath this cross lie buried the remains of GEORGE
PORTER, R.M.A., who died June 8, 1876. 'Thy will be done!'"
Anxiously they waited during the rest of the day, wondering as to the
fate of Lieutenant Parr, and half expecting to see him stagger back to
the camp, his splendid courage overcome by the difficulties of his
journey. But he did not return, and the men crept into their
sleeping-bags under the tents scarcely daring to think what the morrow
would bring forth. One or two of the sick men were visibly worse since
the death of Porter, and the next day might mean the end of their lives.
If their gallant rescuer managed to make his way at all, he could not
reach the ship in time for relief to come for another day or two, and no
man dared to speak of what might occur in that interval.
The shouts of men's voices while they were yet within their
sleeping-bags on the morning of June 9 were so unexpected, that, at
first, those who heard them blamed their ears for playing them false.
But it was no deception. Lieutenant Parr, with a magnificent heroism
that deserves honour even among the many brave deeds which British
sailors have performed, struggled on after leaving the camp without a
stop until he came in sight of the _Alert_. Directly he was discovered
he told of his comrades waiting helpless and sick. Relief parties were
formed on the moment, and two officers, Lieutenants May and Moss, with a
dog-team sledge laden with lime-juice and restoratives, started away
while the other sledges were loading.
They pressed on without a halt until they saw the tents of the camp,
when they shouted, as no one was to be seen about the place. They were
up to the tents before any one came out, and when they did it was as
though new life had been given to each man. The lime-juice, of which
they were in such dire want--for by an oversight it had been omitted
from the stores--was at once served round, giving fresh energy to those
who were still able to move about, and greatly relieving those who were
incapacitated.
On the arrival of the remainder of the relief party, the invalids were
all removed to the ship and attended to, every man recovering, under
medical treatment, before the _Alert_ weighed anchor for the South. This
was done in August, when she rejoined the _Discovery_, the officers of
which had also done splendid service in surveying the interior of
Grinnel Land, behind Discovery Bay, and also along the northern coast of
Greenland.
While the _Discovery_ was lying in her winter quarters a successful
attempt was made by Lieutenant Beaumont, accompanied by Dr. Coppinger
and sixteen men, dragging two sledges, to communicate with the _Alert_.
They started away on April 6, while the cold was still nearly 70 deg. below
zero, a temperature which made sleeping almost impossible, as they had
constantly to exercise to maintain their bodily heat. In spite of these
drawbacks, however, the _Alert_ was reached.
The intention was to continue the journey across Robeson Channel over to
Greenland, and to explore as much of the northern coast as was possible.
Reinforced by Lieutenant Rawson and five men, the party started on April
20, from the _Alert_, with four sledges and provisions for fifty-six
days. As they approached the Greenland coast the ice was very rough and
tumbled about in irregular blocks, with heavy snow lying ankle deep.
Arriving at Polaris Bay, a depot of stores was made and a detachment
left in charge, the journey then being resumed; but the ice became more
and more difficult, and the snow deeper. The strength of the whole party
was taxed to the utmost to make any progress, and at the end of each
day's work every one was wearied out with fatigue. Falls were frequent,
owing to the unevenness of the ice, and one man, Hand, was particularly
unfortunate in this respect. By the time that Cape Stanton was reached
he was suffering considerably from stiffness, which was at first
attributed to his tumbles; but when pain began to be manifest in his
legs and gums, the truth of the matter became evident. He was affected
with scurvy.
This discovery was made on May 10, and the leader at once decided to
send him back to Polaris Bay with Lieutenant Rawson and six men. The
remainder of the men were asked to say whether they fancied they were
affected; but all maintained the contrary, and asked to be allowed to
continue the journey.
With six men Lieutenant Beaumont continued the route to the North, while
Lieutenant Rawson returned to the depot at Polaris Bay. On his way other
members of his party developed scurvy, and their plight was so
distressful that for some days before they reached the depot, which they
did on June 3, Lieutenant Rawson and one man alone were able to drag the
sledge, the former being so severely afflicted with snow-blindness that
he had to walk for days with his eyes covered by a bandage. Hand, the
first man affected, died as the sledge came within sight of the camp.
In the meantime Lieutenant Beaumont's party pushed on, difficulties
increasing with every mile. The snow became deeper as they advanced,
until they sank at every step over their knees. Describing it, the
leader said: "The hard crust on the top would only just _not_ bear you,
while the depth prevented you from pushing forward through it, each leg
sinking to about three inches above the knee, and the effort of lifting
them so high as to extricate them from the deep footholes soon began to
tell upon the men." The sun shining on the snow seemed to be unusually
warm, while the exertion made them intensely thirsty, besides so
exhausting them that they had to stop every fifty yards to rest and
recover their breath. They were crossing a wide bay at the time,
striving to reach the other shore, which did not seem to be more than a
mile away. But the clearness of the atmosphere was very deceiving as to
distance, for they struggled on for two days and still the coast only
seemed to be a mile distant.
In order to make the way easier the men were marched four abreast, the
sledge being left until a road was forced through the snow. For five
miles the march was continued, and at the end of that distance the coast
did not appear a yard nearer.
Sending the men back to the sledge with orders to rest till he rejoined
them, Lieutenant Beaumont and one man went forward. But after some hours
of trying effort they did not reach the coast, and were compelled to
turn back, having been able to observe that the shore was composed of
great towering cliffs with the snow piled up at the base. When they
returned to the spot where the sledge had been left, they were
thoroughly worn out by their exertions. As comfortable an encampment as
could be arranged was made, and for two days the party remained resting.
Symptoms of scurvy were making themselves apparent among the men under
the fatigue brought on by their excessive toil; but no word of
complaint was spoken, every man being ready and willing to do his duty.
In the retreat of Commander Markham and his men from the "farthest
North," a splendid example of British heroism and discipline was given.
The story of Lieutenant Beaumont's party furnishes another.
The growing sickness of some of the men and the decreasing store of
provisions brought home to the leader the necessity of a return being
made. At the end of the two days' rest the sledge was turned in the
direction of Polaris Bay and the men retraced their steps, finding the
travelling somewhat easier now that they could use the road they had
made by their previous passage through the snow. But the leader wanted
to be able to form some idea of the coast line beyond where they had
been turned back, and, time after time, he made ineffectual efforts to
reach the shore and scale some high hill. At last he was successful,
after tremendous exertion, in reaching the summit of Dragon Point, an
altitude of 3700 feet. From here he was able to command an extensive
view, the land extending away as far as he could see into a cape which
he named Britannia Cape.
On June 13 they arrived at Repulse Bay depot, and the state of the
health of the men is best shown by the record Lieutenant Beaumont left,
and which was recovered by members of the Greely expedition six years
later. The record, dated June 13, 1876, reads:--
"Three of us have returned from the camp half a mile south to
fetch the remainder of the provisions. Dobing has failed altogether
this morning; Jones is much worse, and cannot last more than two or
three days; Craig is nearly helpless; therefore we cannot hope to
reach Polaris Bay without assistance. Two men cannot do it, so we
will go as far as we can, and live as long as we can. God help us.
L. A. BEAUMONT."
The discovery of this record, and the simple, manly faith and courage it
betokened, was destined to be of great service to another band of
English-speaking explorers in later years, and their opinion of it, and
the admiration they felt for the man who wrote it, will be told in the
account of the Greely expedition.
Meanwhile that Lieutenant Beaumont was making his heroic efforts to save
the men of his party, Lieutenant Rawson was growing anxious as to their
position. As they did not appear, he, on June 22, in company with one of
the Eskimo and a dog-team sledge, started along the coast in search of
them. Three days later they were met--on the last march they could have
made, for they were at the end of their strength. Lieutenant Beaumont,
in his account, says: "On the evening of the 24th we started for our
last journey with the sledge; for, finding that Jones and Gray were
scarcely able to pull, I had determined on reaching the shore to pitch
the tent for the sick men and walk over to Polaris Bay by myself, and
see if there was any one there to help us. If not, to come back and send
Jones and Gray, who could still walk, to the depot, while I remained
with the sick and got them on as best I could."
When Lieutenant Rawson met them, he found the intrepid Beaumont
straining at the sledge, with the two sick men helping him as much as
they could, while on the sledge lay the four helpless invalids, made as
comfortable as circumstances would permit. No time was lost in removing
them to Polaris Bay, where, under medical treatment, all recovered save
one. After a brief rest at Polaris Bay the journey back to the
_Discovery_ was successfully carried out, and Lieutenant Beaumont had
the pleasure of learning that his expedition had added considerably to
the geographical knowledge of Northern Greenland.
Shortly after the return of the sledge parties the _Alert_ rejoined the
_Discovery_, and, towards the end of August, both vessels weighed anchor
and started for England, where they arrived on November 2, 1876, having
been absent for seventeen months, during which time they had carried the
British flag to the "farthest North," and had brought within the
knowledge of man localities previously unknown. They had not reached the
Pole, and had come to the conclusion, after their experiences, that to
do so was beyond the range of human possibility.
CHAPTER VI
THE GREELY EXPEDITION
The Scheme of the Expedition--Fort Conger--Arctic
Wolves--Atmospheric Marvels--A Terrific Storm--Influence of the
Sun--Lieutenant Lockwood's Expedition--The Second
Winter--Preparations for Departure--They leave Fort Conger--A
Remarkable Ice Passage--They fail to make Cape Sabine--A New
Camp--Rations running Short--Fruitless Efforts to reach Food
Depots--Starvation and Death--A Bitter Blow--The Arrival of the
_Thetis_.
In 1881 the Government of the United States determined to send out
another expedition towards the North Pole, and a vote of $25,000 having
been passed by Congress for the purpose, Lieutenant Adolphus Washington
Greely was appointed to the command. Lieutenant Greely, who was an
officer in the 5th Cavalry regiment, had, as his companions, three
officers and twenty-one men selected from the United States army.
The scheme of the expedition was to proceed by steamer as far north as
Lady Franklin Bay, where they were to form a depot on Grinnel Land, and,
using it as a base, push forward, by means of dog-sledges over the ice,
and by steam launch over the open water, as far north as it was possible
to get.
The steamer _Proteus_, a vessel 467 tons and 110 horse-power, was
chartered by the explorers to convey them from New York to Lady
Franklin Bay. They sailed in June and proceeded to Upernavik, in
Greenland, where they took on board their sledge dogs and two Eskimo,
Jens and Frederick, to look after them. On July 1 they resumed their
journey in fairly open water. The season was especially mild, and they
were able to make excellent travelling through the unimpeded water. On
the way they stopped at Cary Islands and examined the records left there
by Sir George Nares in 1875, and which had been examined once before by
Sir Allen Young, in 1876. The sea was full of white whales, narwhals,
and grampus. The latter has the reputation of being a voracious feeder,
one authority stating that a dead grampus was found, choked by a seal he
had attempted to swallow, although, when he was opened, his stomach was
found to contain no fewer than thirteen porpoises and fourteen seals.
On August 4 the _Proteus_, for the first time during the voyage, was
stopped by the ice. Being built specially for navigating the ice-covered
seas, she was very powerful in the bows, which were further embellished
by a strong iron prow. Thus she was able to force her way through ice
which would have been impassable to a lighter craft. Her method, when
she was faced by moderately thin ice which was yet thick enough to stop
her ordinary progress, was to steam astern for a couple of hundred yards
and then rush full speed at the ice. The strength of the iron prow and
the force of her powerful engines drove her into the floe, but the
operation was one that required great care. As she approached the floe,
the crew, running from one side of the deck to the other, caused her to
roll as she struck, the engines being reversed directly her prow
penetrated the ice, so as to prevent her wedging herself in. This
exciting operation was repeated several times when she met the floe in
Lady Franklin Bay, and only by its means was she able to ram her way
through and reach the destination of the expedition.
A site for landing was selected on the north of Discovery Bay (where the
_Discovery_ wintered in 1876), and on August 11, 1881, Greely landed,
and proceeded to the cairn which had been erected by the Nares
expedition. Here he found two copper cases labelled "Reports and General
Information." The date upon them, which showed when they were deposited,
was August 11, 1876, exactly five years before to a day.
Proceeding a little distance from the spot where the _Discovery_ winter
quarters had been erected, a suitable situation was marked out for "Fort
Conger," which was to form the base of the operations pending the time
when the relief ship was due to take the expedition home again.
[Illustration: SHOOTING MUSK OX IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS.
These animals form a welcome addition to the larder of the Arctic
explorer.]
During the following week every one was hard at work erecting the frame
house which was to form their home during the next two years, unloading
stores and other articles belonging to the expedition, arranging the
heavy casks and cases of imperishable provisions near the house, and
exploring and hunting over the surrounding country. The hunting was a
necessary part of the business, for winter would soon be in and no fresh
meat would then be obtainable. So a few of the best shots spent their
time in the valleys round the bay, where a large number of musk oxen and
other game frequented.
On August 18, all the stores, &c., belonging to the party were landed
from the _Proteus_, and that vessel, being discharged, got up steam and
bade farewell. She was, however, prevented from getting out of sight
until August 26, the ice setting in rapidly and strongly. The men of the
party worked with such a will that they had their house built, the
recording instruments erected in proper localities, the provisions
stacked, and everything in order sufficiently early to permit them to
carry out some surveys while the weather was yet mild enough for sledge
travelling. Attention was also given to obtaining as much game as
possible, and by the time that the temperature was cold enough to
warrant their going into winter quarters and giving up outside work at
any distance from Fort Conger, they had obtained for their larder
twenty-six musk oxen and ten ducks, besides hare, seal, and ptarmigan,
in all 6000 lbs. of fresh meat for their own food, and an equal amount
for the dogs.
In the middle of September they were visited by a large pack of wolves.
These were first discovered prowling over the ice on the harbour in
front of the encampment, and, fearing the loss of some of the dogs, as
well as provisions, a hunting party went out to shoot them. But the
wolves were too cunning, keeping out of range until the men were tired
out. They were frequently fired at, but none fell, although, as
subsequent events proved, this might not have been due to bad
marksmanship. The Arctic wolves, as was discovered later, are perhaps
the most tenacious of life of any of the Northern animals.
One was seen, a day or so later, within a hundred yards of the house. It
was immediately fired at, and rolled over with a bullet through the
body; but before the marksman could get over to where it lay, the
apparently dead creature scrambled to its feet and made off, bleeding
profusely. The trail left by the blood was distinctly visible on the
snow, although the wolf itself, being covered with pure white fur, was
quite invisible. For over an hour the trail was followed, and when at
last the dead body was found, it lay practically bloodless, having
struggled on while there was a drop of blood in its veins. In view of
the difficulty of shooting them, the men resolved to poison them. But
here, again, the wolves were not to be caught.
The first time that poisoned meat was put out it was left untouched.
Some good meat was added, and at once disappeared, though the pieces
containing poison were still left alone. The poisoned baits were then
taken up, and only good meat put down, the wolves always taking it
until, their confidence being aroused, a few poisoned baits were mixed
with the other. The experiment succeeded so well that when the baits
were next visited four wolves and one fox were found dead. The others,
evidently alarmed, made off and did not again return.
As October passed the phenomena of the solar halo and aurora began to
make their appearance. The observation of atmospheric conditions being
one of the objects of the expedition, great attention was paid to these
displays, and some excellent descriptions were given of them. One which
occurred on October 21 and lasted five hours is thus described by the
leader of the expedition:--
"It consisted of two concentric rings, distant 23 deg. and 46 deg. respectively
from the sun, which were marked by five mock suns where the rainbow
tints were most clearly displayed. This was followed at evening by the
first aurora display, in the form of a delicate convoluted ribbon of
colourless light. On the 24th there was another halo. This was a double
one, there being two perfect concentric half-circles, distant 23 deg. and
46 deg. from the sun, each half-circle having a contact arch of magnificent
clearness. No fewer than six mock suns appeared, two on either hand and
two above the real sun, with prismatic colours in each case as vivid,
and clear as in any rainbow, the heavens being filled with a great glow
and wealth of colour."
After the sun had gone and the twilight of the long winter night had
set in, the sky was vivid, at one time, with a wide sweep of red,
yellow, and blue, marked by bars of white light running up and down.
Later, when the moon had risen, further atmospheric marvels were
recorded.
On one occasion the moon was surrounded by two circles, 22 deg. and 46 deg.
above the horizon. Both were topped by contact arches, and within them
six mock moons were present, two on each side of the true moon, and two
directly above it, all of which were brilliant with the colours of the
rainbow. Spires of light proceeded from the moon vertically, reaching
downwards to the horizon, and upwards to the outer circle. In addition
to these, a brilliant streak of white clear light extended from the
moon, horizontally, on both sides, completely round the horizon, and now
and again a faint mock moon of rainbow colours appeared high over the
whole, and another very low under it, making eight mock moons all
visible at the same moment round the real one. The moon was also seen
surrounded by a corona of four distinct bands of coloured light, the
first white, the second yellow, the third blue, and the outer one red.
But all the experiences of the winter were not so gratifying as these
aerial displays. As soon as the snow lay thick on the ground the men
banked it up against the sides of the house until they were completely
covered in up to the eaves. It then froze on the outside, and the house
was practically covered in with ice. This was of very great value in
preventing the loss of heat from the interior, and, later on, in saving
the house from being blown away in a terrific hurricane which occurred.
But even with the protection of the frozen snow outside, and the
constant burning of fires and lamps inside, the temperature of the house
was, in midwinter, so cold that any water accidentally spilled on the
floor turned to ice, and unless the ink-bottle was kept near a burning
lamp, the ink froze at once. Outside everything except alcohol was
frozen solid, the mercury being hard in the thermometers, and even the
rum getting thick as syrup. The lime-juice, of which a daily ration was
taken, was frozen into tablets, and so quickly did any liquid turn to
ice that some of the sledge-dog puppies were frozen to the ground
through running on to the place where the warm contents of the
slush-bucket were thrown.
Early in January the barometer, falling very rapidly, warned them that a
severe storm was approaching. Suddenly a fierce gust of wind swept over
the house, followed by a steady blow, the apparatus for registering the
velocity of the wind showing it to be at the rate of eighteen miles an
hour. The barometer continuing to fall, a man was sent out to take an
observation from an outside station, but the force of the wind had
increased so much that he could not face it alone, and two men had to
go. The air was soon filled with driving snow, and the rate of the wind
reached fifty miles an hour. It was now only possible for six men,
supporting one another, to stand against the dense volumes of snow which
the wind carried. When the velocity attained to sixty-five miles an
hour, fears were entertained as to the safety of the house. But still
the wind increased until, in a series of terrific gusts and squalls, the
house rocked and trembled as the register marked ninety miles an hour.
It was a moment of intense anxiety for the members of the party, for the
destruction of the house at that period of the year would almost
inevitably have meant their own destruction. Fortunately it was securely
built and so well protected by the banked-up snow, that it withstood the
fury of the hurricane.
This furious outburst was the final effort of the winter, for within a
few days of its occurrence the sky began to show signs of the
approaching sunrise; with the advent of light the spirits of the party,
necessarily depressed by the prolonged darkness, rapidly resumed their
normal contentment. When at last enough natural light existed for the
men to see one another, they were amused at the appearance of their
faces. The prolonged absence of sunlight had entirely robbed their
cheeks of any semblance of ruddiness, their complexions having changed
to a ghastly yellowy green tint, as though each one was suffering from a
severe attack of sea-sickness. The murky light of the lamps had not
revealed the change, and the more vainglorious were considerably
disturbed at their bleached cheeks, fearful lest the pallor should
always remain, like the whiteness of the bear's fur. But it passed off
under the influence of the sunshine.
Nor was this the only change produced by the sun. The effect of it upon
the land was so pronounced as almost to seem marvellous. Directly spring
set in sledge parties were despatched in all directions to survey and
spy out the country. One was led by Greely himself, its course being
along the route marked out, for a certain distance, by one of the
_Discovery_ parties in 1876.
Passing beyond the limits of the previous exploration, a large river,
entirely frozen over, was discovered, and along its course the party
made their way. The ice was wonderfully smooth in comparison with that
on the salt water, and excellent travelling was made, the men and
sledges frequently being able to slide for a hundred yards at a time. At
the head of the river they found an enormous glacier completely blocking
up the valley, extending five miles from side to side, and 175 feet
high. This was late in April, and everywhere the ground was covered with
ice and snow, desolate and motionless, with no sign of life, and no
sound, save the faint gurgle of running water which was occasionally
noticed under the ice on the river.
Early in July, little more than two months later, this valley was again
visited, but so great was the change in its appearance that the men
might have doubted its identity with the cold, desolate place they had
previously seen, but for the existence of the sparkling glacier. The
river now flowed along, glittering in the bright sunlight, between banks
covered with flowering plants. Bright yellow poppies gleamed all over
the verdure-clad slopes, with sturdy heath blooms, daisies, and other
blossoms mingling, and over them were flitting innumerable white and
yellow butterflies. Humble bees droned, and flies, including the
familiar daddy-long-legs, were everywhere present, as well as their
arch-enemies, the spiders. Ptarmigan, their white plumage somewhat
speckled with dark feathers, plovers, and birds of smaller size, were
seen on the wing; while over the verdant sides of the valley and along
the banks of the river, large herds of musk oxen were browsing, with
calves following the cows. The sky was brilliantly blue and almost free
from clouds. In the face of so much that was beautiful and full of life,
it was difficult to realise that a few weeks later the valley would
again be desolate and deserted, owning once more the supremacy of the
icy grip of the frost and snow.
Exploring the valley carefully, some very interesting discoveries were
made of ancient Eskimo dwellings. A number of relics were obtained, some
of them being implements which were quite unintelligible to the
Greenland Eskimos who were with the party. The remains of the houses
showed that they had originally been substantial structures, built of
slate, and must have been permanent residences rather than mere summer
quarters.
While the interior of the country was being explored, other sledge
parties set out over the frozen sea. One of these journeyed North, and
reached the spot where the _Alert_ had passed the winter in 1875. It was
intended to continue the journey over the ice towards the Pole similarly
to the sledge party Commander Markham and Lieutenant Parr had led, but
the ice was too rough for them. They passed beyond Cape Sheridan and set
out towards the North, but turned back, finding "nothing but an
inextricable mass of huge bergs, and enormous hummocks piled up in a
similar manner as when journeyed over by Commander Markham." The
scientific instruments they had with them had to be abandoned at one
place, owing to a sudden opening of the ice, but they approximated their
highest latitude as being 82 deg. 56' N. From the summit of a high berg,
they fancied they saw open water to the North, and then they returned to
the land, finding cliffs which rose 2000 feet straight out of the water,
and along the base of which the ice lay piled in tremendous heaps.
Another party, under Lieutenant Lockwood, the second in command of the
expedition, set out in the early spring across the frozen straits to
Greenland. This was over a similar route to that taken by Lieutenant
Beaumont of the _Discovery_; but the later expedition, not having to
struggle against the affliction of scurvy which had proved so disastrous
to the _Discovery_ party, was able to reach a far higher latitude.
The party consisted of Lieutenant Lockwood, Sergeant Brainard, and the
Eskimo Frederick, and they succeeded in reaching the most northerly
point that had yet been discovered, not only on the coast of Greenland,
but also in the Arctic regions. The latitude recorded was 83 deg. 23' 8" N.,
and thus the honour, which for three hundred years had been the boast of
the British, the honour of having attained the nearest point to the
North Pole reached by man, was wrested from the British Lion by its
cousin, the American Eagle.
Although only three men were in the party which reached this high
latitude, the party which set out from Fort Conger comprised thirteen
men and five sledges. The experience gained by the members of the Nares
expedition was of the utmost value to subsequent explorers, and the
members of the Greely expedition always made acknowledgment of this
fact, coupled with very complimentary references to the skill, the
courage, and the devotion of those whom they termed "our kin from over
the sea." Thus it was that in laying the plans for this northerly trip
they provided for a series of food depots and relief parties all along
the route. Several of the former had been placed in position during the
early spring, and there is no doubt that this arrangement contributed
very materially to the success of the enterprise. The last depot was
formed when nearly in sight of Cape Britannia, and from thence the small
party of three pushed forward. The dog team saved them an enormous
amount of labour by dragging the sledge for them, but even then they
found the travelling exceedingly difficult. Their sleeping-bags were
damp, and consequently they were always compelled to rest in great
discomfort. As they approached Cape Britannia the route became more
difficult, and their best march was sixteen miles in ten hours. Beyond
the cape an island was reached, to which the name of the leader,
Lieutenant Lockwood, was given, and the extreme point of which furnished
their "farthest North." The coast line still showed beyond, and to the
most distant point the name of Cape Washington was given. Then the small
band turned back, having succeeded in reaching a few miles nearer the
Pole than Commander Markham, whose journey, however, was over the frozen
sea, whereas the other was along the Greenland coast.
The following spring, to anticipate the course of the narrative, another
effort was made to reach Cape Washington, but so rapid a thaw set in
that the party had to turn back before reaching as far as Lockwood
Island. They, however, secured all the relics of Lieutenant Beaumont's
party, including a British ensign, which were faithfully preserved
throughout the terrible privations the expedition was fated to undergo.
These relics were subsequently forwarded by the United States Government
to the British and are now in the Greenwich Museum with the Franklin
mementoes, treasured not only as emblems of British courage but also of
American good-will. Of the memorable record left by Lieutenant Beaumont
at Repulse Bay, its perusal by the members of the Greely expedition is
thus described by the leader:--
"This brilliant record of British courage, discipline, devotion to duty
and endurance, must ever affect deeply all who may read its full
details. To the men of the Lady Franklin Bay Expedition, who justly
appreciated the terrible contingencies of the situation, and who bore
similar dangers, this story, as told by the gallant Beaumont, was full
of deep and assuring interest."
The American festival of "Decoration Day" occurred while the party were
at Polaris Bay, the place where the two _Discovery_ men who died were
buried. The festival is one for the commemoration of American heroes,
and on that day throughout the United States all the graves of their
heroes are decorated. Here on the bleak, barren Greenland coast they
remembered the festival, and kept it by taking the Stars and Stripes
from the sledge poles and draping them over the rough monuments erected
above the remains of the two British sailors.
The second winter that was passed at Fort Conger was monotonous and
gloomy. The experience of the previous period of darkness was of great
service, inasmuch as the comfort of the expedition was improved in many
ways. The piled-up snow which had formed so useful a protection the year
before was carried right over the roof, considerably increasing the
warmth and snugness of the interior. But there was one fact which
weighed somewhat heavily on the minds of every one. A relief steamer was
expected before the winter set in, and it had not arrived. There was
still an abundant supply of food, and no alarm was felt on that score;
but the novelty of the surroundings having worn off, the prospect of the
long, weary stretch of darkness had a depressing influence. It, however,
passed without any untoward incident, and with the return of the sun
field work was resumed. The most notable journey was that of Lieutenant
Lockwood and his companion on the "farthest North" trip, Sergeant
Brainard, who, in one month, covered 437 miles of the hitherto
unexplored interior parts of Grinnel Land, discovering numerous lakes
and glaciers. One of the latter was of particular interest by reason of
the vari-coloured face it presented. The top layer, which overhung
slightly, was of dull opaque white, that immediately beneath it ranging
in colour from pale green to a clear blue, while the next and thickest
layer was of a rich chocolate colour, due to the soil which had been
frozen in with the water. The lowest streak was similar to the topmost,
dull opaque white.
In their absence the remainder of the explorers were busily engaged in
establishing food depots to the south, along the route they would be
compelled to take in the event of a retreat being necessary. The
non-arrival of the relief steamer prior to the winter gave rise to some
speculation whether it would arrive in the spring, and a plan was
arranged for a retreat to the south being carried out, if no relief ship
came, in the boats the expedition possessed. These consisted of a steam
launch 27 feet long, an iceboat which had been abandoned by Lieutenant
Beaumont in 1876, and two whale-boats. A depot of forty days' full
rations was placed at Cape Baird and another of twenty days' rations at
Cape Collinson, as soon as the ice was open enough to allow the launch
to proceed. Then when it had returned and all the survey parties were
in, a decision was come to that if no steamer arrived by July 31 the
retreat would be commenced.
July passed and August arrived, but there were no signs of the approach
of any relief steamer, and, on August 9, with the boats loaded with the
records of the work done and as much food as could be stored in them,
the party bade farewell to Fort Conger and started on their memorable
journey. The lateness of the season made navigation extremely difficult
for such small craft, and they were frequently impeded by ice which
would have offered no obstacle to a big steamer. They had scarcely got
out of sight of the house where they had passed the two long dark
winters before they were so beset with loose ice that progress was
almost impossible. Then new ice formed round them, and they were hard
and fast. The fact that they only carried a limited supply of fuel made
their position more serious, and when, on August 18, a temporary
breaking in the floes enabled them to move forward, there was a general
rejoicing. But it was soon checked on discovering that they were forced
inside of a huge mass of ice over fifty feet high and extending right up
to the solid floe. It was impossible to turn back and fight through the
drifting ice behind them, and the only hope of escape seemed to be to
steam on in case there might be a channel through the floe ahead.
As they passed along the great wall of ice they were amazed at seeing a
crevice run into it. Arriving opposite to it, they found that it was a
cleavage which went right through the mass, and they turned into it. The
enormous berg had grounded and had split asunder, leaving a passage a
hundred yards long and barely twelve feet wide, the sides of which were
sheer fifty feet high on either hand. Such a formation was unique, even
in the Arctic regions, and the steaming through it was an adventure
without a parallel.
It led them into fairly open water, and they were able to push on into
Rawlings Bay before they were again beset. This time it was not the new
ice but the closing in of the floes that caught them. So quickly did
the masses close in that the boats were caught and "nipped" before
anything could be done to save them. The men at once scrambled out on to
the ice, striving to lift the lighter boats on to the floe and unloading
the provisions from the others as fast as they could, lest the crack
should open again and everything be lost. The nip, however, had not been
so severe as to endanger the floating capacity of the boats, but the ice
had closed too firmly to allow of any hopes of their being able to force
their way through. A strong wind from the north, in spite of the snow
and cold it would have brought, would have been welcome; but the days
were provokingly calm, and the ice only moved south at its ordinary slow
rate. By August 26 they had travelled 300 miles from Fort Conger and
were within fifty miles of Cape Sabine, a headland where there was a
large supply of stores left by Sir George Nares in 1876. If they were
able to reach there before the winter night set in, there was some
chance of their existing through the dreary period which, it was now
evident, they were doomed to pass in that locality. And yet the spirits
of the party were as bright as though a steamer were within sight of
them. One of them, in his diary, wrote: "Adversity in any form would
fail, I think, to dampen the spirits of the men. Our situation is
desperate. Any moment the ice may crumble beneath our feet and the sea
swallow up the entire party. Still, while exercising on the ice this
evening, the men danced and sang as merrily as they would have done in
their own homes. They are irrepressible in the face of all this
uncertainty and perhaps starvation."
The end of the month found them still beset, and with barely fifty days'
rations. The opinion was now divided as to the best course to adopt,
whether to remain in the boats and wait on the off-chance of their
drifting near Cape Sabine, or to take to the sledges and push on over
the rough ice to the shore. They had been drifting for thirty miles, and
only twenty now lay between them and the cape with its store of
provisions. The leader was averse to leaving the boats at once, and the
days dragged on until, on September 10, it was evident that the sledge
journey would have to be undertaken if the shore was to be reached and a
camp formed before the darkness set in.
Unfortunately when they did abandon the boats the weather changed, and a
cold wind with driving snow came to make their struggle still more
difficult. They tried at first to drag two of the boats with them, but
one soon had to be abandoned and the party struggled on. Their
sleeping-bags froze and filled with drifting snow so that they were able
to obtain but little rest when they halted, and when they were moving
they were always cold and miserable. Until September 28 they were
struggling over the rough, difficult ice, and then their trials were
further increased. They were nearing the shore, and the force of the
tide, backed up by the pressure of the ice grinding along before the
wind, caused the floe to crack and break up. Only by the most persistent
energy and exertion were they able to get their stores and themselves on
shore, though still some distance from Cape Sabine.
They had now travelled 500 miles since they left Fort Conger, and not
only were the men considerably exhausted by their recent struggle, but
winter was setting in very rapidly with constant and heavy storms. It
was therefore decided to form a camp where they were, while the snow had
not frozen too hard for them to get some stones for a shelter. They had
been compelled, on their journey over the ice, to abandon everything in
the way of covering save their sleeping-bags, and unless they built a
hut of some description the rigour of the winter would inevitably be
fatal to all.
Such stones as could be found were collected and built into a low wall
forming a square of about sixteen feet. The stones were difficult to
obtain, and the wall could only be made three feet high. An opening was
left in one of the sides of the square and a passage way constructed, so
that the entrance to the interior did not open directly on to the frozen
exterior. Across the top of the walls the boat they had dragged with
them over the ice was laid keel uppermost, the oars being laid under it
so as to maintain it in position, the open spaces between the sides of
the boat and the walls being covered with such canvas as they had.
Around the stone walls and over the top, snow was piled, and their
living house was complete. It sheltered them from the wind and from the
extreme bitterness of the cold, but beyond that nothing could be claimed
for it. Every one had to enter it on hands and knees, and, once inside,
no one could stand up, while the taller men of the party were only able
to sit up in the middle of the hut where the boat made the roof slightly
higher.
The men arranged their sleeping-bags against the walls with the feet
towards the middle of the floor, and when they had crept in through the
narrow entrance, they groped their way into the bags. Then, half lying
and half sitting, with their shoulders against the stones behind them,
they made themselves as comfortable as they could during the long period
of darkness. They divided themselves into messes for the purpose of
feeding, and two cooks prepared the food, an operation that was always
difficult and unpleasant. It had, of necessity, to be carried on inside
the hut, and when the two men were kneeling in a cramped-up position
over the make-shift for a stove in the middle of the floor, there was no
room for any one else to stretch his legs. Every one had to huddle up as
closely as possible, and as all the smoke from the stove had to find its
way out of the hut the best way it could, the atmosphere during cooking
time was far from refreshing. The heat from the stove also thawed the
ground immediately under it, and the snow on the canvas over it, with
the result that the cooking of every meal meant a thorough wetting as
well as a choking for the cooks.
As soon as the hut was finished, a small party pushed on towards Cape
Sabine in order to locate the provisions stored there. On October 9 they
returned with the news that despatches had been found, stating the
_Proteus_ had foundered in the ice on July 24 just off the cape, and
that the crew and relief party had started to the south so as to meet
the second relief steamer _Yantic_, or a Swedish steamer which was known
to be in the locality, and send on help to the Greely expedition.
The little party also discovered some provisions and the whale-boat,
previously abandoned on the ice, which had drifted ashore near the cape.
This was subsequently used as firewood when all other fuel was
exhausted.
The news of the disaster to the _Proteus_ was a serious blow to the
expedition, as it meant that no help would be able to reach them until
the following spring at the earliest, and, in the meantime, they would
be compelled to exist as best they could upon their meagre stock of
provisions. The relief party who had visited the cape on their way from
the wreck of the _Proteus_ had very considerably reduced the stores
which the Greely party counted on finding, and when they obtained the
remnants which were left, part of the bread was found to be a mass of
green slimy mildew. The men had now been on reduced rations for many
days, and so hungry were the members of the band sent to convey the
stores from Cape Sabine to the hut that when the green mouldy stuff was
thrown out by the officer in charge, the men flung themselves on to it
and devoured it despite all he could do to persuade them from such a
course.
The question of the strictest economy in the management of the food
supplies was now a matter of life or death, and very seriously the
leaders debated it. On October 26 the sun sank beneath the horizon, and
in the ensuing darkness, which lasted for 110 days, there would be no
chance of obtaining any game. A few blue foxes had been killed since the
camp was formed, and half the number were set aside for subsequent
consumption, those consumed at once being devoured to the bones, every
part being put into the stew.
Meagre as the rations were, it was necessary to reduce them still
further if the food was to last until the spring. By a further reduction
it was calculated that the party could exist until March 1, when the
available supplies would amount to ten days' rations. But no relief
could possibly reach them until a couple of months later than that, and
how were they to live after March 10, when the last crumb of their
supplies had been consumed?
There was only one course open for them, and that was explained by the
leader. On November 1, the allowance for each man would be fourteen
ounces, given out every twenty-four hours, and on March 1, as soon as
there was light, they would take their remaining ten days' supply and
set out across the frozen straits in the forlorn hope of reaching an
outlying camp of Etah Eskimo on the Greenland coast.
The terrible prospect of such a scheme to men situated as they were can
scarcely be imagined. For over a month they had already been slowly
starving on an amount of food for daily consumption which an ordinary
man could comfortably eat at one meal, and now that amount was to be
decreased to less than a pound of food a day and in a climate where the
cold was so intense that water could not be kept from freezing inside
the hut excepting it was over the stove. For four months they would have
to face that rigid diet, suffering the pangs of starvation constantly,
almost entirely in the dark, and always huddled up in the sleeping-bags
against the walls of their low-roofed hut. Yet they accepted the scheme
without a murmur.
Seldom have men shown themselves so absolutely courageous, for at the
best it was merely slow starvation so as to be able to make an almost
hopeless dash for freedom and food in four months' time. The suffering
during those four months was terrible. Men, as soon as they got hold of
their day's rations, were tempted to devour them at once, and so still
for a time the ceaseless gnawing of their hunger; but to do so meant
that in an hour's time the pain would be back again with no means of
staying it until twenty-three hours had passed. Calmly and bravely they
faced the ordeal, dividing their scanty store into regular meals, and
when, by an accident one of them upset his can, spilling his few
mouthfuls of tea on the ground, the others contributed from their share
so that he should not go entirely without. Nothing could exceed the
touching fidelity which characterised their bearings, one to the other,
during this period of unexampled suffering.
At Cape Isabella, a stock of 140 lbs. of meat was known to have been
left by Sir George Nares, and a party of four set out in the hopes of
securing it. For a week before they started they were allowed an extra
ration in order to strengthen them for the trial of a journey in the
dark over rough ice and with the temperature at 34 deg. below zero. The
extra ration consisted of two ounces a day.
For five days they battled their way through the darkness against a
heavy wind laden with snow, and at last found the place where the food
was. Piling it on their sledge, they turned back home again, and for
fourteen hours laboured with it, only consuming a little warm tea during
that time, for they had no means of heating more. One of the four was
badly bitten by the frost, and was soon so stricken that he could not
even stagger along. A piercing wind was blowing, and to save their
comrade's life, the others abandoned the sledge and tried to support
him. Soon two of them became exhausted, and the remaining one, Sergeant
Rice, pushed on alone to the camp in order to bring help. For sixteen
hours he was fighting his way over the twenty-five miles that lay
between him and the hut. When he arrived there his lips were too frozen
for him to be able to speak at once.
Weary and weak as the whole party was, eight of the strongest at once
started off in rescue. When they picked the other three up, they found
them lying under the sleeping-bag with the sick man between them, and
the bag frozen so hard over them that it had to be cut open before they
could be got out. Then they resumed their way to the camp, which they
reached after forty-four hours' absence, in which time they had covered
forty miles.
The frost-bitten man, Elison, was almost dead, his face, feet, and hands
being absolutely frozen, but so determined were they all to survive as
long as possible that he was tended with all the care they could
command. He was kept alive in spite of his sufferings, which, during the
first week after his rescue, were so severe that he daily called on his
comrades to end his misery.
Meanwhile the memory of the abandoned sledge laden with meat was
constantly in the minds of the starving men, whose hunger was now so
great that in the darkness after the lamp was put out--economy compelled
them to use it only for cooking--men crept to the stove and devoured any
rancid fat left in the lamp. But still discipline held them together,
and they made no mention of their sufferings to one another. The success
of the journey across the ice on March 1 was what they looked forward
to, and with the arrival of that date they believed their sufferings
would be over.
On January 18 the first one of the party to die passed away, really of
starvation, although the men, to keep the ugly word away from their
minds, accepted the doctor's statement that it was of an effusion of
water at the heart that the man had died. His end made a deep impression
on the gallant little band, all the same, and by the beginning of
February several more men were in a critical condition, including
Lieutenant Lockwood, who refused to accept an extra ration of two ounces
a day from the diminished stores.
Sergeant Rice, accompanied by the Eskimo Jens, made a plucky effort to
reach Littleton Island, where an outlying camp of Eskimo might be found;
but Jens could not stand the journey, and, five days after starting,
they returned. Every one was now impressed with the necessity of
husbanding their energies for the great effort to be made on the first
day of March, and as February slowly passed away, the emaciated
creatures grew enthusiastic as they sought to cheer one another up by
detailing the tremendous feasts they would have when they returned to
civilisation. At length the first of March dawned, and the brave hearts,
which had kept up so long against starvation and despair, shrank before
the terrible blow they received. The ice had broken, and open water
rolled where they had planned to cross on the ice. Nothing was said, for
the courage of the men was only equalled by their consideration for one
another, but the effect of the great disappointment sank deep into the
minds of many.
The food remaining was eked out through the month with the aid of some
blue foxes and a ptarmigan, which were eaten to the bones, and April
found them with only a few days even of the starvation rations
remaining. Several of the men were so weak that they could barely turn
over in their sleeping-bags. The Eskimo Frederick was found dead in his
bag, and another of the little party followed the next day. Then
Sergeants Rice and Fredericks insisted on making an effort to reach the
meat abandoned when Elison was frost-bitten. It is difficult to
understand why the effort had not been made before; but many errors of
judgment are conspicuous after a campaign which are not so apparent in
the moment of struggle.
Now that it was made it failed, through the cold freezing wind
penetrating the starved bodies of the two men. Rice, who throughout the
terrible ordeal of their captivity had never spared himself, was the
first to feel it. A strong wind was blowing, bringing down heavy snow
squalls. Suddenly Rice began to talk wildly and then staggered.
Fredericks grasped him by the arm and tried to keep him up, but the cold
and starvation had too tight a hold upon their victim. He vainly
endeavoured to pull himself together, but only for a moment; then he
sank down on the snow, babbling about the feast he was going to enjoy.
His comrade tried to restore him by giving him some of the stimulants
they had with them, and did not hesitate to strip off his own fur coat
to lay upon the other, sitting the while, holding his hands, and exposed
to all the biting fury of the Arctic wind, in his shirt sleeves. But
everything was useless; Rice was too worn out and too weak to fight
further, and died as he faintly talked of the food he fancied he was
eating.
The shock to Fredericks was almost overwhelming, for he was miles away
from the camp, chilled to the bone, and with only a little coffee and
spirits of ammonia to revive his own drooping vitality. Yet he would not
leave his dead comrade until he had reverently laid him in a shallow
resting-place in the snow, though it almost cost him his life to pay
this last tribute.
When he at last managed to reach the camp with his sad tidings he was
almost gone, and the news he brought plunged every one into the lowest
depths of sorrow, for Rice had always been one of the bravest and best
of the party. Those who were able to do so, attended to Fredericks and
revived him.
To those who were weakest the end of Rice was a fatal blow, and the next
day or so saw three or four pass away, one of whom was the intrepid
Lockwood. A very few more days and all would have gone but for a gleam
of good fortune. A young bear was killed, and the 400 pounds of meat
obtained from it was the salvation of the survivors.
Several seals were seen in the straits and a few walrus, and all who
could still handle a gun were daily striving to obtain fresh supplies
for the larder. Eskimo Jens, who hunted assiduously, succeeded in
killing a small seal; but in a chase after another his kayak was injured
in the ice and he was drowned.
After his death only misfortune attended the hunting, and, failing to
replenish their stock of game, they
Showing first 200,000 characters. Full text: gutenberg.org/ebooks/36802