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                       THE  SIEGE  AND  CONQUEST
                          OF  THE  NORTH  POLE




                                  THE

                          SIEGE  AND  CONQUEST

                                OF  THE

                              NORTH  POLE



                                   BY
                GEORGE  BRYCE,  L.R.C.P.  &  S. (EDIN.)


                              L O N D O N
                     GIBBINGS  &  COMPANY  LIMITED
                        18  BURY  STREET,  W.C.
                                  1910




                                PREFACE

My chief object in compiling this work has been to supply a brief
account of the main efforts which have been made to reach the North
Pole. The subject is now so extensive that few have the opportunity of
covering the whole ground. While the exciting and specially interesting
incidents have not been omitted, the book aims at giving the reader an
intelligent idea of the equipment and other means by which the work of
exploration has been carried on.

The many expeditions which have set out to find a north-west or a
north-east passage do not come within the scope of the book, except when
they have had some special bearing on the struggle for the Pole.

Those who may wish to pursue the subject further by consulting the
original authors can be assured that no works of fiction relate greater
deeds of heroism than are found in the records of Arctic exploration;
and that while they may satisfy their love for the adventurous they will
add something to their geographical knowledge.

It is hoped that the maps may be of considerable assistance in enabling
the reader to follow the narrative. The spelling of geographical and
other names is generally that adopted by the authors of the original
works.

                                                          GEORGE BRYCE.
 BIRMINGHAM, _December 1909_.




                       CONTENTS AND LIST OF MAPS

              I. PARRY’S EXPEDITION OF 1827
             II. KANE’S EXPEDITION (1853, ’54, ’55)
            III. EXPEDITION COMMANDED BY DR. HAYES IN 1860−61
             IV. THE GERMAN EXPEDITION (1869−70)
              V. VOYAGE OF THE _POLARIS_ (1871−73)
             VI. THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN EXPEDITION (1872−74)
            VII. THE BRITISH EXPEDITION OF 1875−76
           VIII. THE VOYAGE OF THE _JEANNETTE_ (1879−81)
             IX. GREELY’S EXPEDITION (1881−84)
              X. THE NORWEGIAN POLAR EXPEDITION (1893−96)
             XI. SVERDRUP’S EXPEDITION (1898−1902)
            XII. ITALIAN EXPEDITION (1899−1900)
           XIII. PEARY’S EXPEDITIONS (1886−1909)
            XIV. DR. COOK’S EXPEDITION (1907−9)

                                  MAPS

              1. THE ARCTIC REGIONS
              2. CHART OF SMITH SOUND AND KENNEDY CHANNEL
              3. CHART OF PART OF EAST GREENLAND
              4. KAISER FRANZ-JOSEF LAND IN 1874
              5. CHART OF GREENLAND AND ELLESMERE ISLAND
              6. FRANZ-JOSEF LAND
              7. CHART OF SVERDRUP’S DISCOVERIES
              8. CHART OF NORTHERN PART OF GREENLAND
              9. CHART OF NORTH POLAR REGIONS




                        GLOSSARY OF ARCTIC TERMS

       _Beset_, so enclosed by floating ice as to be unable to
         navigate.
       _Bore_, to force through loose or recent ice.
       _Calf_, detached mass from berg or glacier, rising suddenly
         to the surface.
       _Crow’s nest_, a look-out place attached to the
         topgallant-masthead.
       _Dock_, an opening in the ice, artificial or natural,
         offering protection.
       _Drift ice_, detached ice in motion.
       _Field ice_, an extensive surface of floating ice.
       _Floe_, a detached portion of a field.
       _Hummocks_, ridges of broken ice formed by collision of
         fields.
       _Ice-blink_, a peculiar appearance of the atmosphere over
         distant ice.
       _Ice-foot_, the ice which adheres to the coast above the
         ordinary level of the sea.
       _Lane or lead_, a more or less navigable opening in the ice.
       _Nip_, the condition of a vessel pressed upon by ice on both
         sides.
       _Pack_, a large area of floating masses of ice driven
         together more or less closely.
       _Palæocrystic ice_, the name given by Nares to the old ice
         of the Polar Sea.
       _Polynia_, a Russian term for an open-water space.
       _Rue-raddy_, a shoulder-belt to drag by.




[Illustration: THE ARCTIC REGIONS]




                              INTRODUCTION

        “There’s a flag on the mast, and it points to the north,
          And the north holds the land that I love;
        I will steer back to northward, the heavenly course
          Of the winds guiding sure from above.”

                                              FRITHJOF’S _Saga_.

The North Pole is the centre of the Northern Hemisphere. This hemisphere
contains Europe, Asia, North America, and a large part of Africa, yet no
human being reached its centre before the eighth year of the twentieth
century A.D.

The North Pole is the point where the axis of the earth cuts its
surface. It is the point where, as Captain Hall expressed it, there is
no north, no east, no west. It is the place where every wind that blows
is a south wind. It is a point where all the meridians meet, and there
is therefore no longitude. It is one of the two places on the surface of
the earth where there is but one night and one day in every year. It is
a point from which all the heavenly bodies appear to move in horizontal
courses, and the stars never set. It is not to be confused with the
magnetic pole, which is situated about 1600 miles south of it, near the
mainland of North America. At the North Pole the magnetic needle points
due south.

The North Pole is therefore a place of absorbing interest, and until it
was reached man never rested satisfied. Ever since Robert Thorne, in the
reign of Henry VIII., offered “very weighty and substantial reasons to
set forth a discoverie even to the North Pole,” the struggle has been
going on.

In no other records of adventure do we find greater deeds of daring than
in those of Arctic travel. The dauntless courage in the face of extreme
danger, the perseverance when hope was forlorn, the self-sacrifices made
to render assistance to comrades, all stamp these pioneers of science
and commerce as heroes in the highest sense of the word. Some of their
daring exploits, their successes and disasters, are here recorded, but
the author hopes that this book will only serve as an introduction to
the original ones. After reading the thrilling narratives of Arctic
exploration, one is ready to admit that “truth is stranger than
fiction.”

The Polar regions can be reached by only three navigable routes. Either
by the wide passage between Greenland and Norway, a smaller passage
between Greenland and America, or by the narrow Bering Strait between
America and Russia.

Up till the beginning of the nineteenth century nearly all the Arctic
voyages had as the chief object the discovery either of a north-west or
a north-east passage to the Pacific Ocean.

On the 7th June 1585 two tiny craft sailed from Dartmouth in quest of
the North-West Passage. They were commanded by John Davis, a daring
explorer.

Davis sighted Greenland on 20th July, and on the 29th he was off where
now stands the Danish settlement of Godthaab. He crossed the strait
which now bears his name, and traced part of the western coast.

Davis made a second voyage in 1586, and a third in 1587. In the latter
year he reached and named Sanderson’s Hope, in 72° 41′.

Between 1594 and 1596 three expeditions were dispatched by the Dutch
towards Spitzbergen. That of 1596 is of special interest. William
Barents, the discoverer of Spitzbergen, was the chief pilot. The ship
reached Ice Haven, Novaya Zemlya, on 26th August, and here the party
were forced to winter. A house was built with wood, but the winter was
passed miserably, scurvy ultimately making its appearance among the
crew. The ship being hopelessly beset by the ice, it was decided during
the following summer to abandon it.

In two boats, the party of fifteen men started on a journey of 1524
miles. Barents himself and one of the crew were ill, and had to be
dragged on a sledge from the house to the boats. Both died on the
boat-journey. The remainder ultimately reached Russian Lapland, where
their troubles ceased.

About 274 years afterwards, the house built by Barents was discovered by
Captain Carlsen. Over the fireplace still stood the cooking-pans, an old
clock was against the wall, and arms, tools, drinking-vessels, and books
were found as they had been left nearly three centuries before.

In 1607, Henry Hudson endeavoured to reach the Pole along the east coast
of Greenland. He attained 73° at a point which he named “Hold with
Hope.”

He then examined the edge of the ice between Greenland and Spitzbergen,
and reached the latitude of 80° 23′. He named the north-west point of
Spitzbergen “Hakluyt Headland,” and on his way home he discovered the
island now known as “Jan Mayen.”

In 1610 he discovered Hudson’s Strait, and the great bay which bears his
name.

On 26th March 1616, Robert Bylot as master, with William Baffin as pilot
and navigator, set out from Gravesend in the _Discovery_, a craft of
only 55 tons. Greenland was sighted on 14th May, and on the 30th May,
Sanderson’s Hope, the farthest point of Davis, was reached. On the 9th
June he discovered Baffin Islands, in 73° 54′. He then took what is
known as the “Middle Passage” across Melville Bay, and reached the
“North Water” of the whalers of to-day.

Baffin discovered and charted Wolstenholme Sound and Hakluyt Island, and
passed north till he was within sight of Cape Alexander. He named Smith
Sound after the first Governor of the East India Company. He also
discovered Carey Islands, Lancaster Sound, and Jones Sound.

When we consider the wretched means with which these early explorers
were provided, we are lost in astonishment at their audacity and at the
success of their achievements.

It was exactly two hundred years afterwards that these northern places
were visited by Ross and Parry. Baffin’s work had been almost forgotten,
and his discoveries were not believed.

During the seventeenth century many expeditions were sent out which were
the means of opening up extensive commercial relations with Russia and
of establishing the fisheries of Spitzbergen, Davis Straits, and
Newfoundland.

During the eighteenth century several expeditions were fitted out by the
Hudson Bay Company, and a good deal of exploration was done by the
Russians. In 1728, Vitus Bering discovered the straits which now bear
his name; and in 1742, Lieutenant Chelyuskin reached the most northerly
point of Asia in 77° 34′ by sledges. In 1765, Admiral Tschitschagoff was
sent by the Czarina Catharine of Russia with three vessels to
Spitzbergen to sail towards the North Pole. He reached 80° 21′, but
found it impossible to advance farther. The following year he reached
80° 28′. In 1770 the New Siberian Islands were discovered by Liakhof.

In 1773, Constantine John Phipps, afterwards Lord Mulgrave, sailed with
the _Racehorse_ and _Carcass_, with a view of reaching the North Pole.
He reached 80° 37′, and visited some of the Seven Islands. He also
mapped the north of Spitzbergen. In this expedition the great Horatio
Nelson was captain’s coxswain on board the _Carcass_.

In 1818, Captain Buchan in the _Dorothea_, and Lieutenant (afterwards
Sir John) Franklin in the _Trent_, attained 80° 34′ north of
Spitzbergen.

In 1823, Clavering and Sabine, in the ship _Griper_, visited
Spitzbergen, and while Sabine carried on magnetic observations on the
inner Norway Island, Clavering went to sea and steered northwards, but
did not get farther than 80° 20′.

The edge of the ice had now been thoroughly examined between the coast
of Greenland and Novaya Zemlya, and it became evident that the ice could
not be pierced by a ship. It occurred to Sir John Franklin and Sir
Edward Parry that the best way of reaching the Pole would be by means of
sledging over the ice. Parry put his ideas into practice in 1827, when
he undertook his well-known expedition in the _Hecla_. He had just
returned from his third Arctic voyage in search of the North-West
Passage. His fourth voyage was an important one, and will be treated at
some length in the first chapter.




                The Siege and Conquest of the North Pole




                               CHAPTER I
                       PARRY’S EXPEDITION OF 1827


In April 1826, Captain William Edward Parry proposed to Viscount
Melville, First Lord Commissioner of the Admiralty, “to attempt to reach
the North Pole, by means of travelling with sledge-boats over the ice,
or through any spaces of open water that might occur.” The proposal was
referred to the Royal Society, who strongly recommended its adoption;
and an expedition having been equipped, Parry was appointed to the
command of it.

Before making the proposal, Parry had given the subject careful
consideration. He mentions that Captain Lutwidge, the associate of
Captain Phipps in the expedition towards the North Pole in 1773,
describes the ice north of Spitzbergen to the distance of ten or twelve
leagues to have the appearance of “one continued plain of smooth
unbroken ice, bounded only by the horizon.” The testimony of Mr.
Scoresby, Jun., “a close and intelligent observer of Nature in these
regions,” was also found to agree with that given by Lutwidge. “I once
saw,” says he, “a field that was so free from either fissure or hummock,
that I imagine, had it been free from snow, a coach might have been
driven many leagues over it in a direct line, without obstruction or
danger.” In addition to these, experienced whalers, whom Parry consulted
as to the nature of the ice, agreed that it was highly favourable for
the purpose of his expedition. An important factor in determining Parry
to make the proposal was the fact that Franklin had drawn up a plan for
making the attempt on the same lines.

For the journey over the ice, two boats were constructed having great
flatness of floor, with the extreme breadth carried well forward and
aft, and possessing the utmost buoyancy, as well as capacity for
stowage. Their length was 20 feet, and their extreme breadth 7 feet. The
timbers were made of tough ash and hickory, 1 inch by half an inch
square, and a foot apart, with a “half-timber” of smaller size between
each two. On the outside of the frame thus formed was laid a covering of
Mackintosh’s waterproof canvas, the outer part being coated with tar.
Over this was placed a plank of fir, 3/16 of an inch thick; then a sheet
of stout felt; and over all, an oak plank of the same thickness as the
fir; the whole of these being firmly and closely secured to the timbers
by iron screws applied from without. “On each side of the keel, and
projecting considerably below it, was attached a strong ‘runner’ shod
with smooth steel, in the manner of a sledge, upon which the boat
entirely rested while upon the ice; and to afford some additional chance
of making progress on hard and level fields, we also applied to each
boat two wheels, of 5 feet diameter, and a small one abaft, having a
swivel for steering by, like that of a Bath chair; but these, owing to
the irregularities of the ice, did not prove of any service, and were
subsequently relinquished. A ‘span’ of hide-rope was attached to the
fore part of the runners, and to this were affixed two strong ropes of
horse-hair, for dragging the boat; each individual being furnished with
a broad leathern shoulder-belt, which could readily be fastened to or
detached from the drag-ropes.” The boats weighed 1539 lb. and 1542 lb.
respectively. Two officers and twelve men were selected for each boat’s
crew. The provisions consisted of biscuit, sweetened cocoa-powder, and
pemmican. The process of making the latter consisted in drying large
thin slices of the lean of the meat over the smoke of wood fires, then
pounding it, and lastly mixing it with about an equal weight of its own
fat. In this state it was quite ready for use, without further cooking.

The _Hecla_, which was to convey the expedition to the north coast of
Spitzbergen, left the Thames on the 25th of March 1827. They arrived at
Hammerfest on 18th April. Here they obtained a small quantity of venison
and an abundance of good fish. They also purchased a set of snow-shoes,
together with Lapland shoes (called “Kamooga”). They also took on board
eight reindeer and a supply of moss. “The quantity of _clean_ moss
considered requisite for each deer per day is 4 pounds, but they will go
five or six days without provender, and not suffer materially. As long
as they can pick up snow as they go along, which they like to eat quite
clean, they require no water; and ice is to them a comfortable bed.”

Hammerfest was left on 29th April, and on the 5th of May, in latitude
73° 30′, the first straggling mass of ice was met. After some delay in
waiting for the ice to open, Hakluyt’s Headland was reached on 14th May.
While preparations were being made to land a quantity of provisions
here, a gale came on, and forced Parry to take shelter among the
pack-ice, where he remained beset twenty-four days. Now began a search
for a suitable harbour for the _Hecla_, but it was not till the 20th
June that this was found in Treurenburg Bay. During this search Parry
reached as far north as 81° 5′, and landed a small store of provisions
on Walden Island, and another on an islet near Little Table Island.

Preparations were now made to leave the ship on the journey to the
north. Parry writes: “As it was still necessary not to delay our return
beyond the end of August, the time originally intended, I took with me
only seventy-one days’ provisions; which, including the boats and every
other article, made up a weight of 260 lb. per man; and as it appeared
highly improbable, from what we had seen of the very rugged nature of
the ice we should first have to encounter, that either the reindeer, the
snow-shoes, or the wheels would prove of any service for some time to
come, I gave up the idea of taking them. We, however, constructed out of
the snow-shoes four excellent sledges for dragging a part of our baggage
over the ice, and these proved of invaluable service to us, while the
rest of the things just mentioned would only have been an encumbrance.”

The _Hecla_ was left on the 21st June, and Low Island was reached on the
22nd. One of the ship’s cutters accompanied the two boats in order to
carry part of the provisions which were to be landed on Low Island and
on Walden Island. Open water for the boats was found until they reached
latitude 81° 12′ 51″, which was now the highest that had ever been
reached. Scoresby, in 1806, had reached 81° 12′ 42″, and with this
exception no one had ever reached the 81st degree.

Parry now writes: “Our plan of travelling being nearly the same
throughout this excursion, after we first entered upon the ice, I may at
once give some account of our usual mode of proceeding. It was my
intention to travel wholly at night, and to rest by day, there being, of
course, constant daylight in these regions during the summer season. The
advantages of this plan, which was occasionally deranged by
circumstances, consisted first, in our avoiding the intense and
oppressive glare from the snow during the time of the sun’s greatest
altitude, so as to prevent, in some degree, the painful inflammation in
the eyes, called ‘snow-blindness,’ which is common in all snowy
countries. We also thus enjoyed greater warmth during the hours of rest,
and had a better chance of drying our clothes; besides which, no small
advantage was derived from the snow being harder at night for
travelling. The only disadvantage of this plan was, that the fogs were
somewhat more frequent and more thick by night than by day, though even
in this respect there was less difference than might have been supposed,
the temperature during the twenty-four hours undergoing but little
variation. This travelling by night and sleeping by day so completely
inverted the natural order of things, that it was difficult to persuade
ourselves of the reality. Even the officers and myself, who were all
furnished with pocket chronometers, could not always bear in mind at
what part of the twenty-four hours we had arrived; and there were
several of the men who declared, and I believe truly, that they never
knew night from day during the whole excursion.

“When we rose in the evening, we commenced our day by prayers, after
which we took off our fur sleeping-dresses, and put on those for
travelling; the former being made of camblet, lined with racoon-skin,
and the latter of strong blue box-cloth. We made a point of always
putting on the same stockings and boots for travelling in, whether they
had dried during the day or not; and I believe it was only in five or
six instances, at the most, that they were not either still wet or
hard-frozen. This, indeed, was of no consequence beyond the discomfort
of first putting them on in this state, as they were sure to be
thoroughly wet in a quarter of an hour after commencing our journey;
while, on the other hand, it was of vital importance to keep dry things
for sleeping in. Being ‘rigged’ for travelling, we breakfasted upon warm
cocoa and biscuit, and after stowing the things in the boats and on the
sledges, so as to secure them, as much as possible, from wet, we set off
on our day’s journey, and usually travelled from five to five and a half
hours, then stopped an hour to dine, and again travelled four, five, or
even six hours, according to circumstances. After this we halted for the
night, as we called it, though it was usually early in the morning,
selecting the largest surface of ice we happened to be near, for hauling
the boats on, in order to avoid the danger of its breaking up by coming
in contact with other masses, and also to prevent drift as much as
possible. The boats were placed close alongside each other, with their
sterns to the wind, the snow or wet cleared out of them, and the sails,
supported by the bamboo masts and three paddles, placed over them as
awnings, an entrance being left at the bow. Every man then immediately
put on dry stockings and fur boots, after which we set about the
necessary repairs of boats, sledges, or clothes; and, after serving the
provisions for the succeeding day, we went to supper. Most of the
officers and men then smoked their pipes, which served to dry the boats
and awnings very much, and usually raised the temperature of our
lodgings 10° or 15°. This part of the twenty-four hours was often a
time, and the only one, of real enjoyment to us: the men told their
stories and ‘fought all their battles o’er again,’ and the labours of
the day, unsuccessful as they too often were, were forgotten. A regular
watch was set during our resting-time, to look out for bears or for the
ice breaking up round us, as well as to attend to the drying of the
clothes, each man alternately taking this duty for one hour. We then
concluded our day with prayers, and having put on our fur dresses, lay
down to sleep with a degree of comfort, which perhaps few persons would
imagine possible under such circumstances; our chief inconvenience
being, that we were somewhat pinched for room, and therefore obliged to
stow rather closer than was quite agreeable. The temperature, while we
slept, was usually from 36° to 45°, according to the state of the
external atmosphere; but on one or two occasions, in calm and warm
weather, it rose as high as 60° to 66°, obliging us to throw off a part
of our fur dress. After we had slept seven hours, the man appointed to
boil the cocoa roused us, when it was ready, by the sound of a bugle,
when we commenced our day in the manner before described.

“Our allowance of provisions for each man per day was as follows:—

“Biscuit, 10 oz.; pemmican, 9 oz.; sweetened cocoa-powder, 1 oz. to make
1 pint; rum, 1 gill; tobacco, 3 oz. per week.

“Our fuel consisted entirely of spirits of wine, of which 2 pints formed
our daily allowance, the cocoa being cooked in an iron boiler over a
shallow iron lamp, with seven wicks; a simple apparatus, which answered
our purpose remarkably well. We usually found 1 pint of spirits of wine
sufficient for preparing our breakfast—that is, for heating 28 pints of
water, though it always commenced from the temperature of 32°.”

They set off on their first journey over the ice on 24th June. Instead
of the fine level floes they expected, they found the ice consisting of
pieces of small extent and very rugged, obliging them to make three
journeys, and sometimes four, with the boats and baggage, and to launch
several times across narrow pools of water. They experienced a great
amount of rain, and had sometimes to wade through water from 2 to 5
inches deep upon the ice. It was rarely that they met with a surface
sufficiently level and hard to drag all their loads at one journey. Deep
soft snow was frequently met with, and proved a difficult obstacle to
overcome. At other times their way lay across small loose pieces of ice,
and the boats had to be made to serve the purpose of a bridge between
the pieces. After a laborious day’s work, they frequently found that
they had not progressed more than 2 miles. It had been calculated that
they could travel 20 miles per day over level ice. They found the
Lapland shoes, or Kamoogas, good for walking in when the snow was dry,
but when it was wet they found Esquimaux boots much superior. On the 5th
of July they had reached latitude 81° 45′ 15″, and on sounding with 400
fathoms of line failed to reach the bottom. A like result was met in
latitude 82° 17′ 10″, which was reached on 13th July. About this date
they found that they were being drifted considerably to the
south—sometimes 1 or 2 miles per day. The glare of the sun was often
very oppressive: the best preservative was found to be spectacles having
the glass of a bluish-green colour, and with side-screens to them. On
the 20th July they reached 82° 36′ 52″, less than 5 miles to the
northward of their position on the 17th, although they calculated they
certainly had travelled 12 miles. On the 25th July, Parry wrote: “So
small was the ice now around us, that we were obliged to halt for the
night at 2 a.m., being upon the only piece in sight, in any direction,
on which we could venture to trust the boats while we rested. Such was
the ice in the latitude of 82¾°!”

At noon on the 26th they found the latitude 82° 40′ 23″, and calculated
that since midnight on the 22nd they had lost no less than 13½ miles by
drift. At this time Parry writes: “It had, for some time past, been too
evident that the nature of the ice with which we had to contend was
such, and its drift to the southward, especially with a northerly wind,
so great, as to put beyond our reach anything but a very moderate share
of success in travelling to the northward. Still, however, we had been
anxious to reach the highest latitude which our means would allow, and,
with this view, although our whole object had long become unattainable,
had pushed on to the northward for thirty-five days, or until half our
resources were expended, and the middle of our season arrived. For the
last few days, the 83rd parallel was the limit to which we had ventured
to extend our hopes; but even this expectation had become considerably
weakened since the setting in of the last northerly wind, which
continued to drive us to the southward, during the necessary hours of
rest, nearly as much as we could gain by eleven or twelve hours of daily
labour. Had our success been at all proportionate to our exertions, it
was my full intention to have proceeded a few days beyond the middle of
the period for which we were provided, trusting to the resources we
expected to find at Table Island. But this was so far from being the
case, that I could not but consider it as incurring useless fatigue to
the officers and men, and unnecessary wear and tear for the boats, to
persevere any longer in the attempt. I determined, therefore, on giving
the people one entire day’s rest, which they very much needed, and time
to wash and mend their clothes, while the officers were occupied in
making all the observations which might be interesting in this latitude;
and then to set out on our return on the following day.”

The bottom was found here with 500 fathoms of line. At the extreme point
of the journey the distance from the _Hecla_ was 172 miles. To
accomplish this distance, Parry reckoned they travelled 292 miles, of
which about 100 were performed by water previous to entering the ice.
But as they travelled by far the greater part of the distance on the ice
three, and not unfrequently five times over, the total distance
estimated was 580 geographical, or 668 statute miles, being nearly
sufficient to have reached the Pole in a direct line.

Returning south, open water was reached in latitude 81° 34′, about 50
miles north of Table Island. The party had been forty-eight days on the
ice. During this journey several seals and bears were killed, and these
assisted very much both for meat and fuel. The islet at Table Island was
reached on the 12th of August, and it was found that bears had devoured
all the bread, amounting to 100 lb., left there. To this islet Parry
applied the name of Lieutenant Ross. The _Hecla_ was reached on 21st
August, after an absence of sixty-one days, and the total distance
travelled was estimated at 1127 miles. Parry writes: “Considering our
constant exposure to wet, cold, and fatigue, our stockings having
generally been drenched in snow-water for twelve hours out of every
twenty-four, I had great reason to be thankful for the excellent health
in which, upon the whole, we reached the ship. There is no doubt that we
had all become, in a certain degree, gradually weaker for some time
past; but only three men of our party now required medical care, two of
them with badly swelled legs and general debility, and the other from a
bruise; but even these three returned to their duty in a short time.”

The _Hecla_ left Treurenburg Bay on 28th August, rounded Hakluyt’s
Headland on the 30th, and arrived at Shetland on 17th September. Here
Parry left the ship, and proceeded to London _via_ Inverness.

Having finished his narrative of this attempt to reach the North Pole,
Parry makes the following observations:—

“That the object is of still more difficult attainment than was before
supposed, even by those persons who were the best qualified to judge of
it, will, I believe, appear evident from a perusal of the foregoing
pages; nor can I, after much consideration and some experience of the
various difficulties which belong to it, recommend any material
improvement in the plan lately adopted. Among the various schemes
suggested for this purpose, it has been proposed to set out from
Spitzbergen, and to make a rapid journey to the northward, with sledges,
or sledge-boats, drawn wholly by dogs or reindeer; but, however feasible
this plan may at first sight appear, I cannot say that our late
experience of the nature of the ice which they would probably have to
encounter, has been at all favourable to it. It would, of course, be a
matter of extreme imprudence to set out on this enterprise without the
means of crossing—not merely narrow pools and lanes—but more extensive
spaces of open water, such as we met with between the margin of the ice
and the Spitzbergen shores; and I do not conceive that any boat
sufficiently large to be efficient and safe for this purpose, could
possibly be managed upon the ice, were the power employed to give it
motion dependent on dogs or reindeer. On the contrary, it was a frequent
subject of remark among the officers, that reason was a qualification
scarcely less indispensable than strength and activity, in travelling
over such a road; daily instances occurring of our having to pass over
difficult places, which no other animal than man could have been easily
prevailed upon to attempt. Indeed, the constant necessity of launching
and hauling up the boats (which operations we had frequently to perform
eight or ten, and on one occasion, seventeen times in the same day)
would alone render it inexpedient, in my opinion, to depend chiefly upon
other animals; for it would certainly require more time and labour to
get them into and out of the boats, than their services in the
intervals, or their flesh ultimately used as food, would be worth;
especially when it is considered how large a weight of provender must be
carried for their own subsistence.

“In case of employing reindeer, which, from their strength, docility,
and hardy habits, appear the best suited to this kind of travelling,
there would be an evident advantage in setting out much earlier in the
year than we did; perhaps about the end of April, when the ice is less
broken up, and the snow much harder upon its surface, than at a more
advanced part of the season. But this, it must be recollected, would
involve the necessity of passing the previous winter on the northern
coast of Spitzbergen, which, even under favourable circumstances, would
probably tend to weaken in some degree the energies of the men; while,
on the other hand, it would be next to impossible to procure there a
supply of provender for a number of tame reindeer, sufficient even to
keep them alive, much less in tolerable condition, during a whole
winter. In addition to this, it may be observed, that any party setting
out earlier must be provided with a much greater weight of warm
clothing, in order to guard against the severity of the cold, and also
with an increased proportion of fuel for procuring water by the melting
of snow, there being no fresh water upon the ice, in these latitudes,
before the month of June.”

                 *        *        *        *        *

Parry’s attempt to reach the Pole, hauling heavy boats over the ice,
brings into prominence the determination and daring of English sailors.
Parry’s record of 82° 45′ remained unbroken forty-eight years, when a
new record was again made by English sailors in an exactly similar way
to that of Parry, but in a different region.

The next expedition of importance after Parry’s was that of Sir John
Franklin in search of the North-West Passage, and does not strictly come
within the scope of this book. Although the many expeditions which were
sent out in search of Franklin and his men were the means of tracing a
great extent of coast-line among the islands which lie to the north of
America, only one had any special bearing on the struggle for the Pole.
This was the one commanded by Dr. Kane, and will be treated in the next
chapter.




[Illustration: CHART OF SMITH SOUND AND KENNEDY CHANNEL.]




                               CHAPTER II
                   KANE’S EXPEDITION (1853, ’54, ’55)


In December 1852, Dr. Kane received orders from the Secretary of the
U.S. Navy to conduct an expedition to the Arctic seas in search of Sir
John Franklin. Dr. Kane’s plan of search was based upon the probable
extension of the land-masses of Greenland to the Far North—a fact at
that time not verified by travel, but sustained by the analogies of
physical geography. As inducements in favour of his scheme, he
mentioned—

“(1) _Terra firma_ as the basis of our operations, obviating the
capricious character of ice-travel.

“(2) A due northern line, which, throwing aside the influences of
terrestrial radiation, would lead soonest to the open sea, should such
exist.

“(3) The benefit of the fan-like abutment of land, on the north face of
Greenland, to check the ice in the course of its southern or equatorial
drift, thus obviating the great drawback of Parry in his attempt to
reach the Pole by the Spitzbergen Sea.

“(4) Animal life to sustain travelling parties.

“(5) The co-operation of the Esquimaux; settlements of these people
having been found as high as Whale Sound, and probably extending still
farther along the coast.

“We were to pass up Baffin’s Bay, therefore, to its most northern
attainable point; and thence, pressing on toward the Pole as far as
boats or sledges could carry us, examine the coast-lines for vestiges of
the lost party.”

Kane left New York on the 30th May 1853, in the _Advance_, a
“hermaphrodite brig of 144 tons.” The entire party numbered eighteen. At
Fiskernaes, Greenland, he engaged Hans Christian, aged nineteen, as an
Esquimaux hunter.

The pack was encountered in Melville Bay on 28th July, and Kane was
fortunate in passing through to the North Water by 4th August. Smith
Sound was entered on 7th August. A boat with a stock of provisions was
buried at the north-east point of Littleton Island, and a cairn was
erected on the western cape. About 40 miles north of Littleton Island
the ice was met, and the _Advance_ was forced into Refuge Harbour. After
a great deal of warping, the brig reached Rensselaer Harbour in latitude
78° 37′.

When Kane attained the latitude of 78° 41′, he made a curious
observation. He states: “We are farther north than any of our
predecessors, except Parry on his Spitzbergen foot-tramp.” This was far
from the truth. Much higher latitudes had been reached centuries before.
In the seventeenth century both the English and Dutch had reached a
higher latitude in the Spitzbergen Sea: Tschitschagoff in 1765 reached
80° 21′; Phipps in 1773 reached 80° 37′; and Scoresby in 1806 reached
81° 12′ 42″. Had Kane’s statement been confined to the route between
Greenland and America, it would have been correct, but referring as he
did to Parry’s Spitzbergen voyage, he was entirely astray.

When Smith Sound was reached, Kane had more than fifty dogs, but many of
them soon died. Preparations for the winter were made without delay: a
storehouse was formed on a small island in the harbour; an observatory
was built on another island; and a deck-house was made to protect the
_Advance_.

Arrangements were then made to form provision-dépôts along the Greenland
coast for the purpose of northern exploration. The first dépôt party
left on the 20th of September, and returned on the 15th of October. On
the 25th of September this party reached Cape Russell, where the first
cache of pemmican, together with some bread and alcohol for fuel, was
made. A second cache was made at Cape Bonsall, about 30 miles to the
north-east of the first dépôt. They reached their highest latitude, 79°
50′, on 6th October. A third cache was placed on a low island near the
Humboldt Glacier.

A sunless winter of one hundred and forty days now closed upon them. The
influence of the long, intense darkness was found most depressing. Most
of the dogs died during this winter from convulsions. The temperature
went down to as low as 68° F. below zero during February. The dreadful
scurvy made its appearance, and by the middle of March only two members
of the party were free of it. The supplies of the expedition were found
to be altogether inadequate, both as regard provisions and fuel. On the
19th of March 1854, the first spring party left the brig, with the
object of forming more dépôts. The temperature was about 40° F. below
zero. On 31st March three of this party made their appearance at the
brig unexpectedly. Kane graphically describes the incident: “They were
swollen and haggard, and hardly able to speak. Their story was a fearful
one. They had left their companions in the ice, risking their own lives
to bring us the news: Brooks, Baker, Wilson, and Pierre were all lying
frozen and disabled. Where? They could not tell: somewhere in among the
hummocks to the north and east: it was drifting heavily round them when
they parted. Irish Tom had stayed by to feed and care for the others;
but the chances were sorely against them. It was in vain to question
them further. They had evidently travelled a great distance, for they
were sinking with fatigue and hunger, and could hardly be rallied enough
to tell us the direction in which they had come. My first impulse was to
move on the instant with an unencumbered party: a rescue, to be
effective or even hopeful, could not be too prompt. What pressed on my
mind most was, where the sufferers were to be looked for among the
drifts. Ohlsen seemed to have his faculties rather more at command than
his associates, and I thought that he might assist us as a guide; but he
was sinking with exhaustion, and if he went with us we must carry him.
There was not a moment to be lost. While some were still busy with the
newcomers and getting ready a hasty meal, others were rigging out the
‘Little Willie’ with a buffalo-cover, a small tent, and a package of
pemmican; and, as soon as we could hurry through our arrangements,
Ohlsen was strapped on in a fur bag, his legs wrapped in dog-skins and
eider-down, and we were off upon the ice. Our party consisted of nine
men and myself. We carried only the clothes on our backs. The
thermometer stood at −46°, 78 degrees below the freezing-point. A
well-known peculiar tower of ice, called by the men the ‘Pinnacly Berg,’
served as our first landmark: other icebergs of colossal size, which
stretched in long beaded lines across the bay, helped to guide us
afterward; and it was not until we had travelled for sixteen hours that
we began to lose our way. We knew that our lost companions must be
somewhere in the area before us, within a radius of 40 miles. Mr.
Ohlsen, who had been for fifty hours without rest, fell asleep as soon
as we began to move, and awoke now with unequivocal signs of mental
disturbance. It became evident that he had lost the bearing of the
icebergs, which in form and colour endlessly repeated themselves; and
the uniformity of the vast field of snow utterly forbade the hope of
local landmarks.

“Pushing ahead of the party, and clambering over some rugged ice-piles,
I came to a long level floe, which I thought might probably have
attracted the eyes of weary men in circumstances like our own. It was a
light conjecture; but it was enough to turn the scale, for there was no
other to balance it. I gave orders to abandon the sledge, and disperse
in search of footmarks. We raised our tent, placed our pemmican in
cache, except a small allowance for each man to carry on his person; and
poor Ohlsen, now just able to keep his legs, was liberated from his bag.
The thermometer had fallen by this time to −49.3°, and the wind was
setting in sharply from the north-west. It was out of the question to
halt: it required brisk exercise to keep us from freezing. I could not
even melt ice for water; and, at these temperatures, any resort to snow
for the purpose of allaying thirst was followed by bloody lips and
tongue: it burnt like caustic.

“It was indispensable, then, that we should move on, looking out for
traces as we went. Yet when the men were ordered to spread themselves,
so as to multiply the chances, though they all obeyed heartily, some
painful impress of solitary danger, or perhaps it may have been the
varying configuration of the ice-field, kept them closing up continually
into a single group. The strange manner in which some of us were
affected I now attribute as much to shattered nerves as to the direct
influence of the cold. Men like McGary and Bonsall, who had stood out
our severest marches, were seized with trembling-fits and short breath;
and, in spite of all my efforts to keep up an example of sound bearing,
I fainted twice on the snow.

“We had been nearly eighteen hours out without water or food, when a new
hope cheered us. I think it was Hans, our Esquimaux hunter, who thought
he saw a broad sledge-track. The drift had nearly effaced it, and we
were some of us doubtful at first whether it was not one of those
accidental rifts which the gales make in the surface-snow. But, as we
traced on to the deep snow among the hummocks, we were led to footsteps;
and, following these with religious care, we at last came in sight of a
small American flag fluttering from a hummock, and lower down a little
Masonic banner hanging from a tent-pole hardly above the drift. It was
the camp of our disabled comrades: we reached it after an unbroken march
of twenty-one hours. The little tent was nearly covered. I was not among
the first to come up; but, when I reached the tent-curtain, the men were
standing in silent file on each side of it. With more kindness and
delicacy of feeling than is often supposed to belong to sailors, but
which is almost characteristic, they intimated their wish that I should
go in alone. As I crawled in, and, coming upon the darkness, heard
before me the burst of welcome gladness that came from the four poor
fellows stretched on their backs, and then for the first time the cheer
outside, my weakness and my gratitude together almost overcame me. ‘They
had expected me: they were sure I would come!’

“We were now fifteen souls; the thermometer 75° below the
freezing-point; and our sole accommodation a tent barely able to contain
eight persons: more than half our party were obliged to keep from
freezing by walking outside while the others slept. We could not halt
long. Each of us took a turn of two hours sleep; and we prepared for our
homeward march.

“We took with us nothing but the tent, furs to protect the rescued
party, and food for a journey of fifty hours. Everything else was
abandoned. Two large buffalo-bags, each made of four skins, were doubled
up, so as to form a sort of sack, lined on each side by fur, closed at
the bottom, but opened at the top. This was laid on the sledge; the
tent, smoothly folded, serving as a floor. The sick, with their limbs
sewed up carefully in reindeer-skins, were placed upon the bed of
buffalo-robes, in a half-reclining posture; other skins and blanket-bags
were thrown above them; and the whole litter was lashed together so as
to allow but a single opening opposite the mouth for breathing.

“This necessary work cost us a great deal of time and effort; but it was
essential to the lives of the sufferers. It took us no less than four
hours to strip and refresh them, and then to embale them in the manner I
have described. Few of us escaped without frost-bitten fingers: the
thermometer was at 55.6° below zero, and a slight wind added to the
severity of the cold.

“It was completed at last, however: all hands stood around; and, after
repeating a short prayer, we set out on our retreat. It was fortunate
indeed that we were not inexperienced in sledging over the ice. A great
part of our track lay among a succession of hummocks; some of them
extending in long lines, 15 and 20 feet high, and so uniformly steep
that we had to turn them by a considerable deviation from our direct
course; others that we forced our way through, far above our heads in
height, lying in parallel ridges, with the space between too narrow for
the sledge to be lowered into it safely, and yet not wide enough for the
runners to cross without the aid of ropes to stay them. These spaces,
too, were generally choked with light snow, hiding the openings between
the ice-fragments. They were fearful traps to disengage a limb from, for
every man knew that a fracture or a sprain even would cost him his life.
Besides all this, the sledge was top-heavy with its load: the maimed men
could not bear to be lashed down tight enough to secure them against
falling off. Notwithstanding our caution in rejecting every superfluous
burden, the weight, including bags and tent, was 1100 pounds.

“And yet our march for the first six hours was very cheering. We made by
vigorous pulls and lifts nearly a mile an hour, and reached the new
floes before we were absolutely weary. Our sledge sustained the trial
admirably. Ohlsen, restored by hope, walked steadily at the leading belt
of the sledge-lines; and I began to feel certain of reaching our
half-way station of the day before, where we had left our tent. But we
were still 9 miles from it, when, almost without premonition, we all
became aware of an alarming failure of our energies.

“I was, of course, familiar with the benumbed and almost lethargic
sensation of extreme cold; and once, when exposed for some hours in the
midwinter of Baffin’s Bay, I had experienced symptoms which I compared
to the diffused paralysis of the electro-galvanic shock. But I had
treated the _sleepy comfort_ of freezing as something like the
embellishment of romance. I had evidence now to the contrary.

“Bonsall and Morton, two of our stoutest men, came to me, begging
permission to sleep: ‘they were not cold: the wind did not enter them
now: a little sleep was all they wanted.’ Presently Hans was found
nearly stiff under a drift; and Thomas, bolt upright, had his eyes
closed, and could hardly articulate. At last, John Blake threw himself
on the snow, and refused to rise. They did not complain of feeling cold;
but it was in vain that I wrestled, boxed, ran, argued, jeered, or
reprimanded: an immediate halt could not be avoided.

“We pitched our tent with much difficulty. Our hands were too powerless
to strike a fire; we were obliged to do without water or food. Even the
spirits (whisky) had frozen at the men’s feet, under all the coverings.
We put Bonsall, Ohlsen, Thomas, and Hans, with the other sick men, well
inside the tent, and crowded in as many others as we could. Then,
leaving the party in charge of Mr. McGary, with orders to come on after
four hours’ rest, I pushed ahead with William Godfrey, who volunteered
to be my companion. My aim was to reach the half-way tent, and thaw some
ice and pemmican before the others arrived.

“The floe was of level ice, and the walking excellent. I cannot tell how
long it took us to make the 9 miles; for we were in a strange sort of
stupor, and had little apprehension of time. It was probably about four
hours. We kept ourselves awake by imposing on each other a continued
articulation of words; they must have been incoherent enough. I recall
these hours as among the most wretched I have ever gone through: we were
neither of us in our right senses, and retained a very confused
recollection of what preceded our arrival at the tent. We both of us,
however, remember a bear, who walked leisurely before us and tore up as
he went a jumper that Mr. McGary had improvidently thrown off the day
before. He tore it into shreds and rolled it into a ball, but never
offered to interfere with our progress. I remember this, and with it a
confused sentiment that our tent and buffalo-robes might probably share
the same fate. Godfrey, with whom the memory of this day’s work may
atone for many faults of a later time, had a better eye than myself;
and, looking some miles ahead, he could see that our tent was undergoing
the same unceremonious treatment. I thought I saw it too, but we were so
drunken with cold that we strode on steadily, and, for aught I know,
without quickening our pace.

“Probably our approach saved the contents of the tent; for when we
reached it the tent was uninjured, though the bear had overturned it,
tossing the buffalo-robes and pemmican into the snow: we missed only a
couple of blanket-bags. What we recollect, however, and perhaps all we
recollect, is, that we had great difficulty in raising it. We crawled
into our reindeer sleeping-bags, without speaking, and for the next
three hours slept on in a dreamy but intense slumber. When I awoke, my
long beard was a mass of ice, frozen fast to the buffalo-skin: Godfrey
had to cut me out with his jack-knife. Four days after our escape, I
found my woollen comfortable with a goodly share of my beard still
adhering to it.

“We were able to melt water and get some soup cooked before the rest of
our party arrived: it took them but five hours to walk the 9 miles. They
were doing well, and, considering the circumstances, in wonderful
spirits. The day was most providentially windless, with a clear sun. All
enjoyed the refreshment we had got ready: the crippled were repacked in
their robes; and we sped briskly toward the hummock-ridges which lay
between us and the Pinnacly Berg.

“The hummocks we had now to meet came properly under the designation of
squeezed ice. A great chain of bergs stretching from north-west to
south-east, moving with the tides, had compressed the surface-floes; and
rearing them up on their edges, produced an area more like the volcanic
pedragal of the basin of Mexico than anything else I can compare it to.

“It required desperate efforts to work our way over it,—literally
desperate, for our strength failed us anew, and we began to lose our
self-control. We could not abstain any longer from eating snow: our
mouths swelled, and some of us became speechless. Happily the day was
warmed by a clear sunshine, and the thermometer rose to −4° in the
shade: otherwise we must have frozen.

“Our halts multiplied, and we fell half sleeping on the snow. I could
not prevent it. Strange to say, it refreshed us. I ventured upon the
experiment myself, making Riley wake me at the end of three minutes; and
I felt so much benefited by it that I timed the men in the same way.
They sat on the runners of the sledge, fell asleep instantly, and were
forced to wakefulness when their three minutes were out.

“By eight in the evening we emerged from the floes. The sight of the
Pinnacly Berg revived us. Brandy, an invaluable resource in emergency,
had already been served out in tablespoonful doses. We now took a longer
rest, and a last stouter dram, and reached the brig at 1 p.m., we
believe without a halt.

“I say _we believe_; and here perhaps is the most decided proof of our
sufferings: we were quite delirious, and had ceased to entertain a sane
apprehension of the circumstances about us. We moved on like men in a
dream. Our footmarks seen afterward showed that we had steered a
bee-line for the brig. It must have been by a sort of instinct, for it
left no impress on the memory. Bonsall was sent staggering ahead, and
reached the brig, God knows how, for he had fallen repeatedly at the
track-lines; but he delivered with punctilious accuracy the messages I
had sent by him to Dr. Hayes. I thought myself the soundest of all, for
I went through all the formula of sanity, and can recall the muttering
delirium of my comrades when we got back into the cabin of our brig. Yet
I have been told since of some speeches and some orders too of mine,
which I should have remembered for their absurdity if my mind had
retained its balance.

“Petersen and Whipple came out to meet us about 2 miles from the brig.
They brought my dog-team, with the restoratives I had sent for by
Bonsall. I do not remember their coming. Dr. Hayes entered with
judicious energy upon the treatment our condition called for,
administering morphine freely, after the usual frictions. He reported
none of our brain-symptoms as serious, referring them properly to the
class of those indications of exhausted power which yield to generous
diet and rest. Mr. Ohlsen suffered some time from strabismus and
blindness; two others underwent amputation of parts of the foot, without
unpleasant consequences; and two died in spite of all our efforts. This
rescue party had been out for seventy-two hours. We had halted in all
eight hours, half of our number sleeping at a time. We travelled between
80 and 90 miles, most of the way dragging a heavy sledge. The mean
temperature of the whole time, including the warmest hours of three
days, was at −41.2°. We had no water except at our two halts, and were
at no time able to intermit vigorous exercise without freezing.”

About the beginning of April 1854, Esquimaux made their appearance. For
some time they caused trouble through stealing everything they could.
Great tact was necessary in dealing with them, but this Dr. Kane
possessed, and he was ultimately successful in making them close
friends.

On 25th April, the advance party of the next sledging expedition left
the brig, and was joined later by Dr. Kane. Deep snow was encountered,
and several of the party began to show signs of the dreaded scurvy. A
cache of provisions on which they intended to rely was found to have
been almost entirely destroyed by bears. Dr. Kane himself became ill,
and the whole party had to return when in the neighbourhood of the great
glacier of Humboldt. They cached some of their stores, and an
india-rubber boat, near Dallas Bay, in lat. 79.5°, long. 66°.

On the 20th May another sledge-party was sent off, and consisted of Dr.
Hayes and William Godfrey. They were to cross Smith’s Straits above the
inlet and make as near as possible a straight course for Cape Sabine.
This they accomplished with great difficulty, and proceeded north on the
ice along the west coast as far as latitude 79° 45′. They then returned
south as far as Cape Sabine, and recrossed the straits, arriving at the
brig on 1st June. This was a remarkable journey. The equipment was as
follows:—a light sledge and team of seven dogs, 80 lb. of pemmican, 16
lb. of bread, 18 lb. of lard and rope-yarn for fuel; a reindeer-skin
sleeping-bag for each, a lamp and pot for cooking, sextant,
pocket-compass, telescope, Sharpe’s rifle, two extra pairs of stockings
and one of boots for each. About the third day Dr. Hayes suffered from
snow-blindness, and this caused some delay. The dogs’ harness lines had
to be frequently repaired, which could only be done ultimately by
cutting strips from Godfrey’s seal-skin trousers. Great hummocks of ice
from 20 to 40 feet in height were encountered. In crossing these ridges
the sledge frequently capsized and rolled over and over, dogs, cargo,
and all. In twelve days a distance not less than 400 miles was covered;
the last day’s travel, when provisions ran short, was 70 miles.

Dr. Kane had not completed the entire circuit of the frozen waters of
Smith Sound. He could not yet say whether it was landlocked or whether a
channel existed still farther to the north. This he determined to
discover. McGary, Bonsall, Hickey, and Riley were detailed for the first
section of the new parties. They were accompanied by Morton, who had
orders to keep himself as fresh as possible, so as to enter on his
farthest north reach in the best possible condition.

They left the vessel on the 4th of June, and made for the Humboldt
Glacier. Here Morton was joined by Hans with the dog-sledge, and the two
set out on the 18th June, pursuing a northerly course nearly parallel
with the glacier, and from 4 to 7 miles distant from it, according to
the condition of the ice. The icebergs given off by the glacier
presented great difficulties, but these were finally overcome. On the
21st of June, Kennedy Channel was sighted, and they directed their
course towards the cape at the eastern side of the entrance—Cape Andrew
Jackson. Here they found open water, and it was with great difficulty
that the cape was rounded. Still proceeding north, they reached Cape
Constitution in latitude 81° 22′. An attempt to pass this cape failed.
Morton climbed up the cliff to a height of 500 feet, and could get no
farther. As far as he could see not a speck of ice was visible. He
stated: “As far as I could discern, the sea was open, a swell coming in
from the northward and running crosswise, as if with a small eastern
set. The wind was due north—enough of it to make white caps—and the
surf broke in on the rocks below in regular breakers. The sky to the
north-west was of dark rain-cloud, the first that I had seen since the
brig was frozen up. Ivory gulls were nesting in the rocks above me, and
out to sea were mollemoke and silver-backed gulls. The ducks had not
been seen north of the first island of the channel, but petrel and gulls
hung about the waves near the coast.”

Morton was absent on this journey thirty days. The open condition of
Kennedy Channel, discovered by him, had a most important bearing on some
of the expeditions which followed Kane’s. It gave strong support to the
theory of an open polar sea, which was believed in by many until the
British Expedition of 1875. Dr. Kane himself wavered between the
arguments for and against. He, however, was aware of the fact that open
water, which had frequently been described as a polar sea, had been
found by many explorers in various parts of the Arctic regions, which on
further investigation was found to be merely temporary. And Dr. Kane,
after referring to this fact, wrote: “All these illusory discoveries
were no doubt chronicled with perfect integrity; and it may seem to
others, as since I have left the field it sometimes does to myself, that
my own, though on a larger scale, may one day pass within the same
category.”

All the sledge-parties had now returned to the brig, and the season of
Arctic travel had ended. The question now to be faced was how they were
to pass a second winter in the event of the ice not liberating the brig,
which seemed likely. As Dr. Kane remarked, “there never was, and I trust
never will be, a party worse armed for the encounter of a second Arctic
winter. We have neither health, fuel, nor provisions.”

He first determined to examine the condition of the ice to the south. He
found that for 35 miles the straits were absolutely tight. He then
resolved to make an attempt to communicate with Beechy Island and obtain
assistance from Sir Edward Belcher’s squadron, which was in search of
Franklin in Wellington Channel. A whale-boat was mounted on a sledge,
and Kane with five of his men started off on the tremendous undertaking.
On some rocky islets near Littleton Island over 200 eider ducks were
killed in a few hours. They ultimately reached within 10 miles of Cape
Parry, but were stopped there by a solid mass of ice. They returned to
Northumberland Island, and obtained an abundance of auks and eiders. The
ice still remaining solid, they decided to return to the brig. There was
still no sign of the ice breaking up. On 15th August, Dr. Kane wrote:
“The season travels on: the young ice grows thicker, and my messmates’
faces grow longer, every day. I have again to play buffoon to keep up
the spirits of the party.” On the 18th of August the amount of wood was
reduced to 6 lb. a meal. A suggestion was now made by some of the party
that an effort should be made to reach the Danish settlements. On 24th
August, Dr. Kane called all hands and frankly explained his reasons
which determined him to remain with the brig. He gave his permission,
however, to such as were desirous of making the attempt to reach the
settlements to do so. Eight men decided to remain with Dr. Kane. The
others received a liberal share of the resources, and left the brig on
28th August. One of this party—George Riley—returned a few days
afterwards. Dr. Kane now took steps to make the brig as warm as possible
in view of the fact that there was little fuel left. Moss and turf were
collected with which the quarter-deck was well padded. A space about 18
feet square was enclosed below, and this was packed from floor to
ceiling with inner walls of the same material. The floor was covered 2
inches deep with oakum, on the top of which was placed a canvas carpet.
The entrance to this space was from the hold by a low moss-lined tunnel.
The whole arrangement was an imitation of the igloë of the Esquimaux.
The outer-deck planking of the brig was now stripped off and stacked for
firewood. On the 11th September the stock of game consisted of six
long-tailed ducks and three ptarmigan.

Soon after this, Dr. Kane started with Hans to try and obtain seal in
the open water some distance from the brig. Seal were sighted, but
before they could be reached the ice became thin and dangerous. An
attempt was made to reach a solid floe, but when within 50 paces from
it, the sledges broke through. What followed is best described in Dr.
Kane’s own words: “My first thought was to liberate the dogs. I leaned
forward to cut poor Tood’s traces, and the next minute was swimming in a
little circle of pasty ice and water alongside him. Hans, dear good
fellow, drew near to help me, uttering piteous expressions in broken
English; but I ordered him to throw himself on his belly, with his hands
and legs extended, and to make for the island by cogging himself forward
with his jack-knife. In the meantime—a mere instant—I was floundering
about with sledge, dogs, and lines, in confused puddle around me. I
succeeded in cutting poor Tood’s lines and letting him scramble to the
ice, for the poor fellow was drowning me with his piteous caresses, and
made my way for the sledge; but I found that it would not buoy me, and
that I had no resource but to try the circumference of the hole. Around
this I paddled faithfully, the miserable ice always yielding when my
hopes of a lodgement were greatest. During this process I enlarged my
circle of operations to a very uncomfortable diameter, and was beginning
to feel weaker after every effort. Hans meanwhile had reached the firm
ice, and was on his knees, like a good Moravian, praying incoherently in
English and Esquimaux; at every fresh crushing-in of the ice he would
ejaculate ‘God!’ and when I recommenced my paddling he recommenced his
prayers.

“I was nearly gone. My knife had been lost in cutting out the dogs; and
a spare one which I carried in my trousers-pocket was so enveloped in
the wet skins that I could not reach it. I owed my extrication at last
to a newly broken team-dog who was still fast to the sledge, and in
struggling carried one of the runners chock against the edge of the
circle. All my previous attempts to use the sledge as a bridge had
failed, for it broke through, to the much greater injury of the ice. I
felt that it was a last chance. I threw myself on my back, so as to
lessen as much as possible my weight, and placed the nape of my neck
against the rim or edge of the ice; then with caution slowly bent my
leg, and, placing the ball of my moccasined foot against the sledge, I
pressed steadily against the runner, listening to the half-yielding
crunch of the ice beneath.

“Presently I felt that my head was pillowed by the ice, and that my wet
fur jumper was sliding up the surface. Next came my shoulders; they were
fairly on. One more decided push, and I was launched up on the ice, and
safe.”

On 5th October the stock of fresh meat consisted of one rabbit and three
ducks. On the 7th they were fortunate in killing a bear.

Darkness was now creeping in on them, and some remarks of Kane on the
Arctic night are well worth quoting: “The intense beauty of the Arctic
firmament can hardly be imagined. It looked close above our heads, with
its stars magnified in glory, and the very planets twinkling so much as
to baffle the observations of our astronomer. I am afraid to speak of
some of these night-scenes. I have trodden the deck and the floes, when
the life of earth seemed suspended, its movements, its sounds, its
colouring, its companionships; and as I looked on the radiant
hemisphere, circling above me as if rendering worship to the unseen
Centre of light, I have ejaculated in humility of spirit, ‘Lord, what is
man that Thou art mindful of him?’ And then I have thought of the kindly
world we had left, with its revolving sunshine and shadow; and the other
stars that gladden it in their changes, and the hearts that warmed to us
there; till I lost myself in memories of those who are not;—and they
bore me back to the stars again.”

By the beginning of December, scurvy was making sad inroads among the
party. On the 2nd, Dr. Kane wrote: “Had to put Mr. McGary and Riley
under active treatment for scurvy. Gums retracted, ankles swollen, and
bad lumbago. Mr. Wilson’s case, a still worse one, has been brought
under. Morton’s is a saddening one: I cannot afford to lose him. He is
not only one of my most intelligent men, but he is daring, cool, and
everyway trustworthy. His tendon Achilles has been completely
perforated, and the surface of the heel-bone exposed. An operation in
cold, darkness, and privation would probably bring on locked-jaw. Brooks
grows discouraged: the poor fellow has scurvy in his stump, and his leg
is drawn up by the contraction of the flexors at the knee-joint. This is
the third case on board—the fourth if I include my own—of contracted
tendons.”

On the 7th of December, Bonsall and Petersen, two of the party that left
Kane on 28th August, returned to the brig, and the remainder of the
party arrived on the 12th. They had gone through a terrible trial. When
they arrived at the brig, the thermometer was at −50°; they were covered
with rime and snow, and were fainting with hunger. They had journeyed
350 miles, and their last run from the bay near Etah, some 70 miles in a
straight line, was through the hummocks at this appalling temperature.
For more than two months they had lived on frozen seal and walrus-meat.

Food for the whole party became more and more scarce, and Dr. Kane
determined to make a journey to Etah in order to obtain assistance from
the Esquimaux, if possible. His views on sledging at this period are
interesting: “My plans for sledging, simple as I once thought them, and
simple certainly as compared with those of the English parties, have
completely changed. Give me an 8 lb. reindeer-fur bag to sleep in, an
Esquimaux lamp with a lump of moss, a sheet iron snow-melter or a copper
soup-pot, with a tin cylinder to slip over it and defend it from the
wind, a good _pièce de résistance_ of raw walrus-beef; and I want
nothing more for a long journey, if the thermometer will keep itself as
high as minus 30°. Give me a bear-skin bag and coffee to boot; and with
the clothes on my back I am ready for minus 60°,—but no wind.

“The programme runs after this fashion. Keep the blood in motion,
without loitering on the march: and for the halt, raise a snow-house; or
if the snow lie scant or impracticable, ensconce yourself in a burrow or
under the hospitable lee of an inclined hummock-slab. The outside fat of
your walrus sustains your little moss fire: its frozen slices give you
bread, its frozen blubber gives you butter, its scrag ends make the
soup. The snow supplies you with water; and when you are ambitious of
coffee there is a bagful stowed away in your boot. Spread out your
bear-bag, your only heavy movable; stuff your reindeer-bag inside, hang
your boots up outside, take a blade of bone, and scrape off all the ice
from your furs. Now crawl in, the whole party of you, feet foremost;
draw the top of your dormitory close, heading to leeward. Fancy yourself
in Sybaris; and, if you are only tired enough, you may sleep—like St.
Lawrence on his grid-iron, or even a trifle better.”

On 17th January 1855, Dr. Kane wrote: “There is no evading it any
longer: it has been evident for the past ten days that the present state
of things cannot last. We require meat, and cannot get along without it.
Our sick have finished the bear’s head, and are now eating the condemned
abscessed liver of the animal, including some intestines that were not
given to the dogs. We have about three days’ allowance; thin chips of
raw frozen meat, not exceeding 4 oz. in weight for each man per day.”

On 22nd January, Kane and Hans left the brig to make an attempt to reach
Etah. Unfortunately, a severe snowstorm came on soon after they reached
a half-way hut. After being storm-bound two days, they attempted to push
on, but found that the snow had accumulated to such an extent that it
was impossible to complete the journey. They returned to the hut, and
next day tried the land-ice, but in vain. Kane, however, climbed a hill
from which he discovered a trough through the hummock-ridges, and level
plains of ice stretching to the south. Had the dogs not been disabled
and the moonlight waning, they could now have made the journey; but as
it was, they were forced to return to the brig, which they reached
thoroughly exhausted.

Petersen and Hans started on 3rd February to make another attempt. They
returned on the 5th, having found that the snow had become impassable.
At this time only five of the party were able to work, and even these
were not free from scurvy. On 28th February Kane had to report: “The
scurvy is steadily gaining on us. I do my best to sustain the more
desperate cases; but as fast as I partially build up one, another is
stricken down. The disease is perhaps less malignant than it was, but it
is more diffused throughout our party. Except William Morton, who is
disabled by a frozen heel, not one of our eighteen is exempt. Of the six
workers of our party, as I counted them a month ago, two are unable to
do outdoor work, and the remaining four divide the duties of the ship
among them. Hans musters his remaining energies to conduct the hunt.
Petersen is his disheartened, moping assistant. The other two, Bonsall
and myself, have all the daily offices of household and hospital. We
chop five large sacks of ice, cut 6 fathoms of 8-inch hawser into junks
of a foot each, serve out the meat when we have it, hack at the
molasses, and hew out with crowbar and axe the pork and dried apples,
pass up the foul slop and cleansings of our dormitory; and in a word,
cook, _scullionise_, and attend the sick. Added to this, for five nights
running I have kept watch from 8 p.m. to 4 a.m., catching cat-naps as I
could in the day without changing my clothes, but carefully waking every
hour to note thermometers.”

Such was the stuff of which Dr. Kane was made!

On the 6th of March, Kane made the desperate venture of sending Hans,
the only effective huntsman, on a sledge-journey to find the Esquimaux
of Etah. He took with him the two surviving dogs in the lightest sledge.
He returned on the 10th, having made the journey successfully. He found
that the plight of the Esquimaux, so far as food was concerned, had been
worse than those at the brig. Hans, however, assisted in a walrus-hunt,
and with his rifle succeeded in killing a walrus. With his share of the
meat he returned to the brig, where he was heartily welcomed.

By the end of March, Kane was able to hope that the scurvy was abating.
In his journal on 3rd April, he gives a description of the daily
routine:—

“At 7.30 call ‘all hands’; which means that one of the well trio wakes
the other two. This order is obeyed slowly. The commander confesses for
himself that the breakfast is well-nigh upon table before he gets his
stiff ankles to the floor. Looking around, he sees the usual mosaic of
sleepers as ingeniously dovetailed and crowded together as the
campers-out in a buffalo-bag. He winds his way through them, and, as he
does so, some stereotyped remarks are interchanged. ‘Thomas!’—our
ex-cook, now side by side with the first officer of the
expedition,—‘Thomas, turn out!’ ‘Eugh-ng, sir.’ ‘Turn out; get up.’
‘Ys-sir;’ (sits bolt upright and rubs his eyes.) ‘How d’you feel, Mr.
Ohlsen?’ ‘Better, sir.’ ‘How’ve you passed the night, Mr. Brooks?’
‘Middlin’, sir.’ And, after a diversified series of spavined efforts,
the mystical number forms its triangle at the table.

“It still stands in its simple dignity, an unclothed platform of boards,
with a pile of plates in the centre. Near these is a virtuoso collection
of cups grouped in a tumulus or cairn, commencing philosophically at the
base with heavy stoneware, and ending with battered tin: the absolute
pinnacle a debased dredging-box, which makes a bad goblet, being
unpleasantly sharp at its rim. At one end of this table, partly hid by
the beer-barrel, stands Petersen; at the side, Bonsall; and a limejuice
cask opposite marks my seat. We are all standing: a momentary hush is
made among the sick; and the daily prayer comes with one heart:—‘Accept
our gratitude, and restore us to our homes.’

“The act of devotion over, we sit down, and look—not at the breakfast,
but at each other.

“It may sound absurd to those who cannot understand the narrowing
interest which we three availables feel in our continued mutual ability,
for me to say that we spend the first five minutes in a detail of
symptoms. The state of each man’s gums and shins and ankles, his elbows,
loins, and kidneys, is canvassed minutely and compared with his
yesterday’s report: the recital might edify a specialist who was anxious
to register the Protean indications of scurvy. It is sometimes
ludicrous, but always sad.

“Now for the bill of fare. ‘Who cooked?’—I am describing a
gala-day.—‘It was Morton: he felt so much better that he got up at six;
but he caved in soon after’:—

“First, coffee, great comforter to hard-worked men; one part of the
genuine berry to three of navy-beans; next, sugar: what complex memories
the word brings back!—the veritable sugar has been long ago defunct;
but we have its representative molasses twice a week in our tea. Third,
butter; there it is in a mutilated vegetable-dish; my own invention,
melted from salt beef and washed in many waters: the unskilled might
call it tallow. Fourth, a real delicacy not to be surpassed in court or
camp, for Morton was up to see to it:—a pile of hot rolls of fine
Virginia flour. What else? Nothing else: the breakfast resolves itself
into bean-coffee, tallow, and hot bread. Yet a cordial meal it is. I am
sorry to hurry over it so uncourteously, for I could dwell with Charles
Lamb’s pensive enthusiasm upon the fleshpots; but I have been longer in
describing the feast than it takes us to dispose of it. I hurry on with
the interesting detail. Dinner is breakfast, with the beans converted
into soup instead of coffee; and supper boasts of stewed apples.

“Work commences at nine. Petersen is off with his gun, and the two
remaining dearly beloved Rogers arrange their carte: one makes the round
of the sick and deals out their daily allowance of raw meat; the other
goes to cutting ice. Those who can sit in bed and work, pick eider-down
or cotton, for coverlets to our boat-bedding on the escape; others sew
canvas bags for the same purpose; and Brooks balls off twine in order to
lay up ‘small stuff.’

“At times when the sun comes out very brightly, Brooks and Wilson get
permission to go on deck. One of us assists them, and, by the aid of
creeping and crawling, these poor cripples manage to sit upon the
combings of the hatch and look around in the glorious daylight. The
sight seldom fails to affect them. There are emotions among rude,
roughly nurtured men which vent themselves in true poetry. Brooks has
about him sensibilities that shame me.

“This afternoon, save to the cook, is a season of rest; a real lazy,
lounging interval, arrested by the call to supper. The coming
night-watch obliges me to take an evening cat-nap. I state this by way
of implying that I never sleep o’ daytimes.

“After supper, we have a better state of things than two weeks ago. Then
the few tired-out workers were regaled by the groans and tossings of the
sick. There was little conversation, and the physiognomy of our
smoke-blackened little den was truly dismal. Now daylight pours in from
the scuttle, the tea-kettle sings upon the stove, the convalescents rise
up on their elbows and spin merry yarns. We are not yet sufficiently
jolly for cards; but we are sufficiently thankful to do without them. At
nine, silence almost unbroken prevails throughout our dormitory, and the
watch-officer slips on his bear-skin, and, full of thoughts of
to-morrow, resigns himself to a round of little routine observances, the
most worthless of which is this unbroken record of the changing days.”

Kane now became convinced that the brig had little chance of being
released from the ice, and he began preparations for a retreat by boat
to the Danish settlement of Upernavik.

“Canvas moccasins had been made for every one of the party, and three
dozen were added as a common stock to meet emergencies. Three pairs of
boots were allowed each man. These were generally of carpeting, with
soles of walrus and seal-hide; and when the supply of these gave out,
the leather from the chafing-gear of the brig for a time supplied their
place. A much better substitute was found afterward in the gutta-percha
that had formed the speaking-tube. This was softened by warm water, cut
into lengths, and so made available to its new uses. Blankets were
served out as the material for body-clothing: every man was his own
tailor. For bedding, the woollen curtains that had formerly decorated
our berths supplied us with a couple of large coverlets, which were
abundantly quilted with eider-down. Two buffalo-robes of the same size
with the coverlets were arranged so as to button on them, forming
sleeping-sacks for the occasion, but easily detached for the purpose of
drying or airing.

“Our provision-bags were of assorted sizes, to fit under the thwarts of
the boats. They were of sail-cloth made water-tight by tar and pitch,
which we kept from penetrating the canvas by first coating it with
flour-paste and plaster of Paris. The bread-bags were double, the inner
saturated with paste and plaster by boiling in the mixture, and the
space between the two filled with pitch. Every bag was, in
sailor-phrase, roped and becketed; in ordinary parlance, well secured by
cordage.

“These different manufactures had all of them been going on through the
winter, and more rapidly as the spring advanced. They had given
employment to the thoughts of our sick men, and in this way had exerted
a wholesome influence on their moral tone and assisted their
convalescence. Other preparations had been begun more recently. The
provisions for the descent were to be got ready and packed. The
ship-bread was powdered by beating it with a capstan-bar, and pressed
down into the bags which were to carry it. Pork-fat and tallow were
melted down, and poured into other bags to freeze. A stock of
concentrated bean-soup was cooked, and secured for carriage like the
pork-fat; and the flour and remaining meat-biscuit were to be protected
from moisture in double bags. These were the only provisions we were to
carry with us. I knew I should be able to subsist the party for some
time after their setting out by the food I could bring from the vessel
by occasional trips with my dog-team. For the rest, we relied upon our
guns.

“Besides all this, we had our camp equipage to get in order, and the
vitally important organisation of our system of boats and sledges.

“Our boats were three in number, all of them well battered by exposure
to ice and storm, almost as destructive of their sea-worthiness as the
hot sun of other regions. Two of them were cypress whale-boats, 26 feet
long, with 7 feet beam, and 3 feet deep. These were strengthened with
oak bottom-pieces and a long string-piece bolted to the keel. A
washboard of light cedar, about 6 inches high, served to strengthen the
gunwale and give increased depth. A neat housing of light canvas was
stretched upon a ridge-line sustained fore and aft by stanchions, and
hung down over the boat’s sides, where it was fastened (stopped) to a
jack-stay. My last year’s experience on the attempt to reach Beechy
Island determined me to carry but one mast to each boat. It was stepped
into an oaken thwart, made especially strong, as it was expected to
carry sail over ice as well as water: the mast could be readily
unshipped, and carried, with the oars, boat-hooks, and ice-poles,
alongside the boat. The third boat was my little _Red Eric_. We mounted
her on the old sledge, the _Faith_, hardly relying on her for any
purposes of navigation, but with the intention of cutting her up for
firewood in case our guns should fail to give us a supply of blubber.

“Indeed, in spite of all the ingenuity of our carpenter, Mr. Ohlsen,
well seconded by the persevering labours of McGary and Bonsall, not one
of our boats was positively sea-worthy. The planking of all of them was
so dried up that it could hardly be made tight by caulking.

“The three boats were mounted on sledges rigged with rue-raddies; the
provisions stowed snugly under the thwarts; the chronometers, carefully
boxed and padded, placed in the stern-sheets of the _Hope_, in charge of
Mr. Sonntag. With them were such of the instruments as we could venture
to transport. They consisted of two Gambey sextants with artificial
horizon, our transit-unifilar, and dip-instruments. Our glasses, with a
few of the smaller field-instruments, we carried on our persons. Our
fine theodolite we were forced to abandon. Our powder and shot, upon
which our lives depended, were carefully distributed in bags and tin
canisters. The percussion caps I took into my own possession, as more
precious than gold. Mr. Bonsall had a general charge of the arms and
ammunition. Places were arranged for the guns, and hunters appointed for
each boat. Mr. Petersen took charge of the most important part of our
field equipage, our cooking-gear. Petersen was our best tinker. All the
old stove-pipe, now none the better for two winters of Arctic fires, was
called into requisition. Each boat was provided with two large iron
cylinders, 14 inches in diameter and 18 inches high. Each of them held
an iron saucer or lamp, in which we could place our melted pork-fat or
blubber, and, with the aid of spun-yarn for a wick, make a roaring fire.
I need not say that the fat and oil always froze when not ignited. Into
these cylinders, which were used merely to defend our lamp from the wind
and our pots from contact with the cold air, we placed a couple of large
tin vessels, suitable either for melting snow or making tea or soup.
They were made out of cake-canisters cut down. How many kindly festival
associations hung by these now abused soup-cans! One of them had, before
the fire rubbed off its bright gilding, the wedding-inscription of a
large fruit-cake.

“We carried spare tins in case the others should burn out: it was well
we did so. So completely had we exhausted our household furniture, that
we had neither cups nor plates, except crockery. This, of course, would
not stand the travel, and our spare tin had to be saved for protecting
the boats from ice. At this juncture we cut plates out of every
imaginable and rejected piece of tinware. Borden’s meat-biscuit
canisters furnished us with a splendid dinner-service; and some rightly
feared tin jars, with ominous labels of Corrosive Sublimate and Arsenic,
which once belonged to our department of Natural History, were emptied,
scoured, and cut down into tea-cups.”

The 17th of May was fixed as the date of setting out, and each man was
to be allowed 8 lb. of personal effects. Until the boats were hauled a
considerable distance from the brig, the party returned to it at night.
When the last farewell to the brig was made, the entire ship’s company
took part in the ceremonial. It is best described in Dr. Kane’s own
words:—

“We read prayers and a chapter of the Bible; and then, all standing
silently round, I took Sir John Franklin’s portrait from its frame and
cased it in an india-rubber scroll. I next read the reports of
inspection and survey which had been made by the several commissions
organised for the purpose, all of them testifying to the necessities
under which I was about to act. I then addressed the party: I did not
affect to disguise the difficulties that were before us; but I assured
them that they could all be overcome by energy and subordination to
command, and that the 1300 miles of ice and water that lay between us
and North Greenland could be traversed with safety for most of us, and
hope for all. I added that as men and messmates it was the duty of us
all, enjoined by gallantry as well as religion, to postpone every
consideration of self to the protection of the wounded and sick; and
that this must be regarded by every man and under all circumstances as a
paramount order. In conclusion, I told them to think over the trials we
had all of us gone through, and to remember each man for himself how
often an unseen Power had rescued him in peril, and I admonished them
still to place reliance on Him who could not change.”

On reaching the boats, the party were regularly mustered and divided
between the two. A rigid inspection was made of every article of
personal equipment. Each man had a woollen under-dress and an Esquimaux
suit of fur clothing—kapetah, nessak, and nannooke complete, with boots
of their own make. One pair of boots was made of canvas faced with
walrus-hide, and another inside these made of the cabin Brussels carpet.
In addition to this, each man carried a rue-raddy—a shoulder-belt to
drag by—adjusted to fit him comfortably, a pair of socks next his skin,
and a pair of large goggles for snow-blindness, made Esquimaux-fashion
by cutting a small slit in a piece of wood. The provision-bags and other
stores were numbered, and each man and officer had his own bag and a
place assigned for it, to prevent confusion in rapid stowing and
unstowing. Excluding four sick men, who were unable to move, and Dr.
Kane, who had to drive the dog-team and serve as common carrier and
courier, they numbered but twelve men, which would have given six to a
sledge—too few to move it. It was therefore necessary to concentrate
the entire force upon one sledge at a time.

The routine established by Dr. Kane was the most precise:—“Daily
prayers both morning and evening, all hands gathering round in a circle
and standing uncovered during the short exercise; regulated hours; fixed
duties and positions at the track-lines and on the halt; the cooking to
be taken by turns, the captains of the boats alone being excused. The
charge of the log was confided to Dr. Hayes, and the running survey to
Mr. Sonntag. The thermometer was observed every three hours.”

Dr. Kane prepared the hut at Anoatok for the reception of the sick, and
carried a large part of the provisions there. During the first fortnight
after the sledges left the brig he journeyed between 700 and 800 miles
in doing this work by means of his dog-sledge—a mean travel of about 57
miles a day.

Before reaching open water on the 16th of June, enormous difficulties
had to be overcome, and one man lost his life through an injury to his
back in making an attempt to keep one of the sledges from going through
the ice.

The boats had now to be caulked and swelled to prepare them for a long
and adventurous navigation.

Nearly the whole Esquimaux settlement followed and assisted them as far
as the open water, and Dr. Kane thus describes the scene near the time
of bidding them farewell:—

“Each one has a knife, or a file, or a saw, or some such treasured
keepsake; and the children have a lump of soap, the greatest of all
great medicines. The merry little urchins break in upon me even now as I
am writing:—‘Kuyanake, kuyanake, Nalegaksoak!’ ‘Thank you, thank you,
big chief!’ while Myouk is crowding fresh presents of raw birds on me as
if I could eat for ever, and poor Aningnah is crying beside the
tent-curtain, wiping her eyes on a bird-skin!

“My heart warms to these poor, dirty, miserable, yet happy beings, so
long our neighbours, and of late so staunchly our friends. Theirs is no
affectation of regret. There are twenty-two of them around me, all busy
in good offices to the Docto Kayens; and there are only two women and
the old blind patriarch Kresuk, ‘Driftwood,’ left behind at the
settlement.

“But see! more of them are coming up,—boys ten years old are pushing
forward babies on their sledges. The whole nation is gipsying with us
upon the icy meadows.

“We cook for them in our big camp-kettle; they sleep in the _Red Eric_;
a berg close at hand supplies them with water; and thus, rich in all
that they value,—sleep and food and drink and companionship,—with
their treasured short-lived summer sun above them, the _beau ideal_ and
sum of Esquimaux blessings, they seem supremely happy.

“Poor creatures! It is only six months ago that starvation was among
them: many of the faces around me have not yet lost the lines of wasting
suspense. The walrus-season is again of doubtful productiveness, and
they are cut off from their brethren to the south, at Netelik, and
Appah, until winter rebuilds the avenue of ice. With all this, no
thoughts of the future cross them. Babies squall, and women chatter, and
the men weave their long yarns with peals of rattling hearty laughter
between.

“Ever since we reached Pekiutlik, these friends of ours have considered
us their guests. They have given us hand-sledges for our baggage, and
taken turn about in watches to carry us and it to the water’s edge. But
for them our dreary journey would have been prolonged at least a
fortnight, and we are so late even now that hours may measure our lives.
Metek, Myouk, Nessark, Erkee, and the half-grown boys have been our
chief labourers; but women, children, and dogs are all bearing their
part.

“Whatever may have been the faults of these Esquimaux heretofore,
stealing was the only grave one. Treachery they may have conceived; and
I have reason to believe that, under superstitious fears of an evil
influence from our presence, they would at one time have been glad to
destroy us. But the day of all this has passed away. When trouble came
to us and to them, and we bent ourselves to their habits,—when we
looked to them to procure us fresh meat, and they found at our poor
Oomiak-soak shelter and protection during their wild bear-hunts,—then
we were so blended in our interests as well as modes of life that every
trace of enmity wore away. God knows that since they professed
friendship, albeit the imaginary powers of the angekok-soak and the
marvellous six-shooter which attested them may have had their influence,
never have friends been more true. Although, since Ohlsen’s death,
numberless articles of inestimable value to them have been scattered
upon the ice unwatched, they have not stolen a nail. It was only
yesterday that Metek, upon my alluding to the manner in which property
of all sorts was exposed without pilfering, explained through Petersen,
in these two short sentences, the argument of their morality:—

“‘You have done us good. We are not hungry; we will not take,
(steal)—You have done us good; we want to help you: we are friends.’”

Kane and his men were delayed by a gale till 19th June, when they
embarked in three boats. Of the original nineteen men, three had died.
Another, Hans Christian the Esquimaux, had fallen in love, and remained
behind. The party now, therefore, consisted of fifteen. They made first
for Hakluyt Island, where the boats had to undergo further repairs. In
the morning of 22nd June, they pushed forward through a snowstorm for
Northumberland Island, where a number of auks were secured. Murchison
Channel was crossed on 23rd June, and they encamped for the night near
the base of Cape Parry. Soon after leaving here they encountered a gale
from the north-west, and had great difficulty in escaping from the
drifting ice. By good luck, however, they landed at the breeding-grounds
of a large number of eider ducks, and were able to gather 1200 eggs a
day. Here they remained three days, until the storm abated. They now
made for Cape Dudley Digges, which they reached on 11th July. Here they
obtained an abundance of birds, and scurvy grass. The ice ahead barred
their passage, and they were nothing loath to spend a week where there
was plenty of food. On 18th July they again set out, but in doing so
were unfortunate enough to lose their best shot-gun and their kettle,
owing to the capsizing of one of the boats. Cape York was reached on
21st July. Here they left the coast-line and entered the ice-pack. On
the 28th the daily allowance of food was restricted to 5 oz. of
bread-dust, 4 oz. of tallow, and 3 oz. of bird-meat. The _Red Eric_ was
broken up for fuel, so that the whole party had now to be transported in
two boats. The short rations soon began to tell on their strength, and
the old symptoms of scurvy came back again. It was at this crisis that a
seal was seen, and the incident is thus described by Dr. Kane:—

“It was an ussuk, and so large that I at first mistook it for a walrus.
Signal was made for the _Hope_ to follow astern, and, trembling with
anxiety, we prepared to crawl down upon him.

“Petersen, with the large English rifle, was stationed in the bow, and
stockings were drawn over the oars as mufflers. As we neared the animal,
our excitement became so intense that the men could hardly keep stroke.
I had a set of signals for such occasions which spared us the noise of
the voice; and when about 300 yards off, the oars were taken in, and we
moved in deep silence with a single scull astern.

“He was not asleep, for he reared his head when we were almost within
rifle-shot; and to this day I can remember the hard, careworn, almost
despairing expression of the men’s thin faces as they saw him move:
their lives depended on his capture.

“I depressed my hand nervously, as a signal for Petersen to fire. McGary
hung upon his oar, and the boat, slowly but noiselessly sagging ahead,
seemed to me within certain range. Looking at Petersen, I saw that the
poor fellow was paralysed by his anxiety, trying vainly to obtain a rest
for his gun against the cut-water of the boat. The seal rose on his
fore-flippers, gazed at us for a moment with frightened curiosity, and
coiled himself for a plunge. At that instant, simultaneously with the
crack of our rifle, he relaxed his long length on the ice, and, at the
very brink of the water, his head fell helpless to one side.

“I would have ordered another shot, but no discipline could have
controlled the men. With a wild yell, each vociferating according to his
own impulse, they urged both boats upon the floes. A crowd of hands
seized the seal and bore him up to safer ice. The men seemed half crazy;
I had not realised how much we were reduced by absolute famine. They ran
over the floe, crying and laughing and brandishing their knives. It was
not five minutes before every man was sucking his bloody fingers or
mouthing long strips of raw blubber.

“Not an ounce of this seal was lost. The intestines found their way into
the soup-kettles without any observance of the preliminary
home-processes. The cartilaginous parts of the fore-flippers were cut
off in the mêlée, and passed round to be chewed upon; and even the
liver, warm and raw as it was, bade fair to be eaten before it had seen
the pot. That night, on the large halting-floe, to which, in contempt of
the dangers of drifting, we happy men had hauled our boats, two entire
planks of the _Red Eric_ were devoted to a grand cooking-fire, and we
enjoyed a rare and savage feast.

“This was our last experience of the disagreeable effects of hunger. In
the words of George Stephenson, ‘The charm was broken and the dogs were
safe.’ The dogs I have said little about, for none of us liked to think
of them. The poor creatures Toodla and Whitey had been taken with us as
last resources against starvation. They were, as McGary worded it, ‘meat
on the hoof,’ and ‘able to carry their own fat over the floes.’ Once,
near Weary Man’s Rest, I had been on the point of killing them; but they
had been the leaders of our winter’s team, and we could not bear the
sacrifice.”

Within a day or two after killing the large seal, another was shot, and
from that time forward they had a full supply of food. On the 1st of
August they sighted the Devil’s Thumb, and were soon among the Duck
Islands. A few days after this they met an Upernavik oil-boat, and
received some scanty news of the world. They learnt that a squadron
under Captain Hartstene had left for the north in search of them a short
time before. On the 6th of August they arrived at Upernavik, where they
were well received by the Danes—eighty-three days after leaving the
_Advance_. The squadron under Hartstene returned in time to convey Dr.
Kane and his party to America.

                 *        *        *        *        *

The results of Dr. Kane’s expedition were very important. Ross had
declared that Smith Sound was a bay, and although Captain Inglefield in
1852 proved that it was a sound, he reached only 78° 28′. Kane extended
our knowledge up to 81° 22′, and all indications tended to show that
Kennedy Channel led to the Polar Ocean.

No one can read Kane’s book without being impressed by the noble
character of the man. He was a hero in the highest sense of the word. It
is sad to relate that he died in Havana on the 16th February 1857, when
only thirty-seven years of age.




                              CHAPTER III
                   EXPEDITION COMMANDED BY DR. HAYES
                               IN 1860−61


The object of Dr. Hayes’ expedition may be given in his own words:—

“The plan of the enterprise first suggested itself to me while acting as
surgeon of the expedition commanded by the late Dr. E. K. Kane, of the
United States Navy. Although its execution did not appear feasible at
the period of my return from that voyage in October 1855, yet I did not
at any time abandon the design. It comprehended an extensive scheme of
discovery. The proposed route was that by Smith Sound. My object was to
complete the survey of the north coasts of Greenland and Grinnell Land,
and to make such explorations as I might find practicable in the
direction of the North Pole.

“My proposed base of operations was Grinnell Land, which I had
discovered on my former voyage, and had personally traced beyond
latitude 80°, far enough to satisfy me that it was available for my
design.

“Accepting the deductions of many learned physicists that the sea about
the North Pole cannot be frozen, that an open area of varying extent
must be found within the Ice-belt which is known to invest it, I desired
to add to the proofs which had already been accumulated by the early
Dutch and English voyagers, and, more recently, by the researches of
Scoresby, Wrangel, and Parry, and still later by Dr. Kane’s expedition.

“It is well known that the great difficulty which has been encountered,
in the various attempts that have been made to solve this important
physical problem, has been the inability of the explorer to penetrate
the Ice-belt with his ship, or to travel over it with sledges
sufficiently far to obtain indisputable proof. My former experience led
me to the conclusion that the chances of success were greater by Smith
Sound than by any other route, and my hopes of success were based upon
the expectation which I entertained of being able to push a vessel into
the Ice-belt, to about the 80th parallel of latitude, and thence to
transport a boat over the ice to the open sea which I hoped to find
beyond. Reaching this open sea, if such fortune awaited me, I proposed
to launch my boat and to push off northward. For the ice-transportation
I expected to rely, mainly, upon the dog of the Esquimaux.”

Dr. Hayes had a strong belief in the existence of an open Polar Sea, but
it may here be mentioned that subsequent exploration proved that his
views were not correct. On the other hand, the view of the old
geographers that for a long distance around the Pole the sea was covered
with immovable ice has also been disproved. Throughout the whole year
the ice is found to be more or less in motion, except where it is in
contact with the land.

Dr. Hayes expected to be able to start with two vessels,—one a small
steamer, to be taken out under sails, and the steam-power only to be
used when actually among the ice; the other a sailing vessel, to be
employed as a tender or store-ship. He found, however, that the fund
which he had raised with great difficulty would only enable him to fit
out and man one small sailing vessel.

A fore-and-aft schooner of 133 tons register, named _Spring Hill_, was
purchased, and after some necessary alterations, was rechristened
_United States_.

August Sonntag, the astronomer of Kane’s expedition, early volunteered
to accompany Hayes. On his return to the United States he was appointed
to the Dudley Observatory, Albany, and to accompany Dr. Hayes he
sacrificed the fine position of Associate Director of that institution.

Including Dr. Hayes, the party numbered fifteen persons. They left
Boston on 7th July 1860, and after a rough passage crossed the Arctic
Circle on 30th July. The first iceberg was met on the previous day. Some
rough weather was experienced in Davis’ Strait, and is thus described by
Hayes:—

“We were running before the wind and fighting a wretched cross-sea under
reefed fore and mainsail and jib, when the fore fife-rail was carried
away;—down came everything to the deck, and there was left not a stitch
of canvas on the schooner but the lumbering mainsail. It was a miracle
that we did not broach to and go to the bottom. Nothing saved us but a
steady hand at the helm.

“Notwithstanding all this knocking about, everybody seemed to take it
for granted that this sort of thing is very natural and proper, and a
part of the engagement for the cruise. It is at least gratifying to see
that they take kindly to discomfort, and receive every freak of fortune
with manly good-nature. I really believe that were affairs otherwise
ordered they would be sadly disappointed. They are ‘the small band of
brave and spirited men’ they read about in the newspapers, and they mean
to show it. The sailors are sometimes literally drowned out of the
forecastle. The cabin is flooded at least a dozen times a day. The
skylight has been knocked to pieces by the head of a sea, and the table,
standing directly under it, has been more than once cleared of crockery
and eatables without the aid of the steward. My own cabin gets washed
out at irregular intervals, and my books are half of them spoiled by
tumbling from their shelves in spite of all I can do to the contrary.
Once I caught the whole library tacking about the deck after an
unusually ambitious dive of the schooner, and the advent of a more than
ordinarily heavy rush of water through the ‘companion-way.’”

Land was first sighted on the 31st July, and proved to be the southern
extremity of Disco Island. Owing to a calm, Proven was not reached till
6th August. The entry into the harbour is thus described by Dr. Hayes:—

“We were escorted into the harbour of Proven by the strangest fleet of
boats and the strangest-looking boatmen that ever convoyed a ship. They
were the far-famed Kayakers of Greenland, and they deserve a passing
notice.

“The Kayak of the Greenlander is the frailest specimen of marine
architecture that ever carried human freight. It is 18 feet long and as
many inches wide at its middle, and tapers, with an upward curving line,
to a point at either end. The skeleton of the boat is made of light
wood; the covering is of tanned seal-skin, sewed together by the native
women with sinew thread, and with a strength and dexterity quite
astonishing. Not a drop of water finds its way through their seams, and
the skin itself is perfectly waterproof. The boat is about 9 inches
deep, and the top is covered like the bottom. There is no opening into
it except a round hole in the centre, which admits the hunter as far as
his hips. This hole is surrounded with a wooden rim, over which the
Kayaker laces the lower edge of his water-tight jacket, and thus fastens
himself in and keeps the water out. He propels himself with a single oar
about 6 feet long, which terminates in a blade or paddle at either end.
This instrument of locomotion is grasped in the centre, and is dipped in
the water alternately to right and left. The boat is graceful as a duck
and light as a feather. It has no ballast and no keel, and it rides
almost on the surface of the water. It is therefore necessarily
top-heavy. Long practice is required to manage it, and no tight-rope
dancer ever needed more steady nerve and skill of balance than this same
savage Kayaker. Yet, in this frail craft, he does not hesitate to ride
seas which would swamp an ordinary boat, or to break through surf which
may sweep completely over him. But he is used to hard battles, and, in
spite of every fortune, he keeps himself upright.”

Hayes expected to obtain a supply of dogs at Proven, but he found that a
disease which had prevailed among the teams during the previous year had
diminished the stock to less than half of what was required by the
people themselves, and he had to be satisfied with a few dogs of
inferior quality. The Danish officials, however, rendered Hayes all the
assistance in their power, and gave him hope of being more successful at
Upernavik, for which settlement he left on 12th August.

During the night, before reaching Upernavik, the carpenter of the
expedition, Gibson Caruthers, died suddenly. Besides Mr. Sonntag and Dr.
Hayes, he was the only member of the party who had been in the Arctic
seas, having served in the First Grinnell Expedition in search of
Franklin. He was buried at Upernavik.

Having obtained about two dozen dogs, and a supply of reindeer, seal,
and dog-skins, Upernavik was left after four days’ delay. Three
Esquimaux, an interpreter, and two Danish sailors were engaged at
Upernavik. At Tessuissak, a place about 60 miles from Upernavik, a team
of dogs, the property of the interpreter, was obtained.

When Melville Bay was reached, Hayes was delighted to find open water
with only an iceberg here and there. This was crossed in the short space
of fifty-five hours. Near the northern part of the bay a loose pack
about 15 miles wide was encountered, but under a full pressure of
canvas, little difficulty was experienced in “boring” it.

Standing close in under Cape York, Hayes kept a careful look-out for
natives. He wished if possible to ascertain whether Hans of the Kane
expedition was there. In this he was successful. Hayes writes:—

“Six years’ experience among the wild men of this barren coast had
brought him to their level of filthy ugliness. His companions were his
wife, who carried her first-born in a hood upon her back; her brother, a
bright-eyed boy of twelve years, and ‘an ancient dame with voluble and
flippant tongue,’ her mother. They were all dressed in skins, and, being
the first Esquimaux we had seen whose habits remained wholly
uninfluenced by contact with civilisation, they were, naturally, objects
of much interest to us all.

“Hans led us up the hillside, over rough rocks and through deep
snow-drifts, to his tent. It was pitched about 200 feet above the level
of the sea, in a most inconvenient position for a hunter; but it was his
‘look-out.’ Wearily he had watched, year after year, for the hoped-for
vessel; but summer after summer passed and the vessel came not, and he
still sighed for his southern home and the friends of his youth.

“His tent was a sorry habitation. It was made after the
Esquimaux-fashion, of seal-skins, and was barely large enough to hold
the little family who were grouped about us.

“I asked Hans if he would go with us.

“‘Yes!’

“Would he take his wife and baby?

“‘Yes!’

“Would he go without them?

“‘Yes!’

“Having no leisure to examine critically into the state of his mind, and
having an impression that the permanent separation of husband and wife
is regarded as a painful event, I gave the Esquimaux mother the benefit
of this conventional suspicion, and brought them both aboard, with their
baby and their tent and all their household goods. The old woman and
bright-eyed boy cried to be taken along; but I had no further room, and
we had to leave them to the care of the remainder of the tribe, who,
about twenty in number, had discovered the vessel, and came shouting
gleefully over the hill. After distributing to them some useful
presents, we pushed off for the schooner.

“Hans was the only unconcerned person in the party. I subsequently
thought that he would have been quite as well pleased had I left his
wife and child to the protection of their savage kin; and had I known
him as well then as, with good reason, I knew him afterwards, I would
not have gone out of my way to disturb his barbarous existence.”

Cape Alexander, at the entrance to Smith Sound, was reached without any
special difficulty. Standing over towards Cape Isabella on the opposite
side of the sound, there seemed a good prospect of being able to reach
it, but soon a heavy pack was met with, and a furious gale coming on
compelled Hayes to run back to the coast for shelter. On the 31st
August, during this gale, the schooner dragged its anchors. What
followed is thus described by Hayes: “McCormick managed to save the
bower, but the kedge was lost. It caught a rock at a critical moment,
and, the hawser parting, we were driven upon the bergs, which, as before
stated, had grounded astern of us. The collision was a perfect crash.
The stern boat flew into splinters, the bulwarks over the
starboard-quarter were stove in, and, the schooner’s head swinging round
with great violence, the jib-boom was carried away, and the bowsprit and
foretopmast were both sprung. In this crippled condition we at length
escaped most miraculously, and under bare poles scudded before the wind.
A vast number of icebergs and the ‘pack’ coming in view, we were forced
to make sail. The mainsail went to pieces as soon as it was set, and we
were once more in great jeopardy; but fortunately the storm abated, and
we have since been threshing to windward, and are once more within Smith
Sound.”

Hayes again attempted to reach Cape Isabella, but the pack was again
met. He then attempted to pass up the Greenland coast so as to try to
cross farther north. However, another gale set in, and he was forced to
take shelter behind Cape Alexander. When the gale subsided he again
entered the sound, but was soon beset in the ice, and the schooner was
seriously damaged. Even after this, another attempt was made to pass up
the coast, but it ended in failure, and Hayes was forced to put into
Hartstene Bay for the winter. The harbour was named Port Foulke, in
honour of William Parker Foulke, of Philadelphia, who was one of the
earliest, and continued to be throughout one of the most constant
advocates of the expedition. Port Foulke is situated about 8 nautical
miles in a north-easterly direction from Cape Alexander. An abundance of
game was found in the neighbourhood, and consisted of deer, hares,
foxes, and birds.

During October, Hayes made a journey inland, ascending a glacier, named
by Kane after his brother John, with five men, and taking with him a
sledge loaded with eight days’ provisions, a small canvas tent, two
buffalo-skins for bedding, and a cooking-lamp. The party reached a point
70 miles from the coast, at an elevation of 5000 feet. Hayes describes
it as a vast frozen Sahara, immeasurable to the human eye. He goes on to
compare the river systems of the Temperate and Equatorial Zones with the
glacier systems of the Arctic and Antarctic, and draws a delightful
picture of the great law of Circulation and Change:—

“The dewdrop, distilled upon the tropic palm-leaf, falling to the earth,
has reappeared in the gurgling spring of the primeval forest, has flown
with the rivulet to the river, and with the river to the ocean; has then
vanished into the air, and, wafted northward by the unseen wind, has
fallen as a downy snowflake upon the lofty mountain, where, penetrated
by a solar ray, it has become again a little globule of water, and the
chilly wind, following the sun, has converted this globule into a
crystal; and the crystal takes up its wandering course again, seeking
the ocean.

“But where its movement was once rapid, it is now slow; where it then
flowed with the river miles in an hour, it will now flow with the
glacier not more in centuries; and where it once entered calmly into the
sea, it will now join the world of waters in the midst of a violent
convulsion.

“We have thus seen that the iceberg is the discharge of the Arctic
river, that the Arctic river is the glacier, and that the glacier is the
accumulation of the frozen vapours of the air. We have watched this
river, moving on its slow and steady course from the distant hills,
until at length it has reached the sea; and we have seen the sea tear
from the slothful stream a monstrous fragment, and take back to itself
its own again. Freed from the shackles which it has borne in silence
through unnumbered centuries, this new-born child of the ocean rushes
with a wild bound into the arms of the parent water, where it is
caressed by the surf and nursed into life again; and the crystal drops
receive their long-lost freedom, and fly away on the laughing waves to
catch once more the sunbeam, and to run again their course through the
long cycle of the ages.

“And this iceberg has more significance than the great flood which the
glacier’s southern sister, the broad Amazon, pours into the ocean from
the slopes of the Andes and the mountains of Brazil. Solemn, stately,
and erect, in tempest and in calm, it rides the deep. The restless waves
resound through its broken archways and thunder against its adamantean
walls. Clouds, impenetrable as those which shielded the graceful form of
Arethusa, clothe it in the morning; under the bright blaze of the
noonday sun it is armoured in glittering silver; it robes itself in the
gorgeous colours of evening; and in the silent night the heavenly orbs
are mirrored in its glassy surface. Drifting snows whirl over it in the
winter, and the sea-gulls swarm round it in the summer. The last rays of
departing day linger upon its lofty spires; and when the long darkness
is past it catches the first gleam of the returning light, and its
gilded dome heralds the coming morn. The elements combine to render
tribute to its matchless beauty. Its loud voice is wafted to the shore,
and the earth rolls it from crag to crag among the echoing hills. The
sun steals through the veil of radiant fountains which flutter over it
in the summer winds, and the rainbow on its pallid cheek betrays the
warm kiss. The air crowns it with wreaths of soft vapour, and the waters
around it take the hues of the emerald and the sapphire. In fulfilment
of its destiny it moves steadily onward in its blue pathway through the
varying seasons and under the changeful skies. Slowly, as in ages long
gone by it arose from the broad waters, so does it sink back into them.
It is indeed a noble symbol of the Law,—a monument of Time’s slow
changes, more ancient than the Egyptian Pyramids or the obelisk of
Heliopolis. Its crystals were dewdrops and snowflakes long before the
human race was born in Eden.”

By the 28th October, 74 reindeer, 21 foxes, 12 hares, 1 seal, 14 eider
ducks, 8 dovekies, 6 auks, and 1 ptarmigan had been shot and brought on
board. In addition to these, some 20 to 30 reindeer had been cached in
various places. Hayes naturally came to the conclusion that men might
live indefinitely at Port Foulke without being troubled with scurvy.

On the 19th November, one of the Esquimaux, Peter, disappeared. For some
time Hayes had observed a rivalry between Hans and Peter, and he took
the side of the latter. Hans was jealous of every act of favour towards
Peter, and Hayes was inclined to believe that Hans had been the means of
frightening Peter and of making him run off. No news was received as to
his whereabouts until months afterwards, when some Esquimaux found his
dead body in a hut a long distance from the ship.

Early in December a serious disease attacked the dogs, similar to what
Kane had to deal with. Hayes had at this time thirty-six, and the first
attacked by the disease was shot. However, seven died within four days,
and during the first two weeks of December eighteen died. At the end of
the following week only nine dogs were left. This was a serious blow to
Hayes, as he relied chiefly on the dogs for transport across the ice. It
was now necessary to devise means for remedying the loss, or to arrange
new plans in conformity with the changed circumstances. The first
expedient which suggested itself was to open communication with the
Esquimaux of Whale Sound, from whom some animals might be obtained. From
Hans it was learned that there was a family living on Northumberland
Island, several families on the south side of Whale Sound, and possibly
one or more on the north side. Northumberland Island was about 100 miles
distant, and the south side of the Sound about 150. It was decided that
if a sufficient number of dogs remained alive when the moon came in
December, Sonntag should make the journey at that period, taking a
single sledge, and Hans for a driver. They set out on the 21st December,
and nothing was heard of them until the 29th January, when two Esquimaux
arrived with the news that Sonntag had died. Hans appeared two days
afterwards, and told his story:—

“The travellers rounded Cape Alexander without difficulty, finding the
ice solid; and they did not halt until they had reached Sutherland
Island, where they built a snow-hut and rested for a few hours.
Continuing thence down the coast, they sought the Esquimaux at Sorfalik
without success. The native hut at that place being in ruins, they made
for their shelter another house of snow; and after being well rested,
they set out directly for Northumberland Island, having concluded that
it was useless to seek longer for natives on the north side of the
sound. They had proceeded on their course about 4 or 5 miles, as nearly
as I can judge from Hans’s description, when Sonntag, growing a little
chilled, sprang off the sledge and ran ahead of the dogs to warm himself
with the exercise. The tangling of a trace obliging Hans to halt the
team for a few minutes, he fell some distance behind, and was hurrying
on to catch up, when he suddenly observed Sonntag sinking. He had come
upon the thin ice, covering a recently open tide-crack, and, probably
not observing his footing, he slipped upon it unawares. Hans hastened to
his rescue, aided him out of the water, and then turned back for the
shelter which they had recently abandoned. A light wind was blowing at
the time from the north-east, and this, according to Hans, caused
Sonntag to seek the hut without stopping to change his wet clothing. At
first he ran beside the sledge, and thus guarded against danger; but
after a while he rode, and when they halted at Sorfalik, Hans discovered
that his companion was stiff and speechless. Assisting him into the hut
with all possible dispatch, Hans states that he removed the wet and
frozen clothing, and placed Sonntag in the sleeping-bag. He next gave
him some brandy which he found in a flask on the sledge; and, having
tightly closed the hut, he lighted the alcohol-lamp, for the double
purpose of elevating the temperature and making some coffee; but all his
efforts were unavailing, and, after remaining for nearly a day
unconscious, Sonntag died. He did not speak after reaching the hut, and
left no message of any kind.”

Hayes was not altogether satisfied with the explanation given by Hans.
He wrote; “Although I have no good reason for doubting the truth of his
narrative, yet I cannot quite reconcile my mind to the fact that
Sonntag, with so much experience to govern him, should have undertaken
to travel 5 miles in wet clothing, especially as he was accompanied by a
native hunter who was familiar with all of the expedients for safety
upon the ice-fields, and to whom falling in the water is no unusual
circumstance. The sledge and the canvas apron which enclosed the cargo
furnished the means for constructing a temporary shelter from the wind,
and the sleeping-bag would have insured against freezing while Hans got
ready the dry clothing, of which Sonntag carried a complete change. Nor
can I understand how he should have lived so long and have given Hans no
message for me, nor have spoken a word after coming out of the water,
further than to have ordered his driver to hasten back to the snow-hut.
However, it is idle to speculate about the matter; and since Hans’s
interests were concerned in proving faithful to the officer who, of all
those in the ship, cared most for him, it would be unreasonable as well
as unjust to suspect him of desertion.”

Towards spring, Hayes had the body of Sonntag brought to Port Foulke and
buried. “And here,” writes Hayes, “in the drear solitude of the Arctic
desert, our comrade sleeps the sleep that knows no waking in this
troubled world,—where no loving hands can ever come to strew his grave
with flowers, nor eyes grow dim with sorrowing; but the gentle stars,
which in life he loved so well, will keep over him eternal vigil, and
the winds will wail over him, and Nature, his mistress, will drop upon
his tomb her frozen tears for evermore.”

When Hans returned from his visit to the Esquimaux, he brought with him
his wife’s father and mother. Hayes gives the following description of
them:—

“The personal appearance of this interesting couple was not peculiarly
attractive. Their faces were broad, jaws heavy, cheek-bones projecting
like other carnivorous animals, foreheads narrow, eyes small and very
black, noses flat, lips long and thin, and when opened, there were
disclosed two narrow, white, well-preserved rows of polished
ivory,—well worn, however, with long use and hard service, for the
teeth of the Esquimaux serve a great variety of purposes, such as
softening skins, pulling and tightening cords, besides masticating food,
which I may here mention is wholly animal. Their hair was jet black,
though not abundant, and the man had the largest growth of beard which I
have seen upon an Esquimaux face, but it was confined to the upper lip
and the tip of the chin. The face of the Esquimaux is indeed quite
Mongolian in its type, and is usually beardless. In stature they are
short, though well built, and bear, in every movement, evidence of
strength and endurance.

“The dress of the male and female differed but little one from the
other. It consisted of nine pieces—a pair of boots, stockings, mittens,
pantaloons, an under-dress, and a coat. The man wore boots of bear-skin,
reaching to the top of the calf, where they met the pantaloons, which
were composed of the same materials. The boots of the woman reached
nearly to the middle of the thigh, and were made of tanned seal-skins.
Her pantaloons, like her husband’s, were of bear-skin. The stockings
were of dog-skin, and the mittens of seal-skin. The under-dress was made
of bird-skins, feathers turned inwards; and the coat, which did not open
in front, but was drawn on over the head like a shirt, was of blue
fox-skins. This coat terminates in a hood which envelops the head as
completely as an Albanian capote or a monk’s cowl. This hood gives the
chief distinction to the dresses of the sexes. In the costume of the man
it is round, closely fitting the scalp, while in the woman it is pointed
at the top to receive the hair which is gathered up on the crown of the
head, and tied into a hard, horn-like tuft with a piece of raw
seal-hide,—a style of coiffure which, whatever may be its other
advantages, cannot be regarded as peculiarly picturesque.

“Their ages could not be determined; for, since the Esquimaux cannot
enumerate beyond their ten fingers, it is quite impossible for them to
refer to a past event by any process of notation. Having no written
language whatever, not even the picture-writing and hieroglyphics of the
rudest Indian tribes of North America, the race possesses no records,
and such traditions as may come down from generation to generation are
not fixed by any means which will furnish even an approximate estimate
of their periods of growth, prosperity, and decay, or even of their own
ages.”

Towards the end of February three other Esquimaux appeared from the
south, and from them Hayes obtained some dogs.

About the middle of March, Hayes made a preliminary journey in order to
explore the track for his extended journey to the north, and cached some
provisions at Cairn Point. He visited Rensselaer Harbour, where the
_Advance_ had been left, but no vestige of the ship remained, except a
small bit of a deck-plank which Hayes picked up near the site of the old
observatory.

The long sledge-journey began on the 3rd of April 1861. A quantity of
provisions had previously been taken to Cairn Point, which Hayes had
decided to make the starting-place for crossing the Sound. On one sledge
was mounted a 20-foot metallic lifeboat with which Hayes hoped to
navigate the Polar Sea. When Cairn Point was reached, Hayes decided to
leave the boat there, as he saw that it was impossible to take the boat
and cargo across the Sound in one journey. A storm delayed the party
several days at Cairn Point, and soon after encountering the
ice-hummocks, Hayes wrote:—

“I need hardly say that I soon gave up all thought of trying to get the
boat across the Sound. A hundred men could not have accomplished the
task. My only purpose now was to get to the coast of Grinnell Land with
as large a stock of provisions as possible, and to retain the men as
long as they could be of use; but it soon became a question whether the
men themselves could carry over their own provisions independent of the
surplus which I should require in order that the severe labour should
result to advantage. In spite, however, of everything, the men kept
steadfastly to their duty, through sunshine and through storm, through
cold, and danger, and fatigue.”

Hayes tried to make for Cape Sabine, but found the hummocks quite
impassable, and he had to bear more to the northward. On the 25th of
April he reported: “My party are in a very sorry condition. One of the
men has sprained his back from lifting; another has a sprained ankle;
another has gastritis; another a frosted toe; and all are thoroughly
overwhelmed with fatigue.”

On the 27th April he determined to send back the men, with the exception
of Knorr, Jensen, and McDonald. Only about half of the Sound had been
crossed, but Hayes decided to struggle on. Jensen became partially
snow-blind, and on the 3rd of May, when stumbling along, his leg
received a severe wrench in a crack in the ice. The land, at Cape Hawks,
was not reached until the 11th of May. Thirty-one days had been occupied
in crossing the Sound. Hayes writes:—

“The journey across the Sound from Cairn Point was unexampled in Arctic
travelling. The distance from land to land, as the crow flies, did not
exceed 80 miles; and yet, as hitherto observed, the journey consumed
thirty-one days—but little more than 2 miles daily. The track, however,
which we were forced to choose, was often at least three times that of a
straight line; and since almost every mile of that tortuous route was
travelled over three and five times, in bringing up the separate
portions of our cargo, our actual distance did not probably average less
than 16 miles daily, or about 500 miles in all, between Cairn Point and
Cape Hawks. The last 40 miles, made with dog-sledges alone, occupied
fourteen days—a circumstance which will of itself exhibit the difficult
nature of the undertaking, especially when it is borne in mind that 40
miles to an ordinary team of dogs, over usually fair ice, is a trifling
matter for five hours, and would not fatigue the team half so much as a
single hour’s pulling of the same load over such hummocks as confronted
us throughout this entire journey.

“In order to obtain the best results which the Esquimaux dog is capable
of yielding, it is essential that he shall be able to trot away with his
load. To walk at a dead drag is as distressing to his spirits and
energies as the hauling of a dray would be to a blooded horse; and he
will much more readily run away with a 100 pounds over good ice than to
pull one-fourth of that weight over a track which admits only of a slow
pace.”

The failure to get the boat, or even a foot-party, over the Sound
disarranged Hayes’ original plans. Of the 800 lb. of dog-food which he
had when he sent back the men, only about 300 lb. remained. Small dépôts
had, however, been made for the return journey. The most that Hayes now
hoped to do was to explore the route to the shores of the Polar Sea, as
a basis for further exploration to follow the event of his reaching the
west side of Smith Sound with his vessel late in the summer.

The first day’s march from Cape Hawks carried the party across the wide
bay to Cape Napoleon, and they were pleased to find that the whole load
could be carried at one time, although the travelling was far from good.
Deep snow was met, and in wading through it Jensen’s leg gave way, and
he had to be carried on the sledge. From Cape Napoleon to Cape Frazer
the travelling was good, and camp was made near the farthest point
reached by Hayes in 1854. The little flag-staff, which Hayes had
planted, was discovered, still standing erect among the rocks; but not a
vestige of the flag remained. The winds had whipped it entirely away.

On the 16th of May, Jensen’s injured leg was so painful that Hayes
decided to leave him behind in charge of McDonald.

From Cape Frazer northward the description given by Hayes of his route
is extremely meagre and vague. He states that when Jensen was left
behind he was about 60 miles to the northward and westward of Cape
Constitution, reached by Morton. About two days after leaving Jensen,
Hayes reached the southern cape of a bay which was so deep that, as in
other cases of like obstruction, he determined to cross over it rather
than to follow the shore-line. He writes: “We had gone only a few miles
when we found our progress suddenly arrested. Our course was made
directly for a conspicuous headland bounding the bay to the northward,
over a strip of old ice lining the shore. This headland seemed to be
about 20 miles from us, or near latitude 82°, and I was very desirous of
reaching it; but, unhappily, the old ice came suddenly to an end, and
after scrambling over the fringe of hummocks which margined it, we found
ourselves upon ice of the late winter. The unerring instinct of the dogs
warned us of approaching danger. They were observed for some time to be
moving with unusual caution, and finally they scattered to right and
left, and refused to proceed farther. This behaviour of the dogs was too
familiar to me to leave any doubt as to its meaning; and moving forward
in advance, I quickly perceived that the ice was rotten and unsafe.
Thinking that this might be merely a local circumstance, resulting from
some peculiarity of the current, we doubled back upon the old floe and
made another trial farther to the eastward. Walking now in advance of
the dogs, they were inspired with greater courage. I had not proceeded
far when I found the ice again giving way under the staff with which I
sounded its strength, and again we turned back and sought a more eastern
passage.

“Two hours consumed in efforts of this kind, during which we had worked
about 4 miles out to sea, convinced me that the ice outside the bay was
wholly impassable.”

An attempt to cross farther up the bay also proved a failure, and by
walking a few miles along the shore Hayes believed he saw the head of
the bay about 20 miles distant. Next day he climbed to the top of a
cliff supposed to be about 800 feet above the level of the sea.

“The view which I had from this elevation furnished a solution of the
cause of my progress being arrested on the previous day.

“The ice was everywhere in the same condition as in the mouth of the
bay, across which I had endeavoured to pass. A broad crack, starting
from the middle of the bay, stretched over the sea, and uniting with
other cracks as it meandered to the eastward, it expanded as the delta
of some mighty river discharging into the ocean, and under a water-sky,
which hung upon the northern and eastern horizon, it was lost in the
open sea.

“Standing against the dark sky at the north, there was seen in dim
outline the white sloping summit of a noble headland—the most northern
known land upon the globe. I judged it to be in latitude 82° 30′, or 450
miles from the North Pole. Nearer, another bold cape stood forth; and
nearer still the headland, for which I had been steering my course the
day before, rose majestically from the sea, as if pushing up into the
very skies a lofty mountain peak, upon which the winter had dropped its
diadem of snows. There was no land visible except the coast upon which I
stood.”

The large bay which Hayes here refers to was named Lady Franklin Bay.
The place from which his observations were made, Hayes gives as in
latitude 81° 35′, longitude 70° 30′ W. Finding his way to the north
impassable, he decided to return. Hayes at this point came to the
conclusion that he was near the shores of the Polar Basin, and that
Kennedy Channel expanded into it. After building a cairn and leaving a
record in a small glass vial, he started on his return journey.

A storm came on soon after Hayes and his companion set out. They at
first tried to shelter in the lee of a huge ice-cliff, but as they had
now given the dogs the last of their food, they decided to face the
snowstorm and make for the camp where Jensen had been left. This was
reached in twenty-two hours under great difficulties. Hayes and Knorr
had fasted thirty-four hours, and were completely exhausted. On the
return journey to the ship they had to depend entirely on the small
caches which had been left on the outward journey. Fortunately, all of
these, with one exception, were undisturbed. By the time they reached
Cape Hawks and were about to cross the Sound, Jensen’s leg had so far
improved that he was able to walk. Near the Greenland coast the ice was
beginning to give way, and it was with difficulty that they reached
land. Part of the journey to the ship had then to be made on foot across
the mountains.

During the absence of Hayes, McCormick the sailing-master had examined
the ship, and found that the damage sustained in the ice was serious. He
repaired it as well as he could, but it was not now in a condition to
stand any further collision with the ice. This was a great
disappointment to Hayes, as he intended, as soon as the ice broke up, to
make another attempt with the ship to cross the Sound, and pass up the
west coast.

On the 3rd of July, Hayes describes a walrus-hunt:—

“I have had a walrus-hunt and a most exciting day’s sport. Much ice has
broken adrift and come down the Sound during the past few days; and,
when the sun is out bright and hot, the walrus come up out of the water
to sleep and bask in the warmth on the pack. Being upon the hilltop this
morning to select a place for building a cairn, my ear caught the hoarse
bellowing of numerous walrus; and, upon looking over the sea, I observed
that the tide was carrying the pack across the outer limit of the bay,
and that it was alive with the beasts, which were filling the air with
such uncouth noises. Their number appeared to be even beyond conjecture,
for they extended as far as the eye could reach, almost every piece of
ice being covered. There must have been, indeed, many hundreds, or even
thousands.

“Hurrying from the hill, I called for volunteers, and quickly had a
boat’s crew ready for some sport. Putting three rifles, a harpoon, and a
line into one of the whale-boats, we dragged it over the ice to the open
water, into which it was speedily launched.

“We had about 2 miles to pull before the margin of the pack was reached.
On the cake of ice to which we first came, there were perched about two
dozen animals; and these we selected for the attack. They covered the
raft almost completely, lying huddled together, lounging in the sun or
lazily rolling and twisting themselves about, as if to expose some fresh
part of their unwieldy bodies to the warmth,—great, ugly, wallowing
sea-hogs, they were evidently enjoying themselves, and were without
apprehension of approaching danger. We neared them slowly, with muffled
oars.

“As the distance between us and the game steadily narrowed, we began to
realise that we were likely to meet with rather formidable antagonists.
Their aspect was forbidding in the extreme, and our sensations were
perhaps not unlike those which the young soldier experiences who hears
for the first time the order to charge the enemy. We should all, very
possibly, have been quite willing to retreat had we dared own it. Their
tough, nearly hairless hides, which are about an inch thick, had a
singularly iron-plated look about them, peculiarly suggestive of
defence; while their huge tusks, which they brandished with an
appearance of strength that their awkwardness did not diminish, looked
like very formidable weapons of offence if applied to a boat’s planking
or to the human ribs, if one should happen to find himself floundering
in the sea among the thick-skinned brutes. To complete the hideousness
of a facial expression which the tusks rendered formidable enough in
appearance, Nature had endowed them with broad flat noses, which were
covered all over with stiff whiskers, looking much like porcupine
quills, and extending up to the edge of a pair of gaping nostrils. The
use of these whiskers is as obscure as that of the tusks; though it is
probable that the latter may be as well weapons of offence and defence
as for the more useful purpose of grubbing up from the bottom of the sea
the mollusks which constitute their principal food. There were two old
bulls in the herd who appeared to be dividing their time between
sleeping and jamming their tusks into each other’s faces, although they
appeared to treat the matter with perfect indifference, as they did not
seem to make any impression on each other’s thick hides. As we
approached, these old fellows—neither of which could have been less
than 16 feet long, nor smaller in girth than a hogshead—raised up their
heads, and, after taking a leisurely survey of us, seemed to think us
unworthy of further notice; and then, punching each other again in the
face, fell once more asleep. This was exhibiting a degree of coolness
rather alarming. If they had showed the least timidity we should have
found some excitement in extra caution; but they seemed to make so light
of our approach that it was not easy to keep up the bold front with
which we had commenced the adventure. But we had come quite too far to
think of backing out; so we pulled in and made ready for the fray.

“Beside the old bulls, the group contained several cows and a few calves
of various sizes,—some evidently yearlings, others but recently born,
and others half or three-quarters grown. Some were without tusks, while
on others they were just sprouting; and above this they were of all
sizes up to those of the big bulls, which had great curved cones of
ivory, nearly 3 feet long. At length we were within a few boats’ lengths
of the ice-raft, and the game had not taken alarm. They had probably
never seen a boat before. Our preparations were made as we approached.
The walrus will always sink when dead, unless held up by a harpoon-line;
and there was therefore but two chances for us to secure our
game—either to shoot the beast dead on the raft, or to get a harpoon
well into him after he was wounded, and hold on to him until he was
killed. As to killing the animal where he lay, that was not likely to
happen, for the thick skin destroys the force of the ball before it can
reach any vital part, and indeed, at a distance, actually flattens it;
and the skull is so heavy that it is hard to penetrate with an ordinary
bullet, unless the ball happens to strike through the eye.

“To Miller, a cool and spirited fellow, who had been after whales on the
‘nor’-west coast,’ was given the harpoon, and he took his station in the
bows; while Knorr, Jensen, and myself kept our places in the
stern-sheets, and held our rifles in readiness. Each selected his
animal, and we fired in concert over the heads of the oarsmen. As soon
as the rifles were discharged, I ordered the men to ‘give way,’ and the
boat shot right among the startled animals as they rolled off pell-mell
into the sea. Jensen had fired at the head of one of the bulls, and hit
him in the neck; Knorr killed a young one, which was pushed off in the
hasty scramble and sank; while I planted a minie-bullet somewhere in the
head of the other bull and drew from him a most frightful
bellow—louder, I venture to say, than ever came from wild bull of
Bashan. When he rolled over into the water, which he did with a splash
that sent the spray flying all over us, he almost touched the bows of
the boat, and gave Miller a good opportunity to get in his harpoon,
which he did in capital style.

“The alarmed herd seemed to make straight for the bottom, and the line
spun out over the gunwale at a fearful pace; but having several coils in
the boat, the end was not reached before the animals began to rise, and
we took in the slack and got ready for what was to follow. The strain of
the line whipped the boat around among some loose fragments of ice, and
the line having fouled among it, we should have been in great jeopardy
had not one of the sailors promptly sprung out, cleared the line, and
defended the boat.

“In a few minutes the whole herd appeared at the surface, about 50 yards
away from us, the harpooned animal being among them. Miller held fast to
his line, and the boat was started with a rush. The coming up of the
herd was the signal for a scene which baffles description. They uttered
one wild concerted shriek, as if an agonised call for help; and then the
air was filled with answering shrieks. The ‘huk! huk! huk!’ of the
wounded bulls seemed to find an echo everywhere, as the cry was taken up
and passed along from floe to floe, like the bugle-blast passed from
squadron to squadron along a line of battle; and down from every piece
of ice plunged the startled beasts, as quickly as the sailor drops from
his hammock when the long-roll beats to quarters. With their ugly heads
just above the water, and with mouths wide open, belching forth the
dismal ‘huk! huk! huk!’ they came tearing toward the boat.

“In a few moments we were completely surrounded, and the numbers kept
multiplying with astonishing rapidity. The water soon became alive and
black with them.

“They seemed at first to be frightened and irresolute, and for a time it
did not seem that they meditated mischief; but this pleasing prospect
was soon dissipated, and we were forced to look well to our safety.

“That they meditated an attack there could no longer be a doubt. To
escape the onslaught was impossible. We had raised a hornet’s nest about
our ears in a most astonishingly short space of time, and we must do the
best we could. Even the wounded animal to which we were fast turned upon
us, and we became the focus of at least a thousand gaping, bellowing
mouths.

“It seemed to be the purpose of the walrus to get their tusks over the
gunwale of the boat, and it was evident that, in the event of one such
monster hooking on to us, the boat would be torn in pieces, and we would
be left floating in the sea helpless. We had good motive, therefore, to
be active. Miller plied his lance from the bows, and gave many a serious
wound. The men pushed back the onset with their oars, while Knorr,
Jensen, and myself loaded and fired our rifles as rapidly as we could.
Several times we were in great jeopardy, but the timely thrust of an
oar, or the lance, or a bullet saved us. Once I thought we were surely
gone. I had fired, and was hastening to load; a wicked-looking brute was
making at us, and it seemed probable that he would be upon us. I stopped
loading, and was preparing to cram my rifle down his throat, when Knorr,
who had got ready his weapon, sent a fatal shot into his head. Again, an
immense animal, the largest that I had ever seen, and with tusks
apparently 3 feet long, was observed to be making his way through the
herd with mouth wide open, bellowing dreadfully. I was now as before
busy loading; Knorr and Jensen had just discharged their pieces, and the
men were well engaged with their oars. It was a critical moment, but
happily I was in time. The monster, his head high above the boat, was
within 2 feet of the gunwale, when I raised my piece and fired into his
mouth. The discharge killed him instantly, and he went down like a
stone.

“This ended the fray. I know not why, but the whole herd seemed suddenly
to take alarm, and all dove down with a tremendous splash almost at the
same instant. When they came up again, still shrieking as before, they
were some distance from us, their heads all now pointed seaward, making
from us as fast as they could go, their cries growing more and more
faint as they retreated in the distance. We must have killed at least a
dozen, and mortally wounded as many more. The water was in places red
with blood, and several half-dead and dying animals lay floating about
us. The bull to which we were made fast pulled away with all his might
after the retreating herd, but his strength soon became exhausted; and,
as his speed slackened, we managed to haul in the line, and finally
approached him so nearly that our rifle-balls took effect, and Miller at
length gave him the _coup de grâce_ with his lance. We then drew him to
the nearest piece of ice, and I had soon a fine specimen to add to my
Natural History collections. Of the others we secured only one; the rest
had died and sunk before we reached them.

“I have never before regarded the walrus as a really formidable animal;
but this contest convinces me that I have done their courage great
injustice. They are full of fight; and had we not been very active and
self-possessed, our boat would have been torn to pieces, and we either
drowned or killed. A more fierce attack than that which they made upon
us could hardly be imagined, and a more formidable-looking enemy than
one of these huge monsters, with his immense tusks and bellowing throat,
would be difficult to find. Next time I try them I will arm my boat’s
crew with lances. The rifle is a poor reliance, and but for the oars,
the herd would have been on top of us at any time.”

Upon the top of the hill on the north side of the harbour a cairn was
constructed, and under it Hayes deposited a brief record of the voyage.
On the 11th July 1861, the ice broke up in the harbour, and the schooner
was once more afloat, after ten months’ imprisonment.

On the 13th July, Hayes took leave of the Esquimaux, who were sorry to
see him depart.

Hayes, although doubtful as to the prospect ahead, was determined not to
quit the field without making another attempt to reach the west coast
and endeavour to obtain some further information that might be of
service in the future. He still had a vague hope that, even with his
crippled vessel, some such good prospect might open before him as would
justify him in remaining. He therefore held once more for Cape Isabella,
but met the pack about 10 miles from the Greenland shore. He turned back
and anchored between Littleton and McGary Islands. After a few days’
delay, another attempt was made, and in two days the west coast was
reached near Gale Point, about 10 miles below Cape Isabella. Hayes then
took a whale-boat to the cape, but found it impassable.

His opinion of the situation was thus recorded at the time:—

“I am fully persuaded, if there still remained a lingering doubt, of the
correctness of my decision to return home, and come out next year
strengthened and refitted with steam. If my impulses lead me to try
conclusions once more with the ice, my judgment convinces me that it
would be at the risk of everything. As well use a Hudson River steamboat
for a battering-ram as this schooner, with her weakened bows, to
encounter the Smith Sound ice.

“I have secured the following important advantages for the future, and
with these I must, perforce, rest satisfied, for the present:—

“(1) I have brought my party through without sickness, and have thus
shown that the Arctic winter of itself breeds neither scurvy nor
discontent.

“(2) I have shown that men may subsist themselves in Smith Sound
independent of support from home.

“(3) That a self-sustaining colony may be established at Port Foulke,
and be made the basis of an extended exploration.

“(4) That the exploration of this entire region is practicable from Port
Foulke—having from that starting-point pushed my discoveries much
beyond those of my predecessors, without any second party in the field
to co-operate with me, and under the most adverse circumstances.

“(5) That, with a reasonable degree of certainty, it is shown that, with
a strong vessel, Smith Sound may be navigated and the open sea reached
beyond it.

“(6) I have shown that the open sea exists.”

In returning home, Hayes visited Whale Sound and explored it as far as
he could, and named Inglefield Gulf.

At Upernavik news was received of trouble in the United States, but it
was not till they put in to Halifax, Nova Scotia, that they learnt that
civil war had broken out. This was terrible news to Hayes. He had
intended to return to the Arctic regions with a ship fitted with
steam-power, and to continue his explorations. The war altered
everything. As soon as he reached Boston he wrote to the President,
asking for immediate employment in the public service, and offering his
schooner to the Government as a gun-boat.

Hayes’ book is written in delightful language, but grave doubts have
been cast upon the extent of his discoveries. It was afterwards found
that Lady Franklin Bay was 6 degrees farther east than Hayes placed it,
and the description given by Hayes of his farthest north does not agree
with what is seen in the neighbourhood of Lady Franklin Bay.




[Illustration: CHART of the Northern Portion of EAST-GREENLAND.]




                               CHAPTER IV
                    THE GERMAN EXPEDITION (1869−70)


The German Expedition left Bremerhaven on 15th June 1869. There were two
boats—the _Germania_ and the _Hansa_. The expedition was to make the
east coast of Greenland and then penetrate to the north as far as
possible.

The ice was reached on 15th July. On the 20th of July the two ships were
separated through a misunderstanding, and they never met again.

From the 20th of July till the end of August the _Hansa_ struggled
through the pack-ice which drifts along the coast of Greenland.
According to instructions, it was to attempt to reach Sabine Island, but
that was found impossible. At the end of August it became fast in the
ice, and drifted south.

On the 27th September the crew of the _Hansa_ began building a house
with coal-tiles on the floe. It was 20 feet long, 14 feet broad, and 6½
feet in the gable, while the side walls were 4 feet 8 inches high. For
cement, powdered snow was used, and over this water was poured, which
soon froze the whole into a compact mass.

About the middle of October the _Hansa_ was wrecked by the pressure of
the ice. It sprang a leak and slowly sank, and the crew had sufficient
time to save a good many necessary articles which were stacked round the
house on the floe.

The ice-field slowly but steadily drifted to the south. By the 3rd of
November it had passed the Liverpool coast, and had reached Scoresby’s
Sound. A walrus and several bears were shot, and supplied the party with
fresh meat. November and December passed, and nothing particular
happened. Christmas was spent in quite an enjoyable manner, after the
German fashion. On the 2nd of January 1870 a storm arose, and when it
was over it was discovered that half of the floe had been destroyed. On
the 11th another storm did great damage, and greatly reduced the size of
the floe. A huge gap opened in the ice near to the house, and all the
firewood drifted into the raging sea. The floe was now only 150 feet in
diameter, but during the night the masses of ice became closely packed
again. On the 14th another frightful storm was experienced: a fissure
opened in the ice under the house and the roof fell in, but fortunately
the inmates all escaped. Some shelter was obtained in the boats during
the next five nights, until a new house half the size of the old one was
built. This house had sleeping-room for only six men, so that from this
time the remainder had to sleep in the boats. It was not until the 7th
of May that the opportunity came to leave the floe in their boats. They
had spent 200 days on the ice. On the 4th of June they succeeded in
reaching the island of Illuidlek. They left the island on the 6th and
made for Friedrichsthal, the nearest colony on the south-west coast of
Greenland, which was reached on the 13th of June, and where they
received a hearty welcome. After a few days here, they journeyed to
Julianashaab, about 80 miles distant, from which they obtained a boat
for Europe.

                 *        *        *        *        *

After parting with the _Hansa_ on the 20th of July, the _Germania_
battled with the ice in various latitudes, and after great difficulties
succeeded in reaching Sabine Island on the 5th of August.

Sabine Island is one of the Pendulum Islands discovered by Clavering in
1823. The _Germania_ finally wintered in a little bay in the south-east
corner of the island, after making a trip to the north of Shannon
Island.

Several short sledging expeditions were made before winter set in, but
the main expedition to the north was made in the following spring.
Musk-oxen were plentiful, and several bears were shot. Deserted
Esquimaux huts were found, but no natives were seen by the Expedition.

The party had several serious adventures with bears. One of them is thus
described:—“Theodor Klentzer climbed the Germaniaberg to view the
landscape in the increasing midday light. Reaching the top, he seated
himself on a rock, and sang a song in the still air. As he looked behind
him, however, he saw, not many steps off, a huge bear, which with great
gravity was watching the stranger. Now, to our ‘Theodor,’ who was as
quiet and decided a man as he was powerful, this would, under other
circumstances, have been nothing; for the bear stood wonderfully well
for a shot, and could not easily be missed; but Klentzer was totally
unarmed, not having even a knife. Incredible! is it not? But, as
Lieutenant Payer writes, ‘the bears always come when one has forgotten
all about them.’

“Thus Klentzer saw himself unarmed and alone, far from his companions,
and close to the bear. Flight was the only, though a doubtful, chance of
safety, and the audacious thought struck him of plunging down the steep
side of the glacier; but he chose the softer side-slope, and began to
hurry down the mountain. Upon looking back, after a time, he perceived
the great bear trotting behind him at a little distance, like a great
dog. Thus they descended the mountain for some time. If Klentzer halted,
so did the bear; when he went on, the bear followed slowly; if he began
to run, the bear did the same. Thus the two had gone some distance, and
Klentzer thought seriously of saving himself, as the bear, finding the
chase somewhat wearisome, might press close upon his heels. He therefore
uttered a loud shout, but the bear, only disconcerted for a moment,
seemed to get more angry and approached quicker, so that he seemed to
feel the hot breath of the monster. At this dreadful moment—and it was
most likely his preservation—he remembered the stories he had heard,
and while running, pulled off his jacket, throwing it behind him. And
see! the trick answers: the bear stops and begins to examine the jacket.
Klentzer gains courage, rushes on down the mountain, sending out a shout
for help, which resounds through the silent region. But soon the bear is
again at his heels, and he must throw away cap and waistcoat, by which
he gains a little. Now Klentzer sees help approaching—several friends
hurrying over the ice. Collecting his last strength, he shouts and runs
on. But help seems in vain, for the pursuer hurries too, and he is
obliged to take the last thing he has, his shawl, which he throws
exactly over the monster’s snout, who, more excited still by renewed
shouting, throws it back again contemptuously with a toss of the head,
and presses forward upon the defenceless man, who feels his cold black
snout touch his hand. Klentzer now gave himself up for lost; he could do
no more; but the wonderful thought struck him of fastening up the bear’s
throat with the leather belt which he wore round his body. Fixedly he
stared into the merciless eyes of the beast—one short moment of
doubt—the bear was startled, his attention seemed drawn aside, and the
next moment he was off at a gallop.”

Another bear incident had a more serious ending:—

“We were sitting (writes Lieutenant Payer) fortunately silent in the
cabin, when Koldewey suddenly heard a faint cry for help. We all
hurriedly tumbled up the companion-ladder to the deck, when an
exclamation from Börgen, ‘A bear is carrying me off!’ struck painfully
on our ears.

“It was quite dark; we could scarcely see anything, but we made directly
for the quarter whence the cry proceeded, armed with poles, weapons,
etc., over hummocks and drifts, when an alarm-shot, which we fired in
the air, seemed to make some little impression, as the bear dropped his
prey and ran forward a few paces. He turned again, however, dragging his
victim over the broken shore-ice, close to a field which stretched in a
southerly direction. All depended upon our coming up with him before he
could reach this field, as he would carry his prey over the open plain
with the speed of a horse, and thus escape. We succeeded. The bear
turned upon us for a moment, and then, scared by our continuous fire,
let fall his prey.

“We lifted our poor comrade up on to the ice, to bear him to his
cabin—a task which was rendered somewhat difficult by the slippery and
uneven surface of the ice. But after we had gone a little way, Börgen
implored us to make as much haste as possible. On procuring a light, the
coldest nature would have been shocked at the spectacle which poor
Börgen presented. The bear had torn his scalp in several places, and he
had received several injuries in other parts of his body. His clothes
and hair were saturated with blood. We improvised a couch for him in the
rear of our own cabin, as his own was not large enough.

“The first operation was performed upon him on the cabin table. And here
we may briefly notice the singular fact that, although he had been
carried more than 100 paces with his skull almost laid bare, at a
temperature of −13° F., his scalp healed so perfectly that not a single
portion was missing.”

Börgen’s narrative was as follows:—

“About a quarter before 9 p.m. I had gone out to observe the occupation
of a star, which was to take place about that time, and also to take the
meteorological readings. As I was in the act of getting on shore,
Captain Koldewey came on to the ice. We spoke for a few moments, when I
went on shore, while he returned to the cabin. On my return from the
observatory, about 50 steps from the vessel, I heard a rustling noise to
the left, and became aware of the proximity of a bear. There was no time
to think, or to use my gun. The grip was so sudden and rapid that I am
unable to say how it was done; whether the bear rose and struck me down
with his fore-paws, or whether he ran me down. But from the character of
the injuries I have sustained (contusions and a deep cut of the left
ear), I conclude that the former must have been the case. The next thing
I felt was the tearing of my scalp, which was only protected by a
skull-cap. This is their mode of attacking seals, but, owing to the
slipperiness of their skulls, the teeth glide off. The cry of help which
I uttered frightened the animal for a moment; but he turned again and
bit me several times on the head. The alarm had meanwhile been heard by
the captain, who had not yet reached the cabin. He hurried on deck,
convinced himself that it was really an alarm, roused up the crew and
hastened on to the ice, bringing assistance to his struggling comrade.
The noise evidently frightened the bear, and he trotted off with his
prey, which he dragged by the head. A shot fired to frighten the
creature effected its purpose, inasmuch as he dropped me, and sprang a
few steps aside; but he immediately seized me by the arm, and, his hold
proving insufficient, he seized me by the right hand, on which was a fur
glove, and this gave the pursuers time to come up with the brute, which
had by its great speed left them far behind. He was now making for the
shore, and would certainly have escaped with his prey, had he succeeded
in climbing the bank. However, as he came to the edge of the ice, he
turned along the coast-side, continuing on the rough and broken ice,
which greatly retarded his speed, and thus allowed his pursuers upon the
ice to gain rapidly upon him. After being dragged in this way for about
300 paces, almost strangled by my shawl, which the bear had seized at
the same time, he dropped me, and immediately afterwards Koldewey was
bending over me with the words, ‘Thank God! he is still alive!’ The bear
stood a few paces on one side, evidently undecided what course to
pursue, until a bullet gave him a hint that it was high time to take
himself off.

“No one thought of pursuing him, for their first care was to carry the
wounded man on board, whither the doctor and Herr Tranmitz had gone in
order to prepare the requisites for binding up the wounds. The main
injuries were in the head, where, amongst numerous other wounds from the
bites, two especially from 4 to 6 inches long ran along the scalp, the
edges of which hung loose, leaving the skull bare for one-third to
two-fifths of an inch. The other wounds, about twenty in number, were in
part caused by striking against the fragments and rough broken edges of
the ice. It is worth while mentioning that, neither during the act of
receiving the wounds nor during the process of healing, which progressed
favourably, did I experience the smallest pain.”

The sledge-journey to the north left on the 8th March 1870. The party
consisted of ten men, and they had two sledges. The smaller sledge had
four men who were to accompany the expedition for a week, and then
return after laying a dépôt. A storm and the low temperature forced them
to return to the ship a few days after leaving.

On the 24th March they started again. During the first day one of the
men had the whole of his right foot frost-bitten, and the convoy-sledge
had to return to the ship. A herd of musk-oxen was seen on Hochstetter’s
Promontory, but none was shot. A bear was killed on the 4th of April,
and supplied the party with meat, and his fat served as fuel four days.
On the 6th of April they crossed the 76° of latitude, and on the south
side of Cape Karl Ritter discovered traces of Esquimaux summer tents. On
the 11th April, Cape Bismarck in 76° 47′ was reached, and this was the
end of the actual sledge-journey. Leaving their tent here, they
journeyed to a mountain in 77° 1′ north latitude, and 18° 50′ west
longitude, where a cairn was erected. Provisions were now running short,
and they were compelled to return. Two musk-oxen were shot at Cape
Bismarck. Like many of the other expeditions about this period, they
suffered greatly from want of snow-shoes, and frequently had to wade
through snow up to the thighs. The difficulties of such a sledge-journey
are well described by Lieutenant Payer:—

“Amongst other disagreeables of an Arctic sledge-journey is its
monotony. The ideas and wishes contained within the limited horizon of
life in the Arctic world pass as quickly away as the eye is wearied by
the monotony of the landscape.

“Conversation carried on by men straining at the traces can certainly
not be very animated. The frost prevents smoking, for the pipes freeze.
There is a continued conflict against the loss of warmth; and the cold
penetrates in a hundred different ways. Now the chin is numbed, a
painful straining of the forehead sets in, or a violent pricking of the
nostrils, which are exposed to the wind. Sometimes one stands in danger
of the heels, the toes, or the hands being frost-bitten. The hair of the
face, and even the eyelashes, get hoar with frost,—indeed, the eyes are
often completely closed,—and every frozen spot on the body must at once
be rubbed with lumps of snow resembling pumice-stone, until a warm,
pricking glow succeeds. When, as in the case of many of our party, the
frozen hands or feet were not rubbed with snow until too late, it led to
numerous blisters. The fingers swelled up into lumps, and became quite
numbed; but the noses (the whole eight of which were frozen) were more
fortunate: they emerged from a white into a red stage of enlarged
dimensions, were eventually covered with a parchment-like skin,
remaining for some time most sensitive, and by slow degrees regained
their normal condition, so that by the time we landed in Europe they
were all right again. The heat of our bodies, which we did our best to
retain by warm woollen clothes, was carried away in a moment by the
slightest wind; and if it increased, the cold crept between every button
of our seal-skin clothing; the penetrating icy wind was felt at every
stitch; the arms hung down like lead, deadly cold, and no one dared to
walk about without a mask. If the wind rose still more, curtains of
penetrating snow-crystals rose with it from the ground; then a
snowstorm, which always comes from the north, might be expected,
announcing itself by a lofty white appearance in the south, the violet
colour and close proximity of the mountains, and low-hanging clouds. But
still we risk the march forward against the thickening snow, until
painful breathing and stiffening limbs warn us to pitch our tent.

“Under ordinary circumstances this was done about 6 or 7 p.m., on a
smooth surface. A hole was quickly dug with shovels, on which the tent
was erected, and the dug-out blocks of snow laid round it for safety
against the storm, and the sledge placed as a shield to the north. The
tent was kept upright by means of four long poles, each crossed at the
top, stretched by ropes fastened to axes or piles driven into the
ground. When the sleeping-sack had been laid down in the tent, our
personal baggage settled, the kettle filled with blocks of snow by the
cook, the lamp lit, and the rations given out, our comrades, who, owing
to the increased cold since the setting of the sun, had meanwhile been
running and jumping to keep themselves warm, were allowed to enter.

“During our last half-hour’s march, each man had been busy thawing his
beard with his hands, for it had been changed into a lump of ice, so
that it might not melt whilst the cooking was going on, and so wet their
clothes and coverings. As soon as all were in their places in the tent,
the aperture was closed, and preparations made for passing the night.

“The stiff sail-cloth boots, fast frozen to the stockings which were to
form our pillows, were thawed between the hands, and with difficulty
taken off; the stockings, thick with rimy snow, were scraped, then wrung
and laid upon the breast, to dry by our only available means—our bodily
heat—so as to prepare them for the following day’s work.

“At last all have wriggled themselves into the sleeping−sack, each one
lying partly on his neighbour, and in this modest space waiting for the
evening meal.

“The first hour is spent in melting the snow, the second in preparing
the meal, which is devoured eagerly, and as cool as possible. The
development of steam during the cooking (which in the very cold weather
consumed one bottle of spirit, or 1 lb.) put us into such a vapour-bath
that we could not even see our next neighbour; the tent walls were
completely wet through; and the temperature rose rapidly. The dampness
of the coverings and clothes, from the condensation of the steam on the
rime, of course increased, and the opening of the tent door occasioned a
fall of snow within, so that by the time the cooking was over, all was
covered with a thick coating of ice or crust of snow.

“It is about eight or nine o’clock: the small rations of boiled beef,
soup, and vegetables are no longer enough to allay the daily increasing
hunger; but sleep buries that, as well as our burning thirst, in
oblivion. Only occasionally did our sparing supply of spirits allow us
to prepare an extra quantity of water.

“During the march each one carried an india-rubber or tin bottle full of
snow, on his bare body, turned as much as possible to the sun, and often
after many hours only a few spare spoonfuls (and sometimes nothing)
could be obtained from it.

“Last of all, the cook, after cleaning out the kettle, also fights his
way into the sleeping-sack, which thus attains its proper complement. A
side position is the only one possible—to-night all lie to the left,
to-morrow all to the right. Comfortable positions, such as stretching on
one’s back for example, meet with a miserable protest, as well as any
other after-movement; and when at length silence falls upon all, the
eight men form one single lump.

“The nose acts no longer merely as a condenser, as on the spring
journey; it now becomes a cold-pole, and leaving it outside the rimy and
icy covering is preferable to burying it in the questionable atmosphere
of the sack. The mouth, as the only outlet of exhalation, must remain
open, but the teeth get so cold that they feel like icicles, and the
mask, which it is necessary to wear in the night, freezes to the long
beard.

“Happy were those who, during the lowest temperature within the first
fourteen days of our journey, could really lose themselves during the
hours of rest, if only for a short time, for they were generally passed
in a painful waiting for a happy release, by—dragging!

“This general wakefulness made it unnecessary to set a special watch for
bears and foxes, which occasionally made a bold raid upon the stores in
the sledge, for they had never yet succeeded in approaching us quite
noiselessly.

“In spite of all efforts to the contrary, the cutting cold too soon
penetrated the sleeping-sack; within the tent the temperature sinks from
60° or 65° to below zero, and the body has to be again refreshed with
artificial warmth, by motion and hot food.

“The natural consequences of this state of temperature is a continually
increasing sensation of freezing until the morning. During the day the
sack has got thoroughly cold on the sledge, and must again be warmed by
bodily heat, being frozen into thick folds as hard as iron. Whoever lies
upon these seems to be lying on laths, which towards morning begin to
lose their sharpness. One or the other, we keep a bottle of snow about
us. All are shivering, scarcely any sleep. For hours together we are in
a state of suffocation, the pressure on either side causing a feeling as
though the collar-bone was being forced into the chest and the shoulders
crushed. Each lies upon his arm (which of course goes to sleep), and is
often prevented from breathing by the smell of train-oil proceeding from
his neighbour’s seal-skin. The breath condenses over the face and upon
the sloping tent-side, in long snow-webs, which fall at the slightest
movement.

“The misery of tent-life reaches its maximum during an uninterrupted
snowstorm of sometimes three days’ duration. So long as this assumes the
form of a hurricane, no one can leave the tent without danger of either
being suffocated or blown away. These Greenland snowstorms, which carry
small stones with them, greatly resemble West Indian hurricanes, only
that the sun is completely darkened by the rush of snow.

“Of course our tents would soon have been blown over, if some
precautions had not been taken. Great distress reigned within. The wind
greatly lessened the already small space by pressing in the walls.
Through the canvas, through every stitch or smallest opening, spurts a
small flood of the finest snow, like flour out of a flour-mill, or
collects itself on the inner surface, where its ever-increasing weight
at length brings it down like small avalanches. As long as the storm
rages the cold is alleviated from the equalisation of warm air over the
sea, though it seldom allows any heat to remain in the tent, so that we
were still in a cold of from 14° to 5° F.

“By degrees a covering of snow at least an inch thick lies on the sack,
under which we must patiently wait till the storm ceases. We scrape it
away with the knife, but it soon returns again. On some occasions this
snow began to melt, and penetrate the clothes, making us look like seals
coming up out of the water.

“In a steadily rising temperature, too, the snow on which we lay would
melt, and the sack get wet underneath, not to dry again till the summer,
but freeze on the sledge in those hard folds we dreaded so much. We
repeatedly felt the want of india-rubber coverings.

“This state of things often lasted from two to three days, and we waited
with an indifference bordering on stupidity, sitting squeezed, with
numbed hands, mending the gloves or stockings, almost freezing, masked;
beards full of ice, stuffed up with a chaos of frozen clothes and boots,
and, worst of all, fasting. The duration of the journey, as well as the
extent of country to be explored, depended upon the use of the
provisions. If, therefore, some part of the time was lost through
storms, this loss, in spite of hunger, thirst, and loss of strength,
could only be regained by reduced rations, which often only consisted of
a thin soup.

“The saucepan has become leaky, a small sea has formed on the sack, the
spirit-lamp runs, and repeatedly threatens to destroy the tent by fire,
which, during the storm, would be the work of a moment. The cook
grumbles, burns his fingers to-day which were frozen yesterday;—urged
on by hunger, his cooking is subject to sharp criticism, as each is
waiting for the eventful moment when the meal shall be ready.

“All food was frozen—even brandy began to freeze one night—meat in the
tins or ham had to be chopped with the axe; butter could, without any
fear, be carried in the waistcoat-pocket, to be enjoyed on the march.

“Woe to the unfortunate man who, in a lull of the storm, goes into the
open air. He is almost torn to pieces, stifled by the snow-filled air,
betrayed into snow-drifts, and yet not daring to open his eyes. Numbed
with cold, white as a miller, he returns to the tent. Here he is a
subject of horror to his neighbours in the sack, whom he intends robbing
of their warmth to thaw himself. The snow-powder blown in upon the
opening of the tent door has penetrated through all the clothes, and the
skin has to be scraped and any frost-bites that may have set in have to
be dispersed by rubbing. Indeed, the disturbance and excitement
consequent upon a walk in the open air does not subside for some hours.

“But the snow-blind suffer the most from such a state of things. Out of
consideration to them, smoking was dropped.

“The irritation caused by the white snowflakes, which with us are easily
beaten aside, cause great suffering in Greenland, from the inflamed
state of the eyes and the thick heavy atmosphere, to those who may have
been unfortunate enough to break their snow-spectacles.

“Beating them off while on the march is impossible, for the damp cloth
freezes at once to a lump of ice, making the eyes insupportably cold.
The simple bandage, on the other hand, does not save one from the steady
burning pain, which acts like needle-pricks. Opening the eye for a
moment is not to be thought of. The blind are obliged to pull with the
others, as the laden sledge cannot be moved but by our united strength.

“As a rule, we break up about 5 a.m. The thin black coffee is taken with
some ice-cold bread-dust, which effectually destroys all its warming
properties, mixed into it like a mash, and then follows laborious
packing up of the clothes, in order to be prepared for all weathers. The
frozen boots must first be thawed with the hands, and the folds taken
out, the tent freed from snow, and beaten until pliable. The
sleeping-sack receives the same treatment, which, as a sign of our
disgust and its daily increasing weight from the ice, we named ‘the
Walrus.’

“The soaked seal-skin clothing freezes at once in the air, and damp
condenses on the hair in frost-blossoms. One or the other rubs his face
with scraped snow to refresh his eyes—a novel kind of washing, in
default of water, though with the slightest breath of wind his hands are
in danger of freezing. After every snowstorm, tent and sledge have to be
dug out, and the contents cleaned with difficulty.

“All this business occupies about two hours, when the traces are taken
up with great satisfaction, as a long-looked-for release from the pain
of the nightly couch. The sledge is loosened from its frozen position,
and the journey continued, which, after twenty-three days, brought us to
77° of latitude, the most northerly point ever reached on the east coast
of Greenland.”

The coast along which this sledge-journey was made was found to be much
broken up, and the opinion was formed that the land might possibly
resolve itself into a group of islands.

The ice having broken up, the _Germania_ left its winter harbour on 22nd
July, and steamed northwards. In 75° 29′ it was stopped by ice, and had
to return to the south. Kaiser Franz-Joseph’s Fjord was afterwards
explored; and on the 17th of August the return home to Germany was
begun. By the 25th of August they were clear of the ice.

“On the 10th of September we were a few miles from Heligoland. A heavy
storm blew from the south-west, but in the evening shifted to the
north-west, enabling us to run in to shore. At daybreak, though we had
seen no pilot, we recognised Langerooge, and steered along the Southwall
to the mouth of the Weser. No sign of a ship! The Weser seemed to have
died out. Where are the pilots hidden? Are they lying _perdu_ on account
of yesterday’s storm? Well, then, we must run into the Weser without
them; the wind is favourable, the weather clear, the outer buoy will be
easy to find; there is the church-tower of Wangerooge. Suspecting
nothing, we steered on; the tower bears S.S.W., south-west by south,
south-west, but no buoy in sight. The captain and steersman look at each
other in astonishment. Can we have been so mistaken and out of our
reckoning? But no! That is certainly Wangerooge; the depth of water
agrees, our compass is correct. No doubt about it, we are in the Weser;
something unusual must have happened! Still no sail in sight! But what
is that? Yonder are the roads. There are several large vessels under
steam; they at least can give us some information. So we make for them.
We saluted the German flag, and soon the cry was heard, ‘War, war with
France; Napoleon is prisoner! France has declared a Republic; our armies
are before Paris!’ And then, ‘_Hansa_ destroyed in the ice, crew
saved.’”




                               CHAPTER V
                   VOYAGE OF THE _POLARIS_ (1871−73)


Captain Charles Francis Hall, after having dwelt with the Esquimaux
about eight years, during which he lived like one of them and acquired
their language, returned to America in 1869.

He had a great ambition to reach the spot “where there is no North, no
East, no West.” Early in 1870 he began his agitation for an expedition
to the North Pole. He lectured in various parts of the United States,
and received encouragement from the Hon. George M. Robeson, Secretary of
the United States Navy. Ultimately a wooden river gun-boat of 387 tons,
called the _Periwinkle_, was given to Hall, and was afterwards
rechristened _Polaris_. Congress also granted 50,000 dollars.

Hall, who was not himself a seaman, engaged Captain S. O. Budington as
sailing-master. Captain Budington had made thirteen whaling voyages to
Baffin’s Bay, and was therefore an experienced ice-navigator. Dr.
Bessels was naturalist, and Mr. Meyer meteorologist. Morton, of Kane’s
expedition, also accompanied Hall. Mr. Grinnell, the munificent promoter
of expeditions for the search of Franklin, presented Hall with the flag
which, in 1838, had been with Wilkes to the Antarctic regions, and which
had since been in the northern Polar seas with De Haven, Kane, and
Hayes.

Hall’s first intention was to proceed up Jones Sound, but his opinion
regarding this route changed before he left the States. He trusted
chiefly to dogs for his sledge-travelling, and did not expect to reach a
higher latitude than 80° during the first year.

The _Polaris_ left New London on 3rd July 1871, and St. John’s on 19th
July. The coast of Greenland was first seen on 27th July, and Upernavik
was reached on 19th August. Here Hans, of Kane’s and Hayes’ expedition,
was engaged as dog-driver and servant, and received a salary of 300
dollars per annum. His wife and three children, who were dressed in
ragged and filthy skin clothing, accompanied him. Their luggage
consisted of tents, tools, cooking utensils, implements of the chase,
and three or four puppies whose eyes could scarcely bear the light.

The _Polaris_ was first stopped by the ice off the western shore of
Hakluyt Island, about 5 a.m. on the 27th August, but by forcing ahead,
open water was reached the same day. At 3 p.m. on that day the _Polaris_
was opposite Cape Alexander; at 5 p.m. it was off Littleton Island;
Cairn Point was passed at 6.30; and at 8 p.m. the parallel of Rensselaer
Harbour was reached.

Smith Sound was found quite open. At midnight a heavy pack was seen, but
in about two hours its south-western point was rounded. At 3.30 a.m. on
the 28th, Cape Hawks was on the port beam, about 15 miles distant.

The width of the southern entrance of Kennedy Channel was estimated to
be about 35 miles, and it was found to narrow towards the north to about
25 miles.

The highest latitude, estimated by Hall to be 82° 26′, but afterwards
corrected to 82° 11′, was reached at 6 a.m. on the 30th August. Hall had
therefore passed from Cape Alexander, at the entrance of Smith Sound, to
his highest point in Robeson Channel, in about two and a half days. He
had carried his ship much farther north than any ship had ever reached
before.

The barrier of ice had now been reached, and it became necessary to
search for a harbour. Steaming southwards, a little bay was seen, but
after two attempts to enter it, Hall had to acknowledge defeat. He named
it “Repulse Harbour.”

Budington wished the _Polaris_ to take winter quarters in Newman Bay,
but Hall decided to try and reach the west coast. After boring for a
distance of 12 miles, the _Polaris_ was beset, and was not released
until the 4th September, when a course was made for the eastern shore.
On the 5th September the anchor was dropped about 300 yards from shore,
in latitude 81° 37′, and about 4 miles south of Cape Lupton.

Hall named Robeson Channel after the Secretary to the Navy, and the
Harbour was named “Thank-God Harbour.”

A large quantity of provisions and stores was now landed, and
preparations were at once made to explore the surrounding neighbourhood.

Traces of Esquimaux were soon found; and on the 6th September, Hall and
some of his companions ascended Cape Lupton, from which Robeson Channel
could be seen as far as Cape Union. The bay extending from Cape Lupton
to Cape Budington was named “Polaris Bay.”

A hunting-party was sent out on 18th September. It returned on the 23rd,
and reported having killed a musk-ox. This was very interesting news, as
it was the first musk-ox ever seen on the west coast of Greenland.

On 10th October, Captain Hall, Mr. Chester, and the Esquimaux Joe and
Hans started on a sledge-journey towards the north. On the 15th, Hall
camped in sight of a bay which he named “Newman Bay.” On the 18th, Hall
and Mr. Chester ascended to the top of Cape Brevoort, situated on the
north side of this bay. The return journey was made from this point.

During this journey the party slept in snow-houses. They returned to the
ship on 24th October. All were well with the exception of Captain Hall.
He complained of not having his usual amount of energy. Soon after his
return he became sick and vomited a good deal. Dr. Bessels announced
that same evening that Hall’s left side was paralysed and that he had
had an apoplectic attack. On the 29th he had marked symptoms of
insanity, and believed that an attempt was being made to poison him.
However, by the 6th November he had largely recovered, but at night he
again became alarmingly ill. On the 7th he became comatose, and died on
the morning of the 8th November. On the 10th November he was buried on
the shore of Polaris Bay, and a wooden monument was erected over his
grave.

It was a sad and unexpected ending to a life full of high hope.

On the death of Captain Hall, the command devolved upon Captain
Budington.

On the 18th November a severe gale began. It increased in violence on
the 19th, until the wind reached 52 miles per hour. It continued on the
20th and 21st, and on the latter date the _Polaris_ was found to be
afloat. With great difficulty the ship was secured to a large grounded
iceberg which was named “Providence Berg.” The _Polaris_ was thus saved
from being carried into the pack.

Nothing of special interest occurred during the remainder of the winter.
In March 1872, Joe the Eskimo, in one of his hunting expeditions,
discovered Petermann’s Fiord.

On 27th March a sledge-party in charge of Dr. Bessels set out with the
object of reaching Cape Constitution, Morton’s farthest, and
ascertaining its correct position. The party reached within 30 miles of
the cape, but had then to return.

The whole expedition were anxious to explore the region to the north,
but the strange conclusion was arrived at that it was necessary to
proceed in boats. The idea of the “open sea” had evidently some
influence with them. When a small channel formed it gave rise to high
hopes that a start with the boats would be made, but these hopes were
soon dashed when the channel closed again. Instead of setting out with
sledge-parties along the coast, the spring and part of the summer were
allowed to slip away while they waited for open water. Yet they were in
a more favourable position for making an advance towards the north of
Greenland than any party before or since.

On the 8th June a start was made from Cape Lupton with a boat, which had
previously been taken there, but it was crushed in the ice next day.

Another start was made on the 10th with two boats, and the party
succeeded in reaching Newman Bay without much difficulty, but found it
impossible to proceed farther north with the boats.

During the month of June the _Polaris_ leaked badly, and the pumps had
to be kept frequently at work. On the 26th of this month the ship was
liberated from the ice by means of saws, and Budington at once
determined to start for the north. On approaching Cape Sumner, however,
the pack was found to be impenetrable. After crossing to Cape Lieber
without finding an opening, the _Polaris_ returned to “Thank-God
Harbour.” On the 28th June, Budington received the news that the
boat-party was at Newman Bay, and he attempted to take the _Polaris_
north so as to pick up the boats, but the pack was again met at Cape
Sumner. He then sent instructions for the boat-party to return. The
boats were abandoned at Newman Bay, and the last of the party returned
to the _Polaris_ on 22nd July.

At the beginning of August, Budington determined to start towards the
south as soon as an opportunity presented itself. This occurred on the
12th August at 4.30 p.m. Next day a close pack was met, and the
_Polaris_ was fastened to a large floe and allowed to drift slowly down
the channel. Cape Constitution was passed on the 14th. During the rest
of the month, and throughout the whole of September, the drift southward
was very slow. On the 12th October the _Polaris_ was within 2 miles of
Cairn Point, and on the 14th Northumberland Island was visible. During
September and October a house was built on the floe.

On the 15th October a severe gale sprang up, and preparations had to be
made in case it was found necessary to abandon the ship. During her
drift southwards the _Polaris_ had been nipped several times, and was
leaking badly. During this gale she was again nipped so severely that
Budington ordered provisions and stores to be thrown upon the ice. The
Esquimaux women and children took refuge on the floe. While some of the
crew were carrying articles to a safe place on the floe, the _Polaris_
was suddenly drifted away from the ice. So quickly did this catastrophe
take place that the floe-party soon disappeared from view.

Budington now called all hands to muster, and found that fourteen men
remained on board. The _Polaris_ drifted rapidly until toward midnight,
when she ran into some young ice, and her progress was stayed. Next
morning the ship’s position was found to be half-way between Littleton
Island and Cairn Point. No trace of the missing party could be seen.
Later in the day the _Polaris_ reached the coast, and was secured with
heavy hawsers to large grounded hummocks.

On the 19th October two Esquimaux appeared at the ship, and on this date
it was decided to build a house on shore. More Esquimaux arrived on the
21st, and they gave great assistance in sledging articles to the shore.
The house was soon erected, and was used by the party throughout the
winter. Large numbers of Esquimaux made frequent visits, and were very
friendly with the party during the whole time of their stay.

Towards the end of February 1873 it was decided to begin the
construction of two boats in which the party intended to make a retreat
to the Danish settlements.

On the 30th May almost all the land-ice broke away, and with it the
_Polaris_ went adrift. She was carried about 200 yards towards the
south, when she again grounded. At high tide her upper deck was 2 feet
under water.

On the 3rd June 1873 the party set out for the south in their two boats.
On the 23rd of this month, in Melville Bay, not far from Cape York, they
were gladdened by the sight of a whaler. It turned out to be the
_Ravenscraig_ of Kirkcaldy, Scotland, owned by Ninian Lockhart, and
commanded by Captain William Allen. The _Polaris_ party were
enthusiastically received, and were treated with the greatest kindness.
They were ultimately taken to Dundee.

We must now return to the party on the floe. It consisted of ten
Americans and nine Esquimaux. The Americans were Tyson, Meyer, Herron,
Jackson, Kruger, Jamka, Nindemann, Aunting, Lindqvist, and Johnson. They
had two boats, two kayaks, a canvas boat, and some navigation
instruments, besides a moderate quantity of provisions.

Next day, after their separation from the _Polaris_, the floe on which
they were was found to be near Littleton Island. The party took to their
boats, intending to make for the land and to look for the _Polaris_, but
a breeze sprang up and obliged them to haul the boats on the ice. Soon
after this, the _Polaris_ was seen rounding a point 8 or 10 miles away.
Signals were made, but were not noticed by those on the vessel. After
this, the floe drifted away from land towards the west coast, then
across to the neighbourhood of Northumberland Island, and finally
southwards to the east of the Carey Islands.

The Esquimaux during this time were successful in capturing a number of
seals. The provisions were served out by weight, 11 oz. being a day’s
allowance.

During October three snow-houses were built. By November the temperature
became very low, and the effects of exposure and want of food began to
tell on the party. Some of the men trembled when they tried to walk, and
the Esquimaux children often cried with hunger, although all was given
them that could possibly be spared. The services of Joe and Hans were
invaluable: without them, the chances of life would have been very much
diminished. So keen had the appetites of the party become that the
seal-meat was eaten uncooked, with the skin and hair on.

On the 7th December the latitude of 74° 4′ was reached. During this
month the allowance of food was 16 oz. Christmas was celebrated by an
extra meal. At breakfast, an additional ounce of bread made the soup a
little thicker than usual. New Year’s Day did not pass so well. One of
the party described the dinner as “mouldy bread and short allowance.”
Captain Tyson stated that he had dined “on about 2 feet of frozen
entrails and a little blubber.”

On the 6th January 1873 the latitude was approximately 72° 7′. On the
15th of this month the temperature went down to 40° below zero. On the
19th, the sun reappeared after an absence of eighty-three days.

On the 21st February the rations were reduced to 7 oz., so that they
might last till April. At the beginning of March the temperature was
over 30° below zero, and food was scarce. On the 2nd of the month Joe
was fortunate in shooting a large seal, an “ookgook,” and it can be
imagined with what delight the starving party received it. They feasted
on it till most of them became ill. Soon after this seal was captured a
storm came on, and it was feared that the floe would break up: the noise
of the ice was like that of artillery. All the party remained dressed
and ready in case of sudden disaster. After the gale began to moderate,
it was found that the ice all around had been broken up, and that the
piece on which they were was now only about 175 yards in size.

On the 12th March the latitude was found to be 64° 32′. On the 27th of
this month a bear was shot. This was very much appreciated: the flesh
was compared to pork. On the last day of March the latitude was about
the same as Cape Farewell—the most southern point of Greenland.

On the 1st April it was found necessary to abandon the floe and take to
the boat. When all the party entered, the boat was found to be
overloaded, and 100 lb. of meat and nearly all the clothing had to be
thrown overboard. During the next few days the party were kept
continually launching and then hauling up the boat on the ice. On the
7th April the ice split across the tent; the party managed to save
themselves, but lost their breakfast. Next day the ice split between the
tent and the boat, and it was only with great difficulty that the latter
was secured.

During the next eight days they were imprisoned on the ice, and the
amount of food ran very low. On the 18th April a seal was shot by Joe
and was eaten raw. Next day a sea struck the floe on which they were
camped and washed away the tent, skins, and most of the bed-clothing. It
was with the utmost difficulty that the men prevented the boat from
being lost. They held on to the boat from 9 p.m. till 7 next morning.
During this time many of them were frequently struck by blocks of ice
and severely bruised. On the 22nd April they were saved from starvation
by the capture of a bear.

At 4.30 p.m. on the 28th April a steamer hove in sight, but failed to
see them. Next day another steamer was seen, but after the party
believed they were observed, it changed its course and disappeared. On
the 30th April, on some fog clearing away, they were overjoyed to see a
steamer close at hand. Shots and shouting soon attracted attention, and
in a few minutes it was alongside. The vessel was the sealer _Tigress_,
Captain Bartlett of Newfoundland. The party were picked up in latitude
53° 35′, off Grady Harbour, Labrador.

The return to civilised life and its food and comforts was attended with
swollen legs and feet, diarrhœa, and severe headache. The _Tigress_
landed the party at St. John’s on 12th May.

The voyage of the _Polaris_ extended considerably our knowledge of the
Smith Sound route towards the Pole. It also did much to explode the
theory of an open Polar Sea. The _Polaris_ was carried to a more
northern point than a vessel had ever before reached, and it prepared
the way for the British Expedition of 1875.

One might naturally suppose that the Arctic regions would offer no
further attractions to those who suffered the terrible experience on the
drifting ice, but it will be afterwards seen that at least one of the
party played a noble rôle in another American Expedition which met with
disaster.




[Illustration: KAISER FRANZ JOSEF LAND AS KNOWN IN 1874.]




                               CHAPTER VI
               THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN EXPEDITION (1872−74)


The failure of the second German Arctic Expedition to reach a high
latitude on the east coast of Greenland directed attention to the seas
of Novaya Zemlya. In order, however, that large sums of money might not
be spent on a plan which might be unfeasible, it was decided to dispatch
a pioneer expedition under the joint command of Lieutenant Weyprecht and
Julius Payer. The latter had greatly distinguished himself in the German
Expedition.

In order to diminish expenses, a small sailing ship, the _Isbjorn_, of
55 tons, was chartered at Tromsoe. She was new and strong, and this was
her first voyage. Her bows were protected with sheet iron, 2 feet above,
and 2 feet under water. The crew consisted of eight Norwegians.

Tromsoe was left on the 20th June 1871. They were detained two days at
Sandoe by contrary winds, and on the 28th the first ice was met in 73°
40′ south-east of Bear Island. Here they passed through 40 miles of
loose drift-ice, and then met the pack in 74° 30′. Calms set in, and the
_Isbjorn_ was beset for ten days. On the 10th July it escaped and sailed
eastward. They reached longitude 40° E., and then were forced to return
westward. Hope Island was reached, and the course was then directed
north, but ice was met with in 76° 30′. Three attempts were made to
reach Stor-Fiord from the western side of Cape Lookout, but each time
the _Isbjorn_ was driven back by the current.

Towards the middle of August the ice to the east of Hope Island had
cleared away, and on the 22nd August 76° 45′ was reached, but contrary
winds prevented a higher latitude being attained. The course was again
set eastwards along the margin of the ice, and on the 31st of August the
latitude was 78° 30′.

They had now arrived at the conclusion that the Novaya Zemlya Sea was
not filled with impenetrable ice, as was generally supposed, but that it
was probably open every year up to 78°, and that the most favourable
time for navigation was towards the end of August.

The _Isbjorn_ returned to Tromsoe on 4th October.

It was now considered desirable that a well-equipped expedition should
be dispatched to the Novaya Zemlya seas, either to penetrate towards the
north, or to attempt the North-East Passage—hence the Austro-Hungarian
Expedition.

The _Tegetthoff_, a vessel of 220 tons burden, was fitted out for two
and a half years. The engine was of 100 horse-power, and the ship
carried 130 tons of coal. The officers and crew numbered twenty-four.
Some spoke German, some Italian, and others either Slavonic or
Hungarian. The command was twofold: Weyprecht had charge of the ship,
and Payer had command of the sledge-expeditions.

The _Tegetthoff_ left Bremerhaven on the 13th of June 1872, and Tromsoe
was reached on the 3rd of July. Here they remained a week while the ship
was overhauled and repaired and the supply of coal replenished. Captain
Olaf Carlsen joined the ship as ice-master and harpooner. He had
deservedly gained fame through having circumnavigated Spitzbergen and
Novaya Zemlya. Tromsoe was left on 13th July.

Ice was first seen on 25th July in latitude 74°. On the 29th they were
able to continue their course only under steam, and the vessel
encountered heavy shocks in charging the ice. Next day they were beset,
and did not escape from the ice until 3rd August, when they broke
through into the open coast-water of Novaya Zemlya. A belt of ice 105
miles broad lay behind them, and they steered due north in view of the
mountainous coasts.

Great was their astonishment and joy when on 12th August they met the
_Isbjorn_ and found on board Count Wilczek, who had given a large
donation towards the expense of the expedition, and who was about to
establish a dépôt of provisions at Cape Nassau. The two ships now
proceeded north in company to the Barentz Isles, where a dépôt of
provisions was established. Here they parted from the _Isbjorn_, and
steamed towards the north on the 20th August. Within a few hours the
_Tegetthoff_ became beset, and was destined never to be again released.
The position was now 76° 22′ N. latitude, 63° 3′ E. longitude. Well
might Payer write: “Happy is it for men, that inextinguishable hope
enables them to endure all the vicissitudes of fate, which are to test
their powers of endurance, and that they can never see, as at a glance,
the long series of disappointments in store for them!”

From day to day they hoped they would be able to escape from the ice;
then they hoped from week to week, then from season to season, and
lastly in the chances of new years!

The ship drifted slowly towards the north, and had passed the 77° on 2nd
October. On the 6th October the first bear was killed and was divided
among the dogs. They had on board eight dogs, six of which had been
brought from Vienna, and the other two from Lapland.

On the 12th October only a line of heights some 30 miles away to the
south could be seen, and soon afterwards every trace of land
disappeared. As winter approached, the ice pressures began, and during
the next few months the crew were kept in a state of terror.
Preparations were made to abandon the ship if necessary, and for long
periods the crew did not undress. Nightly they rushed on deck, more than
once believing that at last the ship was doomed. Floes were crushed and
piled around the ship high above the level of the deck, and noise and
confusion reigned supreme. They lived as if they constantly expected an
earthquake. This condition of affairs continued in greater or lesser
measure for 130 days. Some of the crew must have been very
superstitious, as indicated by the fact that the antlers of a reindeer
which were on board were suspected of having something to do with the
ice pressure, and were thrown overboard. This not having the desired
effect, the skull of a bear was treated likewise. It may be mentioned
here that during this expedition no fewer than sixty-seven polar bears
were killed.

The _Tegetthoff_ still slowly drifted to the north, and on the 19th
February 1873 had reached latitude 78° 15′. Payer formed the opinion
that wind was the main cause of the drifting, and that sea-currents were
only of secondary importance. De Long and Nansen in later years were to
prove that Payer’s opinion was true.

Life on board the _Tegetthoff_ was extremely monotonous, especially
during the darkness of winter. With the arrival of summer in 1873, they
had great hope of deliverance from the ice, but this hope was not
realised.

The second summer was drawing to a close when the most remarkable event
of the voyage occurred. It was on the 30th August, in latitude 79° 43′
and longitude 59° 33′ E., that the startling discovery was made that
land could be seen in the distance. This discovery, totally unexpected,
infused new life into the whole expedition. The new land received its
name from that of the Austrian Emperor, and was christened Kaiser
Franz-Josef’s Land. By the end of September the _Tegetthoff_ had drifted
to 79° 58′, which was the highest latitude it attained. An attempt was
now made to reach the land, but a fog compelled the party to return to
the ship.

At the beginning of November the ship had drifted to a point not far
from land, and a second attempt to reach it proved successful. The sun,
however, had now disappeared, and the twilight did not enable them to
make any extended exploration. There was also a danger of the ship
drifting away.

The second winter passed much more pleasantly than the first. The ice
pressures were not very severe, and the crew had become much more
accustomed to them. The exploration of the new land which was to take
place in the spring of 1874 gave food for much speculation, and tended
to relieve the monotony.

In February 1874, Payer, as commander of the expedition on shore, held a
council to whom he explained his plan for the projected sledge-journeys.
As there was a possibility of the ship drifting away from the land, it
was decided that provisions for three months should be deposited on
land, and that in the event of the sledge-party being cut off from the
ship they should attempt to reach Europe. The sledge-expeditions were to
begin in March and be continued for six or seven weeks. It was also
agreed that after the termination of the sledge-expeditions the
_Tegetthoff_ should be abandoned, and that the whole expedition should
attempt to reach Europe in their boats.

The greatest activity now reigned in the ship, in order to be prepared
for the sledge-journey. Some of the crew had suffered from scurvy, but
with the exception of the engineer, who was suffering from consumption,
there was no dangerous case of sickness.

The sledges used had runners 6, 8, and 11 feet long, and 1½, 2, and 2¾
inches broad, respectively, and were gently curved at each end. The
height of the sledges above the snow was about 1 foot, and they were
constructed of the best ash. They carried loads amounting to 7, 12, and
20 cwt. The two runners were fastened together by two strong front
boards, and by four cross-pieces of wood firmly lashed to the upright
standards of the sledge, which were themselves dovetailed into the
runners.

As regards the cooking apparatus, Payer points out that it should be
made of sheet iron, each of its parts of one piece, and there should be
no soldering, in order to diminish the risk of breakage and the setting
fire to the tent by the escape of the spirit in a state of combustion.

The covering for the feet consisted of sail-cloth boots, lined with
flannel, and soled with stout felt. They were made wide so that they
could be put easily over three pairs of strong woollen stockings.

The first sledge-party left the ship on 11th March 1874. It was equipped
for one week, and its object was to reconnoitre a route for an extended
journey towards the north. Payer took six men and three dogs. In about
two hours after leaving the ship they had passed the south-west cape of
Wilczek Island, on which they had previously landed. During this journey
Payer began the determination of the localities of Franz-Josef Land, by
a triangulation of elevated points, to which the measurement of a base
was afterwards to be added. The ascent of high mountains therefore
formed part of the programme.

Hall Island at Cape Tegetthoff was reached on the 12th March. Part of
the journey had to be made against driving snow with a temperature about
26° F. below zero. In the afternoon of the 12th, Payer with two Tyrolese
ascended the plateau of Cape Tegetthoff. Those who remained behind spent
their time in rubbing their feet with snow. The summit was reached in
two hours, and the height was ascertained to be 2600 feet. The weather
conditions were not favourable, and the view in consequence was limited.
Next morning they entered Nordenskjöld Fiord, and at noon reached the
high, precipitous termination of Sonklar Glacier. In the afternoon,
Payer with the Tyrolese ascended Cape Littrow, 2500 feet in height, and
early on the morning of the 14th they ascended to the summit of the
precipitous face of the Sonklar Glacier. Here the temperature went down
to the lowest ever experienced by Payer, about 59° F. below zero. They
had taken some rum with them, and as each took his share, he knelt down
and allowed another to shake it into his mouth, without bringing the
metal cup in contact with the lips. The rum seemed to have lost all its
strength and fluidity. It tasted like milk, and its consistence was that
of oil. The bread was frozen so hard that they feared to break their
teeth in biting it, and it brought blood as they ate it. They attempted
to smoke cigars, but the icicles on their beards always put them out.
The instruments used in surveying seemed to burn when they were touched.
Payer found that this extreme cold was depressing in its influence, and
enfeebled the powers of the will. At first, cold stimulates to action,
but when extreme, this vigour is quickly followed by torpidity; exertion
is soon followed by the desire to rest. Persons exposed to these
extremely low temperatures feel as if they were intoxicated: from the
stiffness and trembling of their jaws they speak with great effort. When
dragging a sledge, their breath streams forth like smoke, which is soon
transformed into a mass of needles of ice, almost hiding their mouths
from view. Ice becomes so hard that it emits a ringing sound; wood is as
difficult to cut as bone; butter becomes like stone; meat must be split,
and mercury may be fired as a bullet from a gun. Snow of a temperature
of 30° below zero feels in the mouth like hot iron, and does not quench
but increases thirst by its inflammatory action on the mucous membrane.

After descending from the Sonklar Glacier, they decided to return to the
ship, which was reached on the 15th March. Two of the party had
frost-bitten feet, one had his face frost-bitten, and a fourth had both
his hands severely affected. Next day, Krisch, the engineer, died from
consumption. He was buried on Wilczek Island.

The second sledge-journey began on the 26th March. Payer again took six
men and three dogs. The provisions consisted of boiled beef, bread,
pemmican, bacon, extract of meat, condensed milk, coffee, chocolate,
rice, grits, salt, pepper, peas-sausage, and sugar. The total weight
carried, including two sledges, amounted to about 14 cwt.

They had not gone more than 1000 yards from the ship when driving snow
compelled them to pass twenty-four hours in the tent. A start was again
made on the 27th March, but when near Wilczek Island they had to halt
for an hour in order to rub the frost-bitten hands of one of the men. On
the 29th, Payer ascended the rocky heights of Koldewey Island. On the
shore of this island the winter retreat of a family of bears was
discovered. It was a cavity hollowed out in a mass of snow lying under a
rocky wall. As they proceeded north they went round Schönau Island,
named after Payer’s birthplace. Here a dépôt of provisions was placed in
a cleft of the rocks and covered with 4 feet of snow.

When nearing Cape Frankfurt, which is a promontory of Hall Island, they
could not make out whether the opening between this and the Wullersdorf
Mountains would be the proper route to the north. In order to settle
this question, Payer and Haller left the sledge and made a forced march
to Cape Frankfurt, which they ascended, and from a height of 2000 feet
were able to ascertain the route. From here the coasts of Wilczek Land
appeared to run in a northerly direction, and then to trend gradually to
the north-east. A broad inlet, to which the name “Austria Sound” was
given, was seen to run far towards the north. A great many icebergs were
met here, indicating the presence of large glaciers. On the day that
they entered this sound, a bear was killed, from which they took 50 lb.
of flesh for their own use, and gave the rest of the carcass to the
dogs. At the same time they deposited 50 lb. of boiled beef on an
iceberg close by.

On the 4th April they passed Cape Tyrol in driving snow, and on this day
one of the dogs was lost. A gull flew past and the dog burst away from
the sledge, and in hot pursuit of the bird disappeared from sight, and
was never seen again. On the 5th April the 81st degree was reached.
Before setting out on this journey, Payer guaranteed to give the men
1000 florins if the 81st degree was reached, and 2500 florins if they
reached the 82nd degree. Two bears were killed on this day, and their
flesh formed the principal food. It was not, however, much appreciated.
Payer describes it as tolerable food for sea-gulls, but hardly fit even
for devils on the fast-days of the infernal regions.

When approaching Becker Island the atmospheric conditions were such that
it could not be seen until it was only about 100 yards away. Instead of
rounding this island, it was decided to cross it. When the highest point
was reached, Austria Sound was seen to still stretch towards the north,
but the sea presented the appearance of a chaos of ice-hills and
icebergs.

On the 7th April, in latitude 81° 23′, could be seen the faint outlines
of mountains in Crown-Prince Rudolf’s Land. Here Payer writes: “At this
latitude it seemed as if Wilczek Land suddenly terminated, but when the
sun scattered the driving mist we saw the glittering ranges of its
enormous glaciers—the Dove Glaciers—shining down on us. Towards the
north-east we could trace land trending to a cape lying in the grey
distance—Cape Buda-Pesth, as it was afterwards called.” This passage
was destined to form a great puzzle to Nansen in later years. It is
evident, however, that the atmospheric conditions were not favourable
for accurate observations, and on his map Payer shows that this part of
the coast-line was considered doubtful.

As it appeared to Payer that Crown-Prince Rudolf’s Land and Karl
Alexander’s Land formed a continuous whole, and therefore barred the way
to the north, he diverged into Rawlinson Sound. The track lay between
countless hummocks, some of which Payer estimated to be 40 feet high.
The advance now became one continual zigzag. On the 9th April an iceberg
was ascended from which it was seen that the hummocks in Rawlinson Sound
appeared to stretch on without end. The course was therefore altered to
a north-westerly direction in order to come under Crown-Prince Rudolf’s
Land, but the character of the ice still remained unchanged, and Payer
was compelled to make for Hohenlohe Island in the west, where he decided
to divide the expedition into two parties.

Payer determined that he, with Orel, Zaninovich, and Klotz, should push
on with the dog-sledge, and that the other three men should remain
behind at Cape Schrötter. Payer explained the plan he meant to follow,
and stated that he should be absent from five to eight days, but that if
he should not return within fifteen days they were to march back to the
ship with the sledge. A pocket-compass, a watch, an aneroid barometer,
and a thermometer were left with the remaining party. The tent was
divided in two, each party receiving a half. The advance party took
provisions for eight days, and the two remaining dogs had to drag the
sledge with a weight of about 4 cwt.

As they approached the promontory on the south of Crown-Prince Rudolf’s
Land, numerous icebergs were met, which according to Payer were from 100
to 200 feet high. The Middendorf Glacier was now reached, and an attempt
was made to cross it. Towards its lower part many crevasses were bridged
over with snow. Farther on, the glacier appeared smooth and free from
crevasses, and it was anticipated that it could be crossed without
difficulty. Here, Klotz confessed to Payer that one of his feet was
swollen and ulcerated. Payer decided at once that it would be necessary
to send Klotz back to the other party at Hohenlohe Island. Laden with a
sack and carrying a revolver, he set off, and soon disappeared.

Meanwhile Payer and the other two men had again packed the sledge and
harnessed the dogs, and were setting out, when, without the slightest
warning, the snow gave way beneath the sledge, and Zaninovich, the dogs,
and the sledge disappeared in a crevasse. Payer, who was attached to the
rope, was dragged backwards to the edge of the crevasse, and expected to
be precipitated into it, but at this moment the sledge stuck fast
between the sides of the crevasse. Orel now advanced to the edge and
stated that he could see Zaninovich lying on a ledge of snow in the
crevasse, with precipices all round him, and the dogs attached to the
traces of the sledge. Payer, who was lying on his stomach near the edge
of the crevasse, had still one of the traces fastened round his waist.
This he decided to cut, although Zaninovich cried up that he was afraid
that the sledge would then fall on him. When the trace was cut, the
sledge made a short run and then stuck fast again. Payer now jumped the
crevasse and shouted to Zaninovich that he would require to run back to
Hohenlohe Island to fetch men and ropes for his rescue; that if he could
contrive for four hours to keep himself from freezing, all would yet be
well. Payer at once started to run down the glacier back to Cape
Schrötter, 6 miles off. Bathed in perspiration, he threw off his
bird-skin garments, his boots, and his shawl, and ran in his stockings
through the deep snow. On the way he passed Klotz, who at first feared
that Payer had lost his senses. On reaching Cape Schrötter a rope was
detached from the large sledge, and the whole party, with the exception
of Klotz, set off for the glacier. Reaching the glacier, they tied
themselves together, Payer leading. On arrival at the crevasse, Payer
shouted, but at first could hear no reply. At last he heard the whining
of a dog, and then an unintelligible answer from Zaninovich. Haller, who
was immediately let down by a rope, found Zaninovich still living, but
almost frozen, on a ledge of snow 40 feet down the crevasse. He fastened
himself and Zaninovich to the rope, and they were drawn up after great
exertion. Haller again descended, and fastened the dogs to the rope.
They had managed to free themselves from their traces and had sprung to
a ledge near where Zaninovich had lain. After they were drawn up, they
gave expression to their joy, first by rolling themselves vigorously in
the snow, and then by licking the hands of the party. Haller was next
raised to the level of the sledge, so that he might cut the ropes which
fastened the loading. The articles were brought up one by one. Nothing
of any importance had been lost. The party now descended the glacier,
and the three men from Cape Schrötter returned there, while Payer and
his companions camped at Cape Habermann.

A route along the west coast of Crown-Prince Rudolf’s Land was now
followed. When Cape Brorok was reached, the latitude was found to be 81°
45′. Payer here writes: “To the north-west we saw at first nothing but
ice up to the horizon; even with the telescope of the theodolite I could
not decide for the existence of land, which Orel’s sharp eye discovered
in the far distance.” Payer also remarks that, in the Arctic regions, it
often happens that banks of fog on the horizon assume the character of
distant ranges, for the small height to which these banks rise in the
cold air causes them to be very sharply defined. It is also very common,
he says, to make the same mistake in the case of mists arising from the
waste water of enormous glaciers.

When Cape Auk was reached, a dark water-sky appeared in the north, and
great numbers of birds were seen. Seals lay on the ice, and traces of
bears and foxes were numerous. Had Payer been inclined to believe, like
Hayes, in the existence of an open Polar Sea, these signs of a richer
animal-life would have gone far to support the belief. Payer, however,
called this belief an “antiquated hypothesis.”

The ice was now so thin that they thought it expedient to tie themselves
together with a long rope. Ascending an iceberg in Teplitz Bay, the open
sea was seen stretching far to the west; and at Cape Säulen the open
water reached the coast. Here Payer ascended a height to reconnoitre the
track for next day. Land was no longer visible towards the north. The
12th April was the last day of advance in a northerly direction. The
march lay over snowy slopes to the summits of the coast-range, from 1000
to 3000 feet high. At noon the latitude was taken at Cape Germania, and
found to be 81° 57′. They reached Cape Fligely in five hours, and here
decided to turn back. Payer estimated the latitude of this point to be
82° 5′. Rudolf’s Land still stretched in a north-easterly direction
towards a cape named after Sherard Osborne. From Cape Fligely it could
be seen that the open water was simply a “Polynia” surrounded by old
ice. Blue mountain-ranges were believed to be visible in the distant
north, and were named “King Oscar Land” and “Petermann Land.”

After enclosing a brief account of the journey in a bottle and
depositing it in a cleft of rock, the return journey was begun. Cape
Schrötter was reached on the evening of the 13th April. It was well for
those left there that nothing serious happened to Payer’s party, for
although all the means of ascertaining their position had been given to
them, when asked what direction they would have taken to return to the
ship, they pointed north-east up Rawlinson Sound!

Cape Schrötter was left on the 14th April, and the party made for the
Coburg Islands, in very bad weather. Klotz’s foot had become much worse,
and all those who had been left behind were more or less snow-blind. It
struck Payer as peculiar that the dogs did not suffer from this
affection, close as they were to the glare of the snow and without any
protection against it. Coburg Islands were reached in the evening. Next
day, after a severe march, they got clear of the region of ice-hummocks,
and were able to use their sledge-sail. On the return journey Payer
ascended Cape Hellwald, 2200 feet, and Cape Tyrol, 3000 feet, above
sea-level.

On the 19th April, south of Cape Tyrol, they came on open water, and had
to take to the coast of Wilczek Land. The iceberg on which one of the
dépôts had been placed was afloat, and could not be reached. Their
provisions were now running short, and they were still 55 miles from the
ship. During the next two days they struggled on in terrible weather.
Their last dépôt, fortunately, was discovered, and also the remains of a
bear killed on the way north. The open water was now found to have
retreated to the west, and this enabled them to reach Cape Frankfurt, on
Hall Island. From here the ice could be seen stretching away to the
south. When Cape Orgel was reached, it was with anxious feelings that
Payer began its ascent. It was from here he would be able to ascertain
whether the _Tegetthoff_ had been drifted away from its former position.
He was overjoyed to find the ship about 3 miles off. The whole party
reached it on 23rd April.

The weather towards the end of April was good, and favoured the carrying
out of the third and last sledge-expedition. Payer was anxious to
ascertain, if possible, how far Franz-Josef Land extended towards
Spitzbergen. On the 29th April he again left the ship, with Haller,
Lieutenant Brosch, and the two dogs. Provisions for a week were carried.
Cape Brünn, on McClintock Island, was to be their objective. This was
ascended on the 2nd May, and was found to be 2500 feet high, but the
boundaries of the land towards Spitzbergen could not be determined. On
the night of the 2nd May they began a forced march of twenty-two hours
back to the ship. The total distance of the sledge-journeys was
estimated to be about 450 miles.

Preparations were now made to abandon the _Tegetthoff_, and to make an
attempt to reach Europe. Three boats were selected for the return: two
of these were Norwegian whale-boats, 20 feet long. Each of the boats was
placed on a sledge, and the weight to be dragged, including everything,
amounted to the formidable total of 90 cwt.

The plan was to reach the dépôt of provisions on the Barentz Islands,
which lay almost directly south. After replenishing stores there, they
proposed to follow the coast of Novaya Zemlya with the hope of reaching
one of those ships which go there for the salmon fishery. They also had
the hope that they might come across a Norwegian seal-hunter farther
north.

The _Tegetthoff_ was left on 20th May 1874. The first day’s advance
amounted to 1 mile. They had to pass three times heavily laden, and
twice empty, over every bit of the road. The snow was deep, and more
than half of the expedition was required to move a boat. During the
first week Payer and two men returned daily to the ship with the
dog-sledge in order to replenish the store the party had consumed. A
bear was shot on the 23rd, another on the 26th, and a third on the 31st
May. At the end of May, when only 5 miles from the ship, they approached
a water-space, but found the margins so surrounded with broad barriers
of broken ice that the boats could not be launched. They therefore
decided to camp, and wait for more favourable conditions. It was not
until the 17th June that the ice opened near to them, and the boats were
launched on the 18th. They had not proceeded more than 3 miles when they
were stopped by ice, and the boats had to be drawn on to it. Next
morning there was no water to be seen. On the 20th they crossed a
“lead,” and then were detained in the same position two days. During the
rest of June they had continually to cross “leads” and water-holes. At
noon on the 1st July they had only reached 79° 38′. On the 4th the
latitude was found to be 79° 43′, so that they had drifted north. From
the 9th to the 15th July they rested and waited for the ice to open. On
the 20th July the latitude was 79° 11′, so that during two calendar
months they had advanced only 47 geographical miles. The water-spaces
now became larger, and more satisfactory progress was made.

On the 7th August they believed they had reached the open sea, as they
observed the ice alternately rising and falling. Next day they were
again shut in the ice, and there was now no appearance of open water.
From the 10th to the 13th they waited on the ice opening, and employed
part of the time in caulking their boats. On the 13th the latitude was
77° 58′, so that they were now exactly 2 degrees south of the
starting-point. On the 15th August the open water was at last reached,
in 77° 40′.

The sledges were now left behind, but although the boats were much
crowded, the two remaining dogs were at first taken on board. Later,
however, it was found that they would put the crew to great
inconvenience, and with reluctance they had to be killed. The course was
now shaped towards the Barentz Islands. On the 16th, the snowy summits
near Cape Nassau were sighted. Next day a fog came on, and before it
cleared they found they were far beyond the Barentz Islands. Instead of
returning to the dépôt, they preferred to take the risk and push on.

On the 18th August they first landed on Novaya Zemlya, where they found
coltsfoot (_Tussilago farfara_), the leaves of which were dried and used
as tobacco. They were greatly disappointed in not finding a vessel in
Matoschkin Bay. On the 23rd August, only ten days’ provisions remained.
In the evening on the 24th they passed Cape Britwin, and suddenly they
beheld a small boat with two men in it. There was a great cry of joy
from the Austrian boats, and as the two men pulled towards them, and
before either party could explain, a corner of rock was turned, and now
in full view lay two ships. These were two Russian vessels from
Archangel, and were engaged in the salmon fishery. The Austrians were
received by the Russians with the greatest friendliness. It was the
intention of the latter to remain where they were for fourteen days
longer, and to spend about the same number in fishing and hunting at the
southern extremity of Novaya Zemlya. This programme did not suit the
Austrians. It was therefore arranged that one of the vessels should take
the expedition to Vardo, in Norway, without delay, and that in return
for this service the Russians should receive three of the Austrian
boats, two rifles, and be guaranteed a sum of 1200 silver roubles.

The _Nikolai_ sailed on the 26th August, and reached Vardo on 3rd
September. Two days later the mail steamer from Vardo to Hamburg took
the expedition on board, and stopping at Tromsoe, put ashore Captain
Carlsen.

                 *        *        *        *        *

The discovery of Franz-Josef Land was an important one, and stimulated
further Arctic exploration. It also served as a new point from which to
attack the Pole.




                              CHAPTER VII
                   THE BRITISH EXPEDITION OF 1875−76


The Government of Queen Victoria having determined that an expedition of
Arctic exploration should be undertaken, the ships _Alert_ and
_Discovery_ were specially fitted out for this service, and the command
given to Captain George S. Nares. The ship _Valorous_ was also to
accompany the expedition to Disco with stores and then return. The
primary object was to attain the highest northern latitude, and, if
possible, to reach the North Pole. The expedition was fitted out
regardless of expense. According to the Admiralty instructions, the
second ship was not to be carried northward of the 82nd parallel, so
that the crew of the advance ship might fall back on it in case of
emergency.

The two ships left Portsmouth on 29th May 1875, and arrived at the
island of Disco without special incident. Here the services of Frederick
the Eskimo were obtained, and at Proven, Hans Hendrick was also engaged.
This was the same Hans who had previously accompanied three American
expeditions.

A dépôt of 3600 rations was landed on the most south-eastern of the
Carey Islands, and also a boat. On the 27th July the two ships passed
between Northumberland and Hakluyt Islands.

On the south-west brow of Littleton Island a cairn was erected, in which
was placed a notice containing a short account of the movements and
prospects of the expedition up to that time.

Nares formed the opinion that “Hartstene Bay is the best winter-station
on the North Greenland coast; its shores are washed by a warm current
coming from the southward, whilst the projecting promontories of Cape
Hatherton and Cape Ohlsen deflect the Polar current to the other side of
the Sound. Owing to the narrowing of the channel at the entrance of
Smith Sound the velocity of the tidal currents is greatly augmented, and
even in winter large water-spaces are kept open. The moisture and warmth
imparted to the atmosphere by the uncovered water moderates the climate
in its vicinity to some extent, and consequently we find in the
neighbourhood of Hartstene Bay a land comparatively well vegetated and a
great abundance of animal-life. As Port Foulke can be visited yearly
from the southward in all but very exceptional seasons, it can be
recommended as an important base if further explorations by Smith Sound
are hereafter undertaken.”

On 29th July the two ships crossed Smith Sound, steering direct for Cape
Isabella. The snow-clad coast of Ellesmere Land was very clearly
defined, the black headlands, separated by glacier-filled valleys,
standing out prominently from the white background.

A cairn was erected on the outer spur of Cape Isabella, 700 feet above
the water-line; a cask for letters and a few cases of preserved meat
being hidden away on a lower point, about 300 feet high, magnetic west
of the cairn.

Proceeding northward, shelter had to be taken in a harbour, named after
Payer, beside Brevoort Island. Nares mentions this as a most convenient
waiting-place for vessels attempting to proceed northward by Smith
Sound. A dépôt of 240 rations was placed on the peninsula that forms the
southern protection of the harbour. A cairn was built on the summit of
Brevoort Island, in which a record paper was subsequently placed. These
provisions were not afterwards touched.

The second large dépôt of 3000 rations, for use in the event of a
compulsory retreat, was landed at a small protected bay 2 miles north of
Cape Hawks.

Cape Frazer, where the Polar and Baffin’s Bay tides meet, was passed on
the 19th of August. During the previous three weeks they had advanced 90
miles, or about 4¼ miles a day.

At Cape Collinson a dépôt of 240 rations was landed about 100 yards
inshore and 30 feet above the water-line. These provisions were not
afterwards disturbed by the expedition.

On reaching Kennedy Channel it was decided to make for open water, which
was seen in the middle of the strait. This was reached after some
difficulty, and the ships were soon advancing up the channel, which was
comparatively free of ice, and was therefore in much the same condition
as when seen by Morton. They steered for Cape Morton, at the north-east
extremity of Kennedy Channel. Here a dépôt of 240 rations was landed for
the use of travelling parties which were to be afterwards dispatched for
the purpose of exploring Petermann Fiord.

Hall Basin being filled with ice, the two ships crossed to the western
coast, and entered Lady Franklin Sound, where the _Discovery_ was left
in a bay named “Discovery Bay.” This point was reached on the 25th of
August.

The _Alert_ had to wait until the 28th before an opportunity offered to
proceed northwards. A dépôt of 1000 rations was placed on a hillside 30
feet above the sea, on the northern shore of Lincoln Bay. A cairn, which
could be seen from the ice a mile from land, was built a few yards
inshore of where these provisions were deposited. They were not
afterwards disturbed.

Floeberg Beach was reached on the 1st of September, and here the _Alert_
was fated to remain eleven months. The ice was occasionally driven
offshore by gales, but after September 16th the ice never left the shore
to the westward of the _Alert_, although to the eastward a large space
of clear water remained between the _Alert_ and Robeson Channel whenever
the wind prevailed from the westward.

On the 18th of September the thermometer rose to 36° F.; on the 19th it
had fallen to 15° F. The first star was seen on the night of the 20th
September.

With the object of exploring the land about Cape Joseph Henry,
Lieutenant Aldrich, with Frederick and two seamen, Ayles and Simmons,
started on the 22nd, with fourteen dogs dragging two sledges laden with
fourteen days provisions. The dogs were allowanced at the rate of 2 lb.
of preserved meat daily.

On the 26th a large party started with the object of establishing a
dépôt of provisions as far in advance to the north-west as possible.
This party consisted of two seven-man sledges and one eleven-man sledge;
they were provisioned for twenty days. The sledges were weighted to 200
lb. a man. The eleven-man sledge proved too heavy for the young ice, and
another seven-man sledge had to be taken instead. The temperature during
the first night fell to 1 degree below zero.

On the 5th of October, Lieutenant Aldrich returned with eleven dogs
harnessed to one sledge on which his light gear was secured. Everything
else had been left a few miles behind to enable him to reach the ship
that night. The dogs, sinking as they frequently did in the soft snow up
to their muzzles, had proved to be nearly useless, and but for the help
of the men the sledge would have had to be abandoned. Aldrich had
succeeded in reaching Cape Joseph Henry, and had spent three days in
exploring the neighbourhood. The floebergs and rugged ice piled directly
against the precipitous face of the cliffs, with an extremely rough pack
in constant motion, effectually prevented sledges being dragged round
the cape; but fortunately there was a fair prospect of finding a level
road overland to the sea on the other side of the cape in the spring. On
the 27th September, Aldrich had succeeded in reaching latitude 82° 48′
N., a higher latitude than had ever before been attained, Parry’s 82°
45′ reached in 1827 having now been beaten.

As regards the use of dogs, Aldrich on this journey formed the opinion
that when the snow becomes more than a foot deep, they are not of much
value.

The large sledge-party which succeeded in establishing a dépôt of
provisions at Cape Joseph Henry returned on September 14th. Out of the
party of twenty-one men and three officers, seven men and one officer
returned to the ship badly frost-bitten, three of them so severely as to
render amputation necessary, the patients being confined to their beds
for the greater part of the winter. The frost-bites were attributable
entirely to the wet sludgy state of some of the ice that had to be
crossed. The temperature ranged between 15° above and 22° below zero. On
this journey attention was drawn to the fact that the barrels of the
breech-loading fowling-pieces became contracted by the cold to such an
extent that the paper cartridges which at a higher temperature fitted
well could not be inserted until the outside paper had been stripped
off.

The sun disappeared on the 11th October, but for some time afterwards
there was twilight during five or six hours of the day. The first sign
of an aurora was seen on the 26th October; on the 27th stars were
visible at noon. On the 8th November, with a perfectly clear sky, the
noon twilight was insufficient to enable one to make out the words in a
_Times_ leading article, when the paper was held up facing the south. On
the 9th November, Nares writes:—

“To-day the moon reappeared above the southern horizon. Her movements
are so important to us that a monthly bulletin is published giving the
precise account of when she will appear and when depart. She is truly
the ‘presiding goddess’ of the long Arctic night; reflecting to us,
during each of her visits, the light of the totally absent sun for ten
successive days and nights as she circles round the heavens without ever
setting. During some period of her stay full moon occurs, and she
displays her greatest beauty. At the time of new moon, when her light
would be of the least value, she is absent in southern latitudes. Thanks
to her we can never realise what existence would be if totally deprived
of light.”

On the 23rd of November mercury became frozen for the first time, at
−45° F. The mean temperature of February was −38° F. The mean for the
3rd and 4th March was −69.6°. On the 3rd March two reliable thermometers
registered below −73° F., or 105° below the freezing-point of fresh
water.

Nothing of special importance occurred during the winter. Christmas was
spent cheerfully; a school was started, and a course of lectures and
entertainments was given every Thursday evening. There was little but
the weather to chronicle.

On the 12th of March, Mr. Egerton and Lieutenant Rawson, accompanied by
Petersen and nine dogs, started for the _Discovery_, the sledge being
weighted to 51 lb. per dog. This party had to return on the 15th owing
to the illness of Petersen. “He was taken ill on the 2nd March with
cramp, and afterwards, being unable to retain any food whatever, nothing
could keep him warm, and he became badly frost-bitten. By depriving
themselves of their own warm clothing and at great personal risk, the
two officers, his only companions, succeeded in restoring circulation.
The following day, Petersen being no better, they wisely determined to
return with him to the ship. But the gale of the 14th rendering it
impossible to travel, and the tent being very cold, they burrowed out a
hole in a snow-bank, and with the aid of a spirit-lamp raised the
temperature inside to 7°. With a noble disregard of themselves, they
succeeded in retaining some slight heat in the man’s body by alternately
lying one at a time alongside of him while the other was recovering his
warmth by exercise. On the morning of the 15th, the patient being
slightly better, and the weather permitting, they started to return to
the ship with the sledge lightened to the utmost.

“During the journey of 16 miles over a very rough ground, although
frequently very seriously frost-bitten themselves, they succeeded in
keeping life in the invalid until they arrived on board. He was badly
frost-bitten in the face and feet.

“Notwithstanding the professional ability and incessant care of Dr.
Colan, Petersen never recovered from the severe shock which he had
received, and eventually expired from exhaustion three months
afterwards.”

On the 20th March, Mr. Egerton, with Lieutenant Rawson, accompanied by
John Simmons and Michael Regan, one of the crew of the _Discovery_,
started with a sledge drawn by seven dogs for Discovery Bay, the dogs
dragging 78 lb. each.

They returned on the 4th April. They arrived at Discovery Bay on the
25th of March, and left again on the 30th. The temperature was very low
during this journey, and great difficulties as regards snow and ice had
to be overcome.

The great sledge-party to the west and north left the ship on the 3rd of
April. It consisted of fifty-three officers and men. Each man in the
northern division dragged 230 lb., and those of the western division 242
lb.

“The programme was as follows: Lieutenant Aldrich, assisted by a
sledge-crew under the command of Lieutenant Giffard, was to explore the
shores of Grant Land towards the north and west, along the coast-line he
had discovered the previous autumn. Commander Markham, seconded by
Lieutenant Parr, with two boats, and equipped for an absence of seventy
days, was to force his way to the northward over the ice, starting off
from the land near Cape Joseph Henry; three sledge-crews, under the
commands of Dr. Moss and Mr. George White, accompanying them as far as
their provisions would allow.”

On the 20th April, Lieutenants Beaumont and Rawson, and Dr. Coppinger,
with twenty-one men dragging four sledges weighted to 218 lb. a man,
started for the north coast of Greenland.

On the 25th of May, Captain Nares decided to go to Cape Joseph Henry to
obtain a view of the northern ice from the lofty mountains in the
locality. He arrived there on the 29th, and ascended Mount Julia, the
highest peak near the sea, which rises to an elevation of not less than
2000 feet. The atmosphere being very clear, an extensive view was
obtained. The hills of Greenland, 120 miles distant, were plainly seen
in the neighbourhood of Cape Britannia. He was satisfied that no land
exists to the north within 50 miles of Cape Joseph Henry, and no high
land within 80 miles. In his narrative of this journey he writes:—

“Whether or not land exists within the 360 miles which stretch from the
limit of our view to the northern axis of the globe is, so far as
sledge-travelling is concerned, immaterial. Sixty miles of such pack as
we now know to extend north of Cape Joseph Henry is an insuperable
obstacle to travelling in that direction with our present appliances;
and I unhesitatingly affirm that it is impracticable to reach the North
Pole by the Smith Sound route.”

Let us now follow the northern sledge-party which left the _Alert_ on
3rd April 1876. The dépôt of provisions at Cape Joseph Henry was reached
on 10th April, and the remainder of that day was employed in bringing
the provisions off to the sledges, which were left on the ice. Up to
this point the northern and western parties had travelled together. Next
day they separated, and the two supporting sledges returned to the ship.

The ice over which the northern party had to travel was of an extremely
rugged character. Roads had frequently to be made before the sledges
could be dragged forwards. To make matters worse, the snow in many
places had drifted to such a depth that the men were frequently
floundering in it up to their waists. Little mention is made of
snow-shoes throughout the expedition, and here undoubtedly they would
have been of great service. At first they attempted to console
themselves with the idea that the irregular and broken sea of ice was
only caused by the proximity to the land, and that they should
afterwards meet with smooth level floes, on which they should advance
rapidly. The belts of hummocks that separated the floes varied from 20
yards to half a mile in breadth, and were from 15 to 50 feet in height.
In order to keep the sun as much as possible at their backs, they
travelled between noon and midnight. During the first week the
temperature was usually about 30° below zero, and little sleep could be
obtained. On the 14th one of the crew complained of pains in his ankles
and knees. Although ignorant of the fact, this was the first appearance
of the dreaded scurvy. During the 15th and 16th they were confined to
tent by a gale, with a temperature of 67° below freezing-point. On the
17th another of the crew was found suffering from swollen and puffy
knee-joints.

On the 19th, Markham decided to abandon the larger boat. This boat had
always been regarded as an incubus by the party, and every one was well
pleased to get rid of it. Even then, in order to advance the three
sledges, the road had to be frequently walked over five times. On this
day, the 19th, a third man fell ill. On the 24th the 83rd parallel of
latitude was crossed. Other two of the party exhibited symptoms of
scurvy on the 27th. The temperature on the 28th rose to 2°, the first
day the thermometer registered above zero. On the 2nd of May Markham
became convinced that his invalids were suffering from scurvy. Great as
were the natural difficulties which surrounded him, this was rightly
regarded as the most formidable of all obstacles to their advance that
could possibly be imagined. On the 7th May three of the invalids had to
be carried on the sledge, and the other two could scarcely walk. On the
10th, Markham arrived at the determination of dragging the sledges no
farther in a northerly direction. He decided to give the invalids two
days’ rest. In order to insure being within 400 miles of the North Pole,
the whole of the party, with the exception of the invalids and two men
to look after them, started on the 12th to the northward, carrying with
them the sextant, artificial horizon, and all their colours and banners.
Shortly before noon, the artificial horizon was set up, and the flags
and sledge-standards displayed. The latitude was found to be 83° 20′ 26″
N., or 399½ miles from the North Pole. The announcement of the position
was received with three cheers, with one more for Captain Nares; then
all sang the “Union Jack of Old England,” winding up, like loyal
subjects, with “God Save the Queen.”

The return journey was then commenced. Day by day their strength
diminished. Gradually, but surely, the men, one after the other, began
to feel the cruel grasp of the scurvy, as they struggled manfully on,
dragging their helpless companions. Towards the end of May, although the
temperature of the outside air was below the freezing-point, the sun was
so powerful that it would raise the temperature inside the tent to as
much as 70° or 80°. Snow fell heavily during the greater part of the
return journey, and fogs were very prevalent. On the 19th of May ominous
symptoms of a disruption of the pack were seen. A crack in some ice had
opened considerably. On the 25th the 83rd parallel of latitude was
recrossed.

The condition of the party was so critical on the 27th that it became
only too painfully evident that, to insure their reaching the land
alive, the sledge must be considerably lightened in order to admit of a
more rapid advance. The state of the party was on that day as follows:
five men were in a very precarious condition, utterly unable to move,
and consequently had to be carried on the sledges; five others nearly as
bad, but who nobly persisted in hobbling after the sledges, which they
could just manage to accomplish, for, as the sledges had to be advanced
one by one, it gave them plenty of time to perform the distance; whilst
three others exhibited all the premonitory scorbutic symptoms. Thus only
the two officers and two men could be considered as effective!

“I therefore,” writes Markham, “decided to abandon the remaining boat,
which would materially lessen the load to be dragged.”

On the 29th May the tents were pitched close to the boat that they
abandoned on their outward journey. It was exactly in the same condition
as when left.

On the 31st, whilst crossing some young ice between two heavy floes, one
of the sledges broke through, and it was with difficulty that it was
dragged out again.

On the 5th of June they reached land. Two days later, Lieutenant Parr
started on an arduous march to the ship, in order to obtain assistance.
Next day one of the invalids, George Porter, died. On the 9th a
dog-sledge arrived from the ship, and on the following day a larger
party, headed by Captain Nares, arrived. The ship was reached at 1.30
a.m. on the 14th of June. Out of the original party of fifteen men,
three only were capable of dragging the sledge, the remaining eleven
having to be carried alongside the ship on the relief-sledges.

Commander Markham on his return reported: “I feel it impossible for my
pen to depict with accuracy, and yet be not accused of exaggeration, the
numerous drawbacks that impeded our progress. One point, however, in my
opinion is most definitely settled, and that is, the utter
impracticability of reaching the North Pole over the floe in this
locality; and in this opinion my able colleague, Lieutenant Parr,
entirely concurs. I am convinced that with the very lightest equipped
sledges, carrying no boats, and with all the resources of the ship
concentrated in the one direction, and also supposing that perfect
health might be maintained, the latitude attained by the party I had the
honour and pleasure of commanding would not be exceeded by many miles,
certainly not by a degree.”

To this Nares added: “In this I most fully concur. Markham’s journey,
coupled with the experience gained by Sir Edward Parry in the summer of
1827, and more recently the memorable retreat of Lieutenant Weyprecht
and his companions after having abandoned the _Tegetthoff_ off the coast
of Franz-Josef Land, proves that a lengthened journey over the Polar
pack-ice with a sledge-party equipped with a boat fit for navigable
purposes is impracticable at any season of the year.”

It was left for Nansen and Peary to prove that Nares and Markham were
wrong.

We will now follow the sledge-party to the west. After parting company
with Markham on the 11th of April, Aldrich and Giffard with their two
sledges crossed Feilden Peninsula—the watershed of which was estimated
to be 500 feet above the sea-level. They reached the shore of James Ross
Bay on the 15th. Four hares were shot and traces of ptarmigan seen.
These hares were the only game obtained. Crossing the bay, Crozier
Island was visited on the 17th. On the 19th, the Parry Peninsula, 2½
miles in breadth, was crossed, and the shore of Clements Markham Inlet
reached. On the 22nd, Cape Colan, the west point of the inlet, was
arrived at, and a dépôt of provisions left for the return journey.

On the 25th, Giffard and his crew, after completing the other sledge to
forty-four days’ provisions, parted company, to return to the _Alert_.

For the next seven days, when Cape Columbia was reached, Aldrich’s
sledge being fully laden, the daily advance was extremely slow, as usual
in similar journeys, and the soft snow entailed very severe labour. On
the 30th April, Aldrich wrote: “The Sergeant-Major has just shown me a
very ugly-looking red patch or blotch just above the ankle; the limb is
slightly swollen.” This was a sign of scurvy, which was not suspected
for some time afterwards. Cape Aldrich, where a dépôt of provisions was
left, was reached on 1st May. Cape Columbia, the most northern point
attained, was also reached on 1st May. The latitude was found to be 83°
7′ N. On the 8th of May another dépôt was formed; and on the 10th,
Aldrich writes: “The men are nearly all suffering a great deal with
their unfortunate legs, which appear to get worse every day. This we all
feel to be very disappointing, as it affects the journey, and although
stiff limbs were expected, every one thought the stiffness would wear
off in time.” Milne Bay was crossed on the 14th, and the camp was
pitched in Yelverton Bay on the 15th. On the 18th May, Aldrich decided
to return. Provisions were running short, and the condition of his crew
was becoming worse. He had then reached longitude 85° 33′ W. On the
homeward journey the attack of scurvy gradually became more pronounced,
and the fast-increasing weakness of the men rendered the daily distance
accomplished so short that the provisions placed in dépôt on the passage
out were insufficient to last them, on full allowance, while travelling
from one dépôt to another.

On the 5th of June they passed Cape Columbia on their return; and on the
7th the dreaded word “scurvy” was used for the first time. The dépôt at
Cape Colan was reached on the 11th. On the 13th, Aldrich writes: “Got on
very fairly till eight o’clock, when Good nearly fainted. There appears
to be utter inability to get breath, no pain, and no difficulty to speak
of in breathing when at rest. The least exertion brings it on.”

On the 20th, when it was becoming evident that they could not reach the
ship without assistance, they met a party of three who had been sent to
their relief. On the 23rd other two came to their assistance; and on the
25th a party of officers with Captain Nares hurried them to the ship.

The only other sledge-journey of importance was that along the Greenland
coast, in charge of Lieutenant Beaumont. Accompanied by Dr. Coppinger
and sixteen men dragging two sledges, he started from the _Discovery_ on
the 6th of April for Floeberg Beach, intending to make the _Alert_ his
base for the exploration. The _Alert_ was reached on the 16th, and after
four days’ rest, Beaumont with Rawson, Coppinger, and twenty-one men,
dragging four sledges weighted to 218 lb. per man, started for Repulse
Harbour, Greenland. Robeson Channel was crossed without much difficulty,
but a great mass of hummocks had to be cut through at the entrance to
Repulse Harbour. Here the provisions were redistributed on three
sledges, a cairn built, and a site selected for the dépôt to be left for
the return journey.

They started northward on the 27th April, and as it had been impressed
upon Beaumont that it was necessary to keep to the land so as to prevent
leaving an impassable barrier in the rear in the event of the ice
breaking up, he struggled on along steep snow-slopes where roads had to
be cut, rather than take to the comparatively level floes. At Black Horn
Cliffs, however, it was found impossible to keep to the land; they
therefore took to the ice, but again returned to the land a short
distance beyond the cliffs. On the 4th of May a dépôt was formed for the
return journey, and Coppinger left on this date. On the 6th of May one
of the crew complained of stiffness in the legs, and next day when he
was examined by Beaumont the latter suspected scurvy. On the 10th he
decided that Lieutenant Rawson, with his party, should take this man
back, and on arrival at Repulse Harbour either cross over to the _Alert_
or go on to Polaris Bay.

On the 10th of May, Beaumont ascended Mount Wyatt, 2050 feet, from which
he saw that the line of hummocks stretched for 10 or 12 miles in the
direction of Mount Hooker, and then turned to the northward, and ran
straight for the west end of the distant land. All to the eastward of
this boundary was smooth and level, while to the westward lay the Polar
pack, with its floes and chains of hummocks.

A dépôt was left at Cape Bryant, and then Beaumont made for Cape
Fulford, which is the north extremity of the line of cliffs on the west
side of St. George’s Fiord. The road across the mouth of the fiord was
very good, and, arrived at Dragon Point, they opened out another wide
reach of bays and fiords. Beaumont was anxious to reach Mount Hooker,
from which he expected to see not only the islands to the north, but get
the best idea of the trend of the mainland; he encountered, however,
soft snow which varied from 2 to 4½ feet in depth: they had “literally
to climb out of the holes made by each foot in succession.” Why
snow-shoes were not used seems beyond comprehension. Beaumont writes:
“The shore for which we were making did not seem more than 2 miles off,
so I went ahead to see if the travelling was better under the cliffs. I
got about a mile and a half ahead of the sledge in three hours, and then
gave it up. I was nearly done; so I hailed them to go to lunch, but
would rather have missed three meals than gone back all that distance.”
The men struggled on, sometimes dragging the sledge on their hands and
knees to relieve their aching legs, or hauling her ahead with a long
rope and standing pulls.

On the 19th of May, Beaumont writes: “Nobody will ever believe what hard
work this becomes on the fourth day; but this may give them some idea of
it. When halted for lunch, two of the men crawled for 200 yards on their
hands and knees, rather than walk unnecessarily through this awful
snow.” This snow was too much for them: on the 22nd May they started on
the return journey without having reached Mount Hooker. A record was
left in a cairn on the north end of Reef Island. At Dragon Point a chart
and another record were left in a cairn, and Beaumont and Alexander Gray
set off to ascend the highest mountain in the neighbourhood. The
elevation was 3700 feet and the view was magnificent, but Beaumont did
not see what he wanted:—“The Mount Hooker Land hid the islands, and the
Cape Buttress channel was shut in. Mount Albert I could see was a
separate island. Cape Britannia, as far as could be seen, had very high
land far back. Stephenson Land was quite hidden behind Mount Hooker
Land, which latter towards Cape Buttress extended very far back to the
eastward. Cape Buttress overlapped it, but inside and above the cape
could be seen either a hummocky floe or a _mer de glace_; it looked like
a floe, but its skyline had a perceptible curve in it—a haze hung over
this part. By the look of the land and shore, a passage seemed to
connect St. George’s Fiord with St. Andrew’s Bay. St. George’s Fiord
could be traced continuing to the south, after making a slight bend to
the west. The view inland in that direction stretched away without a
break as far as the eye could reach, all much about the same elevation.
Mount Punch stood out from most of the other mountains, and Grant’s Land
was distinctly visible, the United States’ range being very
conspicuous.”

After a short rest, they once more started, making for Cape Fulford.
Heavy snowfalls with thick fogs retarded their advance, and on the 28th
of May a dépôt was formed with 200 lb. of articles which they could
dispense with. With the exception of Beaumont and Gray, all the party
were suffering from scurvy, and steadily getting worse. Soon after this,
Paul fell down quite powerless, and had to be carried on the sledge; and
on the 7th June another man had to be placed beside him. Repulse Harbour
was reached on the 10th of June. It was decided to cross over to the
_Alert_, but after travelling about 1 mile over the ice they came to
water, and had to return and make their way to Polaris Bay, 40 miles
off. Next march Dobing broke down, and Jones felt so bad he did not
think he could walk much longer. They toiled painfully through McCormick
Pass, and reached Newman Bay. On the 22nd, Craig and Dobing almost
dragged themselves along, their breath failing entirely at every 10
yards. On the 23rd it became necessary to carry both Dobing and Craig.
The last journey under such terrible conditions may be described in
Beaumont’s words: “On the evening of the 24th we started for our last
journey with the sledge, as I thought; for finding that Jones and Gray
were scarcely able to pull, I had determined to reach the shore at the
plain, pitch the tent, and walk over by myself to Polaris Bay to see if
there was any one there to help us; if not, come back, and sending Jones
and Gray, who could still walk, to the dépôt, remain with the sick and
get them on as best I could. But I thank God it did not come to this,
for as we were plodding along the now water-sodden floe towards the
shore, I saw what turned out to be a dog-sledge and three men, and soon
after had the pleasure of shaking hands with Lieutenant Rawson and Dr.
Coppinger. Words cannot express the pleasure, relief, and gratitude we
all felt at this timely meeting.”

Newman Bay dépôt was reached next day. Hans, who arrived with Rawson and
Coppinger, made good use of his skill as a driver. Both Paul and Jenkins
were now in a critical condition, so it was decided on the 28th that Dr.
Coppinger and Hans, with the two men on the eight-man sledge drawn by
the dogs, should start for the Polaris Bay dépôt. Paul, however,
gradually grew weaker, and died on the afternoon of the 29th.

It will be convenient here to go back to Rawson’s journey to Polaris Bay
after leaving Beaumont. Owing to two more of his crew breaking down,
leaving only himself and one man, E. Rayner, strong enough to drag the
sledge, they did not succeed in reaching Polaris Bay till the 3rd of
June, after a most arduous journey on reduced rations, and during
several days of which Rawson was himself so badly affected with
snow-blindness that he had to pull the sledge while blindfold. James
Hand expired a few hours after their arrival at Polaris Bay.

On the 8th August, Beaumont with his companions started on their
perilous journey across Hall’s Basin to Discovery Bay. After two hours
on the ice, they came to a large space of water 3 miles broad, and
launched their boat, which had previously been taken across from the
_Discovery_. They had repeatedly to draw the boat on the ice, haul it on
their sledge till water was again met, and then launch. While crossing
they found themselves drifting south, and were in the greatest danger of
being swept into Kennedy Channel; fortunately, a wind from the
south-east set in, and they eventually reached land between Cape Lieber
and Cape Baird on the 12th, and arrived at Discovery Bay on 14th August.

After the return of the northern and western sledge-parties so
completely broken down, Captain Nares determined to give up all further
exploration, and to proceed to the southward with both ships as soon as
the ice should break up and release them. On the 31st July the _Alert_
succeeded in escaping from the ice at Floeberg Beach, and after meeting
many difficulties reached Discovery Bay on 12th August.

Nares writes: “On the 16th, the weather still remaining distressingly
fine and calm, an excursion was made to the coal-beds near Cape
Murchison. This deposit of coal, or, more correctly, lignite, is exposed
in a ravine near Watercourse Bay, for a distance of over 200 yards. At
its greatest exposure the thickness of the seam is 25 feet, but we had
no means of ascertaining how much deeper it descended below the level of
the stream. Above the coal are beds of shale and sandstones. The coal
was pronounced after trial by our engineers to be equal to the best
Welsh. The seam where exposed is at an elevation of about 200 feet above
the sea-level, and at a distance of about a mile from the shore of
Watercourse Bay, in Robeson Channel. Unfortunately, very little shelter
is obtainable for a large vessel among the small floebergs stranded in
this indentation. The distance between the coal-seam and Discovery Bay
is about 4 miles, and the track leads over the brow of a hill about 800
feet high.

“A short distance above the quarry, in a narrow part of the ravine where
a large quantity of snow, collected in a shaded part, remains unmelted
during the summer, the mountain torrent has melted away a watercourse
for itself through the snow-bank. In winter this ice grotto, with a
trifling expense of labour, could be readily formed into a convenient
Arctic residence.”

On the 18th August, Captain Stephenson deposited an account of their
proceedings in a cairn which had been constructed out of the empty
preserved meat-tins, refilled with gravel. A post-office box was placed
in the centre of the pile.

On the 20th August the ice opened sufficiently to allow the two ships to
leave for the south. At Cape Isabella they found a package of letters
and newspapers left there by Sir Allen Young a few weeks previously.

Nares writes: “After our long sojourn within the Polar ice it was a
strange transition to feel the ship rise and fall once more on the
‘north water’ of Baffin’s Bay, and to look astern and see Cape Isabella,
one of the massive portals of Smith Sound, fading away in an obscurity
of snow and midnight darkness; whilst an ice-blink stretching across the
northern horizon reminded us forcibly of the perils, dangers, and
anxieties that we had contended against for so many months.

“In comparing the voyage of the _Polaris_ and that of the _Alert_ and
_Discovery_, it is evident that the navigation of the ice which is to be
met with every year in Kane Sea is entirely dependent on the westerly
winds. Both in 1875 and 1876 we met navigable water off Cape Victoria in
latitude 79° 12′ with only a narrow pack 15 miles in breadth between it
and Grinnell Land, which a westerly wind of a few hours’ duration would
certainly have driven to the eastward. The same wind would have opened a
channel along the shore, and any vessel waiting her opportunity at Payer
Harbour could under those circumstances have passed up the channel with
as little difficulty as the _Polaris_ experienced in 1871.

“The quantity of one season’s ice met with in the bays on the south-east
coast of Grinnell Land in 1876 proves that on the final setting in of
the frost, after we passed north in 1875, the pack had been driven from
the shore, leaving a navigable channel along the land. Nevertheless, I
do not recommend future navigators who wish to obtain a high northern
latitude by this route to wait for such a favourable occurrence.
Certainly no one could have made a passage through the ice in 1876
before the 10th September by doing so. At that date the season had
advanced so far that the attainment of sheltered winter-quarters would
have been extremely problematical.”

The two ships arrived at Portsmouth Harbour on the 2nd November.

This expedition, sent out regardless of expense, achieved very much less
than had been anticipated. The chief cause of failure was the outbreak
of scurvy, which completely paralysed the undertaking. The real cause of
the outbreak was never discovered, but it was probably due to the want
of fresh meat. The methods adopted to reach a high latitude were
practically identical with those of Parry used half a century before.
After all their experience, both Markham and Nares emphatically declared
their conviction that it was impossible under any circumstances for a
sledge-party, even without boats, and with all possible resources, to
reach 1 degree beyond that reached by the expedition. It was an American
naval officer, Commander Peary, who proved in 1906 that a point nearly 4
degrees farther north could be attained over the same sea; and in 1909,
starting from the coast a little to the west of his previous route, he
succeeded in reaching the Pole itself.




                              CHAPTER VIII
                THE VOYAGE OF THE _JEANNETTE_ (1879−81)


The _Jeannette_ was the new name given to Sir Allen Young’s _Pandora_
after it was purchased by James Gordon Bennett, who had decided to equip
a North Polar expedition.

The commander of the expedition, Lieutenant George W. De Long, had taken
an active and distinguished part in the search for the _Polaris_. In
making an attempt to reach the Pole, he favoured the route by Behring
Strait, and he was supported by Bennett himself, who had been influenced
by the views of Dr. Petermann, the German geographer. One of the chief
reasons for choosing the Behring Strait route was the supposed existence
of a Japan current, which, it was hoped, would open a way towards the
Pole. Another reason was the view held as to the extent of Wrangel Land.
Petermann actually believed that it extended right across the Pole and
was the continuation of Greenland. It was afterwards proved to be only a
small island.

Lieutenant Chipp, the second in command, acted with De Long in the
search for the _Polaris_. George W. Melville, chief engineer, had been a
comrade of De Long’s in the navy. The ice-pilot was William Dunbar, who
had been master of whale-ships in and north of Behring Strait.
Nindemann, the ice-quartermaster, was one of the crew of the _Polaris_
who underwent the terrible winter-drift on the ice-floe.

The _Jeannette_ left San Francisco on the 8th July 1879. A schooner,
laden with 100 tons coal and such provisions as the _Jeannette_ could
not conveniently carry, followed on the same date.

Ounalaska Island was reached on the 2nd August, and left on the 6th.
Here, coal, dog-food, and furs were obtained. De Long mentions that
there was not a white woman in the place. The native women evidently do
not expect a long courtship. A number of men had been brought from St.
Paul’s Island on the Thursday; they made their selections on the Friday
and Saturday, and were married on the Sunday.

St. Michael’s was reached on 12th August, but the schooner did not
arrive until the 18th. Here, forty dogs, five sledges, snow-shoes,
boots, and a large quantity of skin-garments were obtained. Two natives,
named Alexey and Aneguin, were hired as interpreters and dog-drivers.
The total number of persons on board the _Jeannette_ was now
thirty-three.

De Long had been instructed to make inquiries concerning Professor
Nordenskjöld, who had nearly reached Behring Strait in making his famous
north-east passage during the previous year. For this purpose he left
St. Michael’s on 21st August, and made for St. Lawrence Bay, Siberia,
which he reached on the 25th, after a stormy passage. Here he
ascertained that a ship which had been frozen in during the previous
winter in Koliutchin Bay, had left St. Lawrence Bay some time before. De
Long believed that this must have been Nordenskjöld’s ship, but to make
certain he decided to make inquiries near where the Professor wintered.
He visited Koliutchin Bay, and found satisfactory proof that
Nordenskjöld had wintered there, and had left in safety. It was now the
31st August, and De Long was free to continue his voyage to the north,
but unfortunately the navigation season was drawing to a close. The
lateness of the date when the _Jeannette_ left San Francisco, her want
of speed, and the delay caused by her search for Nordenskjöld placed De
Long at a great disadvantage.

Pack-ice was met as early as the 2nd September. Herald Island was
sighted on the 4th, and on the same date land was seen away to the
south-west.

On the 6th September the _Jeannette_ was beset, within a week after
leaving the Siberian coast, and was never afterwards released. On the
9th September the position by observation was found to be 71° 35′ N.,
175° 5′ 48″ W.

On the 13th September, De Long sent four men with a sledge to make an
attempt to reach Herald Island. They returned next day and reported that
they had been forced to return when about 5 miles from the island. Broad
leads and rotten ice had been met, and it was evidently impossible to
sledge to the island.

By this time it was observed that the _Jeannette_ was being slowly
drifted in the ice towards the north-west. On the 15th September the
position was 71° 46′ N., 175° 36′ W., or about 15 miles to the
north-west of the position on the 9th. All hope of getting out of the
ice before next summer was now almost given up, and the best that could
be expected was that the _Jeannette_ might drift to Wrangel Land before
spring. However, after drifting some distance to the north-west, the
_Jeannette_ was drifted to the east, and then to the south-west, thus
forming a triangle, and after a month’s drift she reached a point near
where she began.

On the 21st October the thermometer fell to zero for the first time.
Preparations were made for the winter, and De Long took great
precautions to see that everything possible was done to insure the
health of the party. Special attention was paid to the proper
ventilation of the ship and the avoidance of damp. The surgeon, Dr.
Ambler, frequently tested the amount of carbonic acid gas in the air;
and a thorough examination of the whole party was made monthly.

During October the land to the south-west of Herald Island was
frequently seen, and De Long came to the conclusion that it was Wrangel
Land, and must either be an island or an archipelago.

Before the sun disappeared on the 16th November a considerable number of
seals, several bears, and some walruses had been shot, and served as an
important addition to the stock of food for both men and dogs.

During November ice pressures became severe. On the 24th, the floe in
which the _Jeannette_ had been fixed was split, and the ship was once
more afloat, but in a most dangerous position. On the 25th, it was
driven by the ice about a mile from its previous position, until it held
fast in some young ice.

At this time considerable difficulty was experienced in obtaining water
of proper purity. There was little snow on the ice, and what there was
contained a large quantity of salt, due to the wind drifting it and
mixing it with the salt on the surface of the ice. It was therefore
necessary to commence distilling.

The ice pressure was much less severe during December. From the 2nd to
the 18th the change of position was only 8 miles towards the west.
Christmas was passed merrily. About the end of December, Danenhower, the
navigator of the ship, began to suffer from an inflammatory trouble in
one of his eyes, from which he did not recover during the remainder of
the cruise.

The year 1880 was ushered in by a minstrel entertainment given by the
crew. On the 19th January the disagreeable discovery was made that the
ship was leaking seriously. The ice pressure had evidently caused
serious injury. On examination it was found that the water already stood
3 ft. in the forehold.

The deck-pumps were at once manned, and fortunately were able to keep
the water in check until steam could be raised to work the steam-pump.
This was a serious drain on the small supply of coal, but Melville was
equal to every emergency. He ultimately succeeded in pumping by means of
a windmill. Every effort was made to stop the leak, and although partly
successful, pumping had to be resorted to more or less continuously
throughout the remainder of the cruise. Nindemann and Sweetman took
turns about in standing in the water in the forepeak building a bulkhead
across it. For this work they received high commendation from De Long.

On the 26th January they had the pleasure of welcoming the reappearance
of the sun. On the 1st of February a bear was killed, and as no fresh
meat had been available for some time, this was a welcome addition to
the stock of food. Another bear was killed on the 2nd, and when the
stomach was examined it was found to contain only a few small stones.

On 6th March 1880 the position of the ship was 72° 12′ N., 175° 30′ W.,
which was only 26′ north and 6′ east of the position on the 15th
September 1879. This proves the absence of a definite current. The depth
of water varied from 30 to 40 fathoms, and the bottom usually consisted
of blue mud. On the 20th March, De Long stated that he was now convinced
that the drifting during the winter had been entirely caused by the
winds, and not by any current. During March the north side of Wrangel
Land was frequently visible.

On the 1st of May the sun could be seen at midnight. On the 5th May the
position was found to be 73° 11′ 24″ N., 179° 37′ 30″ E., indicating a
considerable drift since the beginning of March. It also showed that the
180th meridian had been crossed. On the 20th May the stock of coal
amounted to only 60 tons, and De Long became impatient to get out of the
ice. The total drift towards the north-west during the month of May was
very good, amounting to 82 miles.

The drift during June was nearly the reverse of what it was during May,
the _Jeannette_ at the end of the month being 50 miles south of where
she was at the beginning of it. There was still no sign of release from
the ice, and the consequent disappointment was very great.

During July the temperature was usually near freezing-point, and yet De
Long felt the cold much more than when the temperature was 30° below
zero. The latter was what he described as a hard, dry cold, whereas the
former was a soft, wet cold that penetrated at once. At the end of the
month they were back again to the 180th meridian; the summer had nearly
gone, and still there were no signs of a change. The monotony of waiting
for “something to turn up” was found extremely trying.

On the 1st of August one of the dogs died, and on a post-mortem being
made it was discovered that the dog’s death was caused by his swallowing
a sharp bone, which cut through his intestines. Several other dogs were
lost from the same cause.

Throughout the cruise, De Long took the strictest precautions to see
that the water used for drinking and cooking was as free as possible
from salt. After very thorough investigation, he arrived at the
conclusion that sea-water ice, under whatever circumstances it may be
found, is a treacherous and unsafe element to use.

The drift during August amounted to about 50 miles towards the
north-east. The navigable season was now nearly at an end, and another
monotonous winter in the pack awaited them. At the end of twelve months
the _Jeannette_ was only 150 miles from the point where she was first
beset.

Preparations for winter had again to be made: a deck-house was erected,
a porch was built around the cook-house, snow was banked against the
ship’s side, and various alterations were made for the greater comfort
of the crew. On the 29th September, when fresh meat was nearly gone, a
bear weighing 943½ lb. before skinning was killed, and another was
obtained next day.

The sun disappeared on the 6th November, and on this day the temperature
was 30° below zero at noon. Severe ice pressures were again experienced,
but did not excite so much alarm as did those of the first winter. On
the 30th November the 74th degree of latitude had been reached for the
second time.

A bear weighing 800 lb. was killed on the 2nd December. On the 11th
December the temperature was 39° below zero, and the ice gave loud
reports like the discharges of heavy guns. De Long believed that the
noise was due to the splitting of the ice under contraction caused by
the intense cold. At midnight on the 15th December the temperature was
−48°. On the 21st a post-mortem was made on another dog, and the cause
of death was ascertained to be the presence in the intestines of several
mutton-bones, two pieces of a tin can, a piece of cloth, and the fag end
of a rope. Christmas Eve was spent in the enjoyment of a minstrel
entertainment, and Christmas had a more than usually elaborate dinner,
consisting of soup, roast seal, apple jelly, tongue, macaroni, tomatoes,
mince pies, plum pudding, figs, raisins, dates, nuts, candy, chocolate,
and coffee.

The year 1881 was welcomed by another entertainment by the “Jeannette
Minstrels.” The ship was now 220 miles north-west of where it was first
beset, and the whole party, with the exception of Danenhower, were in
good health. No serious case of frost-bite had occurred, although both
officers and men were frequently out on the ice when the temperature was
more than 40° below zero. On the 27th January the latitude was 74° 20′
56″, the highest yet attained.

The sun was again seen on 5th February, so that their night had been 91
days, against 71 of the previous year. On the 14th the 75th parallel was
reached, and soundings gave 44 fathoms. Next day great astonishment was
caused when the lead-line gave 57 fathoms. A bear was killed on the
18th.

During March, as the latitude increased, so did the depth of water. On
the 17th it was 67 fathoms, and on the 19th, 71 fathoms; latitude, 75°
15′. On 8th April, in latitude 75° 46′, the depth was 75½ fathoms; and
in 75° 53′ 30″, on the 16th, it was 84 fathoms.

The 76th parallel of latitude was reached on the 21st April, and during
the next four days the drift towards the west was no less than 47 miles.

On the 16th May great excitement was caused by the discovery of land.
The latitude on this date was 76° 43′ 20″ N., and longitude 161° 53′ 45″
E. The land was only a small island, Jeannette Island, but its discovery
caused great rejoicing among the party, who had looked at nothing but
ice and sky during fourteen months. Another island, Henrietta Island,
was discovered on the 24th May. The latitude on this date was 77° 16′.

On 31st May a party of six in charge of Melville started for Henrietta
Island. They took a light boat, a sledge and fifteen dogs, and seven
days’ provisions. De Long wished to know whether there was any bay in
which he could place the ship, and whether there was animal or bird life
with which he could replenish his waning stock of provisions.

On the 1st of June the doctor made the startling announcement that
several of the party on board were suffering from lead-poisoning. An
examination was made, and traces of lead were found in the water, and in
still larger quantity in the tomatoes. It was supposed that the juice of
the tomato had acted on the solder used in the tins.

The Henrietta party returned on the 5th June. They landed on the island
on 2nd June, and left a record in a cairn. The island was found to be
desolate rock, surmounted by a snow-cap. The cliffs were inaccessible;
and dovekies nesting in the face of the rock were the only signs of
life.

On the 10th of June the ice suddenly opened alongside the ship, which
settled down nearly to her proper bearings. There was now a small canal
on the port side, and into this De Long had a heavy floe hauled so as to
receive the pressure in the event of the ice closing. This was at first
successful, but later the ice closed in with great force, jamming the
ship hard against the ice on the starboard side, and causing her to heel
16° to starboard. Orders were at once given to lower the starboard boats
and haul them to a safe position. Melville, while below in the
engine-room, saw a break across the ship in the wake of the boilers and
engines, and it was evident that the ship was breaking in two. Orders
were now given to remove sledges and certain provisions which had long
been kept in readiness in case the ship might have to be abandoned. At
4.30 p.m. there was a lull in the pressure, and De Long began to hope
that the worst was over, but at 5 p.m. the pressure was renewed with
tremendous force. Everything needful for a retreat over the ice was now
hurriedly removed to a place of safety. At 6 p.m. it was found that the
_Jeannette_ was beginning to fill, and at 8 p.m. everybody was ordered
to leave the ship. At 4 a.m. of the 12th the _Jeannette_ disappeared
beneath the water, in latitude 77° 14′ 57″ N., longitude 154° 58′ 45″ E.

Preparations were at once begun for the retreat to the Siberian coast.
The first and second cutter and the whale-boat had to be mounted on
their travelling-sledges; bags had to be made to hold bread, tea,
coffee, and sugar; and sledges had to be overhauled and relashed. To get
their weights as exactly as possible, they had to start with an ounce
weight and the doctor’s scales, and work up by a number of Remington
cartridges to a pound. Two empty meat-tins tied to the end of a stick
suspended by its centre formed the scale.

During this time they lived on plenty of food, as they had saved more
than they could take with them. The clothing allowance for each officer
and man was limited to what he was actually wearing and the contents of
a packed knapsack.

All arrangements having been made, the start to the southward began on
the evening of the 18th June. The party had three boats, seven sledges,
and twenty-three dogs. Dunbar was sent ahead to select a route and plant
flags for the party’s guidance. Danenhower, Chipp, Alexey, and Kuehne
were on the sick list, but could walk. The five McClintock sledges
carried 1659 lb., 1318 lb., 1252 lb., 1342 lb., and 1325 lb.
respectively. During the first day these loads were found to be too
heavy, and De Long saw that instead of being able to advance the boats
and provisions in three separate hauls as he had hoped, he must be
satisfied if he could do it in six. It was therefore necessary to repack
the sledges. Even with the lighter loads, the runners of the sledges
were frequently doubling under during the first few days. On the 20th
June it rained steadily for eight hours, and instead of starting as
usual at 6 p.m., the party did not get off till 2.30 a.m. of the 21st.
Openings in the ice were already met, and caused great delay. Small
ice-floes had to be dragged into position to form a bridge over which
the sledges were dragged.

On the 25th June, after a severe week’s work, De Long obtained his first
opportunity of ascertaining his latitude. His feelings may be imagined
when he found that he was 28 miles farther north than where he started
from a week before! He wisely kept this discouraging fact from the
knowledge of the general party. He now altered his course from south to
south-west. On this date Chipp was so weak that he had to be carried on
a sledge.

On the 26th June five bridges had to be built over leads: the heaviest
sledge fell into the water, but was dragged out; and Melville went in up
to his waist. On the 27th eleven hours’ hard work carried them only 1¼
mile. One lead 40 feet wide, and another 60 feet wide, had to be
crossed. Yet under all these difficulties everybody was bright and
cheerful. It was no uncommon thing to have four leads to bridge in half
a mile, and sometimes as soon as one was bridged another opened in the
rear. Over this rough and ever-changing path six, and sometimes seven
trips had to be made. It is not to be wondered at that the work was
terribly laborious, and progress slow.

On the 3rd of July the latitude was found to be 15 miles farther south
than on the 25th June, so that the drift had not been against them. The
6th July was a wet and stormy day, and the party remained in their tents
until 6 p.m. of the 7th. On the 9th they were well satisfied with an
advance of 3 miles. On the 10th July some excitement was caused by the
appearance of land to the south-west. De Long was doubtful whether it
was really land, but next day from the top of a hummock he saw
unmistakable land, and also water.

Cocoa and chocolate were now exhausted, and the tea was reduced to half
an ounce per man. The ice became comparatively loose, and boats and
sledges had to be continually ferried across large openings on small
floes. On the 13th July the first serious breach of discipline among the
crew took place. E. Starr, one of the seamen, found a pair of wet soles
on his sleeping-bag. He flung them some distance on the ice, in a
temper, and refused to pick them up when ordered to do so by Melville.
For some time he also paid no attention to De Long, who at once put him
off duty.

On the 15th July a seal was shot, and proved useful both for food and
grease for leaking boots. Another seal was obtained on the 16th, but on
the other hand 270 lb. of pemmican was lost through the capsizing of a
dog-sledge. On this day also De Long was unfortunate enough to break
through the ice when jumping across an opening, and went up to his neck
in the water.

On the 20th July a walrus was shot and secured. The choice pieces were
used by the party, and the rest went to the dogs. The skin was cut into
pieces and divided for boot-soles. They had now to contend with a
moving, rotting pack, and they were greatly hindered by fog. Leads were
continually opening and closing, and large blocks of ice were being
swirled around, and carried first west and then east. On the 24th they
had the good fortune to kill a bear. On the 25th land seemed quite close
at hand, but after working 24 hours they had again to camp on the ice.
Fog delayed the next start till the evening of the 27th, when they again
hoped to reach land, but within half a mile of it they were stopped by
broken ice, and had again to camp. On the 28th, after great
difficulties, the land was at last reached. De Long took possession of
it in the name of the President of the United States, and named it
“Bennett Island.” After crossing the 180th degree of longitude, De Long
should have advanced his date one day, but he did not do so, as the
_Jeannette_ was sometimes drifted east and sometimes west of this line.
At Bennett Island he corrected the date, so that possession of it was
taken really on the 29th July.

Preparations were now made to take tidal observations, make sketches,
collect natural history specimens, and hunt for game, etc. Large
quantities of driftwood were scattered about the shore, and Melville
found a vein of bituminous coal. The face of the cliffs was alive with
dovekies, of which they obtained a fair number.

Bennett Island was left on 6th August, after a record had been deposited
in a cairn. Ten of the poorest dogs were shot, leaving twelve. On the
7th the party were able to take to their boats, and the men were
distributed as follows:—In first cutter, De Long, Ambler, Collins,
Nindemann, Ericksen, Kaack, Boyd, Alexey, Lee, Noros, Dressler, Görtz,
Iversen. In second cutter, Chipp, Dunbar, Sweetman, Sharvell, Kuehne,
Starr, Manson, Warren, Johnson, Ah Sam. In whale-boat, Melville,
Danenhower, Newcomb, Cole, Bartlett, Aneguin, Wilson, Lauterbach, Tong
Sing, Leach.

Soon after the boats started, four of the dogs jumped out and were lost.
Two St. Michael’s sledges and four McClintock sledges had been left
behind. On the 8th August other four dogs jumped from the boats, and two
dogs were shot, leaving only two.

A good deal of ice was still met with, and the boats had frequently to
be hauled on the ice and dragged across until open water was again
found. A seal was shot and secured on the 11th August. On this date they
calculated that they had advanced about 20 miles. Another seal was
obtained on the 15th, and as provisions were now running low, it was
very acceptable. The last ration of bread was served out on the 18th. On
the 19th the ice closed on the second cutter and stove a hole in the
bow. Chipp repaired it with a piece of Liebig box. On the 20th August
land was seen to the south-west. Preparations were now made for sea.
Snow was melted for water, and the boats overhauled, etc. On the 21st,
however, before they could start, the ice had closed around them, and it
was not until the 29th that they were able to take to the water.

On the 30th August they reached and landed on Faddejew Island. The
“Faddejew Hut” marked on the Russian chart was found tumbling to decay.
The island was left on the 31st August. On the 1st September the second
cutter was separated from the other two boats, and did not rejoin them
till the afternoon of the 3rd. In order to let Chipp have a better
chance of keeping up with the other two boats, De Long ordered one man,
Ah Sam, to his party, and another, Manson, to go in Melville’s boat.
This resulted in the saving of Manson’s life.

On the 4th September they landed on a low beach running out from the
island of Kotelnoi. Some of the party, next day, came across several
ruined huts, and in one of them was found an elephant tusk, a wooden
cup, a spoon, and a fork.

Kotelnoi Island was left on the 6th September. Semenooski Island was
reached on the 10th, and on this day the last of Liebig’s Extract was
used. It had been much liked by the party. On this small island they
were fortunate in killing a deer. They rested here till the 12th, and on
leaving deposited a record. They had still seven days’ provisions, and
De Long hoped to reach the Lena without difficulty.

A breeze sprang up on the afternoon of the 12th, and at 9 p.m. De Long
lost sight of the whale-boat ahead, and at 10 p.m. he lost sight of the
second cutter astern. The wind had now freshened to a gale. On the 13th
there was a tremendous sea, and the boat shipped a good deal of water.
An attempt was made to ride out the gale under the lee of a sail, but
after doing well for an hour, the sheet parted, and sail and yard were
lost. Nothing more was seen by De Long of the other two boats.

Land was sighted on the 16th September, but when more than a mile from
the shore the water was not deep enough to float the boat. They passed a
miserable night attached to some thin ice, and next morning several
attempts were made to reach land in the boat, but it always grounded. A
raft was then made, and on this were placed tents, cooking-stoves, and
boat-box. All the party had to wade knee-deep 1½ mile to the shore.
After a second load was landed, the boat was dragged to within half a
mile of the land. The remainder of the load had then to be carried. This
was completed at 10.20 p.m. in a snowstorm.

They rested over Sunday, 18th September, and set out on the 19th to walk
to a settlement believed to be 95 miles distant, on the Lena River. They
had about 3½ days rations. Everything not absolutely necessary was
cached, and a record left in the instrument-box. Even then it was found
soon after starting that the loads were too heavy, and log-books, stove,
some alcohol, a tent, and binoculars were sent back to the cache. The
road was bad, several of the men were lame, and occasionally they were
wading up to the knees.

On the 20th September another tent was left behind, as they found they
could not carry it. The day’s march took them over ponds with thin ice,
and mossy swamps. Ericksen had frost-bitten feet, and kept the rest of
the party back. At the end of the fourth mile De Long was compelled to
halt and open the last tin of pemmican. On starting out again, they
struck deer-tracks, and this gave great encouragement. They accordingly
pushed ahead, but soon afterwards De Long was informed that Ericksen had
lain down and desired to be left. De Long and the doctor went back and
got Ericksen on his feet again, but he was in a serious condition, and
it was evident that the progress of the party would be slow if they were
all to keep together. Nindemann and Alexey were sent ahead to trace the
deer, but they were unsuccessful, although they saw a herd of seven or
eight. They were again sent off, accompanied by Collins, and the
remainder of the party camped. De Long decided that if game were not
obtained he would send a small party forward to bring relief. Next day,
however, he pushed on again, although no game had yet been obtained. On
this march they came to two huts, and De Long decided to halt here. It
was his intention to send the doctor and Nindemann on next day for
relief. Alexey, however, who had been sent to examine some hut-like
objects, found deer-tracks, and as they seemed fresh, he followed them,
and was successful in killing two deer. He cut off a hind-quarter of
meat and set off for the hut. When he arrived, the remainder of the
party had retired for the night, but when the announcement was made that
deer had been obtained sleep was forgotten. Cooking soon began in both
huts, and the whole of the meat was consumed, with the exception of two
tongues, before they felt satisfied.

De Long now decided to remain at the huts and rest another day and live
on the deer. It was not, however, till two days had passed that a fresh
start was made. A record of the movements of the party was left in one
of the huts. De Long also left his Winchester rifle.

On the 24th September they passed a wretched night. Beds were made of a
few logs, and wrapped in their blankets the party tried to sleep, but
could not, and in the morning they were all cold and stiff. On the 25th
the remainder of the deer-meat was eaten for dinner. At night two other
huts were reached, and here they halted. Next day they had only food for
three more meals. They had also one dog.

On the 27th September another deer was shot, and the danger of
starvation was again averted. The hungry men at once commenced eating
fried deer-meat, and took about 3 lb. each. The party then went on
again, but Ericksen’s foot was very bad, and progress was slow.

On the 28th September they came to a point where they had no alternative
but to cross a river a quarter of a mile wide. No wood could be obtained
to build a raft large enough for the purpose, and they were forced to
stay here in an old hut until 1st October, when the river had frozen
over sufficiently to allow them to cross.

A large gull was shot on the 29th, and with this they made soup. Fires
were made when it was dark at night, in the hope of drawing attention.
On the 30th the doctor removed several of Ericksen’s toes.

On the 1st October a record was left in the hut, and the party then
crossed the river with Ericksen on a sledge. De Long now saw that the
chart in his possession was practically useless. He had been hoping to
reach a place marked on the chart as “Sagastyr,” but he now looked upon
this as a myth.

On the 2nd and 3rd they struggled on, and had to camp in the open at
night. On the 3rd October the last of the pemmican was eaten, and
nothing now remained but the dog, which was killed for supper. De Long
and other two men broke through the ice during the day’s march and got
thoroughly wet. At night they tried to dry themselves before a fire of
driftwood. Ericksen groaned and rambled in his talk, and the whole party
spent a most miserable night. On the morning of the 4th they moved to a
hut which had been discovered by Alexey the previous night. From his
chart De Long now arrived at the conclusion that he was on Tit Ary
Island, and about 25 miles from Ku Mark Surka, which he took to be a
settlement. It may here be mentioned, as indicating the worthless
character of De Long’s chart, that instead of being at Tit Ary Island as
he supposed, he was about 120 miles from it, and Ku Mark Surka lay 33
miles beyond that.

Ericksen died on the 6th, in the hut. He was buried in the river, and a
board with his name was stuck in the river-bank abreast of his grave. A
Winchester rifle, some ammunition, and a record were left in the hut,
and the party again moved on. The last of the dog-meat and the last of
the tea were used for breakfast. Some old tea-leaves and 2 quarts
alcohol were all that remained. Towards night, Alexey obtained a
ptarmigan, and with this soup was made. Breakfast on the 8th consisted
of 1 oz. alcohol in a pint of hot water. Dinner and supper were the
same.

On the 9th October, Nindemann and Noros were sent ahead for relief. They
carried their blankets, one rifle, 40 rounds ammunition, and 2 oz.
alcohol. The remainder of the party followed an hour afterwards. During
the march they all broke through the ice, and were wet up to the knees.
They stopped and built fires, and tried to dry their clothes. Alexey
shot three ptarmigans, with which they made soup. For supper they had
only half an ounce of alcohol.

On the 10th October the last of the alcohol was taken for breakfast, and
they began to eat deer-skin scraps of clothing. Lee showed signs of
collapsing, and wished to be left. For supper they had a spoonful of
glycerine. “All hands weak and feeble, but cheerful.”

On the 11th there was a gale of wind with snow, and they were unable to
move. On the 12th the last of the glycerine was taken for breakfast. For
dinner they tried two handfuls of Arctic willow infused in water. On the
13th willow-tea was again taken. On the 14th, Alexey shot a ptarmigan,
and soup was made. On the 15th the willow-tea was again repeated, and
two old boots were eaten.

All this time they were hoping to hear from Nindemann and Noros. On the
16th October, Alexey broke down, and died on the 17th. After this, no
food was obtained. Lee and Kaack died on the 21st, Iversen on the 28th,
Dressler on the 29th, Görtz on the 30th October. On the latter date
Collins was dying. Here the record of De Long ceases. The doctor and Ah
Sam must still have been alive.

It will now be convenient to follow the fortunes of Nindemann and Noros,
who were sent for relief. During their first march, on the 9th October,
Nindemann shot a ptarmigan, which served for their dinner. At night they
made a fire, drank willow-tea, and tried to obtain a little nourishment
from a burned boot-sole; then wrapping themselves in their blankets,
they lay down near the fire. For breakfast next morning they had a
little willow-tea and another boot-sole. Their course along the main
stream was a confused morass, and they were hindered by a high wind and
drifting snow. At night they made a hole in a snow-drift, in which they
camped. The wind was so high that although there was driftwood, a fire
could not be lighted. At noon on the 11th they stopped and kindled a
fire, meaning to heat a little of the alcohol which they carried; but
Noros, who had it in his pocket, found the bottle broken and the alcohol
lost. They had therefore to fall back on willow-tea and boot-sole. At
night they reached a hut in which they found some deer-bones. A fire was
kindled and the bones charred, and an effort was made to eat them. Next
morning a gale was blowing, and nothing could be seen but drifting snow.
They had therefore to remain in the hut. The journey was resumed on the
13th. A hut was seen on the opposite bank of the river, and an attempt
was made to cross the thin ice. They repeatedly went through up to their
waists, but finally succeeded in gaining the bank. Noros while searching
for firewood found a box containing two fish. Nindemann was fortunate
enough to seize a lemming, and on this and the fish they made their
supper. The fish were almost rotten, but they were soon devoured. Next
day they made a start, but were driven back by drifting snow to the hut,
where they stayed another twenty-four hours.

On the morning of the 15th October another start was made along the
river-bank. The night was passed in a kind of cave at the side of the
river. Their supper consisted of a piece of seal-skin pantaloons, which
was soaked in water and then burned to a crust. They passed a wretched
night. Next day they made for some hills they saw in the distance. No
willow could be found, and a piece of seal-skin was their only food.
They passed the night in a ravine, where they dug a hole in the snow.

On the 17th they struggled over streams and sand-spits, and had again to
pass the night in a hole in the snow. The wind was too high to allow a
fire, and it was too cold to allow sleep. On the 18th they reached a
ruined hut almost filled with snow. They cleared out sufficient to give
them sleeping-room, and after taking some willow-tea and a piece of
seal-skin, they lay down for the night. On the 19th they were so weak
that they had to rest about every five minutes. In the afternoon they
reached three huts, and in one of them was a kayak containing something
like sawdust. It was blue-moulded and tasteless, but it was believed to
be fish. As they found nothing more, they ate it, and soon after they
had an attack of dysentery. They stayed in the hut all day, and on the
21st found themselves too weak to move farther.

On the 22nd October they heard a noise outside, and Nindemann, when he
looked through a crack in the door, saw something move, and thought it
was a reindeer. He took down the rifle and was moving to the door when
it opened, and at the entrance stood a man. Seeing Nindemann with the
rifle, he expected to be shot, and immediately fell on his knees and
began to supplicate. Nindemann threw the rifle down and beckoned eagerly
to the man to come in. After some hesitation, the stranger entered, and
the two men, anxious to be friendly, offered him some of the fish. He
shook his head, and made signs that it was not fit to eat. Nindemann and
Noros went out, and found that the man had come in a sleigh with
reindeer; but there was nothing to eat. He gave Nindemann a pair of
deer-skin boots and a deer-skin, and in return Nindemann gave him a
shirt. The man made signs that he would require to go, and held up three
or four fingers to indicate that he would return. Whether he meant in
three or four hours, or three or four days, they could not tell.

About 6 p.m. the man returned with two others, and brought a frozen fish
which he skinned and sliced. They also brought some deer-skin coats and
boots for them, and then made signs that Nindemann and Noros were to go
with them. The latter made various attempts to make the natives
understand the critical condition of De Long and party, but utterly
failed. Putting Nindemann and Noros into the sleighs, they drove off
with them along the river to the westwards. They kept on their drive for
about 15 miles, when they came to a couple of deer-skin tents. Here
Nindemann and his companion received boiled venison. The natives
numbered seven men and three women. One of the women gave Nindemann
water in order that he might wash, but as he found himself unable to use
it, she took pity on him and washed his face. Again attempts were made
to make the natives understand about the party, but it was impossible to
say how far they were understood. Next day over one hundred head of deer
were harnessed to twenty-seven sleighs loaded with reindeer meat, skins,
and fish, and driven over the mountains to the southward. About the end
of the second day they came to a collection of huts, Ku Mark Surka,
where there was a great crowd of people feasting. On the following day,
the 25th October, Nindemann made another desperate attempt to make
himself understood. A model of a boat was produced, and using sticks,
Nindemann showed that the ship had masts and yards, and that it was a
steamer. He then made models of the ship’s boats. Obtaining two pieces
of ice, he showed how the ship had been crushed. He next put in each
little boat so many sticks to represent the men in each boat. He then
showed a chart of the ocean and coast-line, and tried to explain how the
boats were separated in a gale. He showed the way they had walked along
the river, and by putting his head down and closing his eyes he tried to
explain how many days the rest of the party had been left. Sometimes
they seemed to be able to follow him, but no assistance was offered.

Next day an incessant but fruitless attempt to make themselves
understood was made. On the 27th October, Nindemann could contain
himself no longer, and broke into sobs and groans. A woman in the hut
took pity on him, and began talking earnestly to one of the men, who
came to Nindemann and said something about a commandant. Late in the
evening, a tall Russian, whom Nindemann took to be the commandant,
arrived, but he understood neither English nor German. He evidently,
however, knew something of affairs, for he uttered two words,
“Jeannette,” “Americansk.” Noros, meanwhile, was in the hut writing out
an explanatory note which Nindemann and he had composed, and the Russian
picked this up and put it in his pocket, and refused to return it.

On the morning of the 28th they were taken charge of by a man who was to
take them to Bulun, where they arrived on the 29th October. Here they
saw the commandant, who turned out to be a different individual from the
one previously seen. He seemed to understand Nindemann’s signs and
pantomimes, and spoke of telegraphing. Nindemann made signs for pen,
ink, and paper, and dictated to Noros a dispatch to the American
Minister at St. Petersburg. This was taken by the commandant, who said
he would leave with it next morning.

A hut was assigned to them, and on the 2nd November, three days after
the commandant had gone off with their dispatch, they were electrified
by the arrival of Melville.

We must now leave Nindemann and Noros, and return to Melville’s party in
the whale-boat. It consisted of Melville, Danenhower, Newcomb, Cole,
Leach, Wilson, Bartlett, Lauterbach, Tong Sing, Aneguin, and Manson.

On the night of the 12th September, Melville lost sight of the other two
boats, and contrived to ride out the gale. He then ran all night of the
13th, to the west and south-west. On the morning of the 14th the boat
grounded in 2 feet of water, and there was no land in sight. By running
some distance to the east, deeper water was obtained, but it was not
until the morning of the 16th that land was sighted, consisting of two
low headlands forming the mouth of a large river. They ascended the
river and tried to effect a landing, but the shoals constantly prevented
it. Towards night a hut was seen, and they succeeded in making a landing
near it. The boat was hauled up, and a fire was kindled. The men were
scarcely able to walk. During four days of their rough passage they had
no water to drink, and their legs were terribly cramped. After working
up the river two more days, they came to a collection of huts where they
met three natives, and feasted on venison, goose, and fish. They
endeavoured to get the natives to pilot them to Bulun, but failed. Next
day they pushed on, but were forced to return to the huts. The head-man
of the village had, in the meantime, arrived, and Melville induced him
to agree to pilot the party to Bulun. They started on the 22nd
September, and on the 26th reached a village where he was informed that
it was a journey of sixteen days to Bulun. Melville insisted on being
taken there, and an attempt was made; but after struggling with the ice
and against the wind, they had to return to the village. They were given
a hut and an allowance of provisions. Melville prepared a telegram to
the Secretary of the Navy and to the American Minister at St.
Petersburg, and letters were written in several languages. The head-man
of the village undertook to send these forward.

About the 10th October there came to the village a Russian exile, who
seemed more intelligent than the others. This was the man who later fell
in with Nindemann and Noros, and who was first mistaken for the
commandant. He arranged with Melville to go to Bulun and bring reindeer
teams for the transportation of the party, as well as food and clothing.
He returned on the 29th October, when Melville had almost given him up,
and he brought the note from Nindemann and Noros. As soon as Melville
heard that De Long and his party were in need of assistance, he started
by dog-team for Bulun, which he reached on the 2nd November, as already
related.

Melville now arranged for Danenhower to take charge of the party while
he started north in search of De Long. He was absent twenty-three days,
and during that time he travelled 663 miles, but although he recovered
the log-books and other articles cached, and found several of the
records left in the huts, he failed to find the bodies. Winter had now
set in severely, and the search had to be given up.

No news had yet been heard of Chipp’s party, and it may here be
mentioned that no trace of them was ever found. It is probable that the
boat went down in the gale.

Early in the year of 1882, Melville began preparations to renew the
search in the spring. He received instructions from the American
Government to spare no expense. Food and clothing were transported from
Yakutsk to the Lena Delta, a distance of over 1500 miles. Melville had
Nindemann and Bartlett to assist him when he started for his second
search on the 16th March. On the 23rd March the bodies were found. De
Long, Dr. Ambler, and Ah Sam, the three who lived longest, were found
lying together.

Melville ascertained that the whole of this district, at certain seasons
of the year, was under water, and he therefore had the bodies removed
some distance to the south, where he had them buried on a rock about 300
or 400 feet high.

A long search was now made for Chipp and his party, but, as already
mentioned, no trace of them was found.

During 1883 the American Government appropriated the sum of 25000
dollars for the purpose of having the bodies conveyed from the Lena
Delta to America and for a further search to be made for the missing
boat. This was carried out by Lieutenant Harber, of the U.S.N.

The fate of this expedition was one of the saddest in the history of
Arctic exploration. It achieved little in the way of discovery, but yet,
as will be hereafter explained, the loss of the _Jeannette_ had an
important bearing on a future expedition which was destined to add
greatly to our knowledge of the Arctic regions.




[Illustration: CHART OF GREENLAND AND ELLESMERE ISLAND.]




                               CHAPTER IX
                     GREELY’S EXPEDITION (1881−84)


Lieutenant Weyprecht, of the Austro-Hungarian Expedition, at the meeting
of the German Scientific and Medical Association, at Gratz, in September
1875, presented a plea for systematic Polar exploration and research.

A Commission, appointed by Prince Bismarck to consider the question,
strongly commended the plan to the Bundesrath and to all interested
nations.

The Turko-Russian War delayed the question until 1879, when an
International Polar Conference met at Hamburg in October. At this
Conference twelve stations were agreed upon, one of which was to be in
the Archipelago of North America.

The United States did not at first take any action in the matter, but
ultimately they decided that the Signal Service should form a Polar
station at Lady Franklin Bay, and carry out the programme outlined by
the Hamburg Polar Conference.

A sum of 25000 dollars was appropriated for the expedition, and
Lieutenant Greely was appointed to the command. He was instructed to
establish the station near Lady Franklin Bay and contiguous to the
coal-seam discovered by the English Expedition of 1875. The steamer on
arrival at the station was to discharge her cargo and then return to St.
John’s, Newfoundland. Lieutenant Greely was also instructed that it was
contemplated that the station would be visited in 1882 and in 1883 by a
steamer, sailing, or other vessel, by which supplies as would be deemed
needful would be sent. In case the vessel was unable to reach the
station in 1882, she was to cache a portion of her supplies at the most
northerly point attained on the east coast of Grinnell Land. In case no
vessel reached the station in 1882, the vessel sent in 1883 was to
remain in Smith Sound until there was danger of its closing by ice, and,
on leaving, was to land all her supplies and a party at Littleton
Island. This party was to be prepared for a winter’s stay, and was to be
instructed to send sledge-parties up the east side of Grinnell Land to
meet Greely’s party.

If not visited in 1882, Lieutenant Greely was to abandon his station not
later than 1st September 1883, and to retreat southward by boat,
following closely the east coast of Grinnell Land until the relieving
vessel was met or Littleton Island reached.

The arrangements promised in these instructions to Greely are of great
importance in the light of subsequent events.

The steamer _Proteus_ was selected to convey the party to Lady Franklin
Bay. She was a barkentine-rigged steamer of oak with two compound
engines, 110 horse-power, 467 tons register, had an iron-armed prow, and
was sheathed with iron-wood from above the water-line to below the turn
of the bilge. Her screw was self-lifting, she had spare rudder and
propeller, and was in every respect suitable for ice-navigation. The
charter of this vessel consumed over ¾ of the appropriation, leaving
less than 6000 dollars for the special outfit of the party.

The master of the _Proteus_, Richard Pike, had for many years been
engaged in the seal fishery of the Labrador ice, and was one of the most
experienced captains and ice-navigators of Newfoundland.

Greely’s party, numbering twenty-three men in all, left St. John’s,
Newfoundland, on 7th July 1881. Lieutenant Kislingbury was the second in
command, and Lieutenant Lockwood was third. Dr. Pavy, the surgeon of the
expedition, had spent the preceding year in Greenland, and joined the
party at Godhavn.

Gales and thick weather delayed the _Proteus_, and the island of Disco,
at Godhavn, was not reached until the 15th July. Twelve dogs with a
supply of dog-food were purchased here, and the _Proteus_ again sailed
on 21st July. Some more dogs with food and other supplies were obtained
at Ritenbenk, and a considerable number of sea-birds were shot and hung
up in the rigging to dry. At Upernavik two Eskimo were engaged: Thorlip
Frederik Christiansen, aged thirty-five, and Jens Edward, aged
thirty-eight.

From the Berry Islands a direct course was laid for Cape York, which was
sighted on the 31st July. Melville Bay had been found almost clear of
ice, and was crossed in the remarkably short period of thirty-six hours.

The Carey Islands were reached on the 1st of August, and the cairn
erected by Sir George Nares in 1875, and also the dépôt of 3600 rations,
were examined. On the whole, the dépôt was still in good condition.

A quantity of coal was landed on the extreme south-western point of
Littleton Island, and the mail landed by Sir Allen Young for the English
Expedition was discovered at the extreme northern end of the west coast.

To the northward from Littleton Island the sea was entirely free from
ice, and Greely decided not to touch at Cape Sabine, but to shape a
course for Cape Hawks. The dépôt left here by the English was visited,
and, with the exception of a portion of the bread, was found to be in
good condition. As Greely was short of boats, he took on with him the
English jolly-boat.

The cairn on Washington Irving Island was searched, and the record of
Nares was taken, and a copy left with a new record giving a brief
account of the expedition to date. Near Cape Frazer the first
palæocrystic floeberg was seen. A cache of 200 lb. of meat and 280 lb.
of bread was left at Carl Ritter Bay. Greely points out that the
indentation here is so slight, and the curve so great, that it is a
bight rather than a bay. The south-eastern part of Lady Franklin Bay was
reached on the 4th August, but here a heavy pack was met, and it was not
until the 11th that the _Proteus_ entered Discovery Harbour.

On entering the harbour, eleven musk-oxen were seen. They were
immediately followed, and all were shot. It was found that the _Proteus_
could not safely approach Watercourse Bay, and Greely therefore decided
to make his station on the shore of Discovery Harbour, near the quarters
of the English Expedition.

The site for a house was soon chosen, and the unloading of the vessel
was proceeded with. The station was named “Conger,” after Senator
Conger, who had interested himself specially in behalf of the
expedition. In addition to the general supplies, 130 tons of coal were
landed.

Greely records that, on the 25th August, Lieutenant Kislingbury, the
second in command, spent the day on the _Proteus_, and next day,
dissatisfied with the expeditionary regulations, requested that he be
relieved from duty with the expedition. His request was granted, and he
was ordered to report himself to the Chief Signal Officer on his return
to the States. However, just as Lieutenant Kislingbury was leaving the
station, the _Proteus_ got under way, and he was obliged to go back to
Conger. He did not afterwards return to duty as an officer. Greely gives
no explanation of the matter, but Lockwood in his diary states that one
of the annoyances complained of by Kislingbury was the rule that
officers should rise in the morning with the men.

A wooden house was constructed, 60 by 17 feet. Its walls were double,
the two coverings of ½-inch boards being separated by an air-space of
about a foot. The roof was only a single board thick, but was covered
(like the sides) with tar-paper. The house had also a ceiling, and the
space between this and the roof afforded an excellent storage-place for
articles which would have been injured by exposure. The interior of the
house was divided into three rooms, one 17 by 15 feet for the officers,
another 8 by 17 feet served partly as the cook’s kitchen and partly as
an entry, and the third room was used by the men. The house was
conveniently and pleasantly situated within 30 yards of the water’s
edge, on a small tableland between two brooks, which for a few months in
the year ran into the sea. The coal-mine was 4 miles distant, and could
be reached through a valley to the eastward.

The house had not been quite finished when field-work commenced. Greely
expresses the view that autumn sledging should be carefully planned,
attempted with great caution, and never pushed to great distances. He
states that in autumn temperatures the travelling-gear of a man once
wet, the chances of dangerous frost-bites and disaster increase.

On 30th August Dr. Pavy and Sergeant Rice, the photographer of the
expedition, were sent north as far as practicable towards Cape Joseph
Henry. They were to examine the condition of the English dépôt at
Lincoln Bay, and report on the practicability of autumn and spring
travelling by sledge along the Grinnell Land coast. They travelled with
packs, carrying a dog-tent, blankets, and provisions to last them as far
as the English dépôt, where their supplies could be renewed.

The dépôt at Lincoln Bay was missed in going north, and the party pushed
on to Cape Union before returning south. Here a channel of open water, 2
miles wide, was seen to stretch as far northward as the eye could reach.
In returning, the dépôt at Lincoln Bay was discovered, and was found to
be in bad order. Greely recommends that water-tight cases of very light
tin should be used in protecting stores thus cached.

Sergeant Rice, who had broken through the young ice on his way north,
was attacked on the way south by acute rheumatism. In spite of the
severe pain, he made a determined attempt to walk to the station, but
was ultimately forced to yield. The doctor made him as comfortable as
possible in the tent, and proceeded to Conger for assistance. A party of
men with a sledge and improvised stretcher was immediately dispatched,
and after considerable difficulty Rice was conveyed to the station. He
rapidly recovered, and ten days later was again in the field.

During Dr. Pavy’s absence, Greely established a large supply dépôt near
Cape Beechy. On 7th September, Greely visited the Bellows, a valley
about 15 miles from the station. Ten eider ducks were obtained, and nine
out of fourteen musk-cattle were killed.

Dr. Pavy, with Private Whisler and Eskimo Jens, left the station on 2nd
October to proceed to Cape Joseph Henry and lay out along the Grinnell
Land coast such dépôts of provisions as would facilitate spring travel
in that direction. A point near Mount Parry was ultimately reached, and
here 150 lb. of pemmican and 50 lb. bread were cached. The open
condition of the floe-ice in Robeson Channel prevented further advance.
Conger was again reached on the 9th.

On the 10th October, Lockwood established a small dépôt near Cape Baird.
On the 13th September a large pack of wolves made their appearance, and
for some time they were a source of danger. Greely decided to attempt to
poison them, and ultimately succeeded in poisoning four. The rest then
disappeared for that season.

On 17th September the first birthday occurred, and the occasion was
taken to inaugurate a practice, which was afterwards adhered to at
Conger, of exempting the man from duty and of allowing him to select the
dinner.

The temperature fell below zero on the 20th September, which Greely
believed was the earliest date on record. The first star at midnight was
seen on 9th September, and so extremely rapid is the approach of
darkness in all very high latitudes that on the 8th October lamps had to
be used throughout the twenty-four hours, except for an hour at midday.

Scientific observations were conducted regularly and very carefully at
Conger during the whole stay of the expedition. Some idea of the amount
of labour involved may be conveyed by the statement that the number of
observations recorded daily was as follows: Meteorological, 234; tidal,
28; magnetical, 264—aggregating 526 daily. On what were called
term-days the number of magnetical observations was increased to over
1200. Pendulum, time, and sound experiments were also made.

As regards food-supply, the expedition was fortunate in being able to
obtain sufficient musk-meat to enable each man to have 1 lb. daily
during two years at Conger. Condensed milk, butter, and oatmeal had been
taken in large quantities, and there was a liberal supply of cheese,
macaroni, and condensed eggs. They had also a large amount of fruits and
vegetables. Tomatoes were found to be the best vegetable, and apples and
peaches were considered the best fruits. One ounce of limejuice was
issued to each man daily.

Even after the disappearance of the sun, it was decided to continue
sledging work. On 23rd October, Lockwood and three men were sent to
Dépôt “B,” at Cape Beechy, to construct a large commodious snow-house
for the use of the sledge-parties. About 4 cwt. of coal from Watercourse
Mine was taken as fuel to be used in a small stove. At Dépôt “A,” at
Cape Murchison, about 3000 lb. of coal, also from the mine, was
accumulated.

On 3rd November, Lockwood with seven men left the station to attempt to
cross Robeson Channel from Cape Beechy. Next day Dr. Pavy, Lieutenant
Kislingbury, Sergeant Rice, and Eskimo Jens, with two dog-sledges, left
to add stores to the dépôt in Wrangel Bay. This latter party succeeded
in adding a small quantity of stores to the dépôt, but Lockwood was
unsuccessful in his attempt to cross Robeson Channel, owing to the open
condition of the straits.

The results of these winter journeys satisfied Greely that it was not
advisable to send sledge-parties to any considerable distance after the
sun has left or before its return. The sun was last seen at the station
on 14th October, and again reappeared on 28th February, 137 days later.
Very dark nights were, however, uncommon, and except on a few cloudy and
stormy days they were never prevented by darkness from taking their
regular exercise.

During October a wall of ice, 6 feet high, was constructed some 3 feet
from the house, and was rendered windproof by a coating of wet snow. The
space between the house and the wall was later filled in with loose, dry
snow, which formed an excellent protection.

As regards clothing, Greely came to the conclusion that for ordinary use
first-class woollen under-garments, with heavy woollen clothing, are all
that is essential in Arctic service.

In December a number of men gave indications of being mentally affected
by the continual darkness. The Eskimo were extremely depressed, and on
the 13th, Jens Edward disappeared without eating his breakfast, or even
taking his seal-skin mittens. A search was made, and he was discovered
near Cape Murchison, travelling rapidly northward. He returned to the
station without objection, and in time recovered his spirits.

The lowest temperature during the winter occurred on 3rd February 1882.
The minimum was −62.2°, the maximum −44.1° F. The protective influence
of a snow-hut was shown by the fact that after a mean temperature below
−50° for five consecutive days, the thermometer inside read −17°. Even
in these extremely low temperatures some hunting was done. On 16th
February the mercurial thermometers thawed out, after having been frozen
for sixteen days.

Preparations for spring sledging were actively commenced early in
February. The saddler, the tinman, the carpenters and others were kept
busy with sledges, boat, cooking-lamps, sleeping-bags, foot-gear, etc.

Of twenty-seven dogs purchased in Greenland only twelve were living at
the end of 1881. In addition to these twelve there were three private
dogs. This allowed two teams. As regards sledges, Greely decided to use
the Hudson Bay pattern for the supporting sledges on the North Greenland
coast. This form of sledge is suitable for the deep snow experienced by
Lieutenant Beaumont. Light strips of ash were fastened to the bottom on
each side to serve as runners, and it was found necessary to shod these
with steel. Greely afterwards recommended future explorers to use Hunt’s
pattern of the St. Michael’s sledge, with the addition of steel runners
so arranged as to be attached or detached at pleasure. The Hudson Bay
sledges, with lashings and coverings complete, weighed only 35 lb. The
Greenland sledge was adopted as the pattern for the dog-sledge. The
lashings of this sledge being of seal-skin permit rough handling without
the sledge being materially injured. Its only drawback is the liability
of the runners to split longitudinally through the row of holes bored to
receive the lashings. Greely strengthened the upstanders and runners of
his sledges by setting in plates of wrought iron. The pine slats
commonly in use in Greenland were replaced by the best American ash,
hickory, or oak. The weight of the sledge used was 105 lb.

The sledging ration in 1882 was 39 oz., but it was increased in 1883 to
about 42 oz., consisting of 22 oz. meat, 2 of butter, 4 of vegetables,
10 of bread, 2 of sugar, ½ oz. of milk, 1 oz. of tea and chocolate, salt
¼ and pepper 1/20 of an oz. The meat consisted of pemmican, bacon,
musk-meat, canned sausage, and corned beef. Limejuice pemmican was found
to be very unpalatable, and was only eaten under press of hunger.
Greely’s parties generally complained that chocolate taken in the field
made them thirsty. No rum was ever sent as a sledge-ration, but it was
furnished as medicine to be used under extraordinary occasions at the
discretion of the officer in charge. The alcohol allowance of fuel for a
party of three or four, at first 5 oz., was increased to 6 oz., as being
the smallest amount on which the food could be cooked. As the result of
his experience, Greely recommended that the vegetable-ration should be 3
oz. preserved potatoes, and that the other ounce should be replaced by
half an ounce each of milk and of extract of beef. Of the meat, only
half should be of pemmican, the balance to be divided between bacon and
fresh meat; the latter to be sliced fine and frozen. In case fresh meat
cannot be obtained, Greely recommended that of the 11 oz. meat, 4 oz.
should consist of bacon and the balance of sausage and canned fresh
meat. The limejuice was frozen into small squares, each of which
represented a ration. It thaws at a temperature of 14° F.

Greely recommends alcohol of great strength for fuel in the field, and
that it should be carried in tightly sealed vessels of about 2 gallons.
This enables caches to be frequently made for the return journey. The
lamp and all the cooking vessels were fireproof, made as far as
practicable of single pieces of heavy tin without solder. A lamp with
five wicks was used, and at a temperature of −20° melted enough snow in
sixteen minutes to produce 2½ quarts of water, and in ten minutes more,
raised it to the boiling-point. At the same time, in an open vessel,
there was melted 1½ quart of water. The amount of alcohol expended was 4
oz.

On 19th February 1882, Lieutenant Lockwood with two men and a dog-sledge
left the station to visit Dépôt “B,” near Cape Beechy, and to examine
the ice in Robeson Channel with a view of selecting the best route to be
followed in a later trip to Thank-God Harbour. The party returned on the
22nd, having found the ice favourable.

On the 1st March, Lockwood with three men set out for Thank-God Harbour.
Two other men with a second dog-team were to support him as far as
possible. The distance of 28 miles to Dépôt “B” was travelled in five
hours and twenty minutes. The night was spent in the snow-house there,
and next day the whole party set out across Robeson Channel. When the
bad ice near the shore had been crossed, the supporting sledge-party
returned. Lockwood reached the Greenland coast the same day as he left
Cape Beechy. On the 3rd March he travelled south along the coast, and
arrived at the observatory above Thank-God Harbour, occupied by Bessels
and Bryan in 1871−72. The sides and one end of this building were still
standing. Six 45 lb. cans of pemmican, 35 lb. of farina, a half-barrel
of limejuice, a barrel of yellow corn-meal, and 10 barrels of hard bread
were found in the building, in fairly good condition. There were also
hatchets, saws, shovels, lead, shot, gunpowder, and cartridges for rifle
and pistol.

On the 5th March, Lockwood proceeded to Cape Sumner over the route
followed by Captain Hall in 1870. During the whole of this day the
temperature remained below −50°, and the party were compelled to
continually keep the warm hand to the face in order to prevent it from
freezing. At night a deep snow-drift was found in a small ravine, and a
hole was dug in this and a house formed by using the tent and poles for
a roof. Next day Newman Bay was reached in a snowstorm, and shelter had
to be taken in a house made in a snow-bank, where they had to remain
until the morning of the 9th. Here they had an experience they were not
likely to forget. Lockwood and Jewell had used up or had lost their
stock of matches. Brainard had some, but they seemed damp and would not
light. They were 60 miles from the station, and there was a temperature
of freezing mercury outside. Without fire they could not obtain water,
and without water they could not live long. The matches were tried again
and again, but only gave a flicker and went out. At last Jewell produced
a love-letter which had been carefully kept in an inside garment, and
holding a piece to the next match it caught the flame, and with this the
alcohol-lamp was at once lighted. The cause of the matches not lighting
eventually proved to be the vitiated, damp atmosphere of the hut.

Eight hours’ travelling on the 9th brought the party to Boat Camp, where
the canvas and whale-boats were found in very much the same condition
described by the English. From this camp, Cape Sumner was readied in an
hour and a half, and the tent pitched. Here Lockwood decided to leave
the tent, sleeping-bag, and some other articles of use for further
exploration, and to return to Conger. The party started on the 10th in a
temperature of −41°, and crossed Robeson Channel to Dépôt “B” in 12½
hours.

On 5th March, Dr. Pavy, with two men and a dog-sledge, was sent to
convey a sledge-load of provisions to as northerly a point on the
Greenland coast as could be reached in one day’s march from Cape Beechy.
They reached the Greenland coast, and cached the supplies at a point
called the “Gap.” They returned to Conger on the 9th.

On the 13th March, Sergeant Brainard, with seven men, was ordered to
take a small boat with such additional supplies as could be hauled, to
the dépôt near Cape Sumner. The party left the snow-house near Cape
Beechy on 15th March, in a temperature of −50.5°. The Greenland coast
was reached on the 17th, after very severe labour. On the way one man
had to be sent back to Dépôt “B.” Brainard reported that he placed the
boat beside a huge rock, and fastened her down securely with boxes,
rocks, etc., first placing hard bread, medical knapsack, etc., under
her, to prevent them from being blown away. The channel was then
recrossed, and Dépôt “B” reached on the 19th, and Conger on the 20th
March.

On 19th March, Dr. Pavy, Sergeant Rice, and Eskimo Jens, with a
dog-team, were sent north in an attempt to reach land to the northward
of Cape Joseph Henry. Greely states that Pavy was confident that land
would eventually be discovered in that direction. Sergeant Jewell and
Eskimo Christiansen were detached as a supporting party as far as
Lincoln Bay. Dr. Pavy on reaching the dépôt previously formed by him
near Mount Parry found that a bear had eaten 70 lb. of the pemmican.

At Cape Union the party were storm-stayed for twenty-two hours. Two
trips had to be made back to Lincoln Bay to bring north supplies. On the
31st March they left Lincoln Bay with the last load, but when near Cape
Union the right runner of the sledge broke longitudinally through the
lashing-holes. Rice offered to return to Conger for a new runner, and
started at once with Eskimo Jens. They made the journey to Dépôt “B” in
one march, but the Eskimo was completely exhausted.

The sledge having been repaired, the party finally left Lincoln Bay on
the 6th April, and reached the _Alert’s_ winter quarters on the 11th.
Beneath the large stone that covers the grave of Petersen they found
that a hare had taken up its residence. The signal flag-staff, with
attached halliards, at Cape Sheridan, was still standing in as firm a
condition as when erected in 1875.

Instead of crossing the Feilden Peninsula, Dr. Pavy decided, on account
of the bare ground in some places, to follow the coast to Cape Joseph
Henry. This decision, though it seemed wise at the time, probably proved
fatal to the success of the journey. During the 18th and 19th April a
severe storm confined them to their tent. During the 20th and 21st they
succeeded in transporting their stores to a point on the polar pack
about 4 miles north of Cape Joseph Henry. On the 21st another storm was
experienced, which continued as a severe gale during the night. On
advancing north on the 23rd, Jens suddenly announced the presence of
water. This was found to be an open channel a mile wide, which had
probably been caused by the gale. The ice on which the party was seemed
to be in motion, and Dr. Pavy therefore decided to return to Cape Joseph
Henry. On arriving opposite the cape, open water of three-quarters of a
mile in extent was found between the ice and the land. Ultimately the
ice closed in against the shore and allowed the party to retreat in
haste, abandoning their tent, some provisions, and part of the
scientific instruments. Dr. Pavy, under the impression that Robeson
Channel was open, decided to return in haste to Conger, in case his
retreat might be cut off. The station was reached on the 2nd of May.

On the 26th April, Greely with three men started for the interior of
Grinnell Land. They entered Conybeare Bay, and discovered that it was a
large fiord, which was named “Chandler Fiord.” On reaching the head of
this they passed along the bed of a river, and at certain places could
hear the water running under the ice. Ultimately they came to a point
where the river was open, and they were forced to take to the hillside.
A short distance farther a surprise awaited them in the form of an
immense ice-bound lake, which was named “Lake Hazen.” The station at
Conger was again reached on 7th May.

The most important sledge-journey undertaken by the expedition began on
the 3rd of April, under the command of Lieutenant Lockwood. Its object
was the exploration of the North Greenland coast. The advance sledge was
to be hauled by dogs, with Eskimo Christiansen as driver, and Lockwood
was to select one man from the supporting party before their return.
This latter party consisted of twelve men, with four sledges of the
Hudson Bay pattern.

The average amount of extra clothing was 10 lb. per man. The clothing
worn was generally double suits of underclothing, three pairs of socks,
with outer ordinary wool clothing, over which a light duck suit was
worn, to keep the snow from adhering to the wool. A few only wore outer
clothing of skin. The foot-gear consisted of moccasins, and Greenland,
Labrador, and canvas boots.

The party left Dépôt “B” to cross Robeson Channel on the evening of 5th
April. The load was equal to 130 lb. to each man, and 100 lb. to each of
the dogs. Next day one man suffering from rheumatism was ordered to
return to the station; and later another man who had frozen one of his
toes was taken back to Cape Beechy by Lockwood. On the 7th the party
experienced a violent gale, which confined them to their sleeping-bags
forty-five hours.

On reaching Polaris Boat Camp, one of the Hudson Bay sledges had been so
injured by the rough ice that it was practically useless. At this camp
the wind again became very violent, blew down the tent, and one gust
lifted the dog-sledge, with its load of 200 lb., bodily from the ground.
The sledge struck one man, knocking him several yards and injuring him
severely. Two other men, owing to illness, had to be sent back from this
camp.

The party were employed until the 16th April in accumulating at Boat
Camp the stores from the other dépôts, and while this was being done
Lockwood returned to Conger for an extra set of runners, as he was
afraid that the runners of the dog-sledge might break down.

The party started from Boat Camp with 300 rations on 16th April. The
eight dogs hauled about 800 lb., and each man hauled about 217 lb. on
the second sledge. On the third and fourth sledges the men dragged about
150 lb. each. The constant weights of the dog-sledge were 243 lb., and
of the remaining sledges 375 lb.

During the first six days they had to travel over land, and after
tremendous exertions the sea-coast was again reached on 22nd April. The
party arrived at Cape Bryant on 27th April. On this journey one of
Beaumont’s caches was discovered, and the rations found were taken on to
Cape Bryant.

At this point the supporting party were sent back, and Lockwood,
Brainard, and Christiansen, with rations for twenty-five days, set out
on 29th April towards their farthest north. The weight carried amounted
to about 783 lb., and consisted of rations 227 lb., dog-pemmican 300
lb., equipments 176 lb., and dog-sledge 80 lb.

A course across the fiord towards Cape May was taken, and the weather
was delightful. Sixteen miles were covered in eight hours. Next day the
snow was soft and deep, like that experienced by Beaumont, and it was
found necessary to advance with half-load and then return for the other.
Lockwood now gave up the idea of visiting Cape May, and directed his
course towards Cape Britannia. After this hard work Lockwood and
Brainard could not sleep well, but the Eskimo invariably snored two
minutes after composing himself to rest. On the 2nd May they came to a
crack in the ice, and had to follow it several hundred yards before they
could cross it. Thinking this would be a good chance to get a deep-sea
sounding, Lockwood ran out all the line he had, but did not reach
bottom. He then attached coils of seal-thongs, then some rope, and
finally the dog-whip, but still did not reach bottom at 820 feet. After
hesitating whether he would also use the dog-traces, they began to pull
up the line, and had drawn out the whip, when the rope broke, and
everything below was lost. All further attempts at sounding were thus
prevented.

Cape Britannia was reached on 4th May. This was the _Ultima Thule_ of
Beaumont’s hopes, and quite as far as Greely expected Lockwood to reach.
A cairn was built, and in it was deposited a record, five days’ rations,
three days’ dog-food, the extra sledge-runner, shelter-tent, little
lamp, and the snow-shoes. Lockwood and Brainard ascended to the top of
the cape, 1950 feet high, where a cairn was built and a record
deposited. The latitude was found to be 82° 44′.

Rounding Cape Frederick next day, they camped opposite Nordenskjöld
Inlet. A tidal-crack was here again met with. On the 6th May, Mascart
Inlet was reached, after a ten hours’ march which exhausted both men and
dogs. Numerous signs of animal-life were seen here; a hare was captured,
and traces of foxes, lemmings, bears, and musk-oxen were observed.

On the 7th May, Low Point was reached. The latitude of this place is the
same as Cape Columbia, the most northern point of Grinnell Land. On the
10th May, De Long Fiord was crossed, and cairns constructed on the
northern and southern points. The party camped on Mary Murray Island, in
latitude 83° 19′, and were here delayed 63½ hours by a violent gale. A
lemming was captured by the dogs at this camp.

Lockwood Island was reached on the 13th of May, and England’s record was
at last broken. The honours of the farthest north had been held by
England for three centuries. The highest latitude reached by Lockwood
was 83° 24′, against Markham’s 83° 20′ 26″.

From the summit of the island, which was ascended by Lockwood and
Brainard, could be seen a rocky headland, Cape Kane, to the north, and
still some distance beyond, another, Cape Washington. On Lockwood Island
numerous traces of foxes, lemmings, hares, and ptarmigan were seen. On
the summit, Lockwood left a record in a small tin box under a few small
stones, as no large ones could be found.

The return journey was commenced on the evening of the 16th May, and
Cape Bryant was reached in nine marches. After leaving Cape Britannia,
where they again obtained the snow-shoes, deep snow was met, and
Lockwood and Brainard used the shoes for the first time, and found
immense relief. Both bitterly regretted they had not used them going
north.

From Cape Bryant to Polaris Boat Camp was passed over in six marches.
Here three of the supporting party awaited their return. From this camp
the whole party crossed Robeson Channel to Cape Beechy in fourteen hours
in face of a violent snowstorm. Conger was reached on 1st June, after an
absence of sixty days.

The mean temperature during the outward part of this journey was below
zero. The distance of 276 miles entailed travel of 470 miles. Lockwood
personally during the sixty days covered 1070 miles in forty-six
marches. His discoveries extended 95 miles along the North Greenland
coast beyond the farthest point seen by Beaumont.

The winter at Conger had been of great severity, the mean temperature
for the 131 days without the sun being −32.3°.

On 19th May 1882, Greely visited the coal-mine. He found the seam 200
yards long and extending 8 feet above the level of the creek. An immense
quantity of coal could be easily mined.

On 24th June, Greely with four men left for the interior of Grinnell
Land, through Black Rock Vale. A two-wheeled wagon was used to carry the
provisions, etc. This valley was entirely barren of snow, and in most
places was covered with a comparatively luxuriant vegetation. Grasses or
sedges 10 or 12 inches in height were frequently noticed on the banks of
a river. The temperature during the journey remained extremely high. On
one occasion the thermometer reached 74° F. in the shade, and as many as
fifty butterflies were seen in one day!

Beyond this valley, a system of small lakes, draining from one into
another, was found to finally discharge into Lake Hazen. Numerous birds
and herds of musk-oxen were met with. Traces of Eskimo were discovered
in many places both in the form of summer encampments and permanent
winter huts. These must have been inhabited within a comparatively
recent period. From the various relics found, Greely formed the opinion
that these Eskimo had dogs, sledges, arrows, and skinning-knives, and
that they fed on musk-oxen, seals, hares, and occasionally fish.

After travelling over 100 miles from Conger, the wagon broke down
completely, and had to be abandoned. The remainder of the journey was
made with knapsacks. Skirting the south shore of Lake Hazen until its
termination was reached, they ascended a river which entered the lake.
One of the men became exhausted carrying a heavy load, and had to be
sent back. Near the source of the river Greely ascended a mountain with
great difficulty. The height was ascertained to be 4500 feet above
sea−level, and Greely believed it to be the highest mountain in Grinnell
Land. He named it “Mount Arthur.” It is the crest of the land, and the
farther side drains to the western sea.

They now started on their return journey, and reached Conger on 10th
July. The journey entailed an aggregate of 352 miles’ travel in nineteen
marches—an average of 17½ miles, which was a remarkably good
performance over rough country.

A ship was anxiously expected in either July or August, but these months
passed without it making an appearance.

The first serious breach of discipline took place on 28th August. The
engineer having stolen some of the fuel-alcohol, was found drunk. About
the beginning of October a bear visited Conger on several occasions, and
Greely thought it necessary to require the men to obtain authority for
any extended absence from the station. In connection with this order,
Sergeant Lynn was reduced to the ranks for having made a “disrespectful
remark.”

From 14th to 19th November there was a great magnetic storm, which was
general throughout the world. During this time the auroral displays were
magnificent, and on the 17th the magnetic needle ranged in variation
considerably over 19°.

The second winter passed, and left the party in much better health and
spirits than had been anticipated. There had been an abundance of fresh
meat, and no scurvy made its appearance.

The spring work of 1883 was to be a renewal of explorations in North
Greenland. Lockwood left Conger for his preliminary journey on 10th
March, with five men and dog-teams. During an absence of seven days he
accumulated about 1300 lb. of field-supplies near Cape Sumner.

He started on his final journey northwards on 27th March. He was
instructed to return to Polaris Boat Camp not later than 31st May. The
party left thoroughly equipped, and had the former year’s experience in
their favour. The journey to Black Horn Cliffs from Conger was made in
six days, against twenty-two days in 1882. Here, however, open water was
met, and the party had to return. They reached Conger on the 12th of
April.

In discussing this journey, Greely expresses his belief in an open Polar
Sea which could only be entered by a ship in extremely favourable years
by the Spitzbergen route. The huge floebergs of the north are given off
by glacial lands in the vicinity of the North Pole, according to
Greely’s view. The discoveries of Nansen prove the non-existence of an
open Polar Sea, and Peary claims to have discovered that the source of
the floebergs is in the glaciers of the extreme north of Greenland.

On the 25th of April, Lockwood with Brainard and Christiansen left
Conger to attempt to cross Grinnell Land to the western ocean. They had
a team of the best ten dogs, and provisions to last thirty-one days. A
supporting sledge was to accompany them for two marches. Lockwood’s
fourth camp was situated about 67 miles from Conger. Lieutenant Archer
in 1876, with an eight-man sledge, took fourteen days to do the same
distance. This illustrates the great difference between sledging with
dogs and with men.

From Archer Fiord, Lockwood passed along the Ella Valley to the base of
a glacier 150 feet above the sea. The glacier stretched from side to
side of the valley, and was found impassable. Lockwood next decided to
try the route _via_ Beatrix Bay. From the head of this bay they passed
along a valley to its termination, and then had to turn off to the north
up a steep rocky ravine. Here the large sledge had to be left, and a
small one brought specially for land-travelling was afterwards used.
From this camp they started for Musk-ox Valley on 8th May. The following
day’s march carried them to the apparent end of the valley, and they
then entered a cañon which seemed to end in a glacier 8 or 10 ten miles
distant; but as no other route seemed possible it was followed. This
cañon took them into a broad valley with a lake in its centre. The wall
of a glacier apparently rose all along the south side of the valley, and
the country behind seemed one continuous glacial surface. Travelling in
a south-west direction, they found the ice-capped land presented to
their view a vertical face of solid ice from 125 feet to 200 feet in
height. This wall of ice ran across the country in such a manner that
Lockwood named it “The Chinese Wall Glacier,” but later it was
designated Mer de Glace Agassiz. The next march brought them to the
watershed of Grinnell Land. They now descended a narrow gorge bounded on
either side by towering mountains, and finally reached a narrow valley
1000 feet lower down. Passing along this valley, and still rapidly
descending, they reached the head of a fiord where the water was salt.
This was named “Greely Fiord.” Proceeding about 26 miles down the fiord,
they reached their farthest on 13th May, and camped in a heavy
snowstorm. By fasting nineteen hours, they were enabled to remain here
until the storm abated.

The return journey had to be made on short rations. This party travelled
437 miles during their month’s absence.

The work of exploration was now practically completed, and preparations
for the contingency of a retreat southward began to receive serious
attention. Greely had already established a large dépôt of provisions at
Cape Baird, on the south side of Archer Fiord, and 12 miles from Conger.
This work was begun as early as the 1st February. Dr. Pavy protested
against the work as entailing unnecessary exposure, and some warm words
evidently passed between the doctor and Greely. The latter makes the
charge that this was the first of a series by which Dr. Pavy opposed all
the work initiated during 1883. The doctor’s objection was no doubt to
the work being done during the coldest month of the year. Greely takes
great credit for establishing this dépôt 12 miles from the station, but
it is only just to the doctor to state that Lockwood in his diary
mentions the fact that as early as March 1883 Dr. Pavy and two others of
the party were in favour of abandoning all further explorations, and
applying their efforts to depositing provisions down the straits to
secure their safe retreat in boats in August and September. No mention
of this fact is made by Greely. He states that the correspondence
between them formed part of his official report, but has no place in his
book.

Lockwood also states that, on his return from his North Greenland
journey of 1883, Lieutenant Kislingbury’s only thought seemed to be that
a sledge-party should be sent down to Littleton Island to have the ship
leave her supplies at Cape Sabine instead of at the island, and that in
expressing this view Kislingbury merely reflected the latest opinion of
the doctor.

The reader may be left to judge what effect it would have had on the
ultimate fate of the party had these ideas been carried out.

In order further to insure a safe retreat, Greely decided to bring from
Thank-God Harbour the English ice-boat left there by Beaumont in 1876.
This boat was brought across the channel by twelve men, who made the
trip of 90 miles in six days in a mean temperature of −21°.

On 1st June, Greely being dissatisfied with the manner in which Dr. Pavy
had kept the specimens of natural history and the notes concerning them,
transferred the work to Lockwood. On the 19th July the bitter feeling
between Greely and Dr. Pavy was aggravated by the latter declining to
renew his contract, which expired on the 20th July, and refusing to give
up his diary. As Dr. Pavy insisted that he was out of service and
refused to obey orders, Greely thought it necessary to place him under
arrest, with permission to take such exercise as was necessary within a
mile of the station.

All preparations for the retreat having been completed by 29th July, an
order was issued announcing that Conger would be deserted on 8th August
if no vessel should arrive. All private property was to be left behind,
except 8 lb. of baggage for each man and 16 lb. for each officer.

The station was abandoned on 9th August, the weather conditions on the
8th not being favourable. The dogs were left behind, and several barrels
of seal-blubber, pork, beef, and bread were opened, so that they might
maintain life for several months in case the party might be compelled to
return to Conger. Three tons of coal remained, and a sufficient quantity
of provisions to have supplied scant army rations for one year, with the
exception of flour, sugar, vegetables, milk, and butter. The entire
collection of natural history specimens and the original records of the
expedition were left at Conger.

Cape Baird was reached on 10th August. Here the caches were taken up,
and then the launch, with three boats in tow, was steered down Kennedy
Channel. The whole party of twenty-five were then in good health, and
little could they dream of the horrors they were to undergo.

On the 12th August, Sergeant Cross, the engineer, was found to be under
the influence of liquor. He had allowed the launch to ground on the
falling tide. On this date Carl Ritter Bay was reached, and the cache
made by Greely on his way north was taken up. On the 13th their progress
was arrested by an enormous floeberg, 60 feet in height above the water,
which had grounded 1 mile from the shore, and between it and the shore
was an unbroken floe. A later examination of the floeberg discovered
that it had split and formed a narrow cleft about 12 feet wide and over
100 yards long. Into this narrow passage, with walls of ice about 60
feet high on either side, the boats were steered, and the dangerous run
was made without accident.

On the 15th August, Cross was again intoxicated, and Greely found it
necessary to put Private Frederick permanently in charge of the engine.
On the 21st August the boats were caught between the moving pack and an
ice-foot 10 feet high, and rather severely nipped. The English cache at
Cape Collinson, consisting of 240 rations of meat, salt, pepper,
onion-powder and fuel, and 120 rations of bread, was taken up on 22nd
August. Cape Hawks was reached on 26th August. Here it was found that
the record left on the northward journey had been untouched. This proved
that no vessel had reached this point either in 1882 or 1883, and Greely
began to see that the position of his party was critical. He calculated
that on this date he had still sixty days’ provisions, except sugar. The
English dépôt left here was also found. The bread was very mouldy, but
all that was eatable was taken, and the barrels were broken up for
steaming purposes.

Cape Hawks was left on the afternoon of 26th August, and on the same day
they became beset. The temperature was now low, and young ice formed
rapidly. The Eskimo killed a seal on 1st September, and another on the
2nd.

On 3rd September, Greely took the wise course of calling together the
officers and two of the sergeants and pointing out to them the necessity
of hearty and united action. He expressed a desire for the frankest
opinion of each one as to what would be the wisest measures to take.
Various opinions were expressed, but Greely decided to make no immediate
movement.

Meanwhile they slowly drifted southwards. A tepee after the Indian style
was made of the sails, and could accommodate eighteen men. The ice-boat
with a canvas shelter could hold nine. On 6th September they were only 3
miles from Bache Island, and about 17 from Cape Sabine. On the 10th
September the launch was abandoned, and a start was made for the land
with two boats dragged on sledges. On the 12th one of the two boats had
to be left, as it was feared that it would break down the sledge. On
this date the last of the sugar was used. A high south-west wind sprang
up on the 14th, and in three hours drove the party farther north than
they had travelled south in three days. This gave rise to much
disappointment, and Greely’s troubles were aggravated by the criticisms
of Dr. Pavy. On the 15th the latitude was found to be 1 mile farther
north than where the launch was abandoned. On the 16th they were
directly north of Littleton Island, at a distance of 30 miles from Cairn
Point, Greenland, and 19 miles from Cape Sabine. Greely now held the
view that the next start should be for the Greenland coast, and although
he received little support from the officers, he was prepared to avail
himself of any chance of moving in that direction. Unfortunately, next
day it was found that they had drifted 3 miles to the west, and this
changed Greely’s intention of attempting to reach the Greenland coast.
On the 18th land seemed comparatively near, but on the 19th a south-west
gale sprang up, and they were drifted far to the east again. Greely now
held a conference with the officers and two of the sergeants, and
expressed the opinion that everything but 2000 lb. selected baggage
should be abandoned, and with twenty days’ rations the party should
start across the pack for the Greenland shore, about 23 miles distant.
The sergeants were inclined to favour Greely’s plan, but the others
recommended delay. Greely decided to wait till next day, but fog
prevented any move being made. The drift later set again to the west,
and on the 25th they were within 3 miles of Brevoort Island. On the 26th
a gale caused the floe, on which the party were, to break up, and it was
with great difficulty that they escaped destruction. Land to the south
of Cape Sabine was at last reached on 29th September. The retreat from
Conger involved over 400 miles’ travel by boats, and fully 100 with
sledge and boat. The condition of the party during the drift had been
wretched in the extreme. In spite of all difficulties, however, the
party reached land in fairly good health and with undiminished numbers.

On the 1st October, Rice and Jens started for Cape Sabine, taking with
them a record to deposit in the cache. They returned on the 9th October,
and brought momentous news. Three caches were found at the cape, and in
one of them a record brought back by Rice explained that the relief
steamer had been wrecked and sunk on the 23rd July 1883; that a dépôt of
some of the provisions had been made at Cape Sabine, and that a second
steamer was on her way to Littleton Island. Lieutenant Garlington, who
wrote this record, also stated that he was leaving for the eastern
shore, and that everything within the power of man would be done to
rescue Greely’s party.

On the strength of this record, Greely decided to proceed to Cape Sabine
and await the promised help. The whale-boat abandoned on the ice was
found by Rice at Payer Harbour safe and whole. On the 11th October, Rice
started for Cape Isabella to ascertain whether the second relief ship
had left supplies there. Cross, on this day, again managed to get under
the influence of liquor. Next day the whole party left their temporary
shelter to proceed to Cape Sabine, so as to avoid having to bring the
supplies from that point. The cache left by the wrecked party was
reached on the 15th, and Greely decided to take up quarters near it. On
the cache being examined, it was found that instead of 500 rations (as
mentioned in Garlington’s record) there were scarcely 100. In this
record the statement was also made that a boat had been left at Cape
Isabella. On the 15th, Rice returned and stated that no boat could be
found, and that only 144 lb. English meat was cached there. On the 17th
the temperature was 6° below zero, and the party had practically no
shelter. It was decided to build a stone house 25 feet by 18. Owing to
the scarcity of rocks, the walls were made only 3 feet high, and a boat
was placed on the top to form a roof. When sitting in their bags the
heads of the tall men touched the roof. Under the boat was the only
place where a man could get on his knees and hold his head erect. In
this miserable dwelling the winter had to be passed on starvation
rations. Holes were cut in the sides of the boat, in which oars were
inserted, which reaching to the side walls and fastened by ropes,
supported the canvas and overlying blocks of snow which formed part of
the roof. The house was surrounded with snow, and at one end a
snow-house was built for the stores. Sand was put on the floor over the
uneven rocks.

The provisions from the various caches were slowly brought to the house
under great difficulties. The records of the expedition and the pendulum
were cached on Stalknecht Island in a prominent position, so that no one
visiting Payer Harbour could miss seeing it. A record similar to the one
placed on Brevoort Island was put in the sextant-box and left in the
cache.

On 29th October the party decided that one of two mattresses should be
set aside for Greely, who directed that the other should be disposed of
by lot. Greely also generously turned over his own mattress to Sergeant
Gardiner, who was ill. A considerable part of the dog-biscuits was found
mouldy, but although Greely gave orders that the bad ones should be
thrown away, the whole were afterwards eaten by the famished men.

On 1st November the daily ration was cut down to about 6 oz. bread, 4
oz. meat, and 4 oz. vegetables, etc.; a total of about 14 oz. On this
ration it was calculated that the party could be provided for until 1st
March 1884, at which date there would be ten days’ rations of 20 oz.
each in which to cross Smith Sound by sledge.

On 2nd November, Rice, Frederick, Elison, and Lynn left for Cape
Isabella to obtain the English meat cached there. The Arctic night had
commenced a week before this date, and the moon had chiefly to be
depended on for light. Cape Isabella was reached on the 7th November.
The first march of fourteen hours on the return journey was a very
exhausting one, and had to be done on a cup of tea and no food. During
this march Elison froze both his hands and feet. Frederick and Rice lay
on either side of Elison, and tried in many ways to impart heat to his
frosted limbs. Next day Frederick had to support and half carry Elison.
On the 9th, in order to save Elison, it became necessary to abandon the
meat. On the 10th, Rice started for the camp at Cape Sabine to obtain
assistance. He had to travel 25 miles almost in total darkness, and he
accomplished the distance in sixteen hours.

During this time, and until assistance arrived, Frederick and Lynn tried
to keep Elison warm, but in a few hours the sleeping-bag became frozen
so hard that they could not turn over, and had to lie in one position
eighteen hours.

Elison’s feet and hands were frozen solid, and his face was little
better, yet he arrived at Cape Sabine alive, although in a very critical
condition. The rescue party, enfeebled through want of food, made a
journey of nearly 40 miles in forty-four hours, over very rough and
heavy ice, exposed to temperatures ranging from 19° to 34° below zero,
and almost in darkness. Sad to relate, this party of rescuers and
rescued, with the exception of two, all afterwards perished.

On the 4th November it was found that some one had been tampering with
the stores. On the 9th, Lockwood discovered an opened but full can of
milk hidden away. About the middle of November, Greely began to give
lectures, so as to interest the men and kill time. On 4th December,
Greely states that he heard Dr. Pavy taking bread from Elison’s
bread-can, but did not charge him with it. A considerable number of
foxes were killed during December, and allowed a slightly increased
ration. For Christmas an attempt had been made to save some provisions,
although the whole party were starving. Breakfast on that day consisted
of a thin pea-soup, with seal-blubber and a small quantity of preserved
potatoes. The dinner was a more elaborate affair, and included
seal-stew, potatoes, bread, pickled onions, and a kind of rice pudding.
At night everybody was required to sing a song or tell a story, and the
proceedings continued till midnight. The only extra rations for New
Year’s Day were cloudberries and a quarter of a lemon and gill of rum to
each man.

On the 2nd January 1884, Elison’s right foot separated from the ankle
when the doctor severed a fragment of skin. The patient was quite
unconscious of the fact. Later he lost the other foot and both hands in
the same manner, and for long afterwards he still believed he possessed
them.

On the 4th January it was found that a hole had been cut through the
canvas roof of the storehouse and a piece of bacon fished out. On the
7th some one made a hole with an axe in one of the barrels of bread and
stole several pounds.

Up till the 12th January water had been obtained from a lake near the
house, but after that date ice had to be melted. This meant a heavy
drain on their fuel, and the quantity of tea had to be reduced one-half.
On the 16th January, Lockwood was so weak that he could not rise without
assistance. Cross was unable to walk, and several others of the party
were becoming very weak.

Cross died on the 18th January; his habits had no doubt undermined his
constitution, and he was therefore the first to succumb. He was buried
15 inches deep on the summit of a hill near the camp. Next day was his
birthday, and it was found that he had saved up a considerable quantity
of bread and butter to celebrate it.

On the 19th January it was found that the bread was overrunning the
estimate, and the ration was increased a half-ounce. This partly
dispelled the gloom caused by the first funeral. On the 21st January it
was discovered that at some time twelve cans of milk had been stolen. On
the 26th, Rice and Jens received an extra allowance of food, so as to
strengthen them for a proposed trip to Littleton Island. At this time
old leather boots were being burned to augment the fuel. The general
ration was again slightly increased on the 28th. A still further
increase was made on 1st February. On the 2nd, Rice and Jens started for
Littleton Island, accompanied by Brainard and Christiansen for a short
distance. They carried six days’ rations. They returned on the 6th
February, having found open water. Rice believed that he reached within
10 miles of Littleton Island. The trip exhausted Jens very much.

On 27th February the last of the onions, dog-biscuits, and coffee was
reached. On 2nd March the last general issue of lemons took place, and
the last can of milk was opened for Elison. On 3rd March, Frederick was
promoted by Greely to be sergeant in place of Cross, who had died. This
and similar promotions were afterwards disapproved of on the ground that
there was “no precedent for them”! Red tape in its most vivid colours
can evidently flourish in the land of “liberty.”

On 11th March, Long and Christiansen were sent to Alexandra Harbour in
search of game. They returned on the 13th very much exhausted. They saw
no game and no tracks, except of a single fox. On the 14th, Brainard
shot three ptarmigans, the first game obtained since early in February.
Three other were shot on the 15th, and four dovekies on the 16th. On the
17th the rations had to be reduced to 7 oz. of bread and 4 oz. of meat.
On the 21st a net was made in which to catch shrimps, and next day about
a pint was obtained. By this date the idea of crossing Smith Sound had
been given up, as the strength of the party was insufficient for the
task. On the 24th of March the entire party were in great danger of
perishing from the fumes of the alcohol-lamp used in cooking. The
chimney had been closed with rags, as usual, so that as much heat as
possible might be retained in the hut at night, and the cooks had
forgotten to remove the rags before beginning cooking. Several of the
men were rendered unconscious, but soon recovered in the air outside the
hut. It was remarked afterwards by all the men who got out of the hut,
that every one attempted to assist his neighbour except Henry, who held
himself aloof, evidently caring for no one but himself. Greely and
several of the men suffered severely from frost-bites as the result of
the exposure. After order was restored, and the breakfast cooked, it was
found that a piece of bacon had been stolen. Jens had seen Henry take
the bacon and conceal it within his shirt. Just before dinner, Henry
complained of being sick, and soon after he vomited. Frederick, on
examination, found that the vomited matter contained a considerable
quantity of undigested bacon. A general investigation of Henry’s conduct
was made on the 25th, which clearly established his guilt, not only of
the bacon, but that he took a double allowance of rum after the theft.
Greely relieved Henry from duty, and he was prohibited from leaving his
sleeping-bag except under the supervision of one of his comrades. Two
days later, 10 oz. chocolate reserved for Elison was stolen, and Henry
was suspected.

For the first time in five months a ray of sunlight entered the wretched
hut on 25th March. On the 27th, Long was fortunate in obtaining
thirty-three dovekies. On the 28th, Rice got 27 lb. of shrimps, Long
secured fourteen more dovekies, and Christiansen shot a ptarmigan. This
success caused great rejoicing among the starving men.

On the 29th March, Elison wished the doctor to do something for his
itching feet, unconscious that they had been gone since early in
January. On the 3rd April all that remained of provisions consisted of 5
lb. of meat, 3 lb. of bread, and about 2 lb. of stearine to each man.
From 20 to 30 lb. of shrimps were, however, being obtained daily.

The second death took place on 5th April. Christiansen, one of the
Eskimo, had been thoroughly used up in the hunting expedition with Long,
and never quite recovered. Extra food was given to him during the week
previous to his death, in the hope of saving him. Lockwood had a great
affection for him, and had much to say in his praise.

Deaths now followed one another quickly. Lynn became unconscious at 1
p.m. on 6th April, and died at 7 p.m. When dying he asked for water, but
there was none to give him. The Isabella trip had weakened him both
physically and mentally.

On the 6th April, Rice and Private Frederick started to attempt the
recovery of the English beef which had to be abandoned to save Elison.
They had wished to make the attempt earlier in the year, but Greely
would not consent. Now, when provisions were almost gone, he agreed.
Before leaving, Rice slept in the same bag containing his dead comrade
Lynn, all unconscious of the fact that, in two days more, he too would
pass away. The temperature when they started was 8° below zero. Next day
they were confined to their bag twenty-two hours by a violent storm.
They reached the place where the meat had been abandoned, but could not
find it. Soon afterwards Rice showed signs of weakness. Frederick gave
him some spirits of ammonia in rum, until he made some tea. Then, giving
him some warm food and drink, he urged him to walk, in order to avoid
freezing. His condition had now, however, become so alarming that he
could not stand up, and his mind continually reverted to home,
relations, and friends. Frederick stripped himself of his jumper, in
which to wrap Rice’s feet. In his shirt-sleeves, sitting on the sledge,
in a driving storm of wind and snow, he held his dying comrade in his
arms for several hours, until he passed away. The feelings of Frederick
may be imagined; his sleeping-bag had been left some miles away, and to
reach it he must struggle against a cutting blast filled with drifting
snow. Recovering strength by sleep and a little food, he returned 6
miles to cover his comrade with snow and ice. In returning to the camp
at Cape Sabine, he dragged his sledge as far as his feebleness would
permit, then took a little food, and getting into his bag, drank a
spoonful of ammonia and rum, which enabled him to sleep. As soon as he
awoke, he travelled on as before. In this way he hauled everything back
to the camp, even including Rice’s rations. It may truly be said that
Rice laid down his life for his comrades. On several other occasions he
had ventured it, especially on his extraordinary trips to Isabella, and
towards Littleton Island. Rice’s death deeply affected the party.

On the same day that this tragedy was being enacted on the ice, Lockwood
breathed his last in the hut at Cape Sabine. Since the beginning of the
year he had been extremely weak, but lingered on till the 9th of April.
He was the most distinguished man of the party, his explorations having
been the main achievements of the expedition. His name will remain in
Arctic history.

“Jewell is much weaker to-day,” were the last words Lockwood wrote. This
was on the 7th April, and on the 12th Jewell died. On the 11th, Brainard
fortunately shot a bear, which probably saved the lives of some of the
party; and on the following day Long shot a small seal. On the 13th the
ration was increased to a pound of meat daily. On the 20th it had to be
reduced to 10 oz. Towards the end of April, Greely was seriously ill,
and in danger of dying. Henry, taking advantage of his illness, stole
alcohol, and became hopelessly drunk.

On the 29th April, Jens and Long were out hunting, and watched a seal
lying on an isolated floe. They hoped the floe would drift in to the
fast ice, but after a long delay, Jens decided to try and reach it in
his kayak. He crossed one lead, dragged his kayak across the ice, and
entered a second. Long, who was looking on, saw Jens suddenly begin to
paddle rapidly, and the next moment the kayak began to sink. Jens made
an effort to get up on the ice, but it was new and could not bear his
weight, and he was drowned. The kayak was probably cut when being
dragged over the ice.

On the 3rd of May the last of the bread was used, and only nine days’
meat remained. On the 6th a violent scene took place between Greely and
Dr. Pavy regarding the doctor’s reports. On the 12th, Greely decided to
divide the last of the regular rations, as he was afraid that one or two
of the worst men of the party might appropriate the remaining food,
which was only sufficient to last till the 15th of May.

The want of provisions rapidly told on the starved men. Ellis died on
the 19th, Ralston on the 23rd, and Whisler on the 24th. They now tried
to feed on saxifrage (_Saxifraga oppositifolia_). On the 24th they had
for dinner a handful of saxifrage, two or three spoonfuls of shrimps,
and a pint and a half of tea. On the 26th there was a severe storm,
which prevented Brainard going to obtain shrimps, and in consequence
stews had to be made of the seal-skin thongs used for lashing the
sledge.

Sergeant Israel, the astronomer, died on the 27th May. At the beginning
of June, fourteen of the party were still alive, but did not expect to
live long, unless the hunters were more fortunate or relief came
quickly. On the 1st June they had a breakfast of shrimps and seaweed
after a fast of thirty-four hours. Lieutenant Kislingbury died at 3 p.m.
He was the only one of the party known by Greely before contemplating
Arctic work. Although he had trouble with him at the commencement of
their work at Conger, Greely acknowledged that he was a hard-working
officer, and that he never spared himself in labours which would add to
the personal comfort of others.

Salor died on 4th June. On this date, Greely, against the doctor’s
advice, decided to try to eat tripe de Roche. As Henry had been found
stealing again, he was cautioned by Greely that he would come to grief
if he did not stop it. Greely also gave written orders to Brainard,
Frederick, and Long that if Henry was again caught stealing he was to be
shot. Next day Frederick detected Henry stealing shrimps, and Greely
found that he had been stealing seal-skin thongs contrary to positive
orders. He was ordered to be shot, Greely giving the order in writing.
It was carried out the same day.

On the 6th June, Dr. Pavy drank about 3 oz. of extract of ergot, having
evidently mistaken it for a preparation of iron. He died the same day at
6 p.m., and Bender fifteen minutes before him. Greely states that Dr.
Pavy was a man of fine education, polished manners, and great Arctic
ambition. His medical skill was great, and contributed much to the
general welfare of the party during the last winter. He thought,
however, that his previous Bohemian life unfitted him for duty where his
actions were subject to restriction or limitation from others.

For breakfast on the 7th all the shrimps were eaten, and everybody began
collecting reindeer-moss, tripe de Roche, and saxifrage. On the 11th
June the party obtained a guillemot, and a second went to the hunters.
Next day the nets for catching shrimps were lost through the floes
breaking up. Gardiner appeared to be dead at 11 a.m. of this day, and
was carried from the tent in which the party had been living for some
time; but later he showed signs of life, and did not die until 5 p.m.

On 13th June, Greely issued to the party his seal-skin jumper for
dinner. He also divided between them the dirty, oil-tanned covering of
his sleeping-bag. Schneider died on 18th June.

Near midnight of the 22nd the whistle of a ship was heard. At first the
party could hardly believe their ears. Brainard went to the brow of the
hill, but no ship was to be seen. The party had resigned themselves to
despair, when suddenly strange voices were heard, and they realised that
they were saved. During the forty-two hours prior to their rescue a few
square inches of soaked seal-skin was all the nutriment they received.

No relief or expeditionary vessels ever before ventured at so early a
date the dangers of Melville Bay. Congress had offered a reward of 25000
dollars for the first information regarding the expedition, and this had
an important bearing on the rescue. The Scotch whalers set forth on
their voyage many days earlier than was customary, and there was a
friendly rivalry in the search between them and the American vessels in
charge of Captain Schley, who, profiting by their experience and advice,
won in the race for Cape Sabine.

Of the twenty-five men of the party eighteen had died. The living were:
Greely, Brainard, Long, Frederick, Bierderbick, Connell, and Elison. It
was found necessary, however, to perform secondary amputation in the
case of Elison, and he died at Godhavn on the 8th of July.

As regards the responsibility for the great disaster which overtook this
expedition, Greely admitted that, although not under orders to do so, he
should have done more than arrange for a retreat to Cape Sabine in the
event of not being reached at Conger. But little blame can be attached
to him for this omission. It is easy to criticise after the event, but
it seemed in the highest degree improbable that, if he could not be
reached at Conger, there would be the least difficulty in the relief
ships leaving sufficient supplies at Cape Sabine or other point on the
west coast.

The disaster can be traced in the first place to the instructions given
to Greely to abandon the station and retreat to the south in the event
of no relief ship reaching him. It would have been much better to have
left this question to Greely’s discretion. If the party had remained at
Conger another winter, it is highly probable that no disaster would have
occurred.

In the second place, the chief responsibility undoubtedly lay with those
who had charge of the relief. A ship was sent north in 1882, and failed
in its mission; but instead of leaving its stores, or even part of its
stores, at some point likely to be reached by Greely, those in command
took the incredible course of returning south with the stores intact.

In 1883 those in authority must have known that absolutely nothing had
been done in 1882, and that in the event of a failure to reach Conger
taking place in 1883, Greely would certainly retreat southwards. One
would therefore have expected that all possible precautions would be
taken to insure the safety of the expedition. The possible wreck of one
of the relief ships should have been arranged for, and steps taken to
insure that sufficient supplies would not only be left at Littleton
Island, but at some point on the west coast.

Serious responsibility was incurred by Lieutenant Garlington when he
made the written statement that everything in the power of man would be
done to relieve the expedition. All through the horrors of the winter
nearly the whole of Greely’s party believed to the last that a relieving
party was at Littleton Island watching the first favourable opportunity
to cross the Sound.

The whole arrangements for the relief ended in a gigantic muddle, and
while nothing was done to lend assistance, Greely’s party were induced
by fair promises to camp in a practically barren region.

                 *        *        *        *        *

This expedition, and others which had preceded it, gave little
encouragement to Americans to continue Arctic exploration, although the
results achieved had been important. Kane lost the _Advance_; his party
had to undergo great privations, and had ultimately to retreat in boats.
The _Polaris_ was lost, and many of the members of the expedition had to
suffer greatly. De Long lost the _Jeannette_, and a large number of his
party met a terrible fate; and now Greely’s expedition was the climax of
them all.




[Illustration: MAP OF FRANZ JOSEF LAND]




                               CHAPTER X
                THE NORWEGIAN POLAR EXPEDITION (1893−96)


In many respects this expedition is unique. It was planned by Dr. Nansen
after careful consideration of many scientific facts connected with the
Polar Sea, and although his theories and conclusions were opposed by
many of the leading authorities of the day, the expedition was carried
out almost to the letter.

The _Jeannette_ expedition had a very important bearing on that of Dr.
Nansen. In 1884, Professor Mohn published a paper in which it was stated
that various articles which must have come from the wreck of the
_Jeannette_ had been found on the south-west coast of Greenland. He
believed that they must have drifted on a floe right across the Polar
Sea. These articles included a list of provisions signed by De Long, the
commander of the _Jeannette_; an MS. list of the _Jeannette’s_ boats;
and a pair of oilskin breeches marked “Louis Noros,” the name of one of
the _Jeannette’s_ crew who was saved.

It occurred to Dr. Nansen that a ship might be allowed to be frozen in
the ice and to drift as the articles from the _Jeannette_ must have
done. This idea was propounded in an address before the Christiania
Geographical Society on 18th February 1890.

In this address Dr. Nansen brought forward various evidences in support
of the theory that a current flows across or near the North Pole from
Bering Sea on the one side to the Atlantic Ocean on the other. A
“throwing-stick” used by the Alaskan Eskimo in hurling their bird-darts
had been found among the drift-timber on the west coast of Greenland. It
was also known that the driftwood that is carried down by the polar
current along the east coast of Greenland and up the west coast consists
largely of wood from the coast of Siberia.

After discussing the various possible routes by which this drift might
take place, Dr. Nansen came to the conclusion that a current flows at
some point between the Pole and Franz-Josef Land from the Siberian
Arctic Sea to the east coast of Greenland.

Nansen’s plan was to build a ship as strong as possible, so as to enable
it to withstand the pressure of the ice. The sides were to slope
sufficiently to prevent the ice, when it presses together, from getting
firm hold of the hull, as was the case with the _Jeannette_ and other
vessels. Nansen’s idea was that the ice, instead of nipping the ship,
must raise it out of the water.

The _Fram_ was built on the principles suggested by Nansen: its sides
were from 24 to 28 inches in thickness, of solid water-tight wood. The
inside of the ship was also shored up and strengthened in every possible
way. The equipment was of the best, and special attention was devoted to
the commissariat; most of the provisions were soldered down in tins, as
a protection against damp.

The members of the expedition numbered thirteen. Several places were
visited in passing up the coast of Norway, and the party received a
great reception. Norway was left at Vardo; and about four days
afterwards, on the 27th July 1893, ice was met with.

It was Nansen’s intention to pass through Yugor Strait and make his way
along the coast until he reached the New Siberian Islands, and then up
the west coast of these as far as possible before he allowed the _Fram_
to be frozen in.

At Khabarova, Yugor Strait, thirty-four dogs which had been sent there
by previous arrangement were obtained. Some days were spent here in
making repairs, shifting coal, etc. A ship loaded with coal was to meet
the _Fram_ here, but turned up two days late, having been delayed by
ice. The _Fram_ left Khabarova on 5th August, and after careful
navigation in a fog, succeeded in passing through the Yugor Strait into
the Kara Sea. Cape Chelyuskin, the northernmost point of Asia, was
reached on the 10th September. On the 12th September two walruses were
shot and secured. On the 18th September the course was shaped
northwards, to the west of the New Siberian Islands, and the _Fram_ had
a straight run until the 20th September, when it was stopped by ice near
latitude 78°. The edge of the ice was now followed towards the
north-west, and about 78½° was reached. On the 24th September they found
that the ship was being frozen in. An observation taken on the 29th gave
latitude 79° 5′. By 8th November they had drifted as far south as 77°
43′; on the 19th November they were north to 78° 27′; and on the 23rd
November they reached 79° 11′, which was the highest yet reached. On the
27th November an altitude of Jupiter was taken, and the latitude found
to be 78° 36′, from which it was believed that a mistake had been made
on the 23rd. By the end of the year they were not much farther north;
sometimes the drift was one way and sometimes the other. Several bears
made their appearance and were shot; foxes were also seen.

As early as 15th January 1894, Nansen began to speculate about the
possibility of leaving the ship and making a sledge-journey over the ice
towards the Pole, but he decided to first wait and see the result of the
drift. On one point Nansen’s calculations had proved incorrect: he had
presupposed a shallow Polar Sea in which all currents would have a
strong influence. Instead of this, it was found in latitude 79° that
with a line of 1000 fathoms the bottom could not be reached. The
greatest depth hitherto found in these regions was 80 fathoms.

It was not until the 1st of February 1894 that the 80th degree of
latitude was reached. On the 6th of April a remarkable event took place,
which had been looked forward to with lively interest. It was an eclipse
of the sun. Hansen, who had charge of the astronomical observations,
calculated that the eclipse would begin at 12.56. It really was seen to
begin 7½ seconds later than the time calculated. This proved the
chronometers to be in excellent order. Four bears made their appearance
on 8th April; none had been seen during the three previous months. The
81st degree of latitude was reached about 17th May 1894, and the 82nd
not until the 31st October 1894.

On the 5th of November a curious incident happened, and is worth
mentioning. One of the young dogs was heard howling fearfully on deck.
It was found to have touched an iron bolt with its tongue, and was
frozen fast to it. The poor beast was straining to get free, with its
tongue stretched out so far that it looked like a thin rope proceeding
out of its throat. The bolt was heated by means of the hand, and the
puppy then managed to get the tongue free.

On 16th November, Nansen elaborated his plan for the sledge-journey
towards the Pole in the spring of 1895. He made his calculations from
the 83rd degree of latitude, and he expected that the _Fram_ would reach
a higher latitude than this. The distance to the Pole from this latitude
is 483 English miles. Nansen thought it reasonable to expect that this
distance could be covered in fifty days, which would give about 9½ miles
a day. The expedition was to consist of twenty-eight dogs, and two men,
with 2100 lb. of provisions and equipments. Nansen calculated that in
fifty days the dogs would consume 1400 lb. of pemmican, allowing a pound
a day for each dog. Two pounds of provisions daily for each man was
allowed. In returning, he intended to make for either the Seven Islands,
north of Spitzbergen, or Cape Fligely in Franz-Josef Land, according to
circumstances. Setting out on the 1st of March, he expected to reach the
Pole at the end of April, and have about 500 lb. of provisions left for
the return journey. This would not allow anything for the dogs, so it
was intended to kill some to feed the others. Allowing for the gradual
reduction of weight on the return journey, Nansen calculated that Cape
Fligely should be reached about the 1st of June. From here he would
decide whether to return along the north-west coast of Franz-Josef Land
by Gillis Land towards North-East Island and Spitzbergen, or south
through Austria Sound towards the south coast of Franz-Josef Land, and
thence to Novaya Zemlya or Spitzbergen.

Nansen decided that Johansen should be his companion. He was a
lieutenant in the Reserve, and was so eager to go in the _Fram_ that, as
no other post could be found for him, he accepted that of stoker. He
afterwards assisted Hansen in taking scientific observations.

On 20th November, Nansen delivered an address to the whole ship’s
company, in which he announced his determination to make the
sledge-journey. Preparations were now made in earnest. During the summer
Nansen had already begun to make a kayak, the frame of which was of
bamboo carefully lashed together. When completed, the framework weighed
16 lb. It was afterwards covered with sail-cloth, when the whole boat
weighed 30 lb. It was 12 feet long, 28 inches wide in the middle, and 12
inches deep. Another kayak was made with a depth of 15 inches. These
kayaks were chiefly intended for crossing over channels and open spaces
in the ice, and coasting along possible land. They were essentially like
Eskimo kayaks, full-decked, save for an aperture in the middle for a man
to sit in. This aperture was encircled by a wooden ring, after the
Eskimo fashion, over which the lower part of the seal-skin jacket could
be adjusted so that the junction between boat and jacket was
water-tight. Besides this aperture in the middle, there were small
trap-doors fore and aft in the deck, for the convenience of stowing
provisions. Two sledges were made about the same length as the kayaks.

On 12th December 1894 it was found that the _Fram_ had attained a higher
latitude than had ever before been reached by a ship, the observation
giving 82° 30′. A great feast was held in its honour.

On the 3rd of January 1895 the _Fram_ received such an alarming pressure
from the ice that all preparations had to be made in case the ship would
have to be abandoned. By the 6th of January the ice became quiet, and
the danger was over. On this day the latitude was found to be 83° 34′,
so that the expedition had now reached the most northern latitude; the
record of Lockwood had been beaten.

Preparations for the long sledge-journey were now hastened. Bolsters
filled with pemmican and dried-liver pie were made to fit the sledges
and form a bed on which the kayaks were to rest. These bolsters when
filled weighed from 100 to 120 lb. each. Three sledge-sails were made of
very light calico, and were about 7 feet 2 inches broad by 4 feet 4
inches long; they were made so that two of them might be laced together
and used as one sail for a double sledge.

On 26th February, Nansen and Johansen left the ship along with five of
their companions who were to accompany them a short distance. During the
first day, however, one of the sledges broke down seriously, and the
whole party returned to the ship, so that all the sledges might be
strengthened.

On 28th February a start was again made, with six sledges instead of
four. A broad board was fitted lengthwise to the sledge, underneath the
cross-bars, so as to protect them against projecting pieces of ice. They
had not proceeded far from the ship when Nansen came to the conclusion
that the load was too heavy, and several sacks with food for the dogs
were left behind. On the 3rd of March, Nansen again decided to return to
the ship. The progress made with six sledges was unsatisfactory, and the
cold was severe.

On the 14th of March they left the _Fram_ for the third and last time.
As regards clothing, Nansen had on the upper part of the body two
woollen shirts; outside these a camel’s-hair coat, and last of all a
thick rough jersey. Instead of the jersey, Johansen wore an “anorak” of
thick homespun, provided with a hood. On the legs they had, next the
skin, woollen drawers, and over these knickerbockers and loose gaiters
of close Norwegian homespun. To protect them from wind and fine-driven
snow, they wore a suit made of a thin, close kind of cotton canvas, and
consisting of an upper garment to pull over the head, provided with a
hood, and a lower one in the shape of a pair of wide overalls. Instead
of wearing long stockings, Nansen preferred to use loose stocking-legs
and socks, as these were more easily dried on the chest when asleep at
night. For travelling over snow in a low temperature, Nansen recommends
Finn shoes. They are warm and strong, are always flexible, and very easy
to put on and take off. They must, however, be made of the skin of the
hind-legs of the reindeer buck. In milder weather they had leather boots
of the “komager” type, made of under-tanned ox-hide, with soles of the
skin of the blue seal. Inside the Finn shoes they used “sennegraes,” or
sedge grass, which absorbs moisture and keeps the feet dry.

On their hands they wore ordinary woollen mittens, and above these large
gloves of wolf-skin, neither of them having divisions for the fingers.

On their heads they wore felt hats, which shaded the eyes from the
dazzling light, and were not so pervious to the wind as an ordinary
woollen cap would be. Outside the hat they generally had one or two
hoods of cloth.

To sleep in, they used a double bag of adult reindeer-skin.

In Nansen’s opinion, a tent should always be carried. He thinks that the
inconsiderable increase in weight is more than compensated for by the
extra comfort. The tent used was square at the base and pointed at the
top, and was pitched by means of a snowshoe-staff which served the
purpose of a tent-pole. The walls were kept down by pegs, and then
banked carefully round with snow to exclude wind and draughts. At first
Nansen tried a tent with a canvas floor attached, but found that snow
and moisture collected on this and added much to the weight. The whole
tent weighed a little over 3 lb.

The cooking apparatus consisted of two boilers and a vessel for melting
snow or ice. A Swedish gas-petroleum lamp, known as “The Primus,” in
which the heat turns the petroleum into gas before it is consumed, was
used for heating. Nansen used petroleum because it generates more heat
in comparison with its weight than alcohol. He took with him 4 gallons,
and this enabled them to cook two hot meals a day and melt an abundance
of water during 120 days.

Several pairs of snow-shoes were taken. Their firearms consisted of two
double-barrelled guns, each having a shot-barrel of 20 bore, and a
barrel for ball of about 360 calibre; and the ammunition amounted to
about 180 rifle-cartridges and 150 shot-cartridges.

The instruments were: a small theodolite, a pocket sextant and
artificial horizon, a light azimuth compass and two other compasses, two
aneroid barometers, two minimum spirit-thermometers, three quicksilver
sling-thermometers, an aluminium telescope, and a photographic camera.

As regards provisions, the chief article was pemmican, but there was
also a good supply of butter, calf’s liver, albuminous flour,
wheat-flour, whey-powder, cornflour, sugar, vril-food, chocolate,
oatmeal, white bread, aleuronate bread, fish-flour, dried potatoes,
cocoa, a “special food” made of pea-flour, meat-powder, fat, etc., and a
few others. An important point as regards provisions is that the food
should be in a condition to be eaten without cooking, in case the fuel
be lost or used up.

During the first week the travelling was good, from 9 to as many as 20
miles being covered daily. On the 22nd of March the latitude was found
to be 85° 9′. From this time onward the ice was bad. The temperature at
first was very low, frequently more than 40° below zero. On 29th March
the latitude was found to be 85° 30′, although Nansen expected that he
had reached 86°. This probably indicated that the ice was drifting
southwards. On 30th March, when one of the sledges was going over a
crack in the ice, all the dogs fell in, and had to be hauled out. The
next sledge fell in, and had to be unloaded before it could be got out.
Next day Johansen in crossing a lane went through the edge of the ice,
wetting both legs, which soon became covered with a mass of ice.

A great deal had always to be done before starting off on the day’s
journey. The breakfast had to be cooked; sometimes a sledge had to be
relashed; a hole would be found in a fish-flour sack which had to be
sewed up; and the dogs’ traces had to be disentangled with great
difficulty. On the 1st April they kept on the move so long that it was
too late to wind up their chronometers. Johansen’s had stopped
altogether, but Nansen’s was still ticking. The ice was now becoming
worse and worse, and Nansen began to have doubts as to the wisdom of
going northwards much longer.

On the 3rd April the second dog was killed as food for the others.
Nansen now calculated that the distance to Franz-Josef Land was three
times as far as the distance they had come. He saw that it was
impossible to reach the Pole or its immediate vicinity over the ice they
were encountering, with the dogs they had. He now wished that the number
of dogs had been much greater. On 4th April the latitude was 86° 3′. On
the 8th April, Nansen finally decided to return and shape his course for
Cape Fligely, in Franz-Josef Land, about 450 miles distant. The latitude
of the farthest north point was found to be 86° 13.6′, and the longitude
about 95° E.

During the first few days on the return journey they met with
comparatively level ice, much to their surprise; but they soon began to
meet more open lanes. On the 12th April they had the misfortune to let
their chronometers run down. This was the cause of much worry
afterwards. On 16th April, Nansen calculated that they were 60 miles on
their way home. The temperature had now risen to about 15° below zero,
and they considered this mild. A dog had to be killed every few days in
order to feed the others. They considered this slaughtering of the
faithful animals a horrible affair, but it was an absolute necessity.

On the 21st April they came across an immense piece of timber sticking
out of the ice. Nansen believed it to be Siberian larch. Johansen marked
it “F. N., H. J., 85° 30′ N.” On the 25th April fox-tracks which were
fresh were seen in the snow. This discovery raised the question whether
land could be near, but the weather was so thick that it might have been
near and could not be seen.

Open water in the form of lanes in the ice now became more frequent, but
Nansen was still reluctant to use the kayaks. There were several large
holes in them which would require to be repaired, and in the present
condition of the ice Nansen believed that it would be difficult to
protect the bows of the kayaks from being cut, and in the event of water
getting in, ice would immediately form, and to remove it would be
impossible.

On 3rd May the dogs had been reduced to sixteen. Two days later the
latitude was found to be 84° 31′, and longitude 66° 15′ E. This was not
so far south as Nansen expected, but farther west.

In some places the snow was very deep among the rough ice, and as the
snow-shoes had frequently to be taken off for the purpose of helping the
sledges over difficulties, Nansen regretted that he had not also Indian
snow-shoes, which would have been of more use in such circumstances.

On the 14th May, during a storm, the opportunity was taken to remove the
load from one of the sledges which was not now required. An attempt was
made to use the wood of the sledge as fuel, but after burning nearly the
whole of it and succeeding in obtaining only one pot of boiling water,
they gave it up as a failure, and went back to the “Primus.”

They had for some time been expecting to see land daily, but there was
still no appearance of it. The open lanes of water were causing more and
more trouble. On the 17th May a school of narwhals was seen in one of
them, but none was obtained. On the 19th May the first bear-tracks were
seen. On the 25th the latitude was found to be 82° 52′, and yet there
was no land in sight. Payer had supposed Petermann Land to be in
latitude 83°.

The first bird was seen on 29th May, and seals made their appearance
soon afterwards. On the last day of May only seven dogs remained. On the
2nd of June it was found that it was necessary to make use of the
kayaks, and preparations were made to put them in proper order. The
covers were patched and the frames relashed. It was not until the 8th of
June that everything was ready for a fresh start, and then it was found
that all the lanes had closed, so that the kayaks were not yet required.
For the first time the temperature rose above the freezing-point on 6th
June.

The travelling was now extremely difficult, and they had to be satisfied
with journeys of 1 and 2 miles daily. Sometimes it was found that they
had drifted about as far northward as they had travelled southward, and
it became a serious question whether they were likely to reach land.
Although about the latitude of Cape Fligely, there was no appearance of
land, and Nansen was in great difficulty over his longitude, due to the
time when the chronometers ran down. He calculated and recalculated his
observations without making the matter any more clear. Sometimes he
thought he might be east of Cape Fligely, and sometimes that he might be
to the west.

About the middle of June, three months after they left the _Fram_, they
began to see signs of returning life. Little auks were numerous, more
bear-tracks were seen, and on the 22nd June they were fortunate enough
to kill a seal. This seal was one of the large bearded variety (_Phoca
barbata_), and supplied sufficient food and fuel to last a month.

The killing of the seal furnished a very exciting incident. It was on
the first occasion that the kayaks were used. They had just crossed a
pool, and Nansen had hauled one of the sledges half-way on to the ice
when the seal appeared and was shot by Johansen. Nansen seized a harpoon
and threw it deep into the fat back of the seal. Meanwhile the sledge,
which had been drawn partly on to the ice, slid down again, and the
kayaks with Johansen and the dogs were set adrift. He tried to drag the
sledge up on to the kayak, but failed. The sledge gradually heeled the
kayaks over until one side of Johansen’s was in the water. The cooker
which was on the deck fell off and drifted away; the snow-shoes
followed. Nansen meanwhile was holding on to the seal, but had to let go
and assist in preventing the kayak from sinking. In the end, the lost
articles were rescued, and the seal hauled on to the ice. They had
previously reduced their rations and fuel to a minimum, but now they
feasted on seal’s flesh and blubber. It was decided to remain here some
time, to see if the ice would open to allow the kayaks to be used. About
this time they abandoned everything that was not absolutely necessary,
so as to lighten the load as much as possible—even the sleeping-bag was
left behind.

From this camp they first saw land without being aware of what it was.
While still waiting at this camp, a bear with two cubs put in an
appearance, and after a difficult chase over ice and lanes, all three
were shot. This fortunate occurrence supplied an abundance of food.
Nansen and his companion remained at this place, which was named
“Longing Camp,” until the 22nd July. A great deal of meat had to be left
behind, and a good many articles, such as a hammer, Finn shoes, a
frying-pan, sail-cloth, etc. In place of these articles, some flesh from
the seal and bear was carried.

Land was first detected on 23rd July. It had been observed before, but
the snow-fields were mistaken for clouds. It had long been expected, and
now it gave the travellers great joy.

On 29th July, Nansen began to suffer from lumbago, probably caused by
sleeping on the bare ice. It gave him severe pain during several days.

When land was first seen, Johansen expressed the opinion that it would
be reached next day. Due, however, chiefly to the drift, the journey
occupied thirteen days.

On the 4th of August, Johansen nearly lost his life. They had reached a
lane, and were preparing to launch the kayaks, when Nansen heard
Johansen cry to him to take the gun. On looking round to see what was
the matter, he saw an enormous bear standing over Johansen, who was on
his back. Nansen tried to seize his gun, but his kayak slipped into the
water, and it took some little time to pull it out again and to reach
the gun, which was in its case on the fore-deck. Luckily one of the dogs
came to the rescue, and the bear turned its attentions to it. This
enabled Johansen to wriggle himself out of its grasp, and the next
moment Nansen fired, and the bear dropped dead.

At last, on the 6th of August, open water was reached. For some time the
dogs had been reduced to two in number, and now that open water had been
gained, Nansen could not see how the two dogs could be taken farther. He
was sorry to part with them; they had been faithful and enduring, and
had followed him the whole journey through. A cartridge was sacrificed
on each.

The two kayaks were lashed together, and the sledges placed on deck, one
in front and one behind. Before going far, the wind rose sufficiently to
enable a sail to be used, and soon the margin of a glacier was reached.
This was from 50 to 60 feet in height, and landing was therefore
impossible. The margin of the glacier was followed towards the west, and
it was found necessary to land on a drifting floe in order to obtain
sleep. Next day, when they turned out, they found the ice packed around
them; but fortunately the open water was not far off to the west, and
they reached it without much difficulty. Birds were now plentiful, and
it was with great satisfaction that they observed the signs of
animal-life, and knew that they could obtain food. Later on they
discovered that the land they were coasting along consisted of islands.
The first three Nansen named “Eva’s Island,” “Liv’s Island,” and
“Adelaide’s Island” respectively. South of these the land had probably
been seen by Payer.

On the 11th of August, while Nansen was on a hummock inspecting the
waters ahead, a huge monster of a walrus came up near the kayaks. No
notice was taken of it, but it came up snorting, sometimes on one side
and sometimes on the other, and threatened to thrust its tusks into the
frail kayaks. Ultimately Johansen shot it through the eye, and with a
terrific bellow it rolled over and disappeared. Not long afterwards,
Johansen’s kayak received a violent shock from another walrus, which was
shot dead through the forehead by Nansen. With great difficulty, they
managed to cut a hole in the thick skin, and obtained some walrus-meat
and blubber.

On the 12th of August it was decided to cut off the ends of the sledges,
so as to be able to use the kayaks singly. This was done, and better
headway was made; but frequently the channel closed, and the sledges had
to be hauled over the ice. On the 14th of August an iceberg some 50 to
60 feet in height was seen, and this was the highest met with off
Franz-Josef Land. On this day they had bare land under their feet for
the first time in two years. The Arctic poppy was here in flower. The
imperfections of Payer’s map at this point greatly confused Nansen, and
he was not yet certain whether the land reached was part of Franz-Josef
Land. A sound to the west, which he at first supposed to be Rawlinson’s
Sound, did not at all agree with the description given by Payer. Nothing
was to be seen of Dove Glacier, which was supposed to bound the Sound on
one side. Nansen reasoned that if they were in Rawlinson’s Sound they
must have traversed the glacier and Wilczek Land without seeing any
trace of either, for they had travelled westwards a good half-degree
south of Cape Buda-Pesth. Nansen, therefore, was inclined to believe
that the land was new, and must be to the west of Franz-Josef Land. But
the next puzzle was that if this was the case, the new land must be very
far to the west, for nothing had been seen of Oscar’s Land. For the
present the question was left in a state of doubt.

When they rounded the headland to the west, they were delighted to find
open water as far as they could see, and that the land was trending
south-west. Their hopes of getting home now ran high, but soon
afterwards a storm delayed them four days and three nights, and the ice
packed close along the coast. This, at one blow, destroyed all hope of
getting home that year. While camping during the storm, a bear came to
the tent and was shot by Nansen. As food was becoming scarce, this was a
fortunate occurrence.

From the 24th of August till 6th December there was a gap in Nansen’s
diary. On the latter date he began to fill up the blank.

After being stopped by the storm, and then drifted out to sea on the
ice, they sailed for a whole day in open water in their kayaks. On the
following day the weather became stormy, and they were obliged to land.
Scarcely had they reached the shore when a bear was seen and promptly
shot. Walruses were also seen in great numbers. After feasting on the
bear’s flesh, they lay down to sleep, but were awakened during the night
by a peculiar sound outside the tent. This was found to be caused by a
she-bear and her young one, but as Nansen thought they had already
sufficient food for the present, they were allowed to escape. Next day
the ice had again been driven against the shore, and as they could not
proceed they decided to make themselves more comfortable by building a
temporary hut of stone. The roof was made of the silk tent spread over
snow-shoes and bamboo rods, and the doorway was closed with their coats.
Daylight could be seen between the stones on all sides, but yet they
considered it comfortable. The way south was still blocked on the
following day, which was the 28th of August, and Nansen finally resolved
on remaining here during the winter. He was afraid that if he went much
farther south he might not have sufficient time to build a house and
obtain food. He therefore decided to begin at once and lay in stores
while game was yet plentiful. They first decided to attack the walruses,
and as they were emptying the kayaks in order to be prepared, a she-bear
and her cub were seen coming along the edge of the ice, and both were
shot. This was a good beginning. Next day they tried their luck at
walrus-hunting. A walrus was soon found, but nine cartridges had to be
expended before the monster was killed, and then, before they could get
near enough to use a harpoon, it sank and disappeared. They returned to
the shore very much crestfallen.

They now found two walruses lying asleep on the shore-ice, and stole
cautiously up to them. Nansen fired at the back of the neck of one, and
killed it with the first shot. The other one was struck too far forward
in the head, and required three bullets to kill it. They had now to skin
them, but as there was a danger of being sent adrift, the wind having
risen, Nansen took the wise precaution of bringing up the kayaks and
sledges. It was as well he did so, for while they were busily engaged
skinning the animals, the wind rose rapidly, and they suddenly
discovered that the ice had broken off and that they were adrift. They
hurriedly cut off as much walrus-flesh as possible and flung it into the
kayaks, but it was a hard pull to reach the shore in the storm.
Meanwhile the ice on which the bodies of the walruses were, drifted out
to sea and disappeared. During the following night they were again
awakened by a bear outside the hut. It was a she-bear with two large
cubs. The mother was shot, but the cubs took to the water, where they
reached a piece of floating ice. Nansen decided to go out in the kayaks
after the cubs. When they went to get the kayaks, they found that the
bears had been at the walrus-meat and devoured every piece of fat and
blubber on it. One of the kayaks was thrown half into the water, and the
other high up among the stones, but fortunately they were still
seaworthy. The kayaks were launched, and the cubs chased to land, where
they were shot. Three bears in one day was good work, and to add to
their satisfaction, the sunken walrus shot on the previous day was found
floating at the edge of the ice. It was towed into a place of safety in
a creek and made fast. After skinning the bears and covering up the
flesh, they turned in for sleep, as they had obtained little the two
previous nights. On the 2nd September they set to work on the skinning
of the walrus. Another walrus, evidently curious to see what was going
on, came into the channel where the dead walrus was lying, and
approached right up to the edge of the ice where Nansen and Johansen
stood. Its curiosity cost it its life, and there were now two walruses
to skin instead of one. This work was far from agreeable: they had to
lie on the animals and cut down as far as they could reach below the
water, and they were soon saturated from head to foot with blubber and
oil and blood. To make matters worse, they had no chance of changing
their clothes during the winter; but it was a work of necessity, as the
walrus-blubber was needed for fuel.

On 7th September the building of the permanent winter-hut was commenced.
Stones were quarried from among the débris at the foot of a cliff near
by, and part of a sledge-runner had to do duty as a pick. A spade was
made out of a shoulder-blade of a walrus tied to a piece of a broken
snowshoe-staff. The walls were built of stone, with moss and earth
between, and were finished in one week. They were scarcely 3 feet in
height, but an equal distance had been dug into the ground, so that the
hut was high enough to stand in. The forming of the roof was the
greatest difficulty. However, a piece of driftwood had been found on the
shore, and after a day’s work Johansen succeeded in cutting it in two
with a small axe. These formed the ridge-piece, and walrus-hides formed
the rest. In one corner of the hut a little hearth was made to cook
upon, and above this a round hole was cut in the walrus-hide. A
smoke-board was made of a bear-skin. The hearth had not been used long
before it was found necessary to build a chimney. This was erected on
the roof, and as the only materials were ice and snow, it was not
altogether free from the drawback of sometimes dripping down on the
hearth. Lamps were made by turning up the corners of some sheets of
German silver. These were then filled with crushed blubber, and wicks
were made from bandages. They gave a good light, but assisted very
little in raising the temperature. A sleeping-shelf made of stone was
erected along the back wall of the hut, but although bear-skins were
spread on this it always remained hard and uncomfortable. The door
consisted of an opening at one corner of the wall, which led into a
short passage, dug out in the ground, and then roofed over with blocks
of ice. The inner opening was covered with a bear-skin, and another skin
was laid over the outer opening. The hut was 10 feet long and 6 feet
wide. The cooking was very simple: it consisted in boiling bear’s flesh
and soup in the morning, and frying steak in the evening. Large
quantities were consumed at every meal, and yet they never tired of it,
and had always good appetites.

While building the hut an anxious look-out was kept for bears, as none
had been seen for some time, and too little meat had yet been obtained
to last during the winter. On the 23rd September one was found beside a
walrus-hide which had been put in water to thaw. Soon afterwards a
second bear was seen gnawing at the hides on the roof of the hut. Both
were shot. On the 24th September two more walruses were shot, and from
these they obtained all the blubber they now required. On the 26th
September a bear was seen out on the ice, but when Nansen approached it
made off. He fired twice at long range, the second shot wounding the
animal. It leaped and struck the ice, and finally broke through into the
water. It then made desperate efforts to regain the ice, but the ice
always broke under its weight, and ultimately it died in the water.
Nansen and Johansen by means of a rope attempted to haul the bear up on
to the ice, but they found the weight beyond their powers, and the ice
always gave way. By making a narrow crack sufficient to allow the rope
to pass, they dragged the bear under the ice to the shore, where they
made a hole and managed to draw it out. After skinning the animal, they
carried as much of the meat as they could to the hut. When they neared
the place where their blubber was heaped, they were astonished to see
three bears tearing at it—a she-bear and two young ones. The mother was
killed, but the two young ones escaped. On the morning of 28th September
a large bear was found sleeping on the blubber-heap, and was shot. It
had eaten an enormous quantity of the blubber, and had also killed the
two young bears which escaped.

The foxes caused a good deal of trouble during the winter. They stole
everything they could move. Pieces of bamboo, steel-wire, harpoons and
harpoon-lines, a collection of geological specimens, a ball of twine,
and lastly a thermometer, were all carried off.

On the 15th of October they saw the sun for the last time above a ridge
to the south. The last bear was shot on the 21st October, and no more
were seen until the spring.

The life during the winter was very monotonous. It consisted chiefly of
cooking and eating, and taking a little exercise when weather permitted.
On Christmas Eve preparations were made to celebrate Christmas, but
these preparations were of a very limited character. Johansen turned his
shirts and put the outside one next the skin. Nansen did likewise, and
washed himself in a quarter of a cup of warm water, using a dirty pair
of drawers as sponge and towel. For supper they ate a small portion of
the provisions they had preserved for the journey south in the spring.
Only on this occasion and on New Year’s Eve were these provisions
touched during the winter.

Birds again made their appearance on 25th February, and a bear was shot
on 8th March. This bear came in good time; the supply of oil was running
low, and they could only afford to cook once a day. Another bear was
shot on 2nd April, and as they now had a considerable quantity of
blubber and meat, preparations were made for the journey south. But a
great deal required to be done. New clothes had to be made out of
blankets; the windclothes had to be patched; the “komager” had to be
soled; and socks and gloves had to be made out of bear-skin. Then a
light sleeping-bag of bear-skin had also to be made. The hut was
therefore suddenly transformed into a tailor’s and shoemaker’s workroom.
Thread was obtained by unravelling the cotton canvas of some
provision-bags.

Nansen was as pleased as a child with a new dress when on 12th May he
was able to put on his blanket-trousers, strengthened inside and out
with pieces of an old pair of drawers and of a shirt.

The stores which had been buried at the beginning of the winter were now
dug up, and greatly to Nansen’s disappointment it was found that several
articles had been spoiled by the damp of the previous autumn. The flour
had got mildewed; the chocolate had been dissolved by the damp; the
pemmican was uneatable. There remained a limited quantity of fish-flour,
some aleuronate flour, and some half-moulded bread, which they carefully
boiled in train-oil, partly to dry it, and partly to render it more
nutritious by impregnating it with fat. They also cut up as much raw
bear’s flesh and blubber as they could carry. Train-oil took the place
of petroleum as fuel. They still had 100 rifle-cartridges and 110
smallshot-cartridges, and their rifles were in good condition.

The hut was left on 19th May, after a short record of the journey had
been deposited in a brass tube plugged at each end and hung by a wire to
the roof. During the first few days they made short marches, until they
again became accustomed to the work. On 22nd May they had to shelter
from a snowstorm, and on the 23rd the weather was still bad, and they
only went a short distance. On the 24th, Nansen narrowly escaped being
drowned. While Johansen was busy with his kayak, Nansen pushed ahead to
look for a camping-ground, but suddenly the ice gave way, and he found
himself lying in a broad crack which had been concealed in the snow. He
tried to get out again, but his snow-shoes were firmly fastened, and he
was also tied by the harness to the sledge, so that he could not turn
round. Fortunately, he had been able, when falling, to dig his
pike-staff into the ice on the opposite side of the crack, and he held
himself up by that, and lay waiting for Johansen to come up. The latter,
however, had not noticed the accident, and was still busy at his sledge
and kayak. Meanwhile the water was creeping farther and farther up
Nansen’s body, and he began to shout for help. At last he was observed
by Johansen, who arrived just in time to prevent Nansen from going
completely under the water. In future the snow-shoes were not firmly
attached when the ice was thought to be dangerous. From the 26th to the
28th May they were weather-bound, and after advancing a short distance
on the latter date, they had again to take shelter until the 3rd of
June. As provisions were now getting low, a walrus was shot, and a
supply of meat and blubber thus obtained. On the 4th June they were able
to launch their kayaks for the first time, and made great progress. On
the 6th they had again to take to the ice, but as there was a strong
north wind and the surface was favourable they were able to make good
use of the sledge-sail. On the 8th they were stopped by a furious storm,
and next day they had to make a long détour westwards in order to avoid
treacherous ice. On the 12th they were able to sail all day long. In the
evening they felt their legs stiff with sitting in the kayak all day,
and they landed on the edge of the ice so that they might stretch them a
little. They then wished to ascend a hummock, so that a view might be
obtained over the water. After the kayaks, which were lashed together,
had been moored by means of one of the braces, they ascended a hummock
close by, and had been standing only a short time when Johansen raised
the cry that the kayaks were adrift. A rush was made to the edge of the
ice, but the kayaks were already a little way off and were drifting
quickly. The position was a terrible one, for all they possessed was on
board the kayaks. Nansen at once threw off some of his clothing, handed
his watch to Johansen, and sprang into the icy water. He knew that if
the kayaks were lost it meant death to him and his companion. At first
it seemed more than doubtful whether he could manage to regain them.
When he got tired, he turned over and swam on his back. At length he
gained a little on the kayaks, and he redoubled his exertions. By this
time Nansen felt his limbs gradually stiffening and losing all feeling.
His strokes became more and more feeble, but the distance from the
kayaks became shorter, and at last he was able to grasp a snow-shoe
which lay across the sterns. He now tried to pull himself up, but his
body was so stiff with cold that this seemed an impossibility. After a
little, he managed to swing one leg up on to the edge of the sledge
which lay on the deck, and then raised the rest of his body. They were
saved! With some difficulty he paddled the kayaks back to Johansen, who
confessed that these were the worst moments he had ever lived through.
Johansen now pulled off Nansen’s wet clothes, put on the few dry ones
they had in reserve, spread the sleeping-bag upon the ice, and covered
Nansen with the sail and everything he could find to keep out the cold.
Next day Nansen was all right again, and in the evening the journey was
continued.

On 14th June great herds of walruses were met, and as meat and blubber
were at a low ebb, a young one was shot. Two days afterwards, a walrus
nearly turned the tables on them. It came up close beside Nansen’s
kayak, threw itself on the edge of it, took hold farther over the deck
with one fore-flipper, and tried to upset the frail craft. Nansen struck
at its head with the paddle, while it in turn struck at the kayak with
its tusks. It was only when the deck was almost under water that it
suddenly disappeared. Nansen was congratulating himself on his fortunate
escape, when he noticed his legs getting wet, and he had only time to
run the kayak on a sunken ledge of ice when it sank. It was as well that
the ice was near at hand, or the result would have been serious.

In the afternoon of the 17th June, Nansen had ascended a hummock to have
a look at the land beyond. Flocks of auks were flying to and fro making
a confused noise, and as Nansen listened, a sound suddenly reached his
ear, so like the barking of a dog that he started. He waited for some
time, listening intently, till the barking began again and there was no
room for doubt. He shouted to Johansen that he heard dogs. Johansen
started up from the bag where he lay sleeping, and tumbled out of the
tent. He tried to hear the sound, but could only make out the noise of
the birds. Nansen, however, was convinced that he heard dogs, and he
prepared to make for the land, leaving Johansen to stay behind with the
kayaks, so that there might be no risk of their drifting away again. He
had not gone far when he observed tracks which were probably those of a
dog. Then he again heard the yelping of a dog more distinctly than ever.
It was with a strange mixture of feelings that he made his way towards
land. Suddenly he thought he heard a shout from a human voice, and he
ran up on to a hummock and hallooed with all his might. Soon he heard
another shout, and saw a dark form moving among the hummocks. It was a
dog, and farther off was seen a man. Nansen approached quickly and waved
his hat; the man did the same. Nansen heard him speak to the dog, and
recognised that the language was English. As he drew nearer, Nansen
thought he recognised Mr. Jackson, whom he had once seen. They extended
a hand to one another, with a hearty “How do you do?” Explanations
quickly followed, and Nansen was led to Jackson’s hut at Cape Flora.
Here he received a royal welcome from the members of the
Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition. Men were immediately sent to Johansen’s
assistance, and his reception at the hut was scarcely less hospitable
than Nansen’s. Their feelings may be imagined when they were able to
throw off their dirty oily rags and have a hot bath, and to be able to
put on clean clothes. To add to Nansen’s delight, Jackson had a packet
of letters for him, and these contained only good news.

It is an interesting fact that Nansen when he arrived at Cape Flora
weighed no less than 22 lb. more than when he left the _Fram_, and
Johansen weighed 13 lb. more. Bear’s flesh had evidently agreed with
them.

On a comparison of Nansen’s chronometers being made, it was found that
they were not so far out as had been anticipated. They were about 26
minutes wrong, making a difference of 6½° in longitude.

The _Windward_, which was to bring supplies and take home some of
Jackson’s party, arrived on the 26th July. By this time Nansen and
Johansen began to fear that the vessel could not get through the ice and
that they would have to spend another winter in the Arctic regions. News
soon arrived that all was well at home, and that nothing had been heard
of the _Fram_.

The _Windward_ left Cape Flora on 7th August, and reached Vardo, in
Norway, on the 13th. Nansen and Johansen immediately set out for the
telegraph-station, and soon the news of their arrival spread over the
civilised world.

On the 17th August, Nansen arrived at Hammerfest. On the 20th August,
while still here, he received a telegram from Sverdrup announcing the
arrival of the _Fram_ in Norway. This filled the cup of rejoicing to
overflowing. Next day the _Fram_ was joined in Tromsö harbour, and again
they were all together, well satisfied with their success.

                 *        *        *        *        *

We may now return to the voyage of the _Fram_ after the departure of
Nansen and Johansen on their sledging expedition. It then lay in 84° 4′
N. latitude, and 102° E. longitude.

Sverdrup, after carting away a great pressure-ridge from the port side
of the vessel, made various preparations for a sledge-journey southward,
in the event of the _Fram_ being wrecked. Sledges, kayaks, snow-shoes,
and many other articles had to be made, and this work kept all busy for
a considerable time. Sverdrup considers Canadian snow-shoes superior to
Norwegian ones, when it is a question of hauling heavily loaded sledges
over rough ice.

During the summer of 1895 the drift was very slow; the latitude on 22nd
June was 84° 32′, and on 6th September, 84° 43′. The longitude on these
dates was 80° 58′ and 79° 52′ respectively. During the next three months
the drift towards the west was much greater: on the 30th October the
longitude was 70° 50′, on the 1st December it was 58° 45′, and on the
9th January 1896 it was 41° 41′. The meridian of 60° passing near Cape
Fligely, in Franz-Josef Land, was passed towards the end of November. On
the 15th November the latitude was 85° 55.5′, and on the 9th January
1896 it was down to 84° 57′.

In these high latitudes the change from sunlight during the whole
twenty-four hours to darkness during the same period is very sudden. On
12th September the sun was above the horizon at midnight; on 8th October
it disappeared at noon—a change from constant light to constant
darkness in twenty-six days.

As early as the beginning of February 1896 numerous lanes of water were
found both to the north and to the south. By this time they had drifted
to the 25th degree of longitude, while the latitude kept steady at about
84° 50′. On the 15th February the longitude was 23° 28′, but by the 29th
February they had gone back to 27°. After this date the drift to the
west was very slow, but it was more rapid towards the south. On 16th May
the latitude was 83° 45′, and the longitude 12° 50′.

For some months no animals had been seen, and the appearance of two
bears on 28th February caused some excitement. When about 150 yards from
the ship, they stood for a time, but as it was still very dark, Sverdrup
waited in the expectation that they would come nearer. Instead of coming
nearer, they went off. Pettersen was asked whether he had something to
fry which would smell strongly, so as to entice the bears back. After
the bears had been long out of sight, Pettersen produced a pan of fried
butter and onions. Before long, the bears were seen coming back, and
both were shot by Sverdrup. It was sixteen months since they last shot a
bear, and during that time they had very little fresh meat.

Soundings were taken several times during the winter, but the bottom was
not reached with a line over 9000 feet in length.

An interesting experiment was made on the 13th April. Scott-Hansen and
Sverdrup took an observation with the theodolite, and Nordahl an
observation with the sextant, on the natural horizon. According to the
theodolite, the latitude was 84° 11.5′, and by the sextant 84° 13′. It
had previously been ascertained that there was a difference of about two
minutes between the artificial and natural horizons.

As spring advanced, the openings in the ice became larger, and
preparations were made for forcing the _Fram_ ahead as soon as the
opportunity offered. Everything that was on the ice was taken on board,
and on the 18th May the engine was made ready for getting up steam.

Towards the end of May blasting operations were begun to release the
_Fram_ from the ice, and on 2nd June, Sverdrup and his crew had the
satisfaction of seeing the ship once more free. There was still,
however, too much ice all around for the _Fram_ to make much use of her
freedom. It was not until the 12th June that a movement could be made,
and then only for a short distance. On the 27th June the _Fram_ was
forced ahead about 2 miles. On the 3rd July 3 miles were made, and on
the 7th about 1 mile. On the 8th July, in latitude 83° 2′, the bottom
was reached at 1841 fathoms. On the 19th July the _Fram_ made about 10
miles, and on the following day it advanced from 83° 14′ to 82° 39′.
Good progress was now made, and at midnight on the 27th July latitude
81° 32′ had been reached. During the next fortnight they made little
headway, and on the 9th August the latitude was found 16′ farther north
than on 27th July.

On the 13th August the _Fram_ steered through the last ice-floes into
open water, north of the 80th degree of latitude.

                 *        *        *        *        *

Nansen’s expedition lifted the veil of mystery from a large portion of
the Arctic regions. It proved that no land existed over the long zigzag
route traversed by the _Fram_ from the New Siberian Islands to a point
north of Spitzbergen within 350 miles of the Pole, nor over the long
sledge-route traversed by Nansen and Johansen. It discovered that the
Polar Sea, instead of being shallow as hitherto supposed, is a deep
basin, exceeding in many places 11000 feet.

The _Fram_ drifted very near the route sketched by Nansen before the
expedition set out, and although Nansen had to admit that the real force
which caused the drift was the wind—an opinion previously formed by De
Long from the drift of the _Jeannette_—this did not alter the final
result.

The drift of the _Fram_ also forcibly proves that the great mass of ice
in the Polar Sea is in a constant state of movement. It was found that
in the sea north of Siberia the prevailing winds were south-easterly or
easterly, and therefore the drift was towards the north-west or west. On
the other hand, to the north of Spitzbergen the winds are
north-easterly, and the drift is to the south-west.

The manner in which the _Fram_ drifted also allows speculations to be
made as to the likelihood of the existence of land to the north of the
_Fram’s_ track. It was found that with a southerly wind the ice moved
easily towards the north. This is in favour of the view that no land
exists within a considerable distance to the north. The depth of water
and the absence of bears during 1895 also favour this view. There is a
greater probability that land may exist north of Greenland or north of
Grinnell Land.[1] The _Fram_ began to drift to the south when it reached
the neighbourhood of 66° E. longitude, or to the north of Franz-Josef
Land. The latitude was then 85° 55.5′. It is probable, however, that the
_Fram_ was now within the direct influence of the drift which constantly
passes down the east coast of Greenland, and that the drift to the south
was not due to land towards the north or west. More ice is formed in the
Polar Sea during the long winter than is melted during the short summer,
and the surplus must find an outlet into the warmer water of the south.
The ice of the Polar Sea may be compared to the ice of a mighty glacier:
the surplus of both moves on until it finds an outlet, and moves in the
path of least resistance. The chief and almost only outlet from the
Polar Sea is between Greenland and Norway. A comparatively small amount
of ice finds its way through Robeson Channel or Behring Strait. The
drift of the _Jeannette_ proves that from Behring Strait the set of the
ice is towards the west and north-west. Between the longitude of Behring
Strait and the longitude of the north-east of Greenland there must
somewhere be a dividing-line where it will be easier for the ice to find
its way east round the north of Greenland than westward over the great
extent of Polar Sea. It is probable that the ice from north of latitude
84° and westward at least as far as 100° W. longitude drifts to the east
round the north of Greenland, if land does not extend farther north in
that direction.

The sledge-journey by Nansen and Johansen was the most daring ever
undertaken. In the case of any other sledge-journey there was always a
base of supplies to fall back upon; in Nansen’s case there was none. In
taking only one companion with him, his daring amounted to rashness. Had
any serious accident happened to one of them it would have meant the
sacrifice of both lives, for it cannot be supposed for a moment that a
comrade could have been deserted under any circumstances. A party of
three would have been much safer, although it would have involved a
larger quantity of provisions. Two men might struggle on with a disabled
companion, but it would be practically impossible for one to do so.

-----

[1] These remarks were written before the discovery of Crocker Land and
Bradley Land.




[Illustration: CHART OF SVERDRUP’S DISCOVERIES.]




                               CHAPTER XI
                   SVERDRUP’S EXPEDITION (1898−1902)


A few days after the return of the _Fram_, Sverdrup was asked by Nansen
whether he wished to go on another expedition to the north. He then
explained that Consul Axel Heiberg and the firm of brewers, Messrs.
Ringnes Brothers, were willing to equip a new Polar expedition with
Sverdrup as the leader. The offer was quickly accepted.

The route agreed upon was up Smith Sound and through Robeson Channel,
and as far along the north coast of Greenland as possible before
wintering. Sledge-journeys were then to be made to the northernmost
point of Greenland, and as far down the east coast as could be attained.

The Norwegian Government not only gave the loan of the _Fram_, but
granted about £1100 for necessary alterations.

It was intended to provision the _Fram_ for two or three years, but in
the end there was enough for five.

The only member of the first expedition to accompany Sverdrup was
Hendriksen. The full party numbered sixteen, and included a botanist, a
zoologist, and a geologist.

The _Fram_ left Christiania on 24th June 1898, and on the 27th it left
Christiansand, a course being set for the south of Greenland, which was
sighted on the 17th July.

On 28th July a stop was made at Egedesminde, where it had been arranged
that the Royal Greenland Trade Service would have dogs for the
expedition. In Sverdrup’s opinion the two indispensable adjuncts to the
carrying out of polar research are ski and dogs, and for the Eskimo dog
he has a great admiration. His experience was that one man cannot manage
more than eight dogs.

Egedesminde was left on the 29th July, and next day Godhavn was reached.
Here, coal, water, and more dogs were taken on board, and on the 2nd
August a course was shaped for Upernavik, which was reached on the 4th.

Upernavik was left behind on the 5th August, and Melville Bay was
entered on the following day. Here the _Fram_ was detained six days in
the ice, and did not reach open water till the 16th.

The first place visited was Foulke Fiord, where they expected to obtain
large game, but were disappointed. The _Fram_ was next steered for
Littleton Island, where records were deposited. The view of the ice from
the island was not encouraging, but Sverdrup continued along the coast
of Greenland. The ice, however, lay immovable close in to land, and the
_Fram_ was forced to turn back on the night of 17th August.

When abreast of Littleton Island a course was steered to Ellesmere Land,
and then the coast was followed northwards; but when north of Cape
Sabine the _Fram_ was stopped by impenetrable ice. To avoid being
pressed ashore, it was found necessary to anchor the _Fram_ in the
northern part of Rice Strait. For some time it was hoped that the ice
would drift south and allow a passage to the north, but ultimately the
party were compelled to take up winter quarters in Rice Strait.

Preparations were soon made for autumn sledging through Hayes Sound, and
before the winter darkness set in it was discovered that the Sound
divided into two fiords, and one of these was penetrated to its head.
The valleys in this region were found to support large numbers of
musk-oxen, but as Sverdrup failed to detect the flavour of musk either
in the flesh or in the milk, he preferred to use the term “polar oxen.”

A more or less permanent camp was formed on the point of land where
Hayes Sound divides into Beitstadfiord and Jokelfiord. It received the
name of “Fort Juliana.” While Sverdrup was here on 6th October he met
Peary, who was out on a sledge-journey. Peary’s ship had passed Cape
Sabine on 13th August, and on the 15th had been beset off Cape Hawks,
where it had to winter.

Sverdrup’s party passed the winter busily engaged in various
preparations for exploration in the spring. The winter quarters were not
far from Greely’s starvation-camp, but little trace of it could be
found.

On the 18th March 1899 an Eskimo from Inglefield Gulf on his way to
Peary’s ship paid the _Fram_ a visit, and other Eskimo arrived during
the course of the spring.

On the 19th March, when the Eskimo left the ship on his way to Peary, he
was accompanied by Baumann, Sverdrup’s second in command, and by Hassel,
one of the crew, who wished to visit Peary. The _Windward_ was reached
without incident, but at that time Peary himself was confined to his
cabin. In February, during a sledge-journey, most of his toes were
frost-bitten, and had to be amputated.

On 17th April, Sverdrup with three men left the ship to make an attempt
to cross Ellesmere Land to the west coast. Two days were taken to reach
Fort Juliana, which was left on 20th April. After leaving this camp, the
ice was found very favourable, and a distance of 38 miles was covered
during the first day. At the head of the fiord Sverdrup decided to
continue the journey with Bay the zoologist, while the other two were to
make a survey from the head of the fiord back to the _Fram_.

Sverdrup’s route now lay along the bed of a river, but in the afternoon
of the first day rapids were met, and a halt had to be made so that the
country ahead could be examined. By making a détour round the rapids,
across some sand-hills, better travelling was found, and the ground up
to the watershed was covered quickly.

Polar oxen were met in considerable numbers. When attacked, they form a
square with the calves and heifers in the middle, and the bulls and cows
standing in line of defence at equal distances. Sometimes the fiercest
of the bulls form a kind of outpost about 25 yards distant from the
square, and make individual attacks. When once the square has been
formed, the animals remain at their posts until the attack is repulsed
or the entire square fallen. They have developed their strategic
reasoning powers to a wonderful extent.

West of the watershed the country became bare of snow, and progress was
arrested by an impassable cañon. After various endeavours to find a
passage for the sledges, Sverdrup decided to carry provisions for three
days, and to take the dogs loose. In two days they reached a large
fiord, which was named “Bay Fiord” after Sverdrup’s companion. The
return journey was made without special incident.

On 23rd May, Isachsen, the cartographer of the expedition, with
Braskerud, set out to cross the glaciated part of Ellesmere Land. The
west coast was reached on 4th June. They found considerable difficulty
on many occasions in extricating themselves and the dogs from the
crevasses in the glaciers, but the journey was completed without serious
accident. They reached the _Fram_ on 2nd July.

On the 2nd June two expeditions left the ship. One was composed of Schei
the geologist, and the doctor, Johan Svendsen. The other was composed of
Simmons the botanist and Sverdrup. Both parties travelled together
during the first day, and then separated. On the 6th June, Sverdrup and
his companion were at Fort Juliana, when the other party unexpectedly
arrived. The doctor had taken ill while driving up the fiord. He was
made as comfortable as circumstances would allow. He was snow-blind, and
also complained of pains in his chest. Sverdrup wished to take him back
to the _Fram_, but he said he would soon get well, and he preferred to
stay where he was. Two days afterwards the doctor was much better, and
helped to harness the dogs and lash the loads when the rest of the party
were setting out on a four-days’ trip to Beitstadfiord. The doctor said
he would stay behind at Fort Juliana and employ his time in collecting
insects and in shooting. They then parted, little thinking what was
about to happen. On their return to camp they were horrified to find the
doctor dead. The body was removed to the _Fram_, and then received a
seaman’s funeral in Rice Strait. The doctor’s death was a great blow to
the whole party, and some of the strongest did not recover from it until
months afterwards.

During July the dépôt at Fort Juliana was withdrawn, and preparations
were made to sail north. An attempt was made on the 24th July, but the
_Fram_ could not get beyond Pim Island. Next day, in order to avoid the
pressure of the pack, the ship had to retreat to its winter harbour.

On 4th August another attempt was made to proceed north. Things went
well until the _Fram_ was abreast of Cape Camperdown, but here the ice
compelled them to steer a course more and more to the east. While in
this position, a steamer was seen to issue from Payer Harbour. Sverdrup
at once came to the conclusion that it was looking for Peary, and would
probably have letters from Norway. An attempt was made to meet each
other, but they could not get nearer than about 5 miles. Then the
American ship signalled that she had letters on board for Sverdrup, and
steered off southward. The farthest point reached by the _Fram_ was
about abreast of Cape Hawks. Here she lay in the ice several days, and
at last got free only a few miles north of Cape Sabine.

Sverdrup now decided to go across to Foulke Fiord. There one of Peary’s
ships was found, and it was ascertained that the Norwegian mail had been
left at Payer Harbour.

Foulke Fiord was left on 12th August, and a course was steered for Payer
Harbour to fetch the mail. It was soon seen, however, that it was
impossible to reach it through such masses of ice as were encountered. A
course was tried farther south, but with no better result. Then several
attempts were made along the Greenland side, and across towards Payer
Harbour, but each ended in failure.

After a good deal of deliberation, it was finally decided to make for
Jones Sound. It was a great disappointment that they were unable to
proceed through Kane Basin towards the north of Greenland; and the
failure to reach their letters very much depressed the spirits of the
party.

A course was now set for the walrus-shoals off Northumberland Island,
where twenty-two of the animals were killed to serve as dog-food during
the winter.

Jones Sound was entered on 24th August. A place of anchorage was found
in a fiord a little west of Cone Island. It was afterwards named “Fram
Fiord.” On the night of 28th August this fiord was left, and the _Fram_
proceeded west as far as Havnefiord, where a winter harbour was secured.

After various short trips, Sverdrup with three men set out on 8th
September to put down dépôts of dog-food as far west as possible, so as
to be prepared for long journeys. The water was still open, and the
party went by boat. On the 10th they reached a fiord, afterwards named
“Baadsfiord,” and they formed a dépôt on its eastern side. They now
decided to return to the ship, but found it impossible to row the boat
through a thick layer of snow and slush which had formed on the surface
of the water.

When they saw that there was little chance of being able to take the
boat back to the ship, and that they must wait until ice formed strong
enough to allow them to walk back, they set to work to make a house,
with the boat for a roof. A hole was dug in a mound, and the boat put on
the top with shingle along the sides, and over the whole was put a layer
of snow 2 feet deep.

On 6th October the ice was strong enough to bear, and a start was made
for the _Fram_. On the way they met a relief party from the ship, and
learned that Braskerud was dead. He had caught a bad cold in Jones
Sound, and had been ill two weeks with a cough and great difficulty in
breathing. It is probable that both he and the doctor had suffered from
pneumonia.

The time for the autumn sledge-journeys had now arrived, and it was
Sverdrup’s intention to make a dépôt at as great a distance to the west
as possible. Various preparations had to be made, but these were
completed in time to let Sverdrup with five men set out on 13th October.
During this trip a double tent was made use of for the first time, and
proved very successful. The inner tent was made of thin cotton lining
material. There was a space of about a foot in height between the two
tents, and a space of 3 or 4 inches between the vertical walls.

Two days were spent in the house at Baadsfiord, from which they again
set out on 18th October. On the 19th they were stopped by open water
beyond Stormkap, and here formed a dépôt in which was also placed the
most of the meat from two bears which had been shot on the way. In
returning they explored a large fiord between Baadsfiord and Stormkap,
where they shot twenty-six polar oxen. The fiord received the
appropriate name of “Moskusfiord.” It was a large task to carry all the
meat to the ship, but after several trips it was completed by the 18th
of November.

In Sverdrup’s opinion, Eskimo dogs should be fed once every day. He
believes that if well fed and protected from cold in suitable kennels
there is no reason why so many should die during the winter. He found
his dogs in full vigour even at the darkest period of the year.

The winter passed in making preparations for the spring journeys. On the
23rd February 1900 four men set out for the westernmost dépôt, where
they were to leave their loads. When they reached it they found it
destroyed by bears, and nearly the whole of the food eaten. Sverdrup now
decided that a man should remain at the dépôt as long as any
sledge-parties were travelling west of it. Bay at once applied for the
post, and was appointed “Commandant of Bjorneborg.” Here he lived alone
for three months.

On the 20th March the great spring expedition started off. On the 17th a
party of four had left for the dépôt. The larger party consisted of six
men, who were ultimately to form three parties of two men each. The dogs
numbered fifty-five. The provisions consisted of bread, butter, sugar,
coffee, chocolate, pea-soup, vegetables, figs, French plums, raisins,
nectarines, egg-powder, groats, potatoes, meat-fat, pemmican, golden
syrup, and fish-flour. The dietary allowed each man per day weighed
2-1/5 lb. The loads amounted to over 670 lb. each.

At Bjorneborg the provisions for the different parties were weighed and
arranged, and then a start was made westward. The first fiord west of
Bjorneborg was named Gaasefiord, from the number of geese found in it.
When crossing the second fiord, three walruses were shot, and after
feeding the dogs well, the remainder was left as a dépôt of dog-food.
This fiord was named “Hvalrosfiord,” or “Walrus Fiord.” Next day they
reached a sound where huge masses of ice were grinding round in a
tearing current. Sverdrup had never seen waters so absolutely impossible
to navigate as he saw here. The difficulties which had to be overcome
before it could be passed were so great that it received the name of
“Helvedesporten,” or “Hell Gate.” On one occasion three men, eighteen
dogs, and three sledges with their loads fell into a hole in the snow 12
feet deep, but by great good fortune no serious damage was done. On
another occasion one of the sledges slipped over a wall of ice into the
sea. The dogs would have been carried with it, but the traces broke. One
of the men, with a rope round his waist, had to be lowered down, and the
load and sledge were ultimately hauled up.

The land at last began to trend to the north-east, and the point was
named “Land’s End.” The whole of the west coast of Ellesmere Land was
subsequently called “King Oscar Land.” Next day a high mountain crag
appeared above the horizon away to the north. It was named “Store
Bjornekap,” or “Great Bear Cape.” Still farther to the north another
cape appeared, and was named “Little Bjornekap,” or “Little Bear Cape.”
Near here a bear was shot, and served as a good feed for the dogs.

On the 31st March the returning party retraced their steps. Sverdrup
with three others proceeded westward. At the parting a bottle of brandy
was produced, but somewhat to their astonishment they found it solid,
and it had to be poked from the bottle with a stick. The temperature was
44° below zero.

The party now met loose snow, and during the first day made only 9
miles; during the second day only 8 miles were covered. In the evening
of the second day they fortunately killed a bear, and decided to camp
for a day or two while the meat lasted, in the hope of the travelling
and weather improving. On this and many other occasions the liver of the
bear was offered to the dogs, but they will touch it only when
excessively hungry. It has been a common belief that the bear’s liver is
poisonous to both men and dogs, but Sverdrup has eaten it many times
without feeling any disagreeable consequences. He never found it in the
least unpalatable when care had been taken to remove the gall-bag as
quickly as possible. The last of the bear-meat was consumed on the 7th
April, and next day a fresh start was made. A high mountain in the west
had been visible for some time, and Sverdrup formed the opinion that it
was not part of Ellesmere Land. He thought that a sound probably passed
north between Ellesmere Land and this new land, and later exploration
proved that this opinion was correct. The high headland received the
name of “Cape Sydvest,” or “Cape South-West.”

Beyond the headland bare ice was met, and travelling became much faster.
On 16th April, while Sverdrup was standing on a pressure-ridge scanning
the country, he suddenly became aware that he was looking at land far
away in the west. A new plan was at once formed: Isachsen with Hassel
were to visit the new land in the west, while Sverdrup and Fosheim were
to continue to the north along what was afterwards named “Axel Heiberg
Land.”

Isachsen decided to leave behind a small dépôt where he was to place a
letter on his return. During the first day Sverdrup and Fosheim covered
18 miles. Next day they had strong wind and drift, and as a consequence
went out of their course and found themselves far inland among some
sand-hills, and all the time they had thought they were driving on the
sea-ice. A little farther to the north they experienced very severe
weather, and were compelled to remain at one camp five days.

On the 2nd May they found themselves in latitude 80° 31½′, and the coast
was trending due north. The tracks of reindeer were seen on several
occasions, but not the animals themselves. There was now no extra food
for the dogs, and it became evident that their strength was failing. The
latitude of 80° 55′ was reached on 5th May, and here they decided to
erect a cairn and then return. It is remarkable that along the whole of
this coast Sverdrup saw nothing approaching to palæocrystic ice.

As food was getting short, the return journey had to be made with all
possible speed. A short record was found from Isachsen, who had returned
to his dépôt on 28th April. Sverdrup and Fosheim reached it on 16th May.
Before they arrived at Land’s End, a bear was shot, and was much needed
for the dogs. As had been prearranged, Baumann left a record in a cairn,
with a description and sketch-map of a passage across the land to Goose
Fiord. Sverdrup attempted this passage, but in foggy weather he missed
the way, and found himself suddenly stopped by a high wall of ice, which
entirely cut off the valley. On investigation, however, a tunnel made by
a river was found to lead into the glacier. Rather than drive all the
way back, it was decided to try the tunnel. From the roof hung gigantic
blocks of ice, and along the walls were grotto after grotto. It was a
fairy scene, but fear-inspiring as well as beautiful. The tunnel led
through to the valley on the other side. The remainder of the journey to
Bjorneborg was made without incident.

Bay had now been a hermit three months, and had many adventures with
bears to relate. Sverdrup took him on to the ship, and left Fosheim at
Bjorneborg in Bay’s place.

Before Sverdrup reached the ship a serious fire had taken place on 27th
May. A spark from the galley chimney is supposed to have set the
winter-awning on fire. The flames spread so rapidly that soon the
rigging was on fire, sixteen paraffin-prepared kayaks which were lying
under the awning were totally destroyed, as well as a score of prepared
polar-ox skins and some bear-skins. Several cases of powder were removed
at the last moment. An iron tank containing 50 gallons of spirit could
not be moved, but although the heat melted the tinning on the outside of
the tank, the spirit did not catch fire.

Schei and Peder arrived from their journey on Whitsunday morning. They
had visited North Kent, where they shot some reindeer; and then went to
Buckingham Island and Graham Island. From there they had visited some
fiords in the south of Axel Heiberg Land.

Isachsen and Hassel returned on board on 19th June. On 16th April they
separated from Sverdrup and Fosheim to explore the land seen in the
west. The weather was foggy, and nothing was seen of the land till the
20th April, when they found themselves near the ice-foot. After getting
a general view of the land, they returned to Axel Heiberg Land, where
they arrived on 28th April, and left a record as arranged. They then
travelled south round Cape South-West, and visited some of the fiords in
the south-east. The summer was spent in shooting, dredging, botanising,
and in making short trips to places not far from the ship.

On the 8th August the _Fram_ was able to steam out of its winter harbour
and make its way westward. At the termination of Jones Sound, Cardigan
Strait was entered and the north end reached; but here fast ice was met.
The _Fram_, however, was able to bore its way some distance to the west,
but was finally stopped by the ice and drifted back. Later, the _Fram_
became beset, and was not liberated till the 15th September. Next day
they were due west of Graham Island. A course was now steered for Jones
Sound, and a winter harbour was found in Goose Fiord. The valleys in
this neighbourhood were well stocked with game, and large numbers of
polar oxen were shot for food during the winter.

On the 18th October, Sverdrup and Olsen left the ship, equipped for ten
days. They were to make an attempt to discover a sound leading north
towards Greely Fiord. The following day, a terrific gale came on, and
while sledging, a gust of wind carried Olsen’s sledge with such violence
against a block of ice that Olsen was shot several yards, and came down
on his shoulder. Olsen thought his arm was dislocated, but Sverdrup
hoped it would soon get right again, and pushed on. The arm, however,
became more and more painful, and they were forced to turn back. The
wind and drift were now in their faces, and Olsen’s sufferings became
very acute. They had passed the previous night at a camp with Baumann
and the mate, who were out shooting, and to this they returned. Olsen
was put into the tent, his clothes taken off, and his arm examined. His
companions felt sure that the shoulder was dislocated, but all their
attempts to put it in again were unavailing. During the night Olsen had
no sleep, and next day the storm was so violent that no move could be
made. On the following day the storm had abated, and Olsen was taken
back to the ship. As soon as Sverdrup arrived on board, some of the
doctor’s books were searched to find out what was to be done with
Olsen’s shoulder. Sverdrup did not dare to give chloroform, but as the
arm was now extremely painful he decided to make Olsen drunk with
brandy. After the patient had taken about half a bottle, an attempt was
made by Fosheim and Simmons to reduce the dislocation, but they failed.
Then Sverdrup and Fosheim tried, and to their great relief the arm
slipped into its socket. Olsen stood the ordeal well. The pain and
excitement had kept him sober, but as soon as the dislocation was put
right he became dead drunk. Next day he was quite himself again.

Winter preparations, such as covering the skylights and making kennels
for the dogs, were now carried out, and various kinds of work in
preparation for spring were started. New sledges, odometers, and
sleeping-bags had to be made; and many articles required repairs. Schei
was set the task of making a new travelling-camera, and did it
successfully.

Wolves made their appearance during the winter, and two were caught in a
trap, and ultimately grew quite tame.

On the 8th April 1901 the long spring journeys started. Sverdrup and
Schei were to investigate whether the new land discovered during the
previous year was separate from Ellesmere Land. Isachsen and Hassel were
to explore the land in the west. The latter party had formed a dépôt at
Cape South-West earlier in the spring, and Sverdrup had also formed a
dépôt. Baumann and Stolz were to carry out a surveying expedition.

Sverdrup first explored several of the fiords which run northward from
Baumann Fiord. From Troldfiord they passed over the land, and reached a
large fiord running east and west. A course was made for the north-west
point, from which a waterway was seen extending northward as far as the
eye could reach. To this was given the name of “Heureka Sound.” In the
north was seen a high, bluish-black, precipitous promontory, which was
called “Blaamander,” or “The Blue Man,” and the course was set on this.
Farther north it was decided that Fosheim and the mate, who were still
with Sverdrup, should follow the east side of the sound, while Sverdrup
and Schei should follow the west side. From this point, far to the
north, rose a mountain crag which appeared like an island. It was later
found that it was not an island, but that large fiords penetrated the
land towards the north and east. From there, Greely Fiord runs
north-east.

Sverdrup and Schei now made for the west coast, which they followed
northward over rough ice and in bad weather. They finally reached a
point which was termed “Smorgrautberget.” From here they received the
impression that a large sea opened out to the north-west, and that Axel
Heiberg Land was separated from Grant Land by a sound which was named
“Fridtjof Nansen Sound.”

On 13th May the return journey was begun. Not far south of the most
northern point reached they found Eskimo ruins. Near Blaamander they
crossed to the east coast. On the journey north, and also on the way
south, they encountered wolves. A pack of twelve attacked a dog-team,
and one of the dogs was severely bitten before the wolves were driven
off. On the return journey several fiords were explored and examined
geologically by Schei, who was always on the look-out for fossils. The
_Fram_ was reached on 18th June.

Baumann and Stolz had returned on 28th May, Isachsen and Hassel on 6th
June, and Fosheim and the mate on 13th June.

The first two had seen a herd of three deer, and had shot a good many
polar oxen, a bear with two cubs, and two wolves. They surveyed a large
tract in the neighbourhood of Baumann Fiord.

After leaving Sverdrup, Fosheim and the mate made for Greely Fiord,
which they followed eastwards in order to ascertain whether a fiord or
sound cut into the land in a southerly direction. It was thought
possible that such a fiord might communicate with Bay Fiord.

One running to the south was found, and followed to its head. Instead of
going back the long way they had come, an attempt was made to cross the
land to Heureka Sound, but after driving nearly 12 miles they found the
way impassable, and had to return. Part of the Bay Fiord was explored on
the way south, and then they shaped their course for the _Fram_.

Isachsen and Hassel reached Cape South-West on their outward journey on
13th April. They found the cache scattered about in all directions, but
little of the food was missing. It was supposed that this had been the
work of polar oxen.

They left Cape South-West on 14th April with loads of about 550 lb. on
each sledge, and reached the new land on the 17th. A sound was
discovered between the new land and North Cornwall, which was already
known. It received the name of “Hendriksen’s Sound.” They passed through
this sound, and reached the south-west point of what was afterwards
named “Amund Ringnes Land,” and followed the coast northward. On the
23rd April, land was seen in the west and south-west, and they decided
to drive west. They arrived next day at Nathorst Peninsula, and this new
land received the name of “Ellef Ringnes Land.” The sound between this
and the land they had left was named after Hassel. Towards the west and
south-west still another land was seen, and was called “King Christian’s
Land.” The sound between the two latter was called “Danish Sound,” and
they passed through this and drove north. At the most northern point of
the land, the trend began to be east and then south. They followed the
coast-line until 20th May, when they saw land in the east, which proved
to be “Amund Ringnes Land,” the northern point of which they reached on
24th May. They then made for Axel Heiberg Land, and reached Cape
South-West on 29th May.

On the new land they had explored they saw reindeer and ptarmigan, and
the tracks of bears, foxes, wolves, and hares. They reached the _Fram_
on 6th June.

The summer work was now commenced, such as dredging and botanising, and
a trip was made to North Devon.

As summer advanced, the party became anxious about the prospects of the
_Fram_ getting free from Gassefiord, as it was intended to return to
Norway that year. An attempt was made to bore the ice on 12th August,
but it ended in failure. On the 26th the _Fram_ advanced a thousand
yards, but on the 27th it could only make three ship’s lengths. By 5th
September the ship had gone about 10 miles through the ice, but some 6
miles of ice was still between it and the open water. They had now to
give up all hope of getting free that year, and had to make preparations
to spend their fourth polar night.

Again the winter was passed in hard work for the coming spring. It was
intended, in case a ship might come into Jones Sound in search of the
_Fram_, to build cairns and leave a record of the expedition on Cone
Island, and on different points in the sound. It was also intended to
send a sledge-expedition to Beechy Island, partly to correct their
chronometers, and partly to look at the dépôts left there half a century
before. Schei and Sverdrup were to go north and map the tracts west of
Greely Fiord.

On 1st April 1902 three parties went off. The patent dog-food was nearly
finished, and they had to carry stockfish instead, which weighed much
heavier. Trusting to being able to obtain bears, Sverdrup did not take
blubber nor meat. No bears were obtained when expected, and the dogs
soon became very weak. It was not until the 10th April that a bear was
seen and shot.

Instead of travelling over the heavy ice towards Smorgrautberget,
Sverdrup kept to the east shore, and then steered straight across Greely
Fiord to Blaafjeld, in the south of Grant Land. They kept to the east
side of a pressure-ridge which stretched straight across the fiord, and
seemed to be the boundary between the fast ice of the previous year on
Greely Fiord and the drift-ice outside.

When near land, the ice became heavy, and it was with great difficulty
that advance could be made. West of Blaafjeld they passed into a fiord
where a large number of hares were seen. It was the pairing season, and
they were scampering about in all directions. Sverdrup supposed they had
lost their heads from love, and he slyly remarks that this is a thing
which may happen to others besides hares. The fiord was named
“Harefiord.”

On 30th April they set off from the headland on the west side of the
fiord. In the evening they camped near the most westerly foreland they
had seen the previous year from Smorgrautberget. Next day they reached
another fiord and entered it for a short distance, but as they were
anxious to ascertain the extent of land to the west they did not venture
to its head. Next day the land trended about due north, and when the
weather cleared land was seen to the north-west, and they recognised
they were in a bay. A straight line was made for the part farthest off,
which was reached on the 6th May. Sverdrup here ascended a height, and
found that he was on an island separated by a narrow sound from the land
in the east. From a point about 3 miles north of the camp, the land
turned to the north-east. North and west of this land, only sea could be
made out. To the south was Axel Heiberg Land. Sverdrup built a cairn to
mark their farthest north, as he had now decided to return. The latitude
was found to be 81° 40′.

In returning, a course was made across Fridtjof Nansen Sound to the
northern extremity of Axel Heiberg Land. In passing south they proved
that Schei Island was really an island, and not a peninsula. Some polar
oxen were shot and the dogs feasted, and the way south was covered at a
good speed. When Bay Fiord was reached, they entered it and explored it
to its head, where they arrived on 29th May.

The _Fram_ was reached on 16th June, after an absence of seventy-seven
days.

Isachsen, Fosheim, and Hassel had left the records as arranged, and had
returned to the ship on 18th April; and on the 23rd April, Baumann,
Fosheim, and Raanes started for Beechy Island, which was reached on 4th
May. It is really not an island, but constitutes the south-west corner
of North Devon. The dépôt was found destroyed. The cutter _Mary_, which
had been left there, was a wreck; whether the work of Eskimo or
seal-catchers could not be said with certainty. They discovered that
Arthur Strait was really a fiord. The return journey was started on the
6th May, and the _Fram_ was reached on the 20th May.

On the 12th April, Isachsen and Bay made a trip to North Devon, and did
not return till 21st May. On 25th May, Isachsen and Simmons set out to
examine a bed of coal discovered by Baumann, and returned on 9th June.

The work of exploration was now over. The usual summer dredging was
begun, and the geologist hunted for fossils. Olsen managed to fall from
a pressure-ridge and dislocate his other shoulder. This time it was
reduced without the assistance of brandy.

On 20th July the _Fram_, with steam up, began to leave her winter
harbour, but it was not until the 6th August that she entered Jones
Sound. On the 10th the _Fram_ was in Baffin’s Bay, heading for the
Devil’s Thumb. Godhavn was reached on the 17th August, and here they
were well received. They left on the 21st, and although there was a
break-down of the engine, Norway was sighted on 18th September.
Stavanger was reached on the 19th, and soon they received a most
enthusiastic reception wherever they went. The owners of the expedition
incurred expenses to the amount of £12,014.

This expedition, although it unfortunately was prevented from carrying
out its original plans, did important work. It not only explored the
whole of Jones Sound, but discovered the existence of large islands
extending toward the north. The fact that no palæocrystic ice was met
with in this region makes it highly probable that land exists still
farther to the north.[2]

-----

[2] The discovery of Crocker Land and Bradley Land proves that this view
was correct.




                              CHAPTER XII
                     ITALIAN EXPEDITION (1899−1900)


Between the discovery of Franz-Josef Land by the Austro-Hungarian
Expedition and the expedition of the Duke of the Abruzzi a good deal of
exploration had taken place. In 1880 and 1881, Leigh Smith in his yacht
_Eira_ reached Franz-Josef Land without much difficulty, and surveyed
the coast up to Cape Lofley. The _Eira_, when leaving for the second
time, was crushed by the ice near Cape Flora, and sank. The crew built a
wretched hovel in which they passed the winter. In the following summer
they sailed in their boats to Novaya Zemlya, where they were taken on
board a ship which had been sent to their assistance.

In 1894, Jackson, in the _Windward_, built a station at Cape Flora, on
Northbrook Island, and remained there till the autumn of 1897. He made
three expeditions with sledges. In the first two he was prevented from
advancing towards the north by stretches of open sea. He reached 81°
20′. In the third journey he went towards the west, making the circuit
of Alexander Land. He named the most westerly point of the group “Cape
Mary Harmsworth.” The sea to the north was called “Queen Victoria Sea.”

In 1898, Wellman in the _Fridtjof_ landed at Cape Tegethoff, and after
making some discoveries in the eastern part of Franz-Josef Land,
returned home next year in the _Capella_.

The Duke of the Abruzzi left Christiania on board the _Polar Star_ on
12th June 1899. It was his intention to proceed to Emperor Franz-Josef
Land and attempt from there to reach the North Pole.

The expedition was composed of eleven Italians and nine Norwegians. The
ship was a whaler, and had been previously named the _Jason_. It had
been commanded by Captain Evensen, who retained the command by being
appointed captain of the _Polar Star_.

The second in command of the expedition was Umberto Cagni, captain in
the Italian Navy.

Archangel was reached on 30th June. Here 121 dogs were obtained. They
had been brought by Trontheim, who was also employed by Nansen.

Archangel was left on 13th July; the first ice was met on the 17th, and
Northbrook Island was sighted on the 20th July.

The five huts left by Jackson at Cape Flora were visited, and a dépôt of
provisions for eight months was landed, in addition to five tons of
coal.

Cape Flora was left on 26th July, and an attempt was made to pass to the
north through Nightingale Sound, but the passage was blocked by ice.
Next an attempt was made to double Cape Mary Harmsworth, but this also
ended in failure.

Nightingale Sound was again entered on the 28th July, but in the evening
of this day the ship was surrounded by ice-fields, and had to remain
near the northern extremity of Bruce Island three days. On the 1st
August an attempt was made to bore the ice, but the ship advanced only
about 300 yards. Some channels formed on the 3rd and allowed some
progress. On the 5th the whaler _Capella_, with Wellman’s party, was
sighted near Scott Keltie Island, and Wellman and three of his
companions visited the ship.

From this point the _Polar Star_ had open water until it reached
Maria-Elizabeth Island, but here it was stopped by thick ice ahead and
foggy weather. When the fog cleared, a passage was found to the east of
the island, and the _Polar Star_ advanced rapidly northwards, and
reached 82° 4′ to the north-west of Prince Rudolf Island. The _Alert_
reached 82° 27′, the _Polaris_ attained 82° 11′, so that the _Polar
Star_ took third place among the ships which had been navigated towards
the Pole. The _Fram_ reached a much higher latitude, but it was by means
of the drift. From the farthest north reached by the _Polar Star_ the
horizon was carefully observed, but no trace could be found of Petermann
Land and King Oscar Land, which Payer thought he sighted from Cape
Fligely. It was found that the latitude of this cape was 81° 50′ 43″,
and not 82° 5′, as given by Payer.

The _Polar Star_ was now steered towards the south-east to Teplitz Bay,
the most northern bay of Franz-Josef Land, in latitude 81° 47′, where it
went into winter quarters. The bay did not provide a very safe
anchorage, but its position far to the north made it of great importance
for the contemplated sledge-expeditions.

On the 27th August the _Polar Star_ was driven by the pressure of the
ice against the ice fixed to the coast, and heeled over about 13
degrees. When the pressure ceased, she remained in the same position. On
the 7th September the ice pressure again became severe, and the ship was
so seriously damaged that it had to be abandoned.

Steps were at once taken to have the stores landed, and two large
field-tents were erected on the shore to serve as winter quarters.
Outside these a second tent was formed to cover the two field-tents, and
a third tent covered the whole.

A space between the two inner field-tents was occupied on one side by
the kitchen, and on the other by bags and cases containing clothing.
Between the field-tents and the second tent tins of milk were built in
the form of a wall, and between the second and third tents were stored
the provisions likely to be consumed during the winter.

After all these preparations had been completed, an attempt was made to
repair the damaged ship, which still kept its position heeled over in
the ice. The water which had leaked into the ship was pumped out, and as
far as possible the damaged parts were repaired with tarpaulin and
boards.

During the winter preparations were made for the long sledge-journey in
the spring. On the 23rd December the Duke of the Abruzzi went out with
some of his party in order to train the dogs to draw sledges. They drove
to the bottom of the bay, and then turned back. On the return journey a
storm came on, and the way was lost. Instead of keeping on the ice of
the bay, they wandered unknowingly up on the island, and were only made
aware of the fact when two sledges with their dogs, as well as the Duke
and Captain Cagni, fell from the glacier down to the bay, a height of
some 23 feet. Fortunately, neither was hurt. Owing to the drifting snow
and the darkness, great difficulty was experienced in regaining the
tent. When it was reached, it was found that several of the party were
frost-bitten. The Duke and Captain Cagni had suffered most. The
circulation in the terminal joints of two of the Duke’s fingers of the
left hand could not be restored.

Christmas and the beginning of the New Year were celebrated with the
utmost enthusiasm. Fireworks consisting of rockets and fiery fountains,
salutes from the small gun, and bonfires of wood steeped in petroleum,
all united to form a striking scene in a land far removed from
civilisation.

With the beginning of the New Year the preparations for the
sledge-journey received most attention. The daily ration was fixed at 2
lb. 12 oz. 9 dr., which was about 3 oz. more than the weight used by
Nares and Greely. It consisted of biscuit, tinned meat, pemmican,
butter, milk, Liebig’s extract, desiccated vegetables, Italian paste,
sugar, salt, coffee, tea, and onions.

The lamps used were made on the Primus system, and the cooking-stove was
that designed by Nansen. The quantity of petroleum was fixed at 3 oz. 8
dr. for each man daily. The dog’s ration of pemmican was 1 lb. 1 oz. 10
dr.

The expedition carried flat-bottomed kayaks. These had a framework of
thin rods over which canvas was stretched. Their greatest length was 11
ft. 7 in., their width 2 ft. 6 in., and their height 11 in. They were
provided with a small sail, a pump to empty out water, and a pair of
oars with their rowlocks.

The sledges were 11 ft. 5 in. long, 1 ft. 6 in. wide, and 6½ inches
high. The runners were slightly convex, so as to turn easily; they were
shod with white metal, and wooden runners were strapped beneath them.
The foremost ends of the runners were joined by a bow, to which the
trace was attached, and no nails were used. Each sledge was provided
with a small steel rope, with as many rings as there were dogs to tie
them to, at a distance of 4½ feet from each other.

On 18th January 1900 the Duke had nearly all the first joint of the
middle finger of his left hand amputated, and ten days later a part of
the fourth finger. This rendered him quite unable to take any part in
the sledge-expedition, and Captain Cagni was given the command of it.

This expedition set out on 19th February. As open water reached the
mouth of the bay, it was found necessary to haul the sledges overland to
a point north of Cape Germania. With thirteen sledges drawn by 108 dogs,
the ice-pack was reached on the 21st February. During the first night on
the ice the temperature reached 45.4° F. below zero, and on 23rd
February it reached 61.6° F. below zero. Many of the party were
frost-bitten, and few could sleep. This extreme temperature was more
than they could stand, and Captain Cagni wisely decided to return to
Teplitz Bay, which was reached on the night of the 23rd.

The expedition left again on the 11th March. During the interval various
alterations had been made. It was found necessary to diminish the loads
so as to avoid damage to the sledges when crossing the broken and
difficult ice near the island. The allowance of petroleum was increased
to 6 oz. 5 dr. for each man. Cagni had also observed that it would be
necessary to always send forward at least two men to prepare the way for
the sledges. He therefore decided to take an additional man.

The expedition consisted of three detachments. One was composed of four
men, and the other two of three men each. The four men were to accompany
the party twelve days, and then return. The provisions were so divided
that this party carried the whole of the rations for the ten men during
the twelve days, and also the rations for their own return. The second
detachment carried the rations to last the remainder other twelve days
and their own return. According to this arrangement, the third or
advance party would not begin on their own rations until the
twenty-fifth day, when the second detachment would return.

The entire camp equipment and the clothing for the three detachments
amounted to 978 lb. 13 oz. 8 dr., or nearly 100 lb. per man. The weight
to be carried amounted to the remarkable total of 6718 lb. 9 oz. 13 dr.,
or almost exactly 3 tons. Twelve sledges were used, so that the average
weight for each was 5 cwt. The dogs numbered 103.

On the second departure the expedition was able to travel out of the bay
without having first to drag the sledges overland. On the first day the
temperature was 27.4° F. below zero. An auxiliary detachment accompanied
the party two days.

At first, Captain Cagni set out towards the west, so as to get away from
land, but on the second day he tended a little east of north, so as to
allow for the probable drift towards the west. During the night of the
13th March the temperature fell to 45.4° F. below zero. On the 12th an
advance of 7 miles was made; on the 13th, about 10 miles; but on the
14th the ice-axes had frequently to be used to make a road, and only 3½
miles were covered.

For some days the temperature kept remarkably low. On the morning of the
16th it reached 58° F. below zero. On the 19th it rose to 16.6° F. below
zero, but on the 21st it again fell to 36.4° F. below zero.

On the 21st March, Cagni decided to take three men with him in the third
or advance detachment. He found it necessary to send two men forward to
prepare the way for the sledges. With three men in the detachment, only
one would be left to look after the most of the dogs and sledges. He
therefore decided to send back three men in the first detachment,
instead of four. To meet the extra rations required for the additional
man, he intended to send back the first detachment two days, and the
second detachment four days earlier than originally intended.

The first detachment, composed of Lieutenant Querini, the guide Ollier,
and the engineer Stökken, was sent back on the 23rd March. At this time
the expedition was about 45 miles distant from the island which had been
seen two days previously. Nothing more was ever heard of this
detachment. The Duke came to the conclusion that an accident must have
happened. It is quite possible, however, if not probable, that the party
was drifted so far out of the proper course that the island could not be
reached before all the food had been consumed. It will be seen that the
third detachment failed to make headway against this drift, and was
saved only by giving up the attempt to reach Prince Rudolf Island, and
by making its way towards the islands in the south.

Some of the dogs caused a great deal of trouble. One had deserted on two
occasions. It was a fine, strong animal, and it would have been a pity
to kill it. The doctor undertook to tame it and prevent it deserting. He
secured it with two chains and a steel-wire rope. In spite of this, it
was found trying to escape, and the doctor gave it a severe beating.
During the night the dog broke the two chains, and in some incredible
way managed to get free. As if to be revenged on its tamer, it made a
hole in the doctor’s tent and stole all the butter which was to serve
for the detachment’s breakfast.

Towards the end of March the temperature was still very low, and Captain
Cagni suffered greatly from one of his forefingers which had already
been twice frost-bitten. The sleeping-bag slowly filled with snow formed
by the frozen moisture of the breath. During the night their bodies
gradually thawed this snow, and they rose in a cold bath in the morning.
Soon after getting up, the moisture froze again into a mass of ice. On
27th and 28th March the temperature was more than 40° F. below zero.

On the 28th March, Captain Cagni was able to take an observation for
latitude, and was astonished to find that it was only 83°. He had
calculated that it ought to be about 83° 50′. The drift to the south
must therefore have been considerable.

On 31st March the second detachment, composed of Dr. Cavalli, Cardenti,
and Savoie, was sent back. It received rations for eighteen days, and
had twenty-four dogs. Considerable difficulties were met with on the
return journey, but the detachment reached the coast of the island on
the 17th April. Here a broad channel of water prevented them from
reaching land. A kayak was repaired, and Cardenti was sent in it across
the channel. He reached the glacier face, but it took him two hours to
ascend to the top by making steps with his ice-axe in a crevasse. He
then was unable to find his way to the tent in Teplitz Bay. After
wandering about on the island all night, he saw the tent when daylight
dawned. A boat was at once dispatched to bring the doctor and his
companion.

Meanwhile the party in Teplitz Bay had been anxiously awaiting the
arrival of the first detachment. When the second arrived and reported
that the first had left seven days before them, all hope was practically
given up, although a relief party was sent out to make a search in the
neighbourhood of the islands discovered by Nansen.

Cagni and his three companions set out after the departure of the second
detachment. They had forty-nine dogs and six sledges. The load on each
sledge varied from 410 to 485 lb. On the first day they made a splendid
march of about 18 miles. With the beginning of April the temperature
rose, and life became less miserable, but the higher temperature was
accompanied by a strong wind. On the 3rd and 4th April this high wind
and snow-drift confined the party to their tent. They set out again on
the 5th, but found great movement going on in the ice. Channels were
constantly opening and closing, and pressure-ridges were being formed
all around. One of the sledges broke through the ice, and was dragged
out with difficulty.

It was part of the scheme of the expedition to gradually kill a certain
number of the dogs in order to assist in feeding the others. At first
none of the dogs cared to eat the flesh; later the few which ate it
waited till it was frozen; but ultimately the whole of the survivors
devoured it with even more greediness than pemmican, and while it was
still warm.

On the 7th April the latitude was found to be 83° 54′. This was near the
latitude calculated by Cagni, so that the drift to the south had almost
ceased. The recent tracks of two bears were seen on this date. On the
8th April channels were crossed by means of bridges built of large
blocks of ice detached from the hummocks.

Cagni was still suffering greatly from his frost-bitten forefinger,
which the doctor had generously promised to amputate when Cagni returned
to Teplitz Bay. On the 12th April a huge pressure-ridge, which Cagni
estimated to be from 36 to 45 feet in height, was seen to form about 100
yards from the camp. On this day they travelled a distance estimated at
22 miles. Next day one of the guides suddenly broke through the ice, and
would have been lost but for the assistance of his companion. Cagni took
half a bath shortly afterwards, and the second guide slipped into the
water with one leg. In spite of these difficulties, the day’s march was
reckoned at 13 miles. These two days, however, greatly exhausted the
dogs, and on the following day only 5 miles were covered.

On the 15th April a snowstorm confined them to the tent. Cagni’s finger
had kept him awake two nights, and he took advantage of the delay to
unbandage it and remove with forceps some of the dead flesh. On this day
a hole was burnt through one of the two saucepans. This was looked upon
as a serious accident, but it occurred to one of the guides to use the
cover as a second bottom, and this fortunately answered fairly well. The
storm lasted till the afternoon of the 17th April. This was the date
originally fixed for the return, but Cagni decided to still push on. At
midday on the 21st April the latitude was found to be 85° 29′. This gave
great encouragement, and determined Cagni to make an effort to break
Nansen’s record. On the 22nd the latitude was 85° 48′; on the 23rd it
was 86° 4′; and on the 24th it was 86° 18′.

Cagni had now beaten Nansen’s record of 86° 14′, but he decided to still
push on. About six o’clock they were stopped by a large channel, and
here it was decided to return. The latitude was found to be the record
one of 86° 34′. Great praise is due to Cagni for his pluck and
determination under difficulties which would have made most men give up
in despair. Coming from a country which enjoys a warm climate, the
severe temperatures must have caused the party to suffer greatly, but
added to this in Cagni’s case was the torture he had to undergo from his
mortifying finger.

The return journey was begun on the 25th with four sledges, thirty-four
dogs, provisions for thirty days, 200 rations of pemmican for the men
and 300 rations for the dogs. On the first day’s march the party covered
the remarkable distance of 29 miles. The outward track assisted greatly
on the return. The progress at first was very good; in four days the
party advanced 1 degree towards the south.

On the 2nd May, Cagni improved the condition of his finger, which had
again pained him greatly. The glands in the armpit were also inflamed.
When the finger was unbandaged, it was found to be greatly swollen. With
a lancet in his left hand, Cagni opened the swelling and gave outlet to
a large quantity of matter. After taking away a covering of dead flesh,
a piece of bone was found sticking out of the wound. Cagni had only
scissors to work with, but with these he managed to cut off the
projection. The whole proceeding occupied him fully two hours. His
courage was beyond praise.

On the 8th May the latitude was found to be 83° 42′. On this date the
temperature had risen to freezing-point. On the 10th, Cagni discovered
that he had drifted about 8 degrees of longitude to the west of Teplitz
Bay. In the latitude he was in this represented about 57 geographical
miles. He therefore steered a course more to the east. In spite of this
new direction, Cagni found two days later that he was still farther to
the west. He now hesitated to steer more to the east in case his
chronometers had been going more slowly, due to the rise in temperature.
This decision had an important bearing on the future trials of the
party.

On the 18th May it was found that though the party had been travelling
nine days towards the south-east, they were still on the same meridian.
Channels now became so frequent that the course was difficult to keep,
and the weather became stormy and foggy. On the 23rd May latitude 82° 1′
was reached, so that the party was now nearly on a level with the
northern part of Prince Rudolf Island. The drift was, however, so great
that during the next six days only about 10 miles were covered towards
the island. Provisions were now running short, and both the physical and
mental condition of the men began to deteriorate. According to the
longitude, they were still 6 degrees west of Teplitz Bay.

It now became necessary to ferry the sledges and dogs across the
channels on large pieces of ice, and progress became very slow. After
struggling desperately towards the east, it was found on the 7th June
that they were farther to the west than on the 1st of the month. The
week’s toil had therefore been in vain. This made Cagni come to the wise
decision to give up fighting against the drift, and to proceed
southwards, where he would probably reach islands from which he would
have a better chance of reaching Prince Rudolf Island.

On the second day after setting out to the south, land was sighted, and
turned out to be Harley Island. On the 10th the party found it necessary
to begin eating dog’s flesh. The coast of Harley Island was reached on
13th June, but still they kept to the ice, and followed the coast until
they reached the north-west extremity of the island. They then steered
for Ommaney Island, where they arrived at midnight on the 13th. This
island was crossed, but on attempting to leave it the ice was found
impracticable, and twice the party were forced to retrace their steps.
The third attempt was successful, after great labour among moving ice. A
broad channel was found open along Karl Alexander Land, and Cagni
therefore steered a course in the direction of Cape Germania.

When they awoke on the morning of the 20th June, they found they were
afloat on a floe about 60 yards in diameter. Here they had to remain two
days at the mercy of the wind. Prince Rudolf Island was reached on the
23rd June, and the party arrived at the tent at Teplitz Bay on the same
date.

This sledge-journey by Cagni is the longest ever made over the ice of
the Arctic Ocean before that of Dr. Cook. Starting from a comparatively
low latitude, he yet was able to surpass the record made by Nansen. He
had, of course, advantages which Nansen did not possess: he had a base
to fall back upon, and he had the assistance of other two detachments;
but on the other hand he had to start from a much lower latitude. The
achievement of the Italians is one of which any country might be proud.

Steps were now taken to free the ship from the ice, which was from 10
feet to 18 feet thick. Holes were drilled in this ice along one side of
the ship, and into these holes guncotton was placed and exploded. All
their efforts at first were of little avail, but they eventually
succeeded in righting the ship. A channel 180 yards long had next to be
blasted in order to get the ship out of the bay. In forming this channel
nearly all the explosives were exhausted when it was completed on 10th
August. The provisions and equipment were now put on board, and
everything being ready on 16th August, the _Polar Star_, which was still
seaworthy, left Teplitz Bay on the return journey.

Cape Flora was reached on 31st August, after considerable difficulties
with the ice on the passage south. There was still a faint hope that the
missing detachment might be here, but no trace of it was found. As a
final precaution, provisions sufficient for twenty men during eight
months were left here; a still larger quantity had been left at Teplitz
Bay.

On the 2nd September the _Polar Star_ escaped from the drift-ice; on the
5th the rugged mountains of Norway were in view, and Tromsö was reached
on the 6th.

Although this expedition added no new land to our maps, the results were
important. It proved that a ship could be taken to the northern part of
Franz-Josef Archipelago, and that a properly equipped sledge-expedition
could travel a distance of 5° of latitude over the ice of the Arctic
Ocean.

Franz-Josef Archipelago has since been visited by two Polar expeditions
known as the “Ziegler Expeditions,” but these have added little to our
previous knowledge.




[Illustration: CHART OF NORTHERN PART OF GREENLAND.]




                              CHAPTER XIII
                    PEARY’S EXPEDITIONS (1886−1909)


Commander R. E. Peary is the most persevering and the most daring of all
Arctic explorers. He tells how he was induced to take an active interest
in Arctic exploration. An old book-store in Washington was a favourite
haunt of his, and one evening he there came across a paper on the Inland
Ice of Greenland, and found the subject so interesting that he followed
it up. He consulted various authorities, but found very conflicting
statements. He therefore determined to visit Greenland and investigate
the matter himself. He was then a lieutenant in the United States Navy.

The Navy Department having granted his application for leave, he made
the necessary arrangements, and left Sydney on the steam-whaler _Eagle_
in May 1886.

Arriving at Godhavn on 6th June, he left the whaler, and made
preparations to explore the Inland Ice from the neighbourhood of Disco
Bay. He was delayed two weeks at Godhavn by the ice before he could
embark for Ritenbenk, at the head of the bay.

On the 23rd June he left Ritenbenk with Christian Maigaard, who was
Assistant-Governor there, and eight natives, and made for Pakitsok
Fiord. The head of the fiord was reached on the 25th, and on the 28th
everything had been carried up to the ice-cap.

Peary’s sledging equipment had been made under his own supervision. He
had two 9-foot sledges, 13 inches wide, made of hickory, steel, and
hide, on a modified Hudson Bay pattern. With drag-ropes and lashings
each weighed 23 lb. He carried jacketed alcohol-stoves, 9-foot
double-ended ash alpenstocks with steel point and chisel, rubber
creepers, snow-shoes, and ski. His rations consisted of tea, sugar,
condensed milk, hard bread, pemmican, cranberry jam, baked beans, Liebig
extract, and an experimental mixture of meat, biscuit, and desiccated
potato.

The natives left the party at the edge of the ice-cap. On the 29th June,
Peary and Maigaard started due east. A few hours after setting out, a
furious storm came on, and it was deemed advisable to return to the head
of the fiord and wait there till the weather improved.

On the 5th July the storm abated, and Peary and Maigaard set out once
more. They reached the sledges, dug them out of the snow, and started
due east again.

After crossing a network of crevasses, they encountered a series of
lakes which were not frozen hard enough to support them. They had
frequently to wade through a morass of saturated snow.

On the 15th July another storm compelled them to lie up four days at an
elevation of 7525 feet above the sea. This camp was 100 miles from the
margin of the ice-cap, and was the farthest point reached. Only six
days’ provisions were left, and Peary decided to return.

The return journey was made rapidly, but they had several exciting
experiences. On one occasion Maigaard was nearly lost in a crevasse, and
on another Peary was swept away in a glacier stream.

On his return to Ritenbenk, Peary set out for the Noursoak Peninsula,
which he crossed alone to the edge of the Great Kariak Glacier, and then
returned. This journey across the peninsula occupied three days.

From this expedition to Greenland, Peary states that he returned with
the northern bacilli in his system, the Arctic fever in his veins, never
to be eradicated. He was full of enthusiastic plans for accomplishing
the crossing of Greenland. Duty, however, absorbed his energies during
the next few years, and in the meantime Nansen effected the crossing of
Southern Greenland over one of the routes which Peary had suggested.

Peary now fell back on his more ambitious scheme—the determination of
the northern limit of Greenland overland.

He laid his plans before the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences
and other learned bodies, and received their support. He then obtained
eighteen months’ leave, and made the necessary preparations for his
expedition of 1891−92. He approached the Dundee whaling companies and
the Director of the Greenland trade, but they refused to transport his
party to Greenland on any terms. He was therefore compelled to charter a
vessel, but was fortunately successful in raising funds to meet the
greatly increased cost.

Peary and a party of six, which included his wife, left Brooklyn in the
_Kite_ on 6th June 1891. His party consisted of Frederick A. Cook,
surgeon and ethnologist; Langdon Gibson, ornithologist and chief hunter;
Eivind Astrup; John M. Verhoeff, mineralogist and meteorologist; Matthew
Henson, body-servant.

The master of the _Kite_ was Captain Richard Pike, who was a famous
Arctic skipper. It was he who took Greely’s expedition to Lady Franklin
Bay, and he was in command of the _Proteus_ when Lieutenant Garlington
attempted to relieve Greely.

Peary had two whale-boats built for the expedition, and in these it was
intended to return to the Danish settlements from Whale Sound. He also
carried wood for a 12 by 20 feet house.

Godhavn was reached on 27th June, and left on the 29th. A stop was made
at Upernavik, where Peary expected to obtain a kayak and a native
interpreter, but failed to get either.

No obstruction to the _Kite’s_ progress was met until about 16 miles
north of the Duck Islands. Here the dreaded Melville Bay pack was
encountered, and the _Kite_ after boring her way from the 2nd till the
4th July was completely beset, and did not escape till the 17th.

On the 11th July the ice slackened a little, and the _Kite_ made
attempts to forge ahead. While at this work a large cake of ice struck
the rudder, jamming it hard over, and tearing the wheel from the hands
of the two men on duty. One of the men was thrown clear over the wheel,
and the next instant the iron tiller had caught Peary’s leg between it
and the deck-house, and snapped both bones just above the ankle. He was
immediately carried to the cabin, where his leg was set.

This was an extremely serious accident for Peary, and a man with less
determination would have given up the expedition and returned home. This
idea did not seem to occur to Peary. Even with a broken leg at this
critical period, he decided that everything must go on.

It was his intention to secure a winter camp on the north shore of
Inglefield Gulf; but the _Kite_ met unbroken ice, and was ultimately run
into McCormick Bay. Here a site for the house was soon selected, and
preparations were at once made to land provisions and stores.

On the 26th July work was commenced on the house. During the delay in
Melville Bay pack, Peary had the wood cut and fitted, and now it had
only to be nailed together and erected.

The interior dimensions of the house were to be 21 feet in length, 12
feet in width, and 8 feet in height from floor to ceiling. It consisted
of an inner and an outer shell, separated by an air-space, formed by the
frames of the house, and varying from 10 inches at the sides to over 3
feet in the centre of the roof.

On the outside of the frames was attached the outer air-tight shell
composed of a sheathing of closely fitting boards and two thicknesses of
tarred paper. To the inside of the frames was fastened the inner shell,
composed of thick trunk boards, and made air-tight by pasting all the
joints with heavy brown paper. This inner shell was lined throughout
with heavy blankets.

To still further protect it, a wall was built entirely around the house,
about 5 feet distant from it. The foundation of this wall was composed
of stones, turf, and empty barrels. Above this, the wooden boxes
containing tinned supplies were piled in regular courses in such a way
that the contents could easily be reached. From the top of these, canvas
was stretched to the side of the house so as to form a corridor.

When the snow came, a wall of this was built outside of the other, and
the roof of the house was also thickly covered with snow.

On the 27th July, Peary was taken ashore, strapped to a plank, and
placed in a tent near the site of the house, so that he might supervise
the work.

The _Kite_ departed for the south on the 30th July, and Peary and his
party were left to their own resources.

Near at hand rose cliffs of a reddish colour, and this fact induced
Peary to name his house “Red Cliff House.” Its position was found to be
77° 40′ north latitude, and 70° 40′ west longitude. It was therefore
about half-way between the Arctic Circle and the North Pole.

On the 12th August, Dr. Cook, Verhoeff, Astrup, and Gibson were sent to
Herbert, Northumberland, and Hakluyt Islands. They left provisioned for
fourteen days. The object of the journey was to obtain birds from the
loomeries, to make plans of Eskimo houses and villages, to communicate
with the natives and obtain from them furs and clothing. They were also
to try and induce a family of natives to settle near Red Cliff House.

They returned on 18th August with 130 guillemots, and also brought an
Eskimo family, consisting of a man, his wife, and two children, with a
kayak and harpoon, a sledge and a dog. They had shot a small walrus near
Herbert Island, and had towed it to Cape Cleveland, a little over 2
miles from the house. Several other walruses were obtained before the
end of the month.

On the 4th September the entire party, with the exception of Henson, set
out for the head of McCormick Bay with supplies intended for a dépôt to
be established on the Inland Ice in the neighbourhood of the Humboldt
Glacier.

On the 5th September, Astrup went up the slopes to the ice-cap to select
the best route for carrying up the provisions. He returned with a
favourable report, and estimated the distance to the ice-cap at less
than 4 miles.

On the 6th September, Astrup, Gibson, Verhoeff, and Cook started up the
bluffs with loads varying from 52 to 58 lb., and towards night on the
same day they carried up a second load. On the 7th the last loads were
taken up, and Astrup, Gibson, and Verhoeff, who were to form the Inland
Ice party, remained at the ice-cap, while the others returned to Red
Cliff House.

This Inland Ice party returned to Red Cliff on 12th September, and
reported that the attempt to establish a dépôt had been a failure. Owing
to the presence of deep soft snow, it was found that not more than one
sledge could be dragged at a time, and on the 8th September the party
advanced only 1 mile. On the 9th they were kept in camp by a snowstorm
and high wind. On the 10th they advanced 1 mile by noon, and as there
was no prospect of better sledging, they deposited one of the
sledge-loads on a nunatak at an elevation of 2600 feet above sea-level,
and returned to Red Cliff without their sledges or sleeping-gear.

On 22nd September, Peary sent Astrup and Gibson back to the Inland Ice
to study the condition of travel as far north-east as possible. They
dragged their sledges five days, and attained an altitude of 4600 feet;
but owing to snow-squalls, high winds, and hard hauling, they then
decided to return.

During October many Eskimo arrived at Red Cliff, and from this time
onwards various parties were coming and going all through the winter.
Some came from Cape York, nearly 200 miles away. Several of the women
were engaged to make fur clothing for the party.

During the winter Peary kept his party busy making sledges, odometers,
and various other articles required for the spring sledge-journey.

Peary devised and cut the patterns for the suits and sleeping-bags.
These were made from the skins of the deer shot by Peary’s men. The
skins were stretched and dried at Red Cliff, and the chewing was done by
the Eskimo women. This latter process makes the skins thoroughly soft
and pliable. A skin is folded with the hair inside, and is chewed along
the fold; then another fold is made, and the process is repeated until
the whole skin has been carefully chewed. After this, it is scraped and
worked with a blunt instrument. It takes two women about a day to chew a
big buck-skin, and they usually require to give their jaws a rest every
alternate day.

Peary took a series of photographs of seventy-five Eskimo, and Dr. Cook
took the anthropometrical measurements. It may here be mentioned that
Peary’s photographic work was excellently done, and added very much to
the value of his explorations.

On 18th April 1892, Peary started on a trip round Inglefield Gulf. The
purpose of the journey was to complete the necessary complement of dogs
for the ice-cap march, to purchase furs and materials for the equipment,
and as far as practicable map the shores of the gulf. Peary was
accompanied by his wife. He returned on 24th April, having in the short
space of one week made a sledge-journey of some 250 miles.

During the month of April most of the supplies for the great journey
over the ice-cap had been carried up to the edge of the ice. On the last
day of April, Dr. Cook, Gibson, Astrup, and five Eskimo left Red Cliff
with two sledges and twelve dogs, dragging the last of the supplies.
Peary and Henson followed on the 3rd May with the remaining eight dogs
and a large dog-sledge.

The three sledges used by Peary on this journey consisted of two long,
broad wooden runners curved at both ends, with standards supporting
light but strong cross-bars. The largest sledge was 13 feet long and 2
feet wide, with runners 4 inches wide, and standards 6 inches high. It
was composed entirely of wood, horn, and raw-hide lashings. It weighed
48 lb., and carried easily a load of 1000 lb.

The second sledge was 11 feet long and 2 feet wide, with 3½-inch runners
and 6-inch standards. It weighed 35 lb., and carried a load of 500 lb.

The third sledge, made by Astrup, was 10 feet long and 16 inches wide,
with 3-inch runners and 2-inch standards. It weighed 13 lb., and carried
a load of 400 lb.

The clothing consisted of a hooded deer-skin coat weighing 5¼ lb., a
hooded seal-skin coat weighing 2½ lb., a pair of dog-skin knee-trousers
weighing 3-9/16 lb., seal-skin boots with woollen socks and fur soles
weighing 2 lb., and an under-shirt; total, about 13 lb. With various
combinations of this outfit, Peary could keep perfectly warm and yet not
get into a perspiration, in temperatures from +40° F. to −50° F.,
whether at rest, or walking, or dragging a sledge.

Peary had twenty dogs for the journey, but one died from the fatal
_piblockto_, at the edge of the ice-cap. His dog-food consisted of
pemmican.

The provisions included pemmican, butter, Liebig extract, biscuit,
condensed milk, compressed pea-soup, compressed tea, and extract of
coffee. The daily ration was 2½ lb. per man.

From the edge of the ice-cap the sledges had to be dragged up one
snow-slope and down another for a distance of 15 miles, before reaching
the gradual slope of the true Inland Ice. This point was not reached
until the 15th May.

Peary took a true north-east course, and hoped to clear the heads of the
Humboldt, Petermann, and Sherard-Osborn indentations. From this point,
two short marches of 5 and 7 miles brought them to an elevation of 5000
feet, and early in the third march the highest summits of the Whale
Sound land disappeared, and they found that they were descending. They
had passed over the divide between Whale Sound and Kane Basin, and were
on the descent towards the basin of the Humboldt Glacier. This third
march was 12 miles, and the fourth was 20, and the distant mountain-tops
of the land between Rensselaer Harbour and the south-eastern angle of
Humboldt Glacier rose into view in the north-west.

On the fifth day they covered 20 miles over a gently undulating and
gradually descending surface. On the sixth march the surface became much
more hummocky, and Peary thought it advisable to deflect about 5 miles
to the eastward. At the end of this march there were signs of an
approaching storm, and a snow igloo was built for shelter.

The storm lasted forty-eight hours, and it took a long time to dig out
the sledges, which had been completely buried in snow-drifts, and reload
them.

Starting out from here, they found that the storm had made a good road
for them, and they covered 20 miles during the first march. On the
following day they again made 20 miles, and reached the point where
Peary decided the supporting party should leave him. They were now 130
miles from the shore of McCormick Bay.

It was here that Peary resolved to take only one companion with him. It
had originally been his intention to take two, but due to a frozen heel,
Henson had to be sent back to Red Cliff from the edge of the ice-cap.
All three of his companions volunteered to go with him. Peary decided
that Astrup should be his companion, that Gibson should return in
command of the supporting party, and that, on their return to Red Cliff,
Dr. Cook was to assume charge.

Next day, Gibson and Dr. Cook started on the return journey, and Peary
and Astrup continued the march towards the north-east. Peary had now
thirteen dogs. On the second march all the dogs were made to drag the
big sledge, and the other two sledges were put in tow of the big one.
Peary went ahead as guide, and Astrup followed driving the dogs. They
had gone but a short distance on this march when the big dog-sledge
broke down, one side bending inward and breaking all the standards on
that side. This at first seemed a serious accident, but by lashing the
broken sledge alongside another, and so making a broad 4-foot-wide
sledge with three runners, the difficulty was overcome. The accident,
however, had the effect of reducing the march to one of 10 miles. Next
day the snow was deeper and softer, and but 15 miles were covered.
During this latter march they began to ascend, and the snow was so deep
that the sledges sank in it nearly to the cross-bars. This made the
hauling so heavy that Peary contrived an impromptu sledge from an extra
pair of ski, and transferred to it 120 lb. from the big sledge. On this
day one of the dogs was ill, and at night it was killed and fed to the
others.

On the following day the up-grade and the deep snow compelled them to
make two journeys in hauling the sledge. Next day the surface
fortunately improved, and 15 miles were covered.

They were now evidently at the top of the grade, and soon began a
gradual descent toward the basin of the Petermann Fiord. During this
march they made 20 miles, and sighted land to the north-west.

On the last day of May the head of Petermann Fiord, with its guarding
mountains, suddenly came into sight, and Peary found it necessary to
deflect some 10 miles to the eastward to avoid the inequalities of the
glacier basin. Peary camped here thirty-six hours, and determined his
position and took bearings of the land.

From this camp the surface was comparatively level, and the highest
summits of the Petermann Mountains were kept in sight for 40 miles. Then
began a gradual rise, the snow becoming softer and deeper.

On the 5th June the summit of the next divide was reached at an
elevation of 5700 feet above sea-level. From here the travelling was
very good, and 19½ and 21 miles were made in two marches; and on the 8th
June they camped in sight of St. George’s Fiord, but they believed it
was Sherard-Osborn Fiord. At the end of this march a storm broke upon
them, and they were imprisoned in a rough shelter two days.

Peary now found that he was on the southern edge of a great glacier
basin, and to avoid this he deflected his course to the south-east,
which forced him to ascend steep icy slopes. It took two days of the
hardest work to get out of this trap, and at the end of them he had lost
15 miles of his hard-earned northing. During this climb, Peary’s best
dog, the king of the team, received a sprain. After limping at the rear
of the sledges for two or three days, he lagged behind, and was lost in
one of the ice-cap storms. Two dogs fell into a crevasse and hung
suspended at the end of their traces until hoisted out.

Starting again on a north-east course, they had not advanced far when
they were brought up by a group of enormous crevasses, and just as these
were reached a dense fog swept up from the glacier basin and delayed
them eighteen hours.

Peary now decided to strike farther into the interior, so as to avoid
these glacier basins, but in carrying out this plan he found the snow
increasing and the grade so steep that he was compelled to steer more to
the north.

He had advanced in this direction only 4 miles when the big sledge again
broke down, and an entire day was lost in repairing it. Next day the
temperature became so high and altered the surface of the snow so much
that they found it impossible to go on. They had to wait a fall of
temperature, and this did not occur for two days. At this camp spare
articles weighing 75 lb. were thrown away.

Starting again, they made a march of 6¼ miles, going over the road
twice. The following day, land again made its appearance ahead of them,
and Peary deflected first to the north-east and then to the east.
Advancing 8 miles, they found themselves hemmed in by a series of huge
concentric crevasses, and to cross these it was necessary to take a
south-easterly direction. At one time two dogs fell into a crevasse, and
at another one of the sledges broke through.

Next day they covered nearly 18 miles, and on the following one they
made 20½ miles. Land was now visible to the north-west, north, and
north-east.

Towards the close of the next march a fiord with high sharp peaks on its
northern side came clearly into view. Starting again on the 26th June in
a north-east direction, Peary soon changed the course to east true, and
then to south-east, so as to avoid a fiord which was seen ahead.
Assuming this fiord to be Victoria Inlet, and thinking he could round
it, Peary kept on to the south-east till the 1st of July, but still the
mountains of the shore were in view. On this day a wide opening, bounded
on either side by high vertical cliffs, showed up in the north-east over
the summits immediately adjacent to the Inland Ice. Through this opening
could be seen neither the reflected ice-blink of distant ice-cap nor the
cloud-loom of land.

Peary now decided to reach this opening and discover whether it looked
out into the East Greenland Arctic Ocean. Changing his course to
north-east, he made for the red-brown mountains of the strange land. The
grade now became so steep that it was necessary to descend diagonally
along the slope.

The highest convex of a crescent moraine which climbed well up into the
ice-cap was selected as a landing-place, and after wading many streams,
and floundering through a mile of slush which covered the lower portion
of the ice, they clambered upon the rocks of the moraine 4000 feet above
the sea.

Here Peary left Astrup to look after the clogs while he hastened down to
the land for the purpose of climbing a summit some 5 miles from the edge
of the ice. He had not gone far when a snow-bunting fluttered up from
behind a rock, and not long afterwards he came across the traces of
musk-oxen. As he got farther from the ice, flowers of various hues made
their appearance, among them the yellow Arctic poppy.

Instead of 5 miles, the distance of the mountain lengthened to at least
12, and when it was reached at the end of an eight hours’ march, it was
only to find that two or three other summits intervened between Peary
and the view he wished. By this time the soles of Peary’s kamiks were
cut through, and some of the sharp stones had cut his feet. He patched
his foot-gear with a pair of seal-skin mittens and a skull-cap, and
after an hour’s rest he started on his return to Astrup, and reached him
after an absence of fifteen hours.

Peary now decided to take Astrup and the dogs, which numbered eight, and
three or four days’ supplies, and march overland. They started out on
3rd July 1892, carrying about 40 lb. each on their backs. On the second
day’s march they were fortunate in coming across musk-oxen, and
succeeded in killing two. This gave both the men and the dogs a welcome
change of food, and they feasted till they could eat no more.

After several hours’ rest, they again set out, and succeeded in gaining
a rocky plateau, 3800 feet above sea-level. This dropped in a
perpendicular cliff into a bay below. Looking out over a mighty glacier
on the right and through the broad mouth of the bay, they saw stretching
away to the horizon the great ice-fields of the Arctic Ocean. To the
west was the opening of a fiord which Peary believed was the one which
barred his northern advance, and he had paralleled its course across the
northern end of the mainland from Robeson Channel to the shores of
North-East Greenland. This channel, which Peary believes marks the
northern boundary of the mainland of Greenland, now receives the name of
“Peary Channel.”

To the north-west, north, and north-east stretched steep red-brown
bluffs on the other side of the bay. To the northward could be seen the
entrance of a second fiord, or channel, apparently extending to the
northwestward.

The land which stretched away to the north-east was free of snow. In
this direction land could be seen 60 miles away. From observations taken
by Peary on the cliff, afterwards named “Navy Cliff,” the position was
found to be 81° 37′ 5″ north latitude, and 34° 5′ west longitude. After
building a cairn and leaving a record, they retraced their steps towards
the ice-cap.

On this northern land, besides snow-buntings, two or three sandpipers, a
Greenland falcon, a pair of ravens, two bumble-bees, several
butterflies, innumerable flies, and about twenty musk-oxen were seen.
Flowers of numerous species were blooming in abundance.

Two days were occupied in getting back to Moraine Camp, and when it was
reached the feet of six of the dogs were cut and bleeding. It was
therefore necessary to rest and allow the dogs to recover, and it was
also necessary to thoroughly overhaul the impedimenta and put everything
in good order for the return journey.

The big three-runner sledge was reduced to its original dimensions, and
the foot-gear required a good deal of attention. At last, on 7th July,
all was ready, and they started up the icy slope.

In order to avoid crevasses and glacier basins, Peary returned on a
course well to the east of his upward one. On the first day only 10
miles were covered, but on the second they made 21½ miles, and ascended
1300 feet. On the 10th July an advance of 20 miles was made, and an
ascent of nearly 1000 feet. On the 11th the altitude rose 600 feet in
another march of 20 miles. The elevation was now 7300 feet above
sea-level. On this date one of the eight dogs became exhausted, and was
killed and fed to the others.

They now experienced a severe storm, which detained them two days. On
the first march after the storm they travelled 20 miles over a level
plateau in a thick fog.

Next day one of the dogs died, and now only six were left, and Peary
became anxious about the remainder. On the 18th July the fog cleared. On
the 21st, Peary decided to abandon one sledge and leave behind articles
weighing about 50 lb. The load was repacked on the small sledge.

Another of the dogs died on 28th July, but the remaining five were in
fairly good condition. On this day 22 miles were covered, and the next
few marches were even better. They were now east of the Humboldt
Glacier.

On the 2nd August they neared the divide between the Kane Basin and the
Whale Sound region, and next day they sighted land, after travelling 35
miles.

On the following day, when nearing the edge of the ice-cap, a relief
party came into view, and soon Peary had the pleasure of meeting
Professor Heilprin, who had come north in the _Kite_ to take Peary home.

Two days after his return to Red Cliff, Peary set out on a boat-voyage
into Inglefield Gulf, with the object of becoming better acquainted with
the northern shore. He explored Bowdoin Bay to its head, and at this
point Verhoeff, who formed one of the party, left to cross the glacier
to McCormick Bay, where he was to meet Gibson.

Leaving Bowdoin Bay, Peary passed eastwards along the gulf, and reached
a striking, precipitous island, which he named “Josephine Peary Island.”

On returning from this boat-voyage, Peary learned that Gibson had landed
Verhoeff at Five-Glacier Valley a few days after he had left Bowdoin
Bay. Verhoeff’s intention was to make an overland trip to the Eskimo
settlements in Robertson Bay, and he arranged with Gibson to return for
him at a certain time. The day after Peary’s return, Gibson arrived with
the news that Verhoeff had not turned up according to promise.

Peary at once set out with Gibson and a crew of his best Eskimo to
search for Verhoeff. Heilprin’s party and the _Kite’s_ crew also took
part in the search, which was continued six days and six nights. The
Eskimo ultimately succeeded in finding traces along the side of a
glacier, and these were found to pass on to the glacier itself, but they
disappeared on the unyielding surface of the ice.

The search was now given up. The conclusion arrived at was that Verhoeff
had fallen into one of the innumerable crevasses of the glacier and had
there perished. This sad incident naturally cast a deep gloom upon the
party, and on Peary especially.

Preparations were now made for the return home. Mrs. Peary distributed
many household utensils to the delighted Eskimo, who also received
numerous presents of wood, knives, iron, kettles, etc., which had been
brought in the _Kite_ from friends of the expedition.

At Godthaab, on the way home, some of the kayakers of the place treated
them to an exhibition of aquatic feats, such as turning a somersault in
the water and jumping one kayak over another. The remainder of the
voyage was completed without special incident.

                 *        *        *        *        *

Soon after his return from this expedition, Peary made preparations for
a more ambitious one. In order to raise funds, he delivered one hundred
and sixty-eight lectures in ninety-six days. From these he realised
13000 dollars. He also obtained some funds from other sources, and was
able to charter a ship named the _Falcon_ to take his party north, and
return the following season to bring him back.

Peary left Philadelphia in the _Falcon_ on 23rd June 1893. The ship
carried a steam-launch, and the two whale-boats, the _Mary Peary_ and
the _Faith_. The six dogs of the _White March_ and some carrier-pigeons
were also taken. In order to make a new experiment in Arctic work, Peary
took some burros which had been brought from Santa Fé. Several places on
the American coast were stopped at, and St. John’s was not left till
15th July. On the same day one of the dogs managed to slip its harness,
and was lost overboard. On the 17th, during heavy weather, two of the
burros died. The _Falcon_ touched at Battle Harbour on the Labrador
coast, in order that dogs might be purchased; but Peary met with but
little success. Other two stations were visited, but as a total result
only twenty dogs were obtained. On the 22nd July the _Falcon_ was headed
for the Greenland coast, and it arrived at Holsteinborg on the 26th.
Here seventeen dogs were obtained, and near midnight of the same day the
_Falcon_ left for Godhavn, where it arrived on the 28th. Fur clothing,
ordered from Copenhagen, was found ready, and twenty dogs were obtained.
Peary had been mindful enough to take a present of oranges, lemons, and
pine-apples to Mrs. Anderson, the Inspector’s wife, and it gave great
delight to her and her family. Godhavn was left about 10 p.m. on the
28th, and Upernavik was reached on the 30th. Peary was disappointed in
finding that only ten dogs were to be obtained here, but he was informed
that he would get more at Tasiusak, about 40 miles to the north. The
latter place was reached early in the morning of 31st July, and
seventeen dogs were obtained. Peary had now on board eighty-seven dogs,
and the pandemonium caused by these howling, fighting, restless animals
was indescribable. The Duck Islands were reached about noon, and after a
few hours’ stay, the passage of the dreaded Melville Bay was begun. The
weather was excellent, and where two years before the _Kite_ had to
battle with the pack, there was open water with only a few scattered
icebergs. The passage was made in the record time of 24 hours and 50
minutes.

Peary landed and climbed Cape York. None of the natives here had seen or
heard anything of Verhoeff.

Bowdoin Bay, in Inglefield Gulf, where Peary intended taking up
quarters, was reached on the morning of 3rd August.

Peary selected the site of the house, and they soon set to work to build
this and unload the stores. The house was named the “Lodge.”

On the 12th August the _Falcon_ left the bay on a cruise for the
winter’s meat-supply. Near Herbert Island they were successful in
obtaining twenty-four walruses. During the hunt there was one exciting
event. A walrus had been shot, and a man was beside it on a cake of ice,
when the ice was struck by the _Falcon_ and capsized. The man was thrown
into the water under the ship’s stern, but he succeeded in clinging to
the rudder, from which he was released in safety.

The _Falcon_ next steamed north as far as Littleton Island, where four
other walruses were shot. While here, Peary and his party examined the
site of Polaris House, and found the place littered with miscellaneous
articles of no use to the natives. Peary also climbed to the top of
Littleton Island. He describes it as a terribly desolate, barren-looking
piece of rock.

The _Falcon_ now turned southward on the way to Olriks Bay, on the south
coast of Inglefield Gulf, for deer. During one night the party shot
seventeen deer, and as a sufficient supply of meat had now been obtained
for the dogs and natives during the winter, the _Falcon_ went back to
Bowdoin Bay.

On the 20th August the ship returned to America. Peary’s party,
including himself, now numbered fourteen persons:—

Samuel J. Entrikin, first assistant      George H. Carr
Eivind Astrup, second assistant          James Davidson
Edward E. Vincent, surgeon               Walter F. Swain
E. B. Baldwin, meteorologist             Hugh J. Lee
George H. Clark, taxidermist             Mrs. Peary
F. A. Stokes, artist, an independent member
Mrs. Susan J. Cross (Mrs. Peary’s nurse)
Matthew Henson (Peary’s coloured man)

On 29th August, Astrup left the Lodge in charge of an Inland Ice party,
consisting of Carr, Davidson, and Lee. They took with them five sledges
and fifty dogs, with the intention of establishing a dépôt of supplies
as far in on the Inland Ice as possible.

On 7th September a letter was brought by one of the carrier-pigeons from
the Inland Ice party, asking for more dogs; and Peary visited the camp,
which he found 6 miles in on the cap. Astrup was suffering from
something in the nature of a chill, and the doctor had to be sent to
him. In a day or two he was much better, and able to continue his work.

On 12th September a little blue-eyed snowflake was born at the Lodge,
and named Marie Ahnighito Peary. She was bundled in soft, warm Arctic
furs and wrapped in the Stars and Stripes. This wonderful baby was of
extraordinary interest to the natives. Families journeyed from Cape York
in the south, and from Etah in the north, to satisfy themselves that she
was not made of snow. Until about six months old she lived in continuous
lamp-light.

On 13th September, Astrup was brought down from the ice-cap, suffering
from gastric trouble. The supplies were then 12 miles from the edge of
the ice, with the exception of two sledge-loads which were 3 miles
farther in. Carr and Davidson, who had brought down Astrup, started back
to rejoin Lee, but they lost themselves in a storm and had to return to
the Lodge. A day or two later they made a second attempt, and succeeded
in reaching Lee, who had been alone for a week. Here again a storm came
on, and confined them to the tent another week. They then all returned
to the Lodge, which they reached on 23rd September.

Two days later, Peary set out with the party; but at the moraine, at the
edge of the ice, it was found that three sledges which had been left
there had been blown away. They had in consequence to return to the
Lodge and make new sledges.

On 30th September, Peary, Davidson, and Lee succeeded in reaching the
camp on the ice-cap, and found the advanced sledges. Again they returned
to the Lodge for more dogs, and with these they advanced all the
supplies to a point 26½ miles from the moraine.

Peary wished to have them advanced still farther, but a gale kept the
party to their camp two days. They then descended to the Lodge, but the
storm lasted an entire week. Another attempt was made by nearly the
whole party to reach the ice-cap, but in consequence of a constant
succession of snowstorms and high winds it had to be given up.

The season was now so far advanced that Peary abandoned the idea of
taking the supplies farther until the spring.

On 31st October a large wave caused by a huge iceberg from the Bowdoin
Glacier burst up through the solid ice near the shore, rolled the
steam-launch over and over, and stove it in; dashed the whale-boat a
hundred yards up the valley, and ruined it; then, receding, carried away
all the oil-barrels. It had been Peary’s intention to put up an
electric-light plant, but the loss of the oil rendered this
impracticable.

While the ice-cap work was going on, Entrikin was busy hunting deer, in
which he was most successful. In two hunts he obtained no less than
sixty animals.

The long sunless winter had now begun, but the party were still kept at
work. Much in the way of Inland Ice equipment had to be got ready, and
various sledge-journeys were made for dog-food. About 700 miles were
travelled, and some 3000 lb. of dog-meat brought to the Lodge, and yet
no member of the party suffered any great discomfort. These journeys
were made in the moonlight.

The sun made its appearance on the 18th February 1894, and on this day
Lee, with two Eskimo and a team of dogs, set out for the cache on the
Inland Ice. Lee, unfortunately, lost his way during a storm, and after
wandering about for a night and a day, reached the Lodge in an exhausted
condition and with a frozen toe. This mishap disarranged Peary’s plans.
He had intended to start from the cache on 1st March. Lee was to free
the cache from the winter’s snows, bag the pemmican, and construct snow
igloos. The delay necessitated a further supply of dog-meat, which had
to be hauled a distance of at least 50 miles.

On the 6th March eight members of the party, with five Eskimo and some
eighty dogs, started for the ice-cap. Next day Peary left with two
Eskimo carrying several gallons of boiling hot tea in canteens, and
found the party about 2 miles from the moraine. Peary then returned to
the Lodge, which he finally left on 8th March, and reached the ice-cap
party in the evening.

Next day the cache was reached, and the snow was found to have drifted
about it during the winter to a depth of 4 feet. The Eskimo formed snow
igloos, and two days were spent here making preparations for the final
start. On the 10th March one of the dogs died from _piblockto_, the
dreaded dog-disease of Greenland, and this was naturally considered a
serious incident.

A start was made on 12th March, after considerable difficulty with the
dogs. Lee’s toe had been nipped again, and at night it was found that he
could not proceed much farther. Astrup also informed Peary that he was
threatened with the illness which attacked him in September, and that he
was not able to go on. This loss of two of his best men was a serious
blow to Peary’s plans. It had been his intention, should he reach
Independence Bay, to send one party northward, another south to Cape
Bismarck, and thence over the ice-cap to Whale Sound; while a third
party was to remain at Independence Bay and survey that region while
awaiting the return of the northern detachment.

On the 14th March, Peary, accompanied by Clark, returned to the Lodge
with Lee and Astrup. The Lodge was again left on the afternoon of the
15th. The night was passed in a snow igloo, and the party was reached
during the following afternoon. Next day the weather made it impossible
for them to advance, and so continued for three days. The temperature
was from 35° to 40° F. below zero.

On 22nd March a start was made, but the weather was still unfavourable,
and only 3 miles were covered. The party now experienced a violent
storm, which lasted till the 25th March. The velocity of the wind
averaged over 48 miles per hour during thirty-four hours, and the
average temperature was 50° F. below zero. In Peary’s opinion this storm
was the most severe ever experienced by any Arctic party.

After the storm was over, half of the dogs were found frozen fast in the
snow, some by the legs, some by the tails, and some by both. Two were
dead.

During the storm Davidson had his heel, and Clark a toe and three
fingers, frost-bitten. Davidson had to be sent back to the Lodge with
the doctor. This now reduced the party to four, and Peary made a cache
of supplies, and readjusted the loads.

Each of Peary’s companions now had a large sledge drawn by eighteen
dogs. During the first march they advanced 7 miles in a temperature of
46° F. below zero. On the 27th March they had considerable difficulty
with the sledges: one broke in the bend of one of the runners, and it
was converted into a three-runner sledge by lashing another sledge
alongside it; and a second one was seriously damaged.

While engaged in repairing the sledges, Entrikin had the soles of his
feet frost-bitten. To make matters worse, next day he strained his back
in making efforts to start the sledge. During the night the temperature
remained between 55° and 57° F. below zero.

The dogs were now in bad condition: three had been killed and used as
dog-food, another died from the effects of the storm, and several had
frost-bitten feet.

At the next camp Peary decided to rest two days, so as to give Entrikin
a final chance of recovery, and also with the object of getting the dogs
into better condition.

On the 3rd April, Entrikin’s feet were much better, and the party pushed
on a distance of 15 miles. On this day, however, one of the dogs was
attacked by the _piblockto_, and bit many of the other dogs before he
was shot. On each of the next two days a distance of 15 miles was
covered. During the next three days a storm confined them to their tent,
and two dogs died from exposure.

Another start was made, but only 7 miles were travelled. Two more dogs
died of _piblockto_, after biting nearly all the other dogs. The dread
disease had evidently gained a firm foothold.

On 10th April, Peary had reached a point 128 miles from the Lodge. One
man had frosted feet and must return. Another had both heels and great
toes frost-bitten, and had daily attacks of bleeding from the nose. The
third man had not quite recovered from cramp. Added to these troubles
was the serious condition of the dogs. Peary now saw that he could not
possibly carry out his plans. He might reach Independence Bay, but this
would consume all his pemmican, alcohol, and other provisions, and
destroy any chance of making another attempt next spring. He therefore
decided to cache his pemmican and return to the Lodge, and make another
attempt during the following year.

On the return journey a great many of the dogs died, only twenty-five
reaching the Lodge. Peary admits that previous to this experience he
believed that the Eskimo dog was capable of enduring the most severe
weather possible on the ice-cap. It is also evident that the members of
the party suffered greatly from the extremely low temperatures usually
experienced during the month of March. The serious outbreak of the
dog-disease could not have been foreseen.

The party on their return to the Lodge were very much exhausted, and it
required about a fortnight to recover from the strain and exposure.

Soon afterward, Peary set out to explore and survey Olriks Bay. He was
accompanied by Mrs. Peary. He found it to be a long narrow fiord 50
miles in length by about 2½ miles wide.

On 16th May he again left the Lodge to search for the “Iron Mountain” of
Melville Bay. He took Lee with him and ten dogs. On the way to Cape York
an Eskimo was met who undertook to act as guide to the object of Peary’s
search. Cape York was reached in ten days, after considerable
difficulties. Another march brought them to the meteorite, which Peary
measured and photographed.

The return journey was made under great difficulties. Sometimes they
were storm-bound and had to dig shelters in snow-drifts, at other times
they were wading through deep slush; again they were compelled to take
to the shore and climb the bluffs and make long detours overland.
Several glaciers were crossed, and at one place they were 3362 feet
above sea-level. The Lodge was reached on 6th June.

On 31st July news was received that the _Falcon_ had returned. During
August, Peary endeavoured to obtain deer, but was not very successful.

On 26th August the _Falcon_ again sailed for America. All Peary’s party,
with the exception of Lee and Henson, had decided to return home. The
_Falcon_ carried them safely to Philadelphia, but in returning to St.
John’s she was lost with all on board.

It will be most convenient here to give a brief account of a
sledge-journey made by Astrup after he returned invalided from the
ice-cap. On 6th April he started out with the intention of exploring the
shores of Melville Bay. He took with him Koolootingwah, the Eskimo. Cape
York was left on the 15th April, and over 40 miles were travelled the
first day. Astrup found the shore, from Cape York eastward, continually
broken by large and active glaciers. The night was passed in a snow
igloo, and next day 30 miles were covered. On the third day Thom Island
was reached. All the dog-food was now gone, and Astrup had provisions to
last only ten days. He therefore decided to examine the coast more
closely, and gradually work back to Cape York, where he arrived on 23rd
April. The Lodge was afterwards reached without special difficulty.

Peary and Matthew Henson, with five Eskimo, accompanied the _Falcon_
about 200 miles from the Lodge, and returned in the whale-boat. Lee
remained at the Lodge. Soon after Peary’s return he made preparations
for securing his winter’s meat-supply. Henson with some Eskimo went off
after deer, and returned a week later with six animals. Then Peary
arranged a walrus-hunt. Both whale-boats and five kayaks were employed,
and all the able-bodied men and boys of the village of Karnah. Such an
imposing flotilla had never been seen before in these waters. Peary had
decided to use a harpoon like the Eskimo, and in this he was very
successful. Off Herbert Island several large walruses were obtained, and
the boats returned loaded with meat.

Peary was now anxious to have the nearest of his caches on the ice-cap
visited and rearranged, and proper signals put up where the original
ones might be blown down. With this object in view, Lee, Henson, and the
Eskimo Nooktah set out on the 2nd October with twelve dogs. To Peary’s
great disappointment, they returned in four days without having found
any of the caches. There had been a most extraordinary fall of snow, and
poles which had stood 8 and 9 feet above the snow were now only 1 foot
above.

On 8th October, Peary, with Henson, and the Eskimo Maksingwah, more
familiarly known as “Flaherty,” set out for the ice-cap. On the second
day they reached the vicinity of the first cache, but no trace of it
could be found. Next morning signs of a coming storm induced Peary to
make preparations to meet it, and for some time it was not observed that
Maksingwah had decamped rather than face a storm on the dreaded ice-cap.
It was afterwards ascertained that it took the Eskimo four days to reach
the Lodge, and he was then in an extremely exhausted condition.

The storm confined Peary and Henson to the tent six weary days. Peary’s
thoughts during this time were far from pleasant. He saw that this
terrible storm was destroying the last chance of finding his caches, and
this meant not only the destruction of all the work of that year, but
also of the resources on which depended his chance of success next year.

When the storm passed over, a diligent search was made for the cache,
but no trace of it could be found. Peary had to acknowledge the terrible
fact that all his alcohol and pemmican, which with other provisions
weighed nearly a ton and a half, were buried beneath the ice-cap.

The blow was a severe one, but with his characteristic tenacity of
purpose Peary determined that venison and walrus-meat must take the
place of pemmican, and that coal-oil must serve instead of alcohol. The
idea of abandoning the journey, even after this overwhelming disaster,
he could not entertain.

During December, Peary and Lee made a sledge-journey to Cape York. One
of the main objects was to determine accurately the positions of some of
the capes, but the weather was unfavourable most of the time. During the
last stage of the return journey Peary was without food or sleep
forty-six hours, and travelled 60 miles.

Several other journeys were made during the winter, for dog-food and
various articles of equipment. Every effort was made to be prepared for
the ice-cap journey, but when the time came to depart Peary was far from
satisfied with his resources.

On 1st April 1895, Peary, Henson, and Lee, with six Eskimo, six sledges,
and sixty dogs, left the Lodge. On one of the sledges, drawn by thirteen
picked dogs, were the supplies for the return trip, and also those for
consumption at and beyond Independence Bay. It had also the tent and
sleeping and cooking-gear, the total weight being about 1000 lb. Another
sledge drawn by ten dogs held about 750 lb. of dog-food.

On the second day’s march the vicinity of one of the caches was reached,
and another determined attempt was made to find it, but in vain.

When the neighbourhood of the next cache was reached, a stop was made,
and the Eskimo were sent out to make a search. In a short time a bag was
found attached to a pole projecting only 3 inches above the surface.
Peary had stopped within 100 yards of it. This cache contained ten cases
of biscuit and a case and a half of milk, and was very acceptable.
During the search, one of the Eskimo took the opportunity to decamp with
his sledge and dogs.

During the next three days, journeys of 22, 28, and 30 miles were made,
and carried the party well into the snow-shed of the Humboldt Glacier.
They had now arrived near the pemmican cache, and a twenty-four hours’
search was made for it, but it ended in failure. Peary and Henson had
their noses frozen, and Lee and Peary each had a frost-bitten toe. Peary
had hoped against hope that this cache would be found, although he had
made up the rations of the journey without reference to it.

From this point the Eskimo returned along the tracks made by the
sledges. Never before had any of their tribe penetrated the heart of the
ice-cap.

Peary now took the lead with a sledge drawn by twelve dogs, and set the
course by means of a boat-compass lashed on the top of the load. Henson
followed next with a sledge and trailer drawn by sixteen dogs; and Lee
brought up the rear with a long sledge and trailer drawn by fourteen
dogs.

When near the Petermann Fiord Basin, a storm delayed them forty-eight
hours. At this camp two dogs were fed to the others. During the next
week the long sledge was abandoned, and the loads rearranged.

An average elevation of 7670 feet had now been attained, and breathing
was much more rapid on increased exertion. Henson and Lee frequently
bled at the nose. The maximum elevation was found to be 7865 feet.

At the 400th mile one of the runners of Henson’s sledge broke, and the
greater portion of a day was spent in repairing the sledge with a runner
from one of the trailers. This new runner, however, only did duty for 12
miles, when it broke beyond repair. The sledge was now converted into a
three-runner one. On this day the last of the walrus-meat was fed to the
seventeen remaining dogs. It was now a case of dog eat dog, and in a few
days only eleven were left.

Peary saw that the land must be reached with all speed. He therefore
dismantled the three-runner sledge and cached everything except a week’s
supplies. They were now on the downward grade, and on the second day
they sighted land.

They were now over 500 miles from the Lodge in a direct line, and three
of the eleven dogs were thoroughly exhausted. Peary decided to leave Lee
here with the dogs, and push on with Henson in search of musk-oxen.

Peary and Henson started out from an elevation of 4800 feet above
sea-level. Four miles from the tent many huge crevasses were passed.
Peary recognised the group as one he had seen in 1892. Some miles beyond
these large crevasses a great number of small ones were met, into which
both Peary and Henson frequently fell, but were always able to save
themselves.

At the junction of the ice-cap with the land was a vertical wall of ice
impracticable of descent. Finally a glacier was found over which they
had to pick their way among crevasses.

The land consisted of bare jagged rocks which cut their boots and
bruised their feet. Leaving the sledge behind, they wandered about the
greater part of a day in a drizzling snowstorm in search of a
practicable route, but failed to find one, or to see any game. Next day
they returned to the tent on the ice-cap.

A serious condition of affairs now stared them in the face, but after
very little discussion all agreed to stake everything on finding
musk-oxen. They therefore started back for the cache, and when it was
reached Peary and Henson were quite used up.

One sledge and scant rations for themselves on the return journey were
left at this camp, and everything else was taken on towards the north.

When a point about 15 miles from the edge of the ice-cap was reached,
Peary found that they were approaching the land on a course about 5
miles east of the one on which he had descended to it in 1892. He was
here able to look over the eastern edge of the Academy Glacier basin,
and make out the summits of the east-coast land considerably farther to
the south than in 1892. Away due north a magnificent mountain was seen
which was not observed in 1892.

A large cone of detritus passed in 1892 was reached just in time to take
shelter from a storm which held them prisoners two days.

Peary here decided to leave Lee in the tent to give a frozen toe a
chance to recover, and to take Henson and all the dogs with him in an
attempt to find musk-oxen.

After travelling some miles, the sledge was stopped by a shallow cañon
when abreast of Musk-ox Valley. Here Peary left the sledge and dogs and
examined the valley, but could find no trace of musk-oxen. After making
an attempt to pass down the cañon, and failing, they climbed out of it
and made across country. A few miles beyond the valley, Peary shot a
hare. Previous to this they were having recourse to the dog-food, but
they now cooked and ate the entire hare. It was the first full meal they
had had in thirty-five days.

Next morning they started for a valley between Musk-ox Valley and Navy
Cliff. At the entrance of this valley traces of musk-oxen were found,
and ultimately they were tracked to near the crest of some mountains.
When about 200 yards from the oxen, Peary and Henson lay down behind a
large boulder to regain their breath. It was almost a matter of life or
death with them, and they quivered with excitement. At last they made a
rush for the oxen, and fortunately, instead of running away, the oxen
formed in line with lowered heads. In a few minutes several were shot,
and the remainder took to flight. So hungry were the men that as they
skinned the animals they ate the meat raw and thought it delicious.

After resting, they took up the trail of the remaining oxen. Having
followed them for twenty hours, Peary’s chagrin may be imagined when the
oxen were ultimately found near the camp he had left. Being now
thoroughly tired, they decided to take a few hours’ sleep before
attacking them, but when they awoke the oxen had gone. The trail was
again taken up, but after a chase of several miles a snowstorm came on,
and completely obliterated all tracks.

They now returned to the sledge, and using the musk-oxen skins, they
formed a kind of tent into which they crawled, and were soon asleep.

Next day, Henson was sent back with the sledge and a load of meat to the
moraine where Lee was. On the way there he came across the musk-oxen,
but the dogs gave chase and thoroughly frightened them.

About the fourth day, Henson and Lee joined Peary, and an attempt was
now made to reach the sea. Several days were spent in incessant
climbing, scrambling, and jumping over rocks, but at the end of it they
found themselves still some 3000 feet above sea-level. To reach the bay
ice it would be necessary to carry supplies on their backs for some
distance over rocks, then down a precipitous shore, across a glacier’s
lateral cañon, and then over several miles of crevasse-riven glacier.

Peary now found himself compelled to retrace his steps. A sharp look-out
was kept for fresh traces of musk-oxen, but no signs were discovered.

To reach the moraine was a hard struggle, but they were able to leave it
on the 1st of June to begin the homeward journey over the ice-cap. On
the second day they were fortunate in finding the cache without much
trouble.

Peary had now nine dogs and fourteen days’ rations for them. For himself
and his two companions he had thirty days’ half-rations of tea, biscuit,
and oil, and several days’ rations of frozen venison.

On the 3rd June the distance travelled was 25¼ miles, but all the party
had trouble with their feet and legs as a result of the severe work
among the rocks. On the 6th June, Lee was ill and quite used-up, but by
means of a line from the sledge to support himself by, he managed to
struggle along. On the 7th two dogs were quite exhausted, and were fed
to the other seven. On the 8th the larger of the two sledges was
abandoned. On the 9th, after 4 miles’ travelling, they were obliged to
camp on account of Lee. After fifteen hours’ rest and an extra supply of
milk, Lee was able to travel 20 miles during the following march.
Another dog fell exhausted on the 11th, and another on the 12th, leaving
five. On the 13th the five had been reduced to four, and on the 16th
only three were left. On the latter date the last of the dog-food was
consumed. On the 21st June the remainder of the venison was given to the
two remaining dogs, and on the 22nd one of the two dogs died. On the
23rd the summits of the land appeared. The remaining dog was now given a
pair of seal-skin boots and several yards of raw-hide line. Peary and
his companions had four biscuits remaining for supper and breakfast. The
Lodge was reached on the 24th June, and found to be intact.

The only dog to reach the Lodge was Panikpah, and it was fed by Peary
before he ate anything himself. The memory of the famine-days on the
ice-cap remained with the dog long after, and he might be seen at all
times hiding away every bit of meat or blubber, and every bone he could
find about the place. These noble dogs saved the lives of the party.

The journey of 500 miles across the ice-cap, from moraine to moraine,
was made in twenty-five marches of an average of 20 miles. The weather
on the whole was exceptionally good, or it would have been impossible to
cover the distance in so short a time.

Early in the morning of the 3rd August the _Kite_ arrived to take them
home. On the way south two of the Cape York meteorites were successfully
removed and shipped.

Peary made a summer voyage in 1896 for the purpose of obtaining the
third and largest of the meteorites. Before, however, it could be got on
board, the ship had to leave, in order to avoid being crushed by the
ice.

Still determined to obtain the meteorite, Peary made another voyage in
the summer of 1897, and was successful in shipping the meteorite and
taking it to the United States. This meteorite is the largest known, and
its estimated weight is between 90 and 100 tons.

On 12th January 1897, Peary announced his plan for reaching the North
Pole. A sufficient sum was to be raised to continue the work of
exploration for five years, if necessary. A ship was to be taken north
through Robeson Channel to the highest latitude possible along the
Greenland coast. Stores were then to be landed and advanced in stages
until the northern terminus of the North Greenland Archipelago was
reached, and from this point a dash to the Pole would be made. Should
the ship be unsuccessful in the passage of Robeson Channel, the party
was to land at Hayes Sound and devote the first year to explorations of
that unknown region.

In the spring of 1897, Morris K. Jesup suggested the formation of the
“Peary Arctic Club,” which raised funds for the expedition. At the end
of 1897, Alfred Harmsworth offered the _Windward_ to Peary, who accepted
it. As it could steam only at the rate of 3½ knots at most, Harmsworth
offered to have the _Windward_ re-engined, but unfortunately this could
not be done owing to an engineers’ strike. In consequence of this, Peary
had also to charter the _Hope_ as an auxiliary ship.

The _Windward_ left New York on 4th July 1898, but Peary sailed from
Sydney, C.B., in the _Hope_ on the 7th. As soon as the Whale Sound
region was reached, Eskimo were engaged, and the work of hunting walrus
for dog-food was prosecuted by both ships.

At Etah, on 13th August, the two ships separated, the _Hope_ bound for
home, and the _Windward_ for the north. After a good deal of trouble
with the ice, the _Windward_ reached Cape D’Urville, near Cape Hawks, on
the 18th, but was here stopped by a large floe, and before the ship
could get farther it was frozen in.

As soon as Peary saw that preparations for winter would require to be
made, he landed a year’s supplies at the cape. He then took steps to
secure fresh meat, and in a short time a considerable number of
musk-oxen were obtained. He also began to survey the region near Hayes
Sound. He discovered that Bache “Island” is a peninsula, and that “Hayes
Sound” does not exist.

Peary now decided to utilise the winter moons in pushing supplies north
as far as Fort Conger, where he purposed to take his party in February.
From Fort Conger he intended to make an attempt on the Pole in the
spring.

Now commenced a series of desperate sledge-journeys. Snow igloos were
formed at several of the capes. At the end of October, Peary advanced
some supplies as far as Cape Frazer. At the end of the November moon
about 30 cwt. of supplies had been sledged as far as Cape Wilkes, on the
north side of Richardson Bay. The mean daily minimum temperature was
more than 40° below zero, and on four successive days it was 50° below
zero.

In the first light of the December moon, Peary with Henson and the
doctor and four Eskimo left the ship with the intention of reaching Fort
Conger. On the 28th all the supplies had reached Cape Lawrence on the
north side of Rawlings Bay. Next day Peary started from Cape Lawrence
with light sledges for Fort Conger. On the way the cold was so intense
that it was too much for one of the Eskimo, who had to be left in a
burrow in a snow-drift with a companion to look after him. Before Fort
Conger was reached the moon had departed, and Peary had to grope and
stumble in complete darkness across Lady Franklin Bay. On the 6th
January 1899 the party passed through the doorway of Fort Conger.
Biscuit from the table where it had lain fifteen years formed a lunch.
On reaching Fort Conger, Peary had a suspicious “wooden” feeling in his
feet, and on having them examined it was found that both were
frost-bitten. He ultimately lost eight of his toes.

The party remained at Fort Conger until the 18th February, when a start
was made for the _Windward_, which was reached in eleven days. The mean
minimum daily temperature during this period was the astonishing one of
−56.18°F., and on the day the _Windward_ was reached the temperature
went down to −65° F.

During April the supplies left at Cape Lawrence were moved to Fort
Conger. On 19th April, Peary again left for Fort Conger, although he
could not move without crutches, and Discovery Harbour was reached on
the 28th. Early in May he attempted to make a reconnaissance of the
Greenland north-west coast, but found Robeson Channel impracticable.

On the 23rd May, Peary and his party started for the ship, and covered
the 250 miles in six days.

In July, Peary crossed Ellesmere Land to the west coast. Soon after his
return from this trip, the _Windward_ was able to make its way to Etah,
where Peary communicated with a relief expedition in charge of Bridgman.
At the end of August both the _Windward_ and the relief ship were sent
home, and Peary and his party were left at Etah, where the winter was
passed.

On the 19th February 1900, Peary sent off a division of seven sledges to
Fort Conger; on the 26th February six other sledges left; and on the 4th
March he followed with nine sledges. He reached Fort Conger on 28th
March, and learned that the advance parties had killed twenty-one
musk-oxen close to Conger.

At Fort Conger, Peary decided to make a sledge-journey along the north
coast of Greenland. He left on the 11th April with seven sledges, and
followed very much the same route taken by Lockwood, but did not go
overland. The northern part of Cape Britannia Island was reached on the
4th May. From here he sent back the last of the supporting party, and
pushed on north with Henson and one Eskimo. Lockwood Island was reached
on the 8th May, and from the cairn erected by Lockwood, Peary took the
record, which had been perfectly preserved. From here one march carried
the party to Cape Washington, the farthest point seen by Lockwood. On
rounding this cape, Peary saw another headland still farther north. Near
this cape were very large glaciers which Peary believes are the
birthplaces of the “floebergs.” Still farther north another cape was
found, to which Peary gave the name “Cape Morris Jesup.” This was the
most northern point of the Greenland Archipelago. From this point Peary
started over the ice-pack towards the north, but found the ice
impracticable. He reached 83° 50′, and returned. He then travelled
eastward along the coast, which soon began to trend to the south-east.
In the same latitude as Cape Washington was found a magnificent cape,
which Peary named “Cape Bridgman.” Two marches beyond this cape brought
Peary to a point from which he recognised a mountain he had seen from
the ice-cap south of Independence Bay. The weather was now very foggy,
and Peary was compelled to stop at what he believed was an island in the
mouth of a large fiord. To this island he gave the name “Clarence
Wyckoff Island.” He had now reached the 83rd degree on the east coast.
After waiting two nights and a day for the fog to lift, he found it
necessary to start on the return journey. He left records at this camp,
and also at Cape Morris Jesup and Cape Washington. Quite a large number
of musk-oxen were seen along this most northern land.

The return journey was begun on the 22nd May, and Cape Morris Jesup was
passed on the 26th. They reached Fort Conger on 10th June.

The most northern point of the land to the north of Greenland had now
been determined, and Peary arrived at the conclusion that it was not a
favourable one from which to reach the Pole. The ice was very much
broken, and there was a comparatively rapid motion towards the East
Greenland current.

Peary now decided to winter at Fort Conger and make another attempt on
the Pole, starting from Cape Hecla, on the north coast of Grant Land.
During the autumn no fewer than 101 musk-oxen were killed.

On the 5th April 1901, Peary left Fort Conger with Henson, one Eskimo,
two sledges, and twelve dogs for his northern trip. A few days after
starting, he found that the condition of the party and of the dogs was
such that he could not hope for success, and he therefore returned to
Fort Conger.

On 17th April he started for the south with his entire party, and found
the _Windward_ at Payer Harbour on 6th May. He soon commenced to form
new caches along the coast towards Conger; and in July no fewer than 128
walruses were killed for dog-food.

The winter of 1901−2 was passed at Payer Harbour, where six of the
Eskimo died. On the 3rd March 1902, Henson was sent north in charge of
six sledges, and on 6th March, Peary followed with seventeen sledges.
The temperature was from 43° to 49° F. below zero. The distance of 300
miles to Fort Conger was covered in twelve marches.

On the 24th March 1902, Peary started north from Fort Conger with nine
sledges for Cape Hecla. Finding deep snow near Cape Joseph Henry, Peary
preferred to take the ice-foot route round it rather than cross Feilden
Peninsula. At the very extremity of the cape the sledges had to be
passed along a shelf of ice 3 feet in width and 75 feet above the sea.

On 6th April, Peary, Henson, and four Eskimo left Crozier Island, and
when opposite Cape Hecla turned north over the polar pack. Now began a
desperate struggle over rough ice. The route was a continual zigzag, and
the pickaxe had to be used constantly. In deep snow the dogs floundered
and were almost useless, and a sledge had now and again to be dug out of
a hole among snow.

On the 12th April they were storm-bound by a gale from the west which
caused leads to form. Under great difficulties the journey was continued
till the 21st April. On this date the latitude was 84° 17′ 27″. The ice
was still very rough, and the snow so deep that it was almost
impracticable. The entire pack seemed to be in slow motion towards the
east. Peary here decided to return. He hurried his departure in order to
utilise as much of his outward tracks as possible. He found, however,
that the movement of the ice had faulted the trail in various places,
and it was only with great difficulty that it could be followed. Crozier
Island was again reached on 29th April, and Fort Conger on 3rd May.

Fort Conger was left on 6th May, and Payer Harbour was reached on the
17th. The _Windward_ arrived on the 5th August, and conveyed Peary and
his party to America.

The year 1905 saw Peary again on his way to the north. His expedition
sailed from New York on 12th July 1905 on board the _Roosevelt_. Etah
was left on 16th August, and after various encounters with the ice the
_Roosevelt_ succeeded in reaching Cape Sheridan on 5th September. The
vessel here suffered severe pressure, which did considerable damage. It
was not floated again until the following summer, and this position
perforce became headquarters. The winter proved much milder than that
which the _Alert_ experienced in the same region.

During October many of the dogs died, and it was found that the cause of
the trouble was cured whale-meat, several tons of which had to be thrown
away. To make good this loss, many musk-oxen were obtained in the Lake
Hazen district and along the slopes of the United States Range.

At the end of February 1906, Peary started on a sledge-journey with the
object of reaching the Pole. In three marches he reached Cape Hecla,
where his whole party assembled. From here he advanced over the pack-ice
with one main and several supporting parties. Open leads and rough ice
made progress slow, and a considerable portion of the track had to be
cut with pickaxes. At latitude 84° 38′ a broad lead extending east and
west as far as it could be seen completely barred the way. After a delay
of six days, Peary’s party managed to cross on young ice which bent
beneath their weight. Three days later a gale began to blow, and lasted
six days. The ice was broken up, and Peary and Henson were driven 70
miles to the eastward on a large floe. Peary could now receive no aid
from his supporting parties, and he decided to make a dash northwards.
His party now numbered eight. Everything was abandoned that was not
absolutely necessary, and every energy was bent on establishing a
record. The character of the ice was now much better than farther south,
but cracks and narrow leads increased. By forced marches Peary reached
87° 6′ on 21st April. By this time his sledges were nearly empty, and
the ice was still in motion towards the east. He was therefore compelled
to start on the return journey.

On reaching latitude 84° a lead was encountered over which no crossing
could be found, and they were forced to camp on a large floe which
drifted steadily eastward. Here some sledges were broken up to cook
dog-meat for the party. On the 5th May two Eskimo, sent out as scouts,
reported young ice a few miles distant. It was decided to attempt to
cross it. The thin ice bent beneath them, but by using snow-shoes the
crossing was effected in safety.

During the next week the party had to cut their way through a terrible
chaos of ice, and on the 12th May they reached the Greenland coast at
Cape Neumayer. Here they succeeded in obtaining four hares.

Near Cape Neumayer sledge-tracks were found, and as these had no doubt
been made by one of the supporting parties, Peary sent two Eskimo to
follow the tracks. They returned next day with Clark and his three
Eskimo, who were in a terribly famished condition. Fortunately, seven
musk-oxen were secured, and for two days the party ate and slept.

The remainder of the march back to the _Roosevelt_ was accomplished
without any special difficulty. Peary now called in the relief parties
who were still out. After a short rest, a trip was made to the west of
Grant Land. New land, named “Crocker Land,” was seen to the north-west.
On the 30th July, Peary again returned to the _Roosevelt_, which next
day started on the return journey.

Peary had decided that the ship was so badly damaged that it could not
safely remain another winter exposed to the ice. He therefore determined
to return home for repairs, and to sail again for the north during the
following year. At Lady Franklin Bay it was feared that the ship would
have to pass the winter there, but it fortunately managed to get free,
and the voyage was resumed.

At Etah the _Roosevelt_ was beached four days for repairs. Again the
journey was resumed, but severe storms were encountered, and it was not
till 13th October that the vessel reached Hebron, Labrador.

On 6th July 1908 the _Roosevelt_ left New York to carry Commander Peary
and his party once more to the Arctic regions. The necessary repairs to
the ship had not been finished in time for an expedition in 1907.
Sydney, Nova Scotia, was left on 17th July, and Etah on 18th August. The
usual course was taken across Smith Sound to Cape Sabine, and then
northward. Fog and ice were soon encountered, but the _Roosevelt_ slowly
worked her way north as far as Lincoln Bay, where she had to shelter
several days. On 2nd September Cape Union was passed, and on the 5th of
this month the _Roosevelt_ went into winter quarters near Cape
Sheridan—a little north of the position of three years before.

Commander Peary had decided to set out on his final attempt to reach the
Pole from Cape Columbia. The winter was occupied in transporting
supplies to this point.

On 15th February 1909 the first of the sledges left the _Roosevelt_, and
Peary brought up the rear on 22nd February. The total of all divisions
was 7 men of Peary’s party, 59 Eskimo, 140 dogs, and 23 sledges. A start
was made over the ice from Cape Columbia on 1st March. Bartlett had been
sent on ahead to make a trail. From this point the party consisted of 17
Eskimo, 133 dogs, and 19 sledges, in addition to the 7 men in command.
On the first day’s march 10 miles were covered, and on the second the
record made by Markham in 1876 was passed. A wide lake of open water was
encountered on 4th March, and here the party were delayed till the 11th.
A sounding taken here gave 110 fathoms. On the 14th the temperature
registered minus 59° F. The first supporting party was sent back on the
15th in charge of Dr. Goodsell, and on the following day Peary found it
necessary to send back Professor McMillan, who was suffering from a
badly frost-bitten foot. A sounding taken at this camp gave a depth of
825 fathoms, so that the Continental Shelf had now been passed. When
latitude 85° 23′ had been reached, the second supporting party,
commanded by Borup, turned back. The advance party had now been reduced
to 20 men, 10 sledges, and 70 dogs. Leads were frequently met, but good
marches were made daily. The third supporting party returned from
latitude 86° 38′ with Professor Marvin in command. This reduced the
advance division to 9 men, 7 sledges, and 60 dogs. The character of the
ice was now favourable for long marches, but still there was danger from
open leads. At the end of the second day’s march progress was stopped by
open water, and during the night the party found themselves in imminent
danger. The ice had broken Bartlett’s igloo adrift, and others were
threatening to follow suit. It was with great difficulty that the party
managed to save themselves and the dogs. There was considerable
commotion in the ice during the remainder of the night and the whole of
the next day. The ice then closed together and allowed the party to
proceed. North of this point the surface improved, and consisted mostly
of heavy old floes covered with hard snow and comparatively level. From
latitude 87° 48′ the fourth and last supporting party, commanded by
Bartlett, turned back.

Peary had now with him his servant Henson, who had been his faithful
companion on nearly all his journeys; Ootam, who had been with him when
he made his record three years before; two of the Eskimo who had been
with Clark when they narrowly escaped death from starvation; and a fifth
man was a young Eskimo who had shown great eagerness for the work. Forty
of the best dogs were selected, and five of the best sledges. The
supplies were ample for forty days, and Peary believed that with the
dogs he could make them last fifty days more.

A determined effort was now to be made to reach the Pole. During the
first march of ten hours 25 miles were covered, and after a few hours’
sleep another march of ten hours covered another 20 miles. Again a few
hours’ sleep, and a further march of 20 miles brought the party within
sight of latitude 89°. The temperature at this time was 40° F. below
zero. After a short sleep, the fourth march was made against a bitter
wind, and the distance covered was estimated to be at least 25 miles.
The party were now getting much fatigued, and it was found necessary to
take a longer sleep before beginning the fifth march.

During these four marches the weather had been brilliant, but with the
fifth it changed to a dense pall overhead, and the ice beneath was a
ghastly white with no relief. The surface, however, was even better than
before; there was scarcely any snow on the old floes, and a rise of
temperature to 15° F. below zero reduced the friction of the sledges. In
twelve hours no less than 40 miles were covered without a sign of a
lead. A hasty noon observation was now made, and the latitude was found
to be within 3 geographical miles of the Pole. Thirty hours were spent
in making observations, in going some 10 miles beyond the camp and about
8 miles to the right of it. Flags were planted, photographs were taken,
and the horizon was carefully searched through the telescope for
possible land. The minimum temperature during the thirty hours was 33°
F., and the maximum 12° F. below zero.

Peary had now at last reached the goal of his ambition—the goal he had
been fighting to reach through many years and under tremendous
difficulties. His dogged perseverance and stern determination must
excite the warmest admiration of every one. During the twenty-three
years from 1886 to 1909 he passed fifteen summers and eight winters in
the Arctic regions. No matter what view we may take of Dr. Cook’s great
achievement, we must admit that Commander Peary, much more than any
other man, deserved the great honour of being the first to reach the
North Pole.

The return journey was begun on the afternoon of 7th April. The distance
from Cape Columbia had been travelled in thirty-seven days, but Peary in
returning wished to cover five of the outward marches in three, and he
practically succeeded. For a large part of the way he was able to return
on his former track, and he had therefore the further advantage of not
requiring to build snow-huts. Cape Columbia was reached on 23rd April,
so that the distance of 475 English miles from the Pole had been
travelled in the astonishing time of sixteen days—an average of about
30 miles per day.

On arrival at the _Roosevelt_, Peary learned that Professor Marvin had
been drowned. Returning in command of the third supporting party, Marvin
had reached within 45 miles of Cape Columbia. He had gone on ahead of
his Eskimo, and had broken through young ice covering a recent lead.
When the Eskimo arrived, they found Marvin’s body floating in the water
some distance out from the ice.

On 18th July the _Roosevelt_ left her winter quarters, and reached Cape
Sabine on 8th August.

Peary’s final expedition brings out in a striking manner the contrast
between his methods and those of the British Expedition of 1875−76.
Commander Markham and Sir George Nares were emphatic in their opinion
that it was utterly impracticable to reach the North Pole over the ice
from the north of Grant Land. Peary’s route was considerably to the west
of Markham’s, and no doubt escaped much of the crushed-up ice
encountered by the British, but the fact that the full distance to the
Pole was covered in thirty-seven days, on at least eight of which Peary
was detained by open water, proves that the methods adopted were
incomparably superior.




[Illustration: CHART OF NORTH POLAR REGIONS.]




                              CHAPTER XIV
                     DR. COOK’S EXPEDITION (1907−9)


=[=Dr. Cook’s statements, both as regards Mount McKinley and his
discovery of the North Pole, have been seriously called in question. The
writer prefers to accept his statements until his opponents prove that
they are false.

According to the latest reports, a committee of the American Explorers’
Club have examined Dr. Cook’s data regarding his ascent of Mount
McKinley, and have come to the conclusion that his data do not stand the
test to which they were submitted.

The Council of the Copenhagen University, to whom Dr. Cook sent certain
documents for examination, have decided that from the material supplied
no proof can be adduced that he reached the North Pole.

As Dr. Cook’s instruments and most of his astronomical observations were
left behind at Etah, and are still there in consequence of Peary’s
refusal to allow them on his ship, it is impossible at present to
pronounce a final judgment.=]=

Dr. Frederick A. Cook first took part in Arctic exploration as surgeon
and ethnologist to Peary’s expedition of 1891. He was then twenty-six
years of age. Before the expedition reached Greenland his services were
required in a critical emergency. Peary received a fracture of both
bones of his leg, and it was to Dr. Cook’s skill that he owed a rapid
and successful recovery.

Dr. Cook was one of the party on the ice-cap as far as Humboldt Glacier,
and when Peary asked for a volunteer to accompany him to the farthest
north, Dr. Cook was the first to offer his services. Peary decided to
take Astrup, probably because he wished Dr. Cook to take charge of the
base camp where Mrs. Peary and the remainder of the expedition had to
wait anxiously till his return. Peary states that “to Dr. Cook’s care
may be attributed the almost complete exemption of the party from even
the mildest indisposition, and personally I owe much to his professional
skill, and unruffled patience and coolness in an emergency. In addition
to his work in his special ethnological field, in which he has obtained
a large mass of most valuable material concerning a practically
unstudied tribe, he was always helpful and an indefatigable worker.”

After his return from the Arctic, Dr. Cook had a great ambition to try
the Antarctic, but did not obtain an opportunity till 1897, and he then
had to go on very short notice. The Belgian Expedition had considerable
trouble and some disappointment in connection with the surgeons
appointed. The first candidate was put aside, after acceptance, for
personal reasons, and the second declined to go at the last moment for
family reasons. Without a knowledge of this difficulty, Dr. Cook cabled
to Belgium from America, volunteering his services, though at the time
he had not previously written a line, nor was he acquainted with a
single individual of the expedition or its representatives. In reply, he
received the instruction, “Meet us at Rio, end of September.” He had
only a few days to prepare himself and his outfit for a journey which
might take one year or several. French was the language spoken on the
ship, but Dr. Cook could not speak a word of it. The Commandant,
however, could speak English, and all the scientific staff could speak
German, with which Dr. Cook was familiar. This expedition, after doing
some valuable work, was beset in the ice, and drifted throughout the
whole winter. After an absence of fifteen months, it returned to
civilisation in the spring of 1899.

Dr. Cook’s next venture was an attempt to reach the summit of Mount
McKinley, in Alaska, the highest mountain in North America. His first
attempt was made in 1903, and although he reached a height of only
11,400 feet, he explored a good deal of new territory. His second
attempt was made in 1906, and was successful. He began the ascent with
two companions, but one of them became afraid of the crevasses in the
glaciers and returned to the base camp. The summit, 20,390 feet above
sea-level, was reached by Dr. Cook and Edward Barrille on 16th September
in a temperature of 16° F. below zero.

In the following year, 1907, Dr. Cook quietly made preparations for a
daring expedition to the North Pole. He was fortunate in having a
wealthy friend, John R. Bradley, who paid all expenses. A strong fishing
schooner was purchased and well stocked with suitable supplies. Mr.
Bradley was especially interested in Arctic game, and a considerable
time was spent in hunting walruses and other large animals. At Annootok,
25 miles to the north of Etah, a large settlement of natives was found,
in a most prosperous condition, and here Dr. Cook decided to make his
winter quarters. Rudolph Francke was chosen to be his only companion.
The necessary supplies of food and fuel were landed from the schooner,
and a winter house was soon erected. Steps were at once taken to secure
a large supply of meat and blubber to support the Eskimo during the
winter, and to make provision for the families during the absence of the
men accompanying the expedition in the spring. The whole of the winter
was occupied in preparing furs and equipment of all kinds.

Cook had an abundance of the best hickory wood, and the sledges were
made of a pattern combining the qualities of the Yukon and the Eskimo.
Unlike many others, he did not abandon the old-fashioned iron shoes for
strips of German silver. For dog-harness the Eskimo pattern was adopted,
but in order to prevent the dogs eating the harness, the shoulder-straps
were made of folds of strong canvas, while the traces were cut from
cotton log-line.

Pemmican, made of pounded dry beef, sprinkled with a few raisins, some
currants, and a small quantity of sugar, was selected as the staple food
both for men and dogs.

Early in January 1908 some sledges were sent across Smith Sound to
explore a route and to advance supplies. These advance expeditions were
only partly successful, however, owing to storms having rendered the
moonlight of little service.

The main expedition left Annootok on 19th February 1908. It consisted of
eleven men, one hundred and three dogs, and eleven heavily loaded
sledges. The crossing of Smith Sound to Cape Sabine was found to be
about the most difficult part of the whole journey. The temperature was
low, and as the season was early, there were only a few hours of
sunlight daily. From Cape Sabine a course was made into Flagler Fiord.
From the head of this fiord Ellesmere Island was crossed to Bay Fiord.
In crossing the land the temperature went down to the astonishingly low
figure of 83° F. below zero.

In Bay Fiord a large number of musk-oxen were obtained, which enabled
the party to save their provisions. From Bay Fiord the expedition
entered Eureka Sound, and proceeded northward along the coast of Heiberg
Island. The ice was fairly smooth, and long marches were made. Caches of
food and ammunition were left along Heiberg Island for the return
journey, which Dr. Cook intended to make by way of Cañon Fiord. As an
abundance of musk-oxen, bears, and hares were obtained, it was found
unnecessary to use the provisions taken from Greenland. This also
supplied them with sufficient fat to use as fuel in the snow-houses
which were nightly built for sleeping-quarters.

Svartevog, at the north end of Heiberg Island, was reached on the 17th
March. A distance of nearly 400 geographical miles had been covered in
twenty-eight days. This included the difficult and dangerous crossing of
Smith Sound, and the crossing of Ellesmere Island. It was a remarkable
feat, and justified the leader in daring the remaining 525 miles which
lay between him and the Pole.

At Svartevog a cache was made in which were placed not only a large
quantity of food, but also many discarded articles of equipment. Dr.
Cook had decided to take only two Eskimo with him on the final part of
the journey to the Pole. The two men chosen were Etukishuk and Ahwelah,
each twenty years old. Twenty-six dogs were picked, and provisions for
eighty days were loaded on two sledges. The sledges were made of hickory
and had iron shoes. The provisions consisted of pemmican, musk-ox meat,
tea, coffee, sugar, condensed milk, biscuits, and pea-soup. By way of
fuel, 40 lb. petroleum, 2 lb. wood-alcohol, 3 lb. of candles, and 1 lb.
of matches were carried. Each sledge carried 600 lb., which included the
following articles of equipment: pails, cups, and teaspoons made of
aluminium; 1 tablespoon, 3 tin plates, 6 pocket-knives, 2
butcher-knives, 1 saw-knife, 2 rifles, 110 cartridges, 1 hatchet, 1
Alpine axe, a 12-foot folding canvas boat, 1 silk tent, 2 reindeer
sleeping-bags, and screws, nails, and rivets. The sledges weighed 52 lb.
each, and the weight of the canvas boat was 34 lb. In addition to these,
Dr. Cook had 3 compasses, 1 sextant, 1 glass artificial horizon, 1
pedometer, 3 pocket chronometers, 1 watch, 3 thermometers, 1 aneroid
barometer, and a camera with films.

On the march Dr. Cook wore woollen drawers, a bird-skin shirt, a
blue-fox coat, bear-skin pants, kamiks and hare-skin stockings. A band
of fox-tails was fastened under the knee and about the waist. A
seal-skin coat and some extra clothing were also carried in the personal
bag.

On the morning of 18th March six of the Eskimo left Svartevog on the
return journey. Koolootingwah and Inugito were taken on by Dr. Cook as a
supporting party to give assistance over the rough ice of the pack-edge.
Shortly after noon Dr. Cook started over the polar floes, on a course
slightly west of north. The first day’s march covered 26 miles. Next
morning the temperature was minus 56° F. Some troublesome crushed-ice
was encountered on the second march, but yet the party added 21 miles to
their credit. The difficulties increased on the third day, and the
distance travelled was reduced to 16 miles. Here Dr. Cook sent his two
supporting Eskimo back. They returned with empty sledges, and although
their dogs had received no food during the previous three days, they
hoped to cover the 63 miles to land in one long day’s travel! They
carried a letter instructing Francke to wait until 5th June 1908, and if
Dr. Cook had not returned he was to place Koolootingwah in charge and go
home, either by the whalers or by Danish ships to the south.

Dr. Cook believed that he had now passed beyond the zone of ice crushed
by the influence of land-pressure. On the morning of the fourth march
the temperature was at the low figure of 63° below zero F., but
fortunately there was no wind. Heiberg Island was now nearly lost to
view. A march of fourteen hours carried the party 29 miles. Soon after
the usual snow-house was built, a storm arose, and a further start was
not made until the afternoon of the following day. From minus 59° the
temperature rose to minus 46°, but the wind made the party feel the
piercing cold very keenly. This march brought them to a great lead
several miles wide. It was covered with ice too thin to be crossed with
safety. A partially bridged place was, however, discovered about a mile
from camp, and the low temperature during the night had strengthened the
ice sufficiently for an attempt to be made to cross it. On snow-shoes,
Dr. Cook led the way with spread legs. In two crossings all the supplies
were landed on the other side.

This was probably an extension westwards of the same lead encountered by
Peary, and may indicate the dividing line between the central polar pack
and the land-ice.

A course was now set to reach the 85th parallel on the 97th meridian. At
noon on the 24th March a satisfactory observation gave the position as
latitude 83° 31′; longitude, 96° 27′. From here a glimpse was obtained
of what was believed to be Crocker Land away to the west.

The bright light of the sun now began to trouble the eyes, but
amber-coloured goggles were found to be a very satisfactory protection.

On the 25th March a hurricane was experienced, and during the storm the
temperature rose to minus 26° F. The ice cracked with thundering noise,
and Dr. Cook sank into a crevasse which formed under the floor of the
snow-house where he was lying in his sleeping-bag. He was, however,
quickly pulled out by the Eskimo.

During the next three marches it was estimated that 53 geographical
miles were travelled. A cold wind was blowing from the west, and added
much to the misery of the party by forming icicles on every hair about
the face.

On the night of 28th March a violent storm swept away the dome of their
snow-house and buried them under a considerable quantity of snow, from
which they extricated themselves with difficulty.

Next day the weather improved, and on the 30th March the clear
atmosphere enabled them to discover land some distance to the west,
extending parallel to the line of their route. The position at this time
was found to be 84° 50′, and longitude 95° 36′. This land gave the
impression that it probably consisted of two islands, and was named by
Dr. Cook “Bradley Land.” It was seen to extend from about 83° 20′ to
about 85° 11′ near to the 102nd meridian. It was buried under snow, and
resembled the high lands of Heiberg Island.

Dr. Cook has stated that from latitude 83° 31′ a glimpse was obtained of
what was believed to be Crocker Land away to the west. He now states
that Bradley Land extends as far south as 83° 20′. If this is correct,
Bradley Land must include Crocker Land.

The weather again changed on the 31st March, and hid the land from view.
Strong winds made progress rather slow for several days. On 7th April
the sun was first observed above the horizon at midnight. The journey
had now lasted from the time the sun first appeared above the horizon at
midday until it did not set during the twenty-four hours.

On 8th April the position was ascertained to be 86° 36′, longitude 94°
2′. In nine days 106 miles had been covered, in a temperature ranging
from 36° to 46° F. below zero. Dr. Cook at this time remarked that in
dreams Heaven was hot, and the other place was cold.

On 11th April the latitude was 87° 20′, and the longitude 95° 19′. Ice
conditions now improved, and good distances were made. For two days the
march was over old ice without pressure-lines or hummocks. The winds,
however, were still bitterly cold, and on 13th April Ahwelah nearly
collapsed. The position on the 14th was 99 miles from the Pole. Some of
the dogs had already been killed to feed the others, but a sufficient
number remained to enable the party to make a determined effort to cover
the remaining distance to the Pole.

On to the 89th parallel the ice was in large fields and comparatively
smooth. The noon observation on 19th April gave the latitude as 29 miles
from the Pole, and the longitude 94° 3′. The next march was made under
great excitement, and when camp was pitched it was within 14 miles of
the goal, in longitude 94° 52′. Shortly after midnight of 21st April the
party again set out, and when the pedometer had registered 14½ miles
camp was made. The observation here gave latitude 89° 59′ 45″. A
distance equal to the 15″ was advanced, the tent was pitched, and a
snow-house was built so that the party might stay long enough for two
rounds of observations to be made. The temperature was 38.7° below zero.

The North Pole had at last been conquered. The struggle which had been
carried on more than three centuries was finally over. It had cost many
lives and unparalleled hardships before man’s ambition was satisfied.
And what a desolate spot to have aroused the competition of nations! No
land was in sight, no life had been seen within a long distance of it,
and nothing but endless fields of ice and snow stretched away to the
horizon. Yet here was the most interesting geographical point on the
surface of the earth; here was the axis on which the world turned.

Soon after midnight of 22nd April, Dr. Cook and his two companions began
their return journey. They set their course along the 100th meridian,
and during the first few days, with fair weather and good ice, they
succeeded in making long marches. On 30th April the latitude was found
to be 88° 1′, and the longitude 97° 42′. As this showed a drift to the
eastward, a more westerly course was set. The temperature still remained
between 30° and 40° below zero, and the wind was again troublesome. Dr.
Cook, with compass in hand, marched ahead of the sledges. Near the 88th
parallel very heavy ice was crossed.

On the 6th May they were stopped by a very severe snowstorm. An attempt
was made to build a snow-house, but the wind swept the blocks away. An
effort was then made to put up the tent, but this was found impossible.
In sheer despair, they crept under the tent without erecting the pole.
For several days the wind was too strong to allow them to travel, and
the atmospheric conditions made it impossible to take observations.
Added to these difficulties was the fact that the food-supply was
running short.

On 24th May the weather cleared sufficiently to enable Dr. Cook to make
an observation, which placed them on the 84th parallel, near the 97th
meridian.

The temperature now gradually rose to zero, and caused the formation of
a fog which proved a serious obstacle to progress. It was Dr. Cook’s
intention to make for his cache in Nansen’s Sound, but when next the sky
cleared, after a long struggle, the party found themselves far south, in
Crown-Prince Gustav Sea. Open water and broken ice made it impossible
for them to reach Heiberg Island.

Dr. Cook was still anxious to return home in 1908, and when he saw that
he was cut off from Annootok, he decided to make for Lancaster Sound,
where he hoped to find one of the Scottish whalers. This allowed him to
take advantage of the southerly drift of the ice. Passing through Hassel
Sound, the party were fortunate in securing both bears and seals. Dr.
Cook states that from this point they travelled southward over Norwegian
Bay into Wellington Channel.[3] Here, however, they found the ice so
much broken up that sledging was impossible, and early in July they
crossed the island of North Devon into Jones Sound. Open water was again
met, and the party were forced to take to the folding canvas boat. As
there was no food for the dogs, they were left behind to shift for
themselves. One of the sledges had also to be left, and the other was
taken to pieces and carried in the boat.

Now followed a long struggle, partly by boat and partly by sledge. Birds
formed their chief food, and in securing these the last of the
ammunition was expended. Baffin’s Bay was reached early in September,
but it was found impossible to return to Greenland or to reach a place
of safety farther south. The only alternative was to make a winter-hut
and endeavour to secure sufficient food to carry them through till the
following spring. They returned westwards to search for a suitable place
to winter, and found it at Cape Sparbo, in Jones Sound. Here an
underground hut was made of stones, bones, and turf; and by means of
primitive weapons they succeeded in killing a sufficient number of
animals to enable them to live through the winter, and to provide food
and equipment for the return journey to Greenland.

On 18th February 1909 the winter quarters were left, and Annootok was
reached on 15th April. Anxious to return home as speedily as possible,
Dr. Cook set out for the Danish settlement at Upernavik, where he
arrived on 21st May. From there he travelled to Copenhagen by Danish
steamers.

This journey by Dr. Cook is unparalleled in the history of Arctic
exploration. The bare idea of attempting to reach the North Pole, in one
season, from the latitude of Annootok, was daring in the extreme. It is
probably correct to say that no Arctic authority could expect that he
would have the smallest chance of success. Many expeditions with much
greater resources than Dr. Cook possessed had in the same region made
the attempt from points hundreds of miles nearer the Pole, and had
suffered utter defeat. Markham’s starting-point was about 240
geographical miles nearer the Pole, and his farthest north was 400 miles
from the Pole. Lockwood’s base was over 200 miles nearer the Pole, and
his record was only 4 miles farther than Markham’s. Dr. Cook was well
aware that Commander Peary himself, by far the most experienced of
Arctic explorers, had repeatedly made attempts from a base much nearer
the Pole. Starting from Lockwood’s base in 1900, his farthest point
reached was 370 miles from the Pole. A second attempt from the same
point in 1902 reached a latitude 343 miles from the Pole. In 1906 his
third trial was made from a ship situated more than 240 geographical
miles nearer the Pole than Annootok, but the farthest north attained was
still 174 miles from the Pole.

This was the position when Dr. Cook decided to make the attempt from
Annootok. It is not surprising, therefore, that those acquainted with
the history of the subject should find a serious difficulty in at once
accepting Dr. Cook’s statement that he had accomplished such an
extraordinary achievement.

His idea of avoiding the route through Kennedy Channel and adopting a
course sufficiently west to escape the crushed-up land-ice was no doubt
a good one, but making every allowance for this advantage, the contrast
between his expedition and Commander Peary’s expedition of 1909 is very
great. Commander Peary had relief parties to assist him until he was
within 132 geographical miles of the Pole. His problem then was to
travel these 132 miles and return to land 413 miles distant. Dr. Cook,
on the other hand, was about 462 miles from the Pole when his last
supporting party left him. To reach the Pole he had therefore to travel
462 miles against Peary’s 132, without being able to obtain any further
supply of food. The return journey, again, was very different. Dr. Cook
expected to find his cache 525 miles distant, but in reality the first
land reached was more than 670 miles from the Pole. The total distance
in latitude covered by Peary with the supply he was able to carry on his
sledges was therefore 545 miles, whereas Cook states that he covered the
extraordinary distance of 1132 miles.

Dr. Cook has still to satisfy experts, but no one will question the fact
that Commander Peary has reached the North Pole; so that, no matter what
the result of the unfortunate controversy may be, to the American nation
belongs the great honour of winning the coveted prize.

During more than three centuries the record was held by the British. It
was then captured by America in 1882. In 1895 it passed into the hands
of the Norwegians, who held it until won by the Italians in 1900.
America regained it in 1906, and now must keep it finally.

The chief records are as follows:—

      British      {Parry       82° 45′   on    25th   July   1827.
                   {Markham     83° 20′    ”    12th   May    1876.
      American      Lockwood    83° 24′    ”    13th    ”     1882.
      Norwegian     Nansen      86° 13′    ”     7th  April   1895.
      Italian       Cagni       86° 34′    ”    24th    ”     1900.
      American      Peary       87°  6′    ”    21st    ”     1906.
      American     {Cook        90°  0′    ”    21st    ”     1908.
                   {Peary       90°  0′    ”     6th    ”     1909.

-----

[3] Dr. Cook seems to have made a mistake here. His route was evidently
west of Norwegian Bay.

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