Chapter Six.Pretty well tired with the day’s exertions, I turned into my berth. Silence reigned round the ship: not a sea-bird’s cry, not the slightest sound from the ice reached us. I dreamed that I was once more at home, climbing over the heathery hills of my native land, when I felt the ship heaving and rolling, her stout timbers creaking and groaning, as blow after blow was dealt on her sides and bows, while noises resembling shrieks and howls came from every direction, filling the air.Slipping into my clothes I rushed on deck, where everyone else had gone. Dawn had broken. A furious gale was blowing, and the ice, as far as the eye could reach, was in violent commotion, while long lanes or broad pools were opening out to the westward and southward. The captain ordered as much sail as the ship could carry to be set.“We may yet get free, lads!” he cried.The announcement was received by shouts from the crew. They were willing to encounter the onslaught of the floes, so that we could force our way out through their midst into open water. The captain or Mr Patterson were constantly aloft looking out for leads, but I observed that in spite of their anxiety to find these openings to the southward, the ship’s head was generally pointed to the west. At any moment, however, we might find a channel open to the southward. We had long lost sight of the coast of Spitzbergen, and were approaching that of Greenland. Sometimes the lines led us even more to the northward, towards some wide pool, from which no other channel was seen by which we might escape to the open ocean. The course of the ship reminded me of that of a hare, turning now to one side, now to the other, in her attempt to escape from the dogs. Frequently we rushed against the ice with a force which made every timber quiver. But the stout bows were prepared for the shock, and the ice bounded off and the way was clear.Several days we continued to sail on, sometimes gliding smoothly through the narrow lanes, at others rushing like a battering ram against the floes which impeded our progress. Still, at the end of the time, we appeared to be no nearer the moment of our escape than at first. Masses of ice lay to the southward which closed up directly we began to entertain hopes of reaching them, forming an impenetrable barrier across the course we had to steer.Again the wind fell. For another day we struggled manfully, sawing and blasting the ice to reach a pool beyond which clear leads were seen. The night came down on us while we were secured to a floe. The next morning the ice had closed round our ship, and we were once more in its vice-like grasp. Observations were taken, and it was found that, instead of being nearer the south after all our exertions, we, with the whole mass of ice in which we were locked up, were drifting to the northward. All hopes of escaping were abandoned. The broken and rugged state of the ice prevented the possibility of our traversing it with sleighs or dragging boats over it, either to the southward or to the coast of Greenland. Between us and the far-distant shore we should probably find an open space of water which, without the boats, it would be impossible to cross.We had now to make up our minds to spend the winter in the ice, and wait for the summer to get free, should the ship in the meantime escape being crushed, a fate we knew full well might at any moment overtake her. We were fast to a level floe of great thickness, almost smooth enough in some places for skating, had we possessed skates to amuse ourselves. The inevitable being known, our spirits rose; we formed plans for passing our time and preparing the ship to enable us to endure the cold of an Arctic winter; we even joked on our condition. Ewen suggested that if we were to drift at the rate we were now going we might become discoverers of the North Pole.So solid was the ice everywhere around it appeared to us that no further damage could happen to the ship, and that all we had to do was to wait patiently until she was liberated during the next summer.Cold as were the nights, the sun during the day made the air pleasant when the weather was calm, if not almost too hot for exercise in our Arctic clothing. As before, excursions were undertaken in search of walruses and seals, with a slight hope of meeting with a whale, which might come up to breathe in a pool.Sandy, Ewen, and I, with two other men, started from the ship; Ewen and I carrying our guns, Sandy his trusty harpoon and line, the men additional harpoons and spears, with a small sledge for dragging back any large game we might kill. It was of the greatest importance to obtain fresh meat to keep away that dreadful complaint, scurvy.We had crossed our floe, as we called the mass to which we were attached, and were making our way westward in the direction of the land, hoping that from the top of some hummock we might chance to see it. Should the worst come to the worst, we must contrive to get there, and look out for some of the people, who we had heard say are good natured enough, though rather too fond of blubber to make them pleasant messmates in a small hut.Ewen and I had dropped some way behind our companions, when we saw them turn to the northward towards an ice-hole, which we had shortly before discovered from the top of a hummock. We were about to follow, when Ewen declared that he saw a bear in an opposite direction stealing along amid the broken ice.We hurried on in the direction he had seen the animal, hoping soon again to catch sight of it. An extensive hummock was before us: I agreed to go round one side, while he took the other. I had parted from him scarcely five minutes when I heard him utter a loud cry for help. I hurried back, expecting to find that he had been attacked by the bear. What was my dismay then to see neither him nor the bear, but I distinguished a black spot just above the ice near where I had left him. I rushed on, when I saw Ewen’s head projecting out of a water-hole while his hands were holding on to the ice.“Help me, help me, or I must let go,” he shouted. Fortunately I had brought a coil of light rope, which I carried over my shoulder. Undoing it, I drew as near to the hole as I could venture. To tell him to catch hold of the end would have been mockery; in attempting to do so he might have sunk. I therefore made a bow-line knot, which I jerked over his shoulders, he then first let go one hand, then the other, and while he clung tightly to it, with considerable exertion, I managed to draw him up out of the water. His rifle, when he fell, he had thrown from him, so that except for the discomfort of being wet and the ill effects which might arise, he was not the worse for the accident. Unwilling to lose the bear, we continued our pursuit after it. If it had been in the neighbourhood it had taken itself off, and we could nowhere discover it.We accordingly pushed on in the direction Sandy had taken, keeping at the same time a look out for the bear, examining the nature of the ice as we went along, to avoid another tumble through it. There had been a slight fall of snow which enabled us to follow in his track, which we fortunately discovered when at length reaching a hummock, we climbed to the top to look out and ascertain how far he had got from us.“I see a black spot on the ice. It must be a man. Can anything have happened to the others?” exclaimed Ewen. “He is coming this way.”We descended and ran on to meet him. It was one of the men who had been sent back, he said, to look for us, as the boatswain had become anxious at our non-appearance. When he saw Ewen’s condition, he advised that we should go back to the ship, as it might be dangerous for him to remain in his wet clothes. Ewen, however, insisted on going forward, declaring that as long as he was in exercise he did not feel the cold.On crossing another hummock, we caught sight of Sandy with his companions. They were bending over a hole in the ice, Sandy with his harpoon prepared to strike at some object in the water. One of the men made a signal to us to keep back. We guessed at once that Sandy expected to find either a seal or a walrus rise to the surface, and was eagerly waiting to harpoon it. We accordingly halted to see what would happen. Presently Sandy stood up, holding his weapon ready to strike; then down it came, and he and his companions seized the end of the line and held fast. We rushed forward to their assistance, and arrived just in time to prevent their being drawn into the water-hole or having to let go the line. “Hold on, lads, hold on!” cried Sandy. “It’s a big bull walrus I suspect from the way the fellow tugs.” Taking a spear he advanced to the edge of the hole, when he plunged it into the body of an object invisible to us; he then sprang back, and in another instant a huge head and shoulders, with an enormous pair of tusks and flappers, appeared above the surface.“Haul away, lads, haul away,” he shouted, putting his hand to the rope to give us his assistance, when out came, with a loud flop, a large walrus. The creature on seeing us endeavoured to work its way on, opening wide its jaws and threatening us with its tusks; but as it advanced we ran back, until Sandy, taking the third spear, sprang towards its side, into which he deeply buried the weapon, almost pinning the animal to the ice. It still struggled violently, and as we had no more spears I advanced towards it with my rifle, and shot it through the head, when it rolled over perfectly dead. It was a prize worth having. The difficulty would be to get it back to the ship. We rolled the body on the sleigh, to which we secured it.We got on very well over the smooth ice, but when we arrived at a hummock we had to exert all our strength to get the carcase up to the top. We then let it roll down again to the opposite side. As we had a good many hummocks to pass, our progress was slow, and the day was waning when we caught sight of the ship. Sandy asked Ewen and me to go forward and obtain assistance. This we very gladly did, for all the party were pretty well worn out, and we felt that we could haul no longer.I was also particularly anxious to get Ewen into his bed, as his underclothing was still wet. On our arrival the doctor took charge of him; and I volunteered to lead back four of the men, whom the Captain had directed to go and assist Sandy. There was no time to be lost. The sky had become overcast, and there was every appearance that we should have a heavy snow-storm. We little knew, however, what was coming. Tired as I was, I set off with the men to try to find Sandy. I felt pretty sure that I could steer a course to the spot where I had left him, from having taken the exact bearings of the ship. Though we had seen the ship in the distance, it was not so easy to distinguish three men surrounded by hummocky ice. In a short time after we had set out, the expected snow began to fall, and very heavily it came down. I was afraid that, although we might find Sandy, we should be unable to drag back the body of the walrus. This would be provoking after the exertions we had already made. I was truly thankful when we at length caught sight of our shipmates amid the falling snow. They gave a cheer as we approached. The ship was no longer to be seen, and they, not without reason, feared that they might have missed her; and they were indeed, when we found them, steering a course which would have carried them some way to the westward of her. It was a lesson to us in future not to go far from home, unless in the finest weather, without a compass. All hands immediately tackled on to the sledge, and we set off as fast as we could move. I went ahead trying to make out the ship, but the thickening gloom and the fast falling snow concealed her from sight. At last I thought of firing off my rifle. No reply came. I fired again and again.At length I heard the report of a musket followed by the boom of a big gun. Both appeared much farther off than I expected, though I thought I could judge the direction from which they came. I waited until my companions approached and then led them on. I fired again and was replied to from the ship.I was thankful when we got alongside and our prize was hoisted on deck. Coarse as was the meat it was eaten with as much gusto as if it had been some delicate luxury.While we were in the act of stowing away the blubber, the ship began to move and the ice round us to heave. Every instant the motion increased, and the scene I have before described was enacted but in a more fearful degree. The ship groaned and strained, and the masts quivered as if about to fall. The masses of ice on the outer floe began to break up, and in a few seconds rushed over the more level parts, some remaining with their edges towards the sky, others falling with tremendous crashes and shivering into pieces. We could see some through the gloom rising high above our decks, and we knew at any moment that they might come toppling down upon us and crush the stout ship. Our sense of hearing, indeed, told us more clearly than our eyes what was taking place. The captain, in a calm voice, ordered the crew to make preparations for quitting the ship. The boats were swung out on the davits, so that they could be lowered in a moment, with sails, provisions, and tools ready to put into them, while the men brought up their bags and blankets, and put on their warm clothing. The doctor got his medicine chest ready; the armourer opened the magazine and divided the arms and ammunition. Sacks for sleeping in were added to the articles, and all stood waiting for the order we expected every moment to receive to quit the ship. We stamped about the decks in vain attempting to keep ourselves warm, for no fires had been lighted, lest the stoves being overturned might set the ship in flames.All night long the fearful uproar continued, the ice pressing with greater and greater force against the sides of the ship. The carpenter was ordered to sound the well. He reported that the water was rushing in through unseen leaks.Should the ship sink our fate would be sealed. Our hope was that she might be pressed up on the ice, and that the wreck might preserve us during the winter. At daylight the pressure ceased, but out hope of saving the ship was gone. On examination it was found that many of her stout ribs were broken and her planks forced in, while she herself was lifted several feet above the level of the ice. This made it probable that instead of sinking, should a further pressure ensue, she would be forced up altogether our of the water. We spent the rest of that anxious day in making further preparations for quitting the ship. Yet another night we remained on board, when in the middle watch we were aroused by the boatswain’s voice, summoning the men to leave the ship. The fearful commotion of the ice showed that there was no time to lose. The boats were lowered and dragged off towards the centre of the floe. Every man knew what he had to do and worked steadily, and the articles which had been prepared were placed near the boats. The crew worked like a party of ants toiling backwards and forwards, struggling on with loads on their backs, which under ordinary circumstances they could scarcely have attempted to carry. Our fear was that the masts might fall before our task was accomplished. Mercifully, time was given us. Nothing of absolute necessity remained, and we were engaged in setting up a couple of tents which might afford us shelter until we could erect ice houses.As day broke we saw the masts of our ship swaying to and fro, while the huge hull, as if by some mighty force below, was lifted up, and then down they came, the foremast first, dragging the mainmast and mizen mast, and the vessel lay a forlorn wreck on the top of the ice.“It is far better to have her so, than at the bottom of the sea, lads,” exclaimed Sandy, “so don’t let us despair; though she’ll not carry us home, she’ll give us stuff to build a house, and enough firewood to last us through the winter. We’re a precious deal better off than many poor fellows have been.”Not allowing the men a moment to think of their misfortunes, the captain at once set them the task of building a house, partly from the planking of the ship, and partly with ice. It consisted of an inner chamber with two outer ones, and a long passage leading to it, and several doors, so that the outer could be closed before the inner were opened. We had a sky-light, made from a piece of double glass on the top, and a chimney to afford ventilation and to allow the smoke to escape. While the men were engaged in forming it, the captain, my brother, Ewen and I set off to reach the summit of a berg with our sextants and spy-glasses, hoping that from thence, while we took observations we might catch sight of the Greenland coast. We carried with us also a small flag and staff, which we might plant on the top should our expedition prove successful.The labour of walking over the hummocky ice was great, for though at a distance it looked tolerably level, we had constantly to be climbing up and sliding down elevations of considerable height. As the days were getting short, we had little time to spare. We had to keep a look-out also for holes which exist often in thick ice, kept open by whales and other monsters of the deep which come up to breathe.“I hope that we may fall in with bears,” said Ewen; “the chances are, some old fellow will scent us out.”“I shall be very glad to see them,” answered the captain. “It would prove that the moveable floes are already connected with the land-ice, as bears very seldom swim across a broad channel; but I fear that this immense field on which we stand is still drifting northward, and that none will venture off to us.”At last we got to the foot of the berg for which we were aiming, and commenced its ascent.“Why it’s a mountain and not an iceberg!” cried Ewen. “I see rocks projecting out of it.”The captain laughed.“Those are mere stones sticking to it,” observed Andrew; “they were torn off when the berg was separated from the glacier of which it once formed a part. Vast rocks, far larger than those we see, were at one period of our globe’s history, carried over the surface to great distances, and deposited in spots where they are now found, while the marks produced by the bergs are still visible in many localities. If this berg were to be stranded on some distant shore, it would gradually melt leaving the rocks it carries behind it, which a geologist would perceive had no connection with any strata in the neighbourhood, and he would, therefore, at once justly conclude that the rocks had been brought to the spot by a berg.”These remarks were made as we stopped to rest on our way up. We quickly, however, continued the ascent. Andrew, who carried the flag, was first to reach the top, and, waving it above his head, shouted “Land, land!” then, working away with an axe, he dug a hole in which he planted the staff.We all soon joined him, when, descending a short distance, the captain surveyed the distant coast, now turning his glass horizontally, now up at the sky. I asked him what he was looking at.“Curious as it may seem, I can see the shape of the mountains in the sky better than by directing my glass at them; besides which I observe a dark line which indicates a broad channel running between us and the land-ice. It shows that I am right in my conjectures, and that the field is still moving northward. It must come to a stop one day, and when it does we must be prepared for even more violent commotions than we have yet experienced.”The captain calculated that the land we saw was nearly thirty miles off, and that the channel ran about midway between us and it.It was a question whether we should attempt this long journey during the autumn, or wait for the return of spring, spending our winter in our houses on the ice. The point could only be decided when the field ceased to move. One thing was certain, it would be impossible to get the boats over the hummocky ice, and thus we must depend upon our feet to reach the shore, while we dragged our stores after us.“We must wait no longer here, lads,” said the captain who had just finished his observation. “If we do we shall be benighted, and may have to spend a long night without shelter.”We hurried down the berg and directed our course towards the ship, but whether or not we should reach her appeared doubtful.
Pretty well tired with the day’s exertions, I turned into my berth. Silence reigned round the ship: not a sea-bird’s cry, not the slightest sound from the ice reached us. I dreamed that I was once more at home, climbing over the heathery hills of my native land, when I felt the ship heaving and rolling, her stout timbers creaking and groaning, as blow after blow was dealt on her sides and bows, while noises resembling shrieks and howls came from every direction, filling the air.
Slipping into my clothes I rushed on deck, where everyone else had gone. Dawn had broken. A furious gale was blowing, and the ice, as far as the eye could reach, was in violent commotion, while long lanes or broad pools were opening out to the westward and southward. The captain ordered as much sail as the ship could carry to be set.
“We may yet get free, lads!” he cried.
The announcement was received by shouts from the crew. They were willing to encounter the onslaught of the floes, so that we could force our way out through their midst into open water. The captain or Mr Patterson were constantly aloft looking out for leads, but I observed that in spite of their anxiety to find these openings to the southward, the ship’s head was generally pointed to the west. At any moment, however, we might find a channel open to the southward. We had long lost sight of the coast of Spitzbergen, and were approaching that of Greenland. Sometimes the lines led us even more to the northward, towards some wide pool, from which no other channel was seen by which we might escape to the open ocean. The course of the ship reminded me of that of a hare, turning now to one side, now to the other, in her attempt to escape from the dogs. Frequently we rushed against the ice with a force which made every timber quiver. But the stout bows were prepared for the shock, and the ice bounded off and the way was clear.
Several days we continued to sail on, sometimes gliding smoothly through the narrow lanes, at others rushing like a battering ram against the floes which impeded our progress. Still, at the end of the time, we appeared to be no nearer the moment of our escape than at first. Masses of ice lay to the southward which closed up directly we began to entertain hopes of reaching them, forming an impenetrable barrier across the course we had to steer.
Again the wind fell. For another day we struggled manfully, sawing and blasting the ice to reach a pool beyond which clear leads were seen. The night came down on us while we were secured to a floe. The next morning the ice had closed round our ship, and we were once more in its vice-like grasp. Observations were taken, and it was found that, instead of being nearer the south after all our exertions, we, with the whole mass of ice in which we were locked up, were drifting to the northward. All hopes of escaping were abandoned. The broken and rugged state of the ice prevented the possibility of our traversing it with sleighs or dragging boats over it, either to the southward or to the coast of Greenland. Between us and the far-distant shore we should probably find an open space of water which, without the boats, it would be impossible to cross.
We had now to make up our minds to spend the winter in the ice, and wait for the summer to get free, should the ship in the meantime escape being crushed, a fate we knew full well might at any moment overtake her. We were fast to a level floe of great thickness, almost smooth enough in some places for skating, had we possessed skates to amuse ourselves. The inevitable being known, our spirits rose; we formed plans for passing our time and preparing the ship to enable us to endure the cold of an Arctic winter; we even joked on our condition. Ewen suggested that if we were to drift at the rate we were now going we might become discoverers of the North Pole.
So solid was the ice everywhere around it appeared to us that no further damage could happen to the ship, and that all we had to do was to wait patiently until she was liberated during the next summer.
Cold as were the nights, the sun during the day made the air pleasant when the weather was calm, if not almost too hot for exercise in our Arctic clothing. As before, excursions were undertaken in search of walruses and seals, with a slight hope of meeting with a whale, which might come up to breathe in a pool.
Sandy, Ewen, and I, with two other men, started from the ship; Ewen and I carrying our guns, Sandy his trusty harpoon and line, the men additional harpoons and spears, with a small sledge for dragging back any large game we might kill. It was of the greatest importance to obtain fresh meat to keep away that dreadful complaint, scurvy.
We had crossed our floe, as we called the mass to which we were attached, and were making our way westward in the direction of the land, hoping that from the top of some hummock we might chance to see it. Should the worst come to the worst, we must contrive to get there, and look out for some of the people, who we had heard say are good natured enough, though rather too fond of blubber to make them pleasant messmates in a small hut.
Ewen and I had dropped some way behind our companions, when we saw them turn to the northward towards an ice-hole, which we had shortly before discovered from the top of a hummock. We were about to follow, when Ewen declared that he saw a bear in an opposite direction stealing along amid the broken ice.
We hurried on in the direction he had seen the animal, hoping soon again to catch sight of it. An extensive hummock was before us: I agreed to go round one side, while he took the other. I had parted from him scarcely five minutes when I heard him utter a loud cry for help. I hurried back, expecting to find that he had been attacked by the bear. What was my dismay then to see neither him nor the bear, but I distinguished a black spot just above the ice near where I had left him. I rushed on, when I saw Ewen’s head projecting out of a water-hole while his hands were holding on to the ice.
“Help me, help me, or I must let go,” he shouted. Fortunately I had brought a coil of light rope, which I carried over my shoulder. Undoing it, I drew as near to the hole as I could venture. To tell him to catch hold of the end would have been mockery; in attempting to do so he might have sunk. I therefore made a bow-line knot, which I jerked over his shoulders, he then first let go one hand, then the other, and while he clung tightly to it, with considerable exertion, I managed to draw him up out of the water. His rifle, when he fell, he had thrown from him, so that except for the discomfort of being wet and the ill effects which might arise, he was not the worse for the accident. Unwilling to lose the bear, we continued our pursuit after it. If it had been in the neighbourhood it had taken itself off, and we could nowhere discover it.
We accordingly pushed on in the direction Sandy had taken, keeping at the same time a look out for the bear, examining the nature of the ice as we went along, to avoid another tumble through it. There had been a slight fall of snow which enabled us to follow in his track, which we fortunately discovered when at length reaching a hummock, we climbed to the top to look out and ascertain how far he had got from us.
“I see a black spot on the ice. It must be a man. Can anything have happened to the others?” exclaimed Ewen. “He is coming this way.”
We descended and ran on to meet him. It was one of the men who had been sent back, he said, to look for us, as the boatswain had become anxious at our non-appearance. When he saw Ewen’s condition, he advised that we should go back to the ship, as it might be dangerous for him to remain in his wet clothes. Ewen, however, insisted on going forward, declaring that as long as he was in exercise he did not feel the cold.
On crossing another hummock, we caught sight of Sandy with his companions. They were bending over a hole in the ice, Sandy with his harpoon prepared to strike at some object in the water. One of the men made a signal to us to keep back. We guessed at once that Sandy expected to find either a seal or a walrus rise to the surface, and was eagerly waiting to harpoon it. We accordingly halted to see what would happen. Presently Sandy stood up, holding his weapon ready to strike; then down it came, and he and his companions seized the end of the line and held fast. We rushed forward to their assistance, and arrived just in time to prevent their being drawn into the water-hole or having to let go the line. “Hold on, lads, hold on!” cried Sandy. “It’s a big bull walrus I suspect from the way the fellow tugs.” Taking a spear he advanced to the edge of the hole, when he plunged it into the body of an object invisible to us; he then sprang back, and in another instant a huge head and shoulders, with an enormous pair of tusks and flappers, appeared above the surface.
“Haul away, lads, haul away,” he shouted, putting his hand to the rope to give us his assistance, when out came, with a loud flop, a large walrus. The creature on seeing us endeavoured to work its way on, opening wide its jaws and threatening us with its tusks; but as it advanced we ran back, until Sandy, taking the third spear, sprang towards its side, into which he deeply buried the weapon, almost pinning the animal to the ice. It still struggled violently, and as we had no more spears I advanced towards it with my rifle, and shot it through the head, when it rolled over perfectly dead. It was a prize worth having. The difficulty would be to get it back to the ship. We rolled the body on the sleigh, to which we secured it.
We got on very well over the smooth ice, but when we arrived at a hummock we had to exert all our strength to get the carcase up to the top. We then let it roll down again to the opposite side. As we had a good many hummocks to pass, our progress was slow, and the day was waning when we caught sight of the ship. Sandy asked Ewen and me to go forward and obtain assistance. This we very gladly did, for all the party were pretty well worn out, and we felt that we could haul no longer.
I was also particularly anxious to get Ewen into his bed, as his underclothing was still wet. On our arrival the doctor took charge of him; and I volunteered to lead back four of the men, whom the Captain had directed to go and assist Sandy. There was no time to be lost. The sky had become overcast, and there was every appearance that we should have a heavy snow-storm. We little knew, however, what was coming. Tired as I was, I set off with the men to try to find Sandy. I felt pretty sure that I could steer a course to the spot where I had left him, from having taken the exact bearings of the ship. Though we had seen the ship in the distance, it was not so easy to distinguish three men surrounded by hummocky ice. In a short time after we had set out, the expected snow began to fall, and very heavily it came down. I was afraid that, although we might find Sandy, we should be unable to drag back the body of the walrus. This would be provoking after the exertions we had already made. I was truly thankful when we at length caught sight of our shipmates amid the falling snow. They gave a cheer as we approached. The ship was no longer to be seen, and they, not without reason, feared that they might have missed her; and they were indeed, when we found them, steering a course which would have carried them some way to the westward of her. It was a lesson to us in future not to go far from home, unless in the finest weather, without a compass. All hands immediately tackled on to the sledge, and we set off as fast as we could move. I went ahead trying to make out the ship, but the thickening gloom and the fast falling snow concealed her from sight. At last I thought of firing off my rifle. No reply came. I fired again and again.
At length I heard the report of a musket followed by the boom of a big gun. Both appeared much farther off than I expected, though I thought I could judge the direction from which they came. I waited until my companions approached and then led them on. I fired again and was replied to from the ship.
I was thankful when we got alongside and our prize was hoisted on deck. Coarse as was the meat it was eaten with as much gusto as if it had been some delicate luxury.
While we were in the act of stowing away the blubber, the ship began to move and the ice round us to heave. Every instant the motion increased, and the scene I have before described was enacted but in a more fearful degree. The ship groaned and strained, and the masts quivered as if about to fall. The masses of ice on the outer floe began to break up, and in a few seconds rushed over the more level parts, some remaining with their edges towards the sky, others falling with tremendous crashes and shivering into pieces. We could see some through the gloom rising high above our decks, and we knew at any moment that they might come toppling down upon us and crush the stout ship. Our sense of hearing, indeed, told us more clearly than our eyes what was taking place. The captain, in a calm voice, ordered the crew to make preparations for quitting the ship. The boats were swung out on the davits, so that they could be lowered in a moment, with sails, provisions, and tools ready to put into them, while the men brought up their bags and blankets, and put on their warm clothing. The doctor got his medicine chest ready; the armourer opened the magazine and divided the arms and ammunition. Sacks for sleeping in were added to the articles, and all stood waiting for the order we expected every moment to receive to quit the ship. We stamped about the decks in vain attempting to keep ourselves warm, for no fires had been lighted, lest the stoves being overturned might set the ship in flames.
All night long the fearful uproar continued, the ice pressing with greater and greater force against the sides of the ship. The carpenter was ordered to sound the well. He reported that the water was rushing in through unseen leaks.
Should the ship sink our fate would be sealed. Our hope was that she might be pressed up on the ice, and that the wreck might preserve us during the winter. At daylight the pressure ceased, but out hope of saving the ship was gone. On examination it was found that many of her stout ribs were broken and her planks forced in, while she herself was lifted several feet above the level of the ice. This made it probable that instead of sinking, should a further pressure ensue, she would be forced up altogether our of the water. We spent the rest of that anxious day in making further preparations for quitting the ship. Yet another night we remained on board, when in the middle watch we were aroused by the boatswain’s voice, summoning the men to leave the ship. The fearful commotion of the ice showed that there was no time to lose. The boats were lowered and dragged off towards the centre of the floe. Every man knew what he had to do and worked steadily, and the articles which had been prepared were placed near the boats. The crew worked like a party of ants toiling backwards and forwards, struggling on with loads on their backs, which under ordinary circumstances they could scarcely have attempted to carry. Our fear was that the masts might fall before our task was accomplished. Mercifully, time was given us. Nothing of absolute necessity remained, and we were engaged in setting up a couple of tents which might afford us shelter until we could erect ice houses.
As day broke we saw the masts of our ship swaying to and fro, while the huge hull, as if by some mighty force below, was lifted up, and then down they came, the foremast first, dragging the mainmast and mizen mast, and the vessel lay a forlorn wreck on the top of the ice.
“It is far better to have her so, than at the bottom of the sea, lads,” exclaimed Sandy, “so don’t let us despair; though she’ll not carry us home, she’ll give us stuff to build a house, and enough firewood to last us through the winter. We’re a precious deal better off than many poor fellows have been.”
Not allowing the men a moment to think of their misfortunes, the captain at once set them the task of building a house, partly from the planking of the ship, and partly with ice. It consisted of an inner chamber with two outer ones, and a long passage leading to it, and several doors, so that the outer could be closed before the inner were opened. We had a sky-light, made from a piece of double glass on the top, and a chimney to afford ventilation and to allow the smoke to escape. While the men were engaged in forming it, the captain, my brother, Ewen and I set off to reach the summit of a berg with our sextants and spy-glasses, hoping that from thence, while we took observations we might catch sight of the Greenland coast. We carried with us also a small flag and staff, which we might plant on the top should our expedition prove successful.
The labour of walking over the hummocky ice was great, for though at a distance it looked tolerably level, we had constantly to be climbing up and sliding down elevations of considerable height. As the days were getting short, we had little time to spare. We had to keep a look-out also for holes which exist often in thick ice, kept open by whales and other monsters of the deep which come up to breathe.
“I hope that we may fall in with bears,” said Ewen; “the chances are, some old fellow will scent us out.”
“I shall be very glad to see them,” answered the captain. “It would prove that the moveable floes are already connected with the land-ice, as bears very seldom swim across a broad channel; but I fear that this immense field on which we stand is still drifting northward, and that none will venture off to us.”
At last we got to the foot of the berg for which we were aiming, and commenced its ascent.
“Why it’s a mountain and not an iceberg!” cried Ewen. “I see rocks projecting out of it.”
The captain laughed.
“Those are mere stones sticking to it,” observed Andrew; “they were torn off when the berg was separated from the glacier of which it once formed a part. Vast rocks, far larger than those we see, were at one period of our globe’s history, carried over the surface to great distances, and deposited in spots where they are now found, while the marks produced by the bergs are still visible in many localities. If this berg were to be stranded on some distant shore, it would gradually melt leaving the rocks it carries behind it, which a geologist would perceive had no connection with any strata in the neighbourhood, and he would, therefore, at once justly conclude that the rocks had been brought to the spot by a berg.”
These remarks were made as we stopped to rest on our way up. We quickly, however, continued the ascent. Andrew, who carried the flag, was first to reach the top, and, waving it above his head, shouted “Land, land!” then, working away with an axe, he dug a hole in which he planted the staff.
We all soon joined him, when, descending a short distance, the captain surveyed the distant coast, now turning his glass horizontally, now up at the sky. I asked him what he was looking at.
“Curious as it may seem, I can see the shape of the mountains in the sky better than by directing my glass at them; besides which I observe a dark line which indicates a broad channel running between us and the land-ice. It shows that I am right in my conjectures, and that the field is still moving northward. It must come to a stop one day, and when it does we must be prepared for even more violent commotions than we have yet experienced.”
The captain calculated that the land we saw was nearly thirty miles off, and that the channel ran about midway between us and it.
It was a question whether we should attempt this long journey during the autumn, or wait for the return of spring, spending our winter in our houses on the ice. The point could only be decided when the field ceased to move. One thing was certain, it would be impossible to get the boats over the hummocky ice, and thus we must depend upon our feet to reach the shore, while we dragged our stores after us.
“We must wait no longer here, lads,” said the captain who had just finished his observation. “If we do we shall be benighted, and may have to spend a long night without shelter.”
We hurried down the berg and directed our course towards the ship, but whether or not we should reach her appeared doubtful.
Chapter Seven.It was evening when we got back to the encampment. On casting our eyes towards the ship, her appearance, as she lay overlapped with masses of ice on her beam ends, could not fail to produce a melancholy feeling.“She’ll never float again!” exclaimed the captain with a sigh. “We must make the best of things, however, as they are.”The men had progressed with the house. It was already habitable, though much more was to be done to enable us to bear the piercing cold of an arctic winter.Next day was employed in getting everything out of the ship, which could be reached, likely to be useful, as she could no longer afford us a safe shelter. We began to cut away the bulwarks, the upper planks, and indeed all the wood we could get at, to serve for fuel as well as to strengthen the house. While thus employed, the fearful sounds from which we had for some time been free, again assailed our ears. There was a sudden movement of our floe, while all around us, and especially to the northward, we could see the ice heaving and tumbling, huge masses falling over, and floes rising one above another. Should our floe be subject to the same violent pressure, a slab might slide over it and sweep us to destruction. Even should some of the more active manage to climb to the top, our house and boats and stores must inevitably be lost, and those who might have escaped at first would, ere long, be frozen to death.The hours we thus passed, not knowing at what moment the catastrophe might occur, were terrible in the extreme. To work was impossible. At length, however, the disturbance ceased. The intense cold quickly congealed the broken masses together, and we were able to turn in and sleep soundly.The next day all was quiet. The captain was of opinion that we should move no further north, and that, should our floe become detached, we might expect to drift to the southward.The captain’s observations showed that at present we were stationary, but it was still doubtful whether our floe was or was not united to the main body. The captain, Mr Patterson, my brother, the boatswain and I, had been discussing the subject one evening as we sat in the hut, and were afterwards talking of the Aurora Borealis when I agreed to go out and ascertain if any of peculiar brilliancy was visible.On emerging from the hut, I gazed up at the sky. An Aurora was blazing brilliantly, forming an irregular arch, from which showers of rays of many colours spread in every direction. I was watching it with intense admiration, and was intending to go back and call my companions, when one of the dogs which had followed me gave a loud bark. It was answered by a growl. Looking over the ice I saw two enormous shaggy monsters, who, sniffing the air, advanced cautiously towards me. The brave dog dashed forward. In vain I called him to return.Satisfied that our visitors were Polar bears which must have come from the main land, I hurried back, closing the door behind me to prevent them from entering. The captain, mate, and my brother seized their rifles, as I did mine, hoping to kill one or both of the intruders. As we opened the door, a loud cry uttered by a dog reached our ears. One of the bears had seized the animal and was carrying him off, satisfied with his prize. The other was creeping on towards the hut. Our bullets quickly settled him, and he rolled over. We then gave chase to the other who was carrying off the dog, but we were compelled to stop and reload, and by the time we had done this, so rapidly did the animal run that he was far beyond our reach, and all hope of rescuing our canine companion was over. We regretted the loss of the brave dog. It was a lesson to us not to let the others loose until we were ready to assist in attacking any similar visitors. The bear was quickly skinned and cut up. The skin would serve us for clothing, the fat for fuel, the meat for food. This visit of the bears showed us that the field of which our floe formed part must be attached to the land-ice. Our captain being anxious to visit the shore, intending, should a favourable spot be found, to form our winter quarters on it—we agreed to set out the next morning.Much to our disappointment, when the time came, the captain was unable to go. He was very unwell, and my brother forbade him to take the journey. As he did not improve, Andrew was unable to leave him, and it was finally settled that the mate, Sandy, Ewen, Croil, another man, and I should form the party to proceed to the land. We had a small sledge which had been manufactured some time before. To this we attached our remaining dogs, and loaded it with stores of ammunition and provisions, including food for the dogs. Each of us carried also a small load as well as our rifles and long poles to assist our progress. Our companions cheered us as we set off, several accompanying us part of the way from the camp. We were by this time pretty well accustomed to travelling over the ice, but we had great difficulty in making our dogs, who had not been well trained, pull together, and the mate, losing patience, declared that he would rather drag the sledge himself, and that he wished the dogs back again.“If he were to try it for half an hour he would change his tone,” observed Sandy to me; “the doggies will get along well enough in a few days.”“In a few days!” I exclaimed, “I thought that we should get to the shore by nightfall.”“Many a night will fall before we reach it,” answered Sandy. “If we could go in a straight line over smooth ice, at a jog trot, the case would be different. We shall have to make our way in and out among the bergs and hummocks, and maybe to take a long circumbendibus to avoid any waterholes in our course; we are very likely to fall in with some, solid as the ice appears hereabouts.”I soon found that Sandy was perfectly correct in his prognostications. For the early part of the first day we got on well enough. We had our choice of climbing over numerous ridges from ten to twenty feet in height, or going round until we could find a passage between them. We had thus made less than three miles when the night closed in on us. We then put up our tent, lighted our lamp, and crept into our sleeping sacks. Though our quarters were rather close, we were more comfortable than I could have supposed possible. We had a long night, and with the first streaks of dawn, having breakfasted inside our tent on coffee boiled over the lamp, we again proceeded. Our dogs, I should have said, slept outside, and they formed a sufficient guard to give us notice should any bears approach.The next day we made even less progress than on the first, though we met with no accident to hinder us. Sometimes we dragged the sledge over the hummocks, and sometimes we went round them, the dogs preferring the former method, as while we toiled they sat up on their tails watching our proceedings with infinite satisfaction.The next night I was awakened by hearing a rustling sound, which I guessed was snow falling, but I soon dropped asleep again forgetting all about it. In the morning I saw that the sides of the tent were considerably pressed in, and on drawing aside the curtain which closed the front, a mass of snow fell inside. Looking out, what was our dismay to find that we were entirely surrounded. Travelling which was before difficult would now be doubly so. However, on further examination we found that, having chosen a sheltered spot under a hummock, the snow had drifted round us.We easily, therefore, forced our way out, roused up the half-buried dogs, whose noses showed their whereabouts, and having taken our morning meal doubled up our tent and then trudged forward, Sandy leading. We followed in line, thus making a path for the dogs who without difficulty kept up with us. Before long we came to a berg from which extended north and south a line of hummocks. It seemed to bar further progress. To ascertain which course to pursue, we agreed to climb to the top of the berg, leaving Ewen and Croil to take charge of the sledge. The mate, Sandy, and I, at once commenced the ascent. It was no easy work, and we ran great risk of slipping down again and breaking our limbs. Still, by persevering, the top at length was gained. We could see the land very clearly to the westward, and between it and us the ice appeared far more level than any we had hitherto passed over. To the north it was utterly impracticable. To the southward we discovered a passage which we hoped to reach in the course of the day. The mate’s belief was that we were close upon the land-ice, and that by pushing on we could reach it by nightfall.Having made these observations we prepared to descend, but we found that the chance of falling when doing so would be far greater than when ascending. It appeared, however, from where we stood, that there was a slope on the southern side where we might get down with comparative ease. There was, however, a projecting ledge which must be knocked away before we could reach the slope. We had brought ropes with us, and Sandy passing one round his waist, begged the mate and me to hold it at the other end while he advanced with his staff at the point of which he had secured a huge lump of ice. Using this us a sledge hammer, he began knocking away at the ledge, and after a few blows the whole mass giving way went thundering down the slope.“It’s just as well to clear that off,” he observed, “or it might have come down on our heads.”This was the more likely when he told us that he had observed a deep crack, which had induced him to make the attempt to knock the ledge away.We now descended and rejoined Ewen and his companions, who had been greatly alarmed at seeing the mass of ice come rattling down, supposing that some accident had happened to us, while they had with difficulty restrained the dogs from galloping away from them.We now directed our course southward, and were not disappointed in finding a passage through the hummocks, which enabled us to get on the smoother land-ice. We had, however, soon to camp. To render our tent warm, having cleared away the snow, we built a wall round it which sheltered us from the wind.On the evening of the second day after this, we reached the shore, which rose bleak and barren before us. Yet it was a satisfaction to set our feet on firm ground. We landed in a small bay, the shore for a short distance shelving up to the foot of the cliffs, which—as they extended round to the east—would, we agreed, afford us shelter from the more bitter blasts of winter. The rocks were bare and rugged. Here and there a few lichens appeared, which to our eyes, long unaccustomed to anything of a green tint, seemed very pleasant.“This will do!” cried the mate, “if our shipmates can reach this, we may pass the winter far better than we should have done on the open floe.”As we had but a few more minutes of daylight, we hurriedly pitched our tent on a level spot close under the rocks, piling up the snow around it as before.The mate was anxious to return at once with the news of our success, and to guide the party to the shore. He hoped, with a good night’s rest, to be able to set off early in the morning, and to perform a great part of the distance before nightfall.Sandy suggested, that it would be as well if some of us remained, as it would be necessary to carry but few articles on the sledge, and the dogs would the more easily perform the journey. He offered to go with Ewen and Croil, but to this the mate would not agree, and announced his intention to set off with Croil, leaving the rest of us to build a snow-hut for the reception of the party.We had brought, I should have said, a couple of lamps with sufficient oil. We were therefore provided with one of the chief necessaries of life. We hoped also to shoot a bear, or perhaps some birds, to increase our stock of provisions.When morning returned, however, a storm was blowing outside the bay, though within we were tolerably sheltered from its fury. To have attempted to cross the ice while it continued would have been madness.The mate and Sandy therefore assisted us in putting up a hut. We had abundance of snow from a drift collected on the opposite side of the bay, though we soon exhausted that which lay immediately round us. The storm, however, increased to such an extent that we were compelled to take shelter within our tent, which, had it not been surrounded by a snow wall, would inevitably have been blown down. As we sat crowded together in our tent, waiting for the cessation of the storm, the howling and roaring of the wind among the rocks in no way served to raise our spirits, but rather increased the gloomy forebodings of evil which stole over us.The mate announced his intention of taking a look round, to see what prospect there was of the weather clearing.“Stay here, lads,” he said, taking up his gun, “there’s no reason why you should be exposed to the cold. I’m more accustomed to it than you are.”“Not more than me, sir,” said Sandy; “I’ll go with you, if you like.”“No, no, boatswain. You stay and look after the others. You are older than I am, at all events, and require more rest.”Saying this the mate went out and closed the door of the tent.Ewen, Croil, and the seaman were asleep. Sandy and I talked on for some time.“Wonder the mate doesn’t come back,” said the boatswain. “I’m afraid something has happened to him. He can’t have lost his way on the ice, but he may have slipped over a rock, or into a seal hole, if any are to be found close in shore.”We waited a little longer, and at length Sandy, starting up, exclaimed, “We must go and look for him.”Just then our ears were saluted by a loud roar, which made the rest of the party jump up. We all hastened out. No one was to be seen.“Where did the sound come from?” asked Sandy. “I thought it was quite near.”“From the other side of the rock,” I answered.We hastened towards the spot, in the direction to which I pointed. We all had our guns in our hands ready for an encounter with a bear, which we expected to see. What was my horror on getting round the rock to discover the mate on the ground, a huge shaggy monster standing over him. We crept on, afraid, should we shout, that the bear might carry off his victim. Whether the mate was dead or alive, we could not tell, but he lay perfectly still. Sandy was leading, but he was not a first-rate shot, and I would rather have trusted to my own rifle. At last the bear made a movement, and Sandy, thinking he was going to bite the mate, fired, but he only wounded the animal in the back. What was my horror to see it seize the mate by the body and scamper off with him. We all fired, but dared not aim at the animal’s head, believing that the mate was still alive, for fear of killing him. I stopped to reload, as did Ewen.“After him, lads,” shouted Sandy, but the bear was far too fleet for us to overtake, and to our grief and dismay disappeared with his victim behind the rocks to the northward.We searched in vain for our companion. Though we traced the way the bear had gone by the crimson stains on the white snow, it convinced us that the poor mate was killed. To follow further would have been useless. With sad hearts we returned to our tent, almost frozen by the cold blast, to spend the most melancholy night we had yet passed.We had now to settle on our future proceedings. Sandy had become the leader of the party. He proposed returning to the ship, but none of us wished to be left behind, and preferred rather to undergo the toils and risks of the journey than to remain on shore. But of this Sandy would not hear. He declared that he could go very well with only one of us, and that the other three by remaining—I acting as officer—could manage well enough by ourselves.At last I gave in, and Sandy with the seaman set off as soon as the wind had abated. We watched them as they made their way over the plain of ice, their forms diminishing into mere dots, then finally disappearing. We in the meantime were working away to complete our hut and to render it as habitable as possible. The flesh of the bear we had killed afforded us an ample supply of food, while the fat served to increase our stock of fuel. There was probably drift-wood on the shore, but except a few pieces which stuck up above the snow, we could obtain none. We took care of every scrap we could find, not to burn, but to manufacture into such articles as we might require. In the crevices of the rocks we discovered some low creeping plants which in any other region would have been bushes, but were here a mere collection of twigs, no thicker than our little fingers, just appearing above the ground. We agreed that each should take certain duties, and it was settled that Croil should stay at home and look after the hut, employing himself in either cooking or scraping the bear’s skin to make it fit for use as a covering. Should we kill a sufficient number of bears, we intended to fasten the skins of some of them together so as to form a roof to our hut, while others would make great-coats or bed coverings.Soon after Sandy and his companion had departed, Ewen and I took our guns both for the sake of exercise and to try and shoot bears, reindeers, or musk-oxen which we thought it possible might be found in that region. We were not aware that the latter animals had migrated southward by that time, or indeed that they were likely to be found only on level ground where the depth of the snow was not sufficient to prevent them from getting at the moss or lichens beneath. I was thankful to have Ewen as my companion. He had greatly improved since he came on board and showed that he possessed qualities which I did not before suspect, so that I felt for him as I should for a brother. The atmosphere had become calm and comparatively warm though the snow remained hard and crisp.Ewen and I kept under the cliffs and were tempted to make our way much further south than we had hitherto gone, in the hopes of discovering some opening into the interior of the country. We at last reached a part of the cliffs where, though very rugged, they were less precipitous than in other parts. The sun was sinking behind them, but we still had abundance of daylight for exploring. Ewen offered to climb to the top in the hopes of obtaining an extensive view and perhaps of finding level ground where we should have the chance of finding deer or oxen. There was no reason why we should both run the risk, for a risk there was, though a slight one.“Let me make the attempt alone, while you remain below, and point out to me the best path to take,” he said.I did not much like to do this, but he declared that if I insisted on going he would give up the expedition. As I saw the sense of his proposal, I consented, and he commenced climbing up, rifle in hand. He had gone some distance when I saw a creature creeping along the rocks above his head, and directly afterwards, as it came more into sight, I saw that it was a huge bear. I shouted to him, to draw his attention to it, should he not have discovered the animal. He stopped and began to descend to a position from whence he could take a steady aim at the monster, should it come within his reach. What was my horror directly afterwards to see two other bears crawling out from among the rocks by which they had hitherto been concealed, evidently having discovered him. It seemed impossible that he should escape. I shouted to him, when he again began clambering up the rock. To my dismay, as he did so the first bear crawled down and seated itself on a point so as to intercept him.The two other creatures got closer and closer with the evident intention of seizing him. I trembled for his safety, and hurried to the nearest spot from which I could take a steady aim.“Never mind the fellow above you,” I shouted. “If you will shoot the ere nearest to you, I will manage the other, and we will then tackle the third if he attempts to come down.”I could well enter into Ewen’s feelings. It was surprising, in the perilous position in which he was placed, that he should have retained any presence of mind.Following my advice, he sat himself down on the rock and took aim, waiting until I should fire.“Now!” I cried, and we both pulled our triggers at the same moment.I own that I trembled lest either one or both of us might miss, in which case it seemed impossible that he should escape destruction. As the smoke cleared away from before my eyes, I saw the bears in motion, but instead of advancing they both fell back and came tumbling down the cliff close to where I was standing. I rapidly loaded, as did Ewen. We had still another antagonist to contend with, whom he must tackle alone, for I could not help him.Just as I expected to see the bear crawling down the rocks to seize my friend, to my infinite satisfaction, the creature, alarmed by the reports, turned tail and began clambering up the cliff.I shouted to Ewen not to shoot, as, should he only wound the bear, it might in its rage turn and attack him. I also had to look after one of the others, who though wounded, was not dead, and recovering from its fall, was looking about apparently for the foe who had injured it. On espying me it began to advance, growling furiously. As blood was flowing from behind its shoulder, I hoped that it might soon drop, but in the meantime it might tear me to pieces, and perhaps treat Ewen in the same way. To run from a bear is at all times very dangerous, unless to gain protection of some sort at no great distance; for the bear—clumsy as it looks—can run much faster than a man. I, therefore, having reloaded my rifle, stood with it ready to send a shot through the animal’s head. I waited until the wounded bear was almost close upon me, and I could not refrain from uttering a shout of satisfaction as it rolled over perfectly dead. Ewen in the meantime, approaching the other, had finished it by firing a bullet through its head.“I wish that we had the sledge to take home the meat and skins,” observed Ewen, “but we must carry as much as we can.”Our fear was that, should we leave the meat, other bears, of whom there appeared to be a whole colony in the neighbourhood, would come and devour it. We managed to get off the skins, which were likely to prove most valuable to us; and, loaded with them and a portion of the meat, we returned to the hut, where we found Croil anxiously looking out for us. He too, had seen a couple of bears moving across the bay, and was afraid that we might have been attacked by them, and suffered the fate of the poor mate.
It was evening when we got back to the encampment. On casting our eyes towards the ship, her appearance, as she lay overlapped with masses of ice on her beam ends, could not fail to produce a melancholy feeling.
“She’ll never float again!” exclaimed the captain with a sigh. “We must make the best of things, however, as they are.”
The men had progressed with the house. It was already habitable, though much more was to be done to enable us to bear the piercing cold of an arctic winter.
Next day was employed in getting everything out of the ship, which could be reached, likely to be useful, as she could no longer afford us a safe shelter. We began to cut away the bulwarks, the upper planks, and indeed all the wood we could get at, to serve for fuel as well as to strengthen the house. While thus employed, the fearful sounds from which we had for some time been free, again assailed our ears. There was a sudden movement of our floe, while all around us, and especially to the northward, we could see the ice heaving and tumbling, huge masses falling over, and floes rising one above another. Should our floe be subject to the same violent pressure, a slab might slide over it and sweep us to destruction. Even should some of the more active manage to climb to the top, our house and boats and stores must inevitably be lost, and those who might have escaped at first would, ere long, be frozen to death.
The hours we thus passed, not knowing at what moment the catastrophe might occur, were terrible in the extreme. To work was impossible. At length, however, the disturbance ceased. The intense cold quickly congealed the broken masses together, and we were able to turn in and sleep soundly.
The next day all was quiet. The captain was of opinion that we should move no further north, and that, should our floe become detached, we might expect to drift to the southward.
The captain’s observations showed that at present we were stationary, but it was still doubtful whether our floe was or was not united to the main body. The captain, Mr Patterson, my brother, the boatswain and I, had been discussing the subject one evening as we sat in the hut, and were afterwards talking of the Aurora Borealis when I agreed to go out and ascertain if any of peculiar brilliancy was visible.
On emerging from the hut, I gazed up at the sky. An Aurora was blazing brilliantly, forming an irregular arch, from which showers of rays of many colours spread in every direction. I was watching it with intense admiration, and was intending to go back and call my companions, when one of the dogs which had followed me gave a loud bark. It was answered by a growl. Looking over the ice I saw two enormous shaggy monsters, who, sniffing the air, advanced cautiously towards me. The brave dog dashed forward. In vain I called him to return.
Satisfied that our visitors were Polar bears which must have come from the main land, I hurried back, closing the door behind me to prevent them from entering. The captain, mate, and my brother seized their rifles, as I did mine, hoping to kill one or both of the intruders. As we opened the door, a loud cry uttered by a dog reached our ears. One of the bears had seized the animal and was carrying him off, satisfied with his prize. The other was creeping on towards the hut. Our bullets quickly settled him, and he rolled over. We then gave chase to the other who was carrying off the dog, but we were compelled to stop and reload, and by the time we had done this, so rapidly did the animal run that he was far beyond our reach, and all hope of rescuing our canine companion was over. We regretted the loss of the brave dog. It was a lesson to us not to let the others loose until we were ready to assist in attacking any similar visitors. The bear was quickly skinned and cut up. The skin would serve us for clothing, the fat for fuel, the meat for food. This visit of the bears showed us that the field of which our floe formed part must be attached to the land-ice. Our captain being anxious to visit the shore, intending, should a favourable spot be found, to form our winter quarters on it—we agreed to set out the next morning.
Much to our disappointment, when the time came, the captain was unable to go. He was very unwell, and my brother forbade him to take the journey. As he did not improve, Andrew was unable to leave him, and it was finally settled that the mate, Sandy, Ewen, Croil, another man, and I should form the party to proceed to the land. We had a small sledge which had been manufactured some time before. To this we attached our remaining dogs, and loaded it with stores of ammunition and provisions, including food for the dogs. Each of us carried also a small load as well as our rifles and long poles to assist our progress. Our companions cheered us as we set off, several accompanying us part of the way from the camp. We were by this time pretty well accustomed to travelling over the ice, but we had great difficulty in making our dogs, who had not been well trained, pull together, and the mate, losing patience, declared that he would rather drag the sledge himself, and that he wished the dogs back again.
“If he were to try it for half an hour he would change his tone,” observed Sandy to me; “the doggies will get along well enough in a few days.”
“In a few days!” I exclaimed, “I thought that we should get to the shore by nightfall.”
“Many a night will fall before we reach it,” answered Sandy. “If we could go in a straight line over smooth ice, at a jog trot, the case would be different. We shall have to make our way in and out among the bergs and hummocks, and maybe to take a long circumbendibus to avoid any waterholes in our course; we are very likely to fall in with some, solid as the ice appears hereabouts.”
I soon found that Sandy was perfectly correct in his prognostications. For the early part of the first day we got on well enough. We had our choice of climbing over numerous ridges from ten to twenty feet in height, or going round until we could find a passage between them. We had thus made less than three miles when the night closed in on us. We then put up our tent, lighted our lamp, and crept into our sleeping sacks. Though our quarters were rather close, we were more comfortable than I could have supposed possible. We had a long night, and with the first streaks of dawn, having breakfasted inside our tent on coffee boiled over the lamp, we again proceeded. Our dogs, I should have said, slept outside, and they formed a sufficient guard to give us notice should any bears approach.
The next day we made even less progress than on the first, though we met with no accident to hinder us. Sometimes we dragged the sledge over the hummocks, and sometimes we went round them, the dogs preferring the former method, as while we toiled they sat up on their tails watching our proceedings with infinite satisfaction.
The next night I was awakened by hearing a rustling sound, which I guessed was snow falling, but I soon dropped asleep again forgetting all about it. In the morning I saw that the sides of the tent were considerably pressed in, and on drawing aside the curtain which closed the front, a mass of snow fell inside. Looking out, what was our dismay to find that we were entirely surrounded. Travelling which was before difficult would now be doubly so. However, on further examination we found that, having chosen a sheltered spot under a hummock, the snow had drifted round us.
We easily, therefore, forced our way out, roused up the half-buried dogs, whose noses showed their whereabouts, and having taken our morning meal doubled up our tent and then trudged forward, Sandy leading. We followed in line, thus making a path for the dogs who without difficulty kept up with us. Before long we came to a berg from which extended north and south a line of hummocks. It seemed to bar further progress. To ascertain which course to pursue, we agreed to climb to the top of the berg, leaving Ewen and Croil to take charge of the sledge. The mate, Sandy, and I, at once commenced the ascent. It was no easy work, and we ran great risk of slipping down again and breaking our limbs. Still, by persevering, the top at length was gained. We could see the land very clearly to the westward, and between it and us the ice appeared far more level than any we had hitherto passed over. To the north it was utterly impracticable. To the southward we discovered a passage which we hoped to reach in the course of the day. The mate’s belief was that we were close upon the land-ice, and that by pushing on we could reach it by nightfall.
Having made these observations we prepared to descend, but we found that the chance of falling when doing so would be far greater than when ascending. It appeared, however, from where we stood, that there was a slope on the southern side where we might get down with comparative ease. There was, however, a projecting ledge which must be knocked away before we could reach the slope. We had brought ropes with us, and Sandy passing one round his waist, begged the mate and me to hold it at the other end while he advanced with his staff at the point of which he had secured a huge lump of ice. Using this us a sledge hammer, he began knocking away at the ledge, and after a few blows the whole mass giving way went thundering down the slope.
“It’s just as well to clear that off,” he observed, “or it might have come down on our heads.”
This was the more likely when he told us that he had observed a deep crack, which had induced him to make the attempt to knock the ledge away.
We now descended and rejoined Ewen and his companions, who had been greatly alarmed at seeing the mass of ice come rattling down, supposing that some accident had happened to us, while they had with difficulty restrained the dogs from galloping away from them.
We now directed our course southward, and were not disappointed in finding a passage through the hummocks, which enabled us to get on the smoother land-ice. We had, however, soon to camp. To render our tent warm, having cleared away the snow, we built a wall round it which sheltered us from the wind.
On the evening of the second day after this, we reached the shore, which rose bleak and barren before us. Yet it was a satisfaction to set our feet on firm ground. We landed in a small bay, the shore for a short distance shelving up to the foot of the cliffs, which—as they extended round to the east—would, we agreed, afford us shelter from the more bitter blasts of winter. The rocks were bare and rugged. Here and there a few lichens appeared, which to our eyes, long unaccustomed to anything of a green tint, seemed very pleasant.
“This will do!” cried the mate, “if our shipmates can reach this, we may pass the winter far better than we should have done on the open floe.”
As we had but a few more minutes of daylight, we hurriedly pitched our tent on a level spot close under the rocks, piling up the snow around it as before.
The mate was anxious to return at once with the news of our success, and to guide the party to the shore. He hoped, with a good night’s rest, to be able to set off early in the morning, and to perform a great part of the distance before nightfall.
Sandy suggested, that it would be as well if some of us remained, as it would be necessary to carry but few articles on the sledge, and the dogs would the more easily perform the journey. He offered to go with Ewen and Croil, but to this the mate would not agree, and announced his intention to set off with Croil, leaving the rest of us to build a snow-hut for the reception of the party.
We had brought, I should have said, a couple of lamps with sufficient oil. We were therefore provided with one of the chief necessaries of life. We hoped also to shoot a bear, or perhaps some birds, to increase our stock of provisions.
When morning returned, however, a storm was blowing outside the bay, though within we were tolerably sheltered from its fury. To have attempted to cross the ice while it continued would have been madness.
The mate and Sandy therefore assisted us in putting up a hut. We had abundance of snow from a drift collected on the opposite side of the bay, though we soon exhausted that which lay immediately round us. The storm, however, increased to such an extent that we were compelled to take shelter within our tent, which, had it not been surrounded by a snow wall, would inevitably have been blown down. As we sat crowded together in our tent, waiting for the cessation of the storm, the howling and roaring of the wind among the rocks in no way served to raise our spirits, but rather increased the gloomy forebodings of evil which stole over us.
The mate announced his intention of taking a look round, to see what prospect there was of the weather clearing.
“Stay here, lads,” he said, taking up his gun, “there’s no reason why you should be exposed to the cold. I’m more accustomed to it than you are.”
“Not more than me, sir,” said Sandy; “I’ll go with you, if you like.”
“No, no, boatswain. You stay and look after the others. You are older than I am, at all events, and require more rest.”
Saying this the mate went out and closed the door of the tent.
Ewen, Croil, and the seaman were asleep. Sandy and I talked on for some time.
“Wonder the mate doesn’t come back,” said the boatswain. “I’m afraid something has happened to him. He can’t have lost his way on the ice, but he may have slipped over a rock, or into a seal hole, if any are to be found close in shore.”
We waited a little longer, and at length Sandy, starting up, exclaimed, “We must go and look for him.”
Just then our ears were saluted by a loud roar, which made the rest of the party jump up. We all hastened out. No one was to be seen.
“Where did the sound come from?” asked Sandy. “I thought it was quite near.”
“From the other side of the rock,” I answered.
We hastened towards the spot, in the direction to which I pointed. We all had our guns in our hands ready for an encounter with a bear, which we expected to see. What was my horror on getting round the rock to discover the mate on the ground, a huge shaggy monster standing over him. We crept on, afraid, should we shout, that the bear might carry off his victim. Whether the mate was dead or alive, we could not tell, but he lay perfectly still. Sandy was leading, but he was not a first-rate shot, and I would rather have trusted to my own rifle. At last the bear made a movement, and Sandy, thinking he was going to bite the mate, fired, but he only wounded the animal in the back. What was my horror to see it seize the mate by the body and scamper off with him. We all fired, but dared not aim at the animal’s head, believing that the mate was still alive, for fear of killing him. I stopped to reload, as did Ewen.
“After him, lads,” shouted Sandy, but the bear was far too fleet for us to overtake, and to our grief and dismay disappeared with his victim behind the rocks to the northward.
We searched in vain for our companion. Though we traced the way the bear had gone by the crimson stains on the white snow, it convinced us that the poor mate was killed. To follow further would have been useless. With sad hearts we returned to our tent, almost frozen by the cold blast, to spend the most melancholy night we had yet passed.
We had now to settle on our future proceedings. Sandy had become the leader of the party. He proposed returning to the ship, but none of us wished to be left behind, and preferred rather to undergo the toils and risks of the journey than to remain on shore. But of this Sandy would not hear. He declared that he could go very well with only one of us, and that the other three by remaining—I acting as officer—could manage well enough by ourselves.
At last I gave in, and Sandy with the seaman set off as soon as the wind had abated. We watched them as they made their way over the plain of ice, their forms diminishing into mere dots, then finally disappearing. We in the meantime were working away to complete our hut and to render it as habitable as possible. The flesh of the bear we had killed afforded us an ample supply of food, while the fat served to increase our stock of fuel. There was probably drift-wood on the shore, but except a few pieces which stuck up above the snow, we could obtain none. We took care of every scrap we could find, not to burn, but to manufacture into such articles as we might require. In the crevices of the rocks we discovered some low creeping plants which in any other region would have been bushes, but were here a mere collection of twigs, no thicker than our little fingers, just appearing above the ground. We agreed that each should take certain duties, and it was settled that Croil should stay at home and look after the hut, employing himself in either cooking or scraping the bear’s skin to make it fit for use as a covering. Should we kill a sufficient number of bears, we intended to fasten the skins of some of them together so as to form a roof to our hut, while others would make great-coats or bed coverings.
Soon after Sandy and his companion had departed, Ewen and I took our guns both for the sake of exercise and to try and shoot bears, reindeers, or musk-oxen which we thought it possible might be found in that region. We were not aware that the latter animals had migrated southward by that time, or indeed that they were likely to be found only on level ground where the depth of the snow was not sufficient to prevent them from getting at the moss or lichens beneath. I was thankful to have Ewen as my companion. He had greatly improved since he came on board and showed that he possessed qualities which I did not before suspect, so that I felt for him as I should for a brother. The atmosphere had become calm and comparatively warm though the snow remained hard and crisp.
Ewen and I kept under the cliffs and were tempted to make our way much further south than we had hitherto gone, in the hopes of discovering some opening into the interior of the country. We at last reached a part of the cliffs where, though very rugged, they were less precipitous than in other parts. The sun was sinking behind them, but we still had abundance of daylight for exploring. Ewen offered to climb to the top in the hopes of obtaining an extensive view and perhaps of finding level ground where we should have the chance of finding deer or oxen. There was no reason why we should both run the risk, for a risk there was, though a slight one.
“Let me make the attempt alone, while you remain below, and point out to me the best path to take,” he said.
I did not much like to do this, but he declared that if I insisted on going he would give up the expedition. As I saw the sense of his proposal, I consented, and he commenced climbing up, rifle in hand. He had gone some distance when I saw a creature creeping along the rocks above his head, and directly afterwards, as it came more into sight, I saw that it was a huge bear. I shouted to him, to draw his attention to it, should he not have discovered the animal. He stopped and began to descend to a position from whence he could take a steady aim at the monster, should it come within his reach. What was my horror directly afterwards to see two other bears crawling out from among the rocks by which they had hitherto been concealed, evidently having discovered him. It seemed impossible that he should escape. I shouted to him, when he again began clambering up the rock. To my dismay, as he did so the first bear crawled down and seated itself on a point so as to intercept him.
The two other creatures got closer and closer with the evident intention of seizing him. I trembled for his safety, and hurried to the nearest spot from which I could take a steady aim.
“Never mind the fellow above you,” I shouted. “If you will shoot the ere nearest to you, I will manage the other, and we will then tackle the third if he attempts to come down.”
I could well enter into Ewen’s feelings. It was surprising, in the perilous position in which he was placed, that he should have retained any presence of mind.
Following my advice, he sat himself down on the rock and took aim, waiting until I should fire.
“Now!” I cried, and we both pulled our triggers at the same moment.
I own that I trembled lest either one or both of us might miss, in which case it seemed impossible that he should escape destruction. As the smoke cleared away from before my eyes, I saw the bears in motion, but instead of advancing they both fell back and came tumbling down the cliff close to where I was standing. I rapidly loaded, as did Ewen. We had still another antagonist to contend with, whom he must tackle alone, for I could not help him.
Just as I expected to see the bear crawling down the rocks to seize my friend, to my infinite satisfaction, the creature, alarmed by the reports, turned tail and began clambering up the cliff.
I shouted to Ewen not to shoot, as, should he only wound the bear, it might in its rage turn and attack him. I also had to look after one of the others, who though wounded, was not dead, and recovering from its fall, was looking about apparently for the foe who had injured it. On espying me it began to advance, growling furiously. As blood was flowing from behind its shoulder, I hoped that it might soon drop, but in the meantime it might tear me to pieces, and perhaps treat Ewen in the same way. To run from a bear is at all times very dangerous, unless to gain protection of some sort at no great distance; for the bear—clumsy as it looks—can run much faster than a man. I, therefore, having reloaded my rifle, stood with it ready to send a shot through the animal’s head. I waited until the wounded bear was almost close upon me, and I could not refrain from uttering a shout of satisfaction as it rolled over perfectly dead. Ewen in the meantime, approaching the other, had finished it by firing a bullet through its head.
“I wish that we had the sledge to take home the meat and skins,” observed Ewen, “but we must carry as much as we can.”
Our fear was that, should we leave the meat, other bears, of whom there appeared to be a whole colony in the neighbourhood, would come and devour it. We managed to get off the skins, which were likely to prove most valuable to us; and, loaded with them and a portion of the meat, we returned to the hut, where we found Croil anxiously looking out for us. He too, had seen a couple of bears moving across the bay, and was afraid that we might have been attacked by them, and suffered the fate of the poor mate.
Chapter Eight.We now waited in anxious expectation for the arrival of our shipmates, but they did not appear. The days were getting shorter, the nights longer. The cold was increasing. Often and often we gazed out over the ice. As far as we could judge no change had taken place in it. A vast snow-covered plain, with here and there mountainous heights of ice could be seen extending as far as the horizon. Unfortunately we had not brought a telescope, or we thought that we might have discovered our friends. At length we began to entertain the most serious apprehensions as to their fate.We had one evening turned in, and, having closed the door of the hut, had lighted our lamp and composed ourselves to sleep, when Ewen roused me up.“I heard a shout!” he exclaimed, “they must be coming.”We slipped into our day clothing, and hurried out, carrying our rifles in our hands, for we never moved without them.Again there was a shout: we replied to it with all our might. Some one was evidently approaching. More clearly to show our position, I fired off my rifle, and sent Croil in to light a small piece of drift-wood the only thing we possessed to serve as a torch. Again and again we shouted: at length we caught sight through the gloom of night of some dark spots moving over the snow.“Hurrah!” cried Ewen, “there are our shipmates!” Soon after he had spoken I discovered three of the dogs dragging the sledge and two men following them. The one was Sandy, the other Hans the seaman.Hurrying forward we led them up to the hut. Sandy could scarcely speak.“We are well-nigh starved, and I thought we should never get back,” he said at length.“Where are our shipmates? Why haven’t they come?” I asked.“I’ll tell you all about it when we have had some food and rest. Can you give us something to eat?”“Plenty,” I answered, leading him and Hans into the hut, while Ewen and Croil unharnessed the poor dogs, who looked well-nigh famished. Ewen gave them some bears’ flesh, and they devoured it with a greediness which showed that they had gone long without a meal.We soon had some slices of meat frying on our stove and some snow melting. After the two weary travellers had eaten, and drank some hot coffee, Sandy gave us the alarming intelligence that he had been unable to reach the camp. On arriving at the edge of the land-ice, what was his dismay to discover a wide gap between it and the field in the midst of which our friends were encamped, and which was in motion drifting southward. Still, hoping that it might again come in contact with the land-ice, he determined to move in the same direction. He caught sight indeed of a flag and what he took to be a portion of the wreck, though at so great a distance that he did not suppose the sound of his rifle, which he fired off, would be heard. No object indeed would have been gained had it been so, as it would have been impossible for one party to communicate with the other. For two days he followed the floe, but the distance between it and the land-ice increased. At length the ice over which he was travelling became so rough that he could proceed no further; he lost sight of the floe and its living freight, and was reluctantly compelled to return for want of food. One of the dogs gave in and it was killed and eaten. The last morsels had been consumed the day before he and Hans reached the hut. Their joy at finding us still there may be imagined, for had we by any chance fallen in with natives and accompanied them to the south, they fully expected to perish.As soon as the meal was over, the two weary travellers lay down to sleep. Croil imitated their example, while Ewen and I sat up by the light of the lamp, I mending clothes and my friend engaged in preparing a small tub for holding bear’s grease to serve us for fuel. Our conversation naturally took a melancholy turn. The thought that the floe on which were my brother and his companions might be dashed to pieces, and that they would perish miserably, was painful in the extreme. We thought more of them, indeed, than of ourselves, though our position was truly perilous. Our only shelter during the intense cold of an Arctic winter was an ice hut. Hitherto the bears we had shot had afforded us food and fuel; but they might take their departure, and we should then have no other food on which to depend, until the return of spring should enable us to kill walruses and seals. No ships, even in the summer, were likely to penetrate so far north, for few whalers had got so near the pole as theHardy Norsemanhad done, and destruction had overtaken her.“Still I have heard that people have wintered in Nova Zembla and Spitzbergen, even with fewer means of supporting themselves than we possess,” observed Ewen. “We must not despair, Hugh, but trust in God; Sandy’s return to us is greatly to our advantage; for with his harpoon, when our powder is expended, he will be able to kill seals, and furnish us with food.”“I am thinking of my brother Andrew, and the hopelessness of finding David,” I replied.“But we do not know that he and the rest of the party are lost, and if your brother David is alive he may still make his escape wherever he may be.”At last Ewen and I, having trimmed the lamp that it might keep alight, and maintain sufficient warmth in the hut, carefully closed the door and lay down to sleep.There was no necessity for keeping a watch as was the case on the floe, nor had we the dread of an attack from hostile natives, for no human beings were likely to come near us. We should have been heartily ready to welcome any Esquimaux should they find us out.I awoke at the usual hour, just before day-break, and getting up trimmed the lamp which had almost gone out, and set to work to prepare breakfast for my companions.After a time I called up Ewen and Croil, but we allowed Sandy and Hans to sleep on, keeping the breakfast ready to give them the moment they should awake. It was noon before they opened their eyes, when having taken the food we offered them they fell asleep again. It was several days, indeed, before they got over the fatigue of their journey.Sandy, when once himself again, was as anxious as any of us to make preparations for passing the winter. We talked of pushing southward to seek a more level region, but the lofty hills in the distance, without the appearance of any spot on which we could land, made us hesitate. As the days were now only of three hours’ duration, we feared that we should not have light for more than a very short journey, and it was impossible to endure the cold for any length of time after the sun had gone down. We had already a good supply of bear’s meat, but it was important to get more. Our store we had buried in a pit close to the hut, so that no roving bears could get at it. They are in no way particular, and would quite as readily feast on the flesh of their relatives as on any other meat. We had frequently seen their tracks made during the night close outside the hut, but they must have taken their departure, like spirits of another world, before dawn. They were not as hungry at this time of the year as they would be further on, when no seals were to be caught and the deer and other animals had migrated southward. At length the sun sank beneath the horizon, not again to rise until the end of a long winter’s night. The cold too had become so intense that we could only keep ourselves warm in the hut with the door closed and the lamp alight, but then it was almost too hot. We had, therefore, to make a window through which we could admit fresh air, without the necessity of opening the door; but when there was any wind we were obliged to fill up the aperture with snow, for the smallest orifice admitted a draught of air which pierced the hand like a needle when held up to it. The poor dogs had to be taken inside, for though we had built kennels for them close to the hut, there was a great risk of their being carried off by bears while we were asleep. Those “monarchs of the realms of ice,” as they are poetically called, had scented us out, and scarcely an hour passed but one made his appearance. Sometimes they got off, though we killed no inconsiderable number, thus adding to our stock of food, while their skins enabled us to make our beds as warm as we could desire. At length, however, they became more daring and troublesome, so that none of us could go out of the hut alone lest we should be carried off.We had expended by this time so much of our powder that we had resolved to use no more of it until the return of spring, when we should require it on our journey southward.How the winter went by I can scarcely describe. We had no books, but were never idle, being always employed in manufacturing articles with our knives, either from bones or pieces of drift-wood, or making shoes and clothing from the bears’ skins.We were thus employed, having opened the window to admit some fresh air, and a few rays of the returning light of day, when, looking up, what should I see but the snout of a bear poked through the aperture, evidently enjoying the odours arising from some steaks frying on our stone.Not at all disconcerted by the shouts we raised, for the sake of getting the savoury morsels, he began scraping away at the snow walls, in which, with his powerful claws, he could speedily have made an alarming breach.Sandy, jumping up with his harpoon, which he had been polishing, in his hand, darted it with all his might at the bear. Fortunately his weapon did not stick in the animal’s throat, or he might, I confidently believe, have pulled down the whole structure in his struggles.Uttering a roar of pain, the bear started back. His roar was repeated by several other bears outside, who must have joined it from sympathy, echoed by the dogs from the inside, who jumped about eager to attack their foes.Ewen was about to open the door, when Sandy stopped him.“Let us see how many of these gentlemen there are outside, for I’ve a notion there are more than we should wish to tackle,” he observed.He and I looked out of the window, when we saw no less than three huge bears close to the hut, while the fellow we had wounded and several others were visible further off, watching the proceedings of their friends, whose evident intention it was to break in if they could, to eat the savoury steaks we were cooking, and us into the bargain. Notwithstanding our intention of not using our fire-arms, we must either kill the baars if we could not drive them off, or run the risk of being torn to pieces by them.As they seemed resolved to pull our hut down for the sake of getting at us, we loaded our fire-arms and prepared for the defence of our fortress. Sandy desired me to take my post at the window, and to shoot down as many as I could, while he with the rest of the party opened the door and sallied out to attack the invaders. I advised him, however, to wait and see the result of my shots, unless the bears should actually begin to tear down the walls. Taking aim at the nearest, I fired. The thick smoke prevented me for some seconds from seeing the effect of my shot. Great was my satisfaction when I perceived the bear struggling on his back in the snow.Ewen then handed me up his rifle, and while he reloaded mine, I took aim at the next bear, which I knocked over in the same fashion as I had the first; but strange to say, their companions, instead of being frightened and running away, came growling up as if resolved to revenge their deaths.On seeing this, Sandy, who was looking over my shoulder, calling the rest of the party, opened the door, and fired a volley, all hands shouting at the same time at the top of their voices.One of the bears fell; the rest, terrified and pursued by the dogs, who bolted out, took to flight. We called off our canine attendants, who were, however, very unwilling to return, coming slowly back, and every now and then facing round and barking furiously at the retreating bears.Four of the animals had been killed, and we had made, as Sandy observed, “a good morning’s work.” It took us some time to cut them up and stow the flesh away in our pit, while the preparation of the skins gave us abundant occupation, though not a pleasant one in the confined hut.Day after day went by; the sun remained longer and longer above the horizon; while the warmth sensibly increased, when there happened to be no wind, although the air was still cold enough to make our thick clothing indispensable.We now began to make preparations for our journey southward, which must be performed before the land-ice should begin to break up.I suggested that some of the party should first make a trip with part of our provisions, sufficient for three or four days, to the south, and there form a depot, so that we might not run the risk of starving should we fail to kill any animals, and this was agreed to.Sandy and I drew lots which of us should go, and which remain at the hut.The lot fell on him to go, and he chose Hans and Croil to accompany him. I confess that I would far rather have gone, but having agreed to the proposal, I felt bound to yield to his wishes.The party set off the next morning with the tent, and as much bear’s meat as they chose to carry, and a portion of the remainder of our other stores. Ewen and I saw them off, not without some forebodings of evil, and then returned to our hut to employ ourselves as usual.We never allowed the time to hang heavily on our hands, though we would have given a great deal for a book of any description, especially for a Bible, for that could have been read over and over again with advantage, whereas any other book would have been quickly got through. We calculated that Sandy would be absent a week or ten days at the utmost. The ten days had elapsed, and Sandy had not appeared; a fearful snow-storm, with a violent wind, had, however, come on, and confined us to the hut, and we concluded that he and his companions had pitched their tent, and had halted until it should be over, and that we might thus expect to see them at any hour.Still days went by after this, and they did not come.“Can they have deserted us?” asked Ewen.“I am sure that they have not willingly done so,” I replied. “Some serious accident I fear may have happened to prevent them from returning.”Our position had now become critical in the extreme. In a short time the ice might leave the shore, and our escape from the bay would be impossible.We resolved at once to set out. Should the party be returning, we might perhaps meet them. If not, we must push on as long as our strength lasted. Having accordingly packed up our meat, our lamp, our stock of oil, and our ammunition, we set out.We might find shelter in some cavern in the cliffs, or if not we could build a snow-hut of sufficient size to contain us. We might even venture to sleep out on calm nights, covered up in our blankets.Before quitting the spot we closed the door of our hut, to prevent the ingress of bears, for we might possibly have to return to it, though as the warmth of the sun increased it would melt away.We trudged on manfully, both feeling in better spirits than we had done for some days. On our right rose lofty cliffs, and occasionally vast masses of ice formed into glaciers a mile or more in extent, while on the left stretched out a vast field of ice, out of which rose numerous bergs of fantastic shapes, but no open water could we discover.For the first day we got on very well. As the light decreased we built a snow-hut in which we could comfortably rest, with an entrance so small that no bear could have suddenly pounced upon us, while we kept our rifles ready to shoot the intruder should one appear. Next night we did the same, though we felt very tired when the work was over, and but little inclined to start the next morning at sunrise. We had, indeed, miscalculated our strength. It seemed easy enough to walk straight ahead over the ice for several hours a day; but we found that, though the ice was sometimes smooth, we had frequently to clamber over hummocks, so that our progress was slower than we had expected. At last Ewen declared that, unless we could take a whole day’s rest, he could go no farther.My fear was lest, while we were inside our hut, Sandy and his companions might pass us. I agreed to take a short journey only, and offered to watch while Ewen slept. This he did not like to let me do, but I over persuaded him, and, while he turned in, I walked about the outside of the hut, sometimes climbing to the top of a hummock near at hand in the hopes of seeing our friends. The day closed in, however, without a single object appearing, and the next morning, Ewen saying that he felt stronger after his rest, we continued our journey.We had been travelling for a couple of hours or more, when we reached a point beyond which a deep bay appeared. Should we go round it, or cross from one side to the other? As far as we could discern, there was nothing to tempt us to go out of our course. The cliffs were more precipitous and lofty than those we had hitherto seen, with intervals of vast glaciers of equal height.We had hitherto had the cliffs to guide us, but now should the snow fall, or the weather become thick, we should not be able to distinguish them. Clear weather was, therefore, of the utmost importance, so, praying that it might continue, we pushed forward.Though we travelled all day, with but a few minutes’ rest to take our food, the opposite side of the bay appeared no nearer than at first. Darkness came on, and not the faintest outline of the cliffs could we discover. It seemed to us, as we crept into our hut, that we were in the midst of the frozen sea. Fatigue happily brought us sound sleep. When we got up in the morning, what was our dismay to find that a violent storm was blowing, and that the snow was falling so thickly that we had great difficulty in forcing our way out of the hut. In a short time we should have been enclosed in what might have proved our tomb. To travel was next to impossible; although on starting we knew the direction to take, we were aware that we might very soon go wrong should the wind change. We therefore remained in our hut, occasionally digging away the snow to keep the passage clear.At last the snow ceased, and as we could make out the faint outlines of the cliffs to the southward, we at once, shouldering our packs, pushed forward. It seemed, however, that we had made no progress when again we had to halt and build a hut.The three next days were but a repetition of those I have described; but now our provisions had greatly decreased, as had our strength. The cliffs on the other side of the bay had not been reached, and when we got there, what were we likely to find? We had to confess to each other that we should not have strength to go much farther. Still, we resolved to struggle on as long as life remained. The snow had again begun to fall, but not with sufficient thickness to compel us to stop. At last Ewen suddenly declared that not another step could he stir. I offered to take his rifle and his pack, but, when I made the attempt to carry them, I found that I was unable to bear an additional load to my own.Poor Ewen sank down. “Go on,” he said; “you may reach human beings, but I fear that you will not.” I could not bear the thought of leaving my friend. Even should I reach the shore and find a settlement, he would be dead before I could return. I proposed again encamping, but he had not strength even to assist in building a hut.While I was endeavouring to encourage him, I fancied that I saw in the distance to the westward some objects moving over the ice. They might be bears—reindeers would scarcely have left the land. I looked more attentively. While I was gazing, the snow almost ceased falling.“Look, Ewen, look!” I shouted, “those are men and sledges. They must be Sandy’s party, but they are too far off to see us. They are coming nearer, however. Rouse up, old fellow; let us try to meet them.”Ewen’s strength seemed suddenly to return. We hurried forward, but we both feared that they might pass by without discovering us. As we got nearer to them we shouted, but our voices were hollow and low, and too probably would not be heard.“I’ll fire my rifle!” I exclaimed. “I wonder that I did not think of doing so at first.”The report had the desired effect. As we watched the strangers, to our joy we saw that they were directing their course towards us. In a short time we were among a party of Esquimaux, who seemed very much surprised at seeing us, though what they said we could not make out.From the direction they had been travelling, we concluded that they were bound to some place on the north side of the bay for the purpose of spending the summer there. We tried to make them understand that if they would turn back and carry us to some place where we should find Europeans, we would give them our rifles, and anything else in our power. After holding a consultation, during which they looked frequently at the sky, they agreed to my proposal. Two of the party, unloading one of the smaller sledges, made signs that Ewen should get upon it. They then packed some provisions they had brought, together with some of our loads and rifles, and signified that they were ready to set off.Having rubbed noses with their friends, who continued their route to the northward, we started in the opposite direction.
We now waited in anxious expectation for the arrival of our shipmates, but they did not appear. The days were getting shorter, the nights longer. The cold was increasing. Often and often we gazed out over the ice. As far as we could judge no change had taken place in it. A vast snow-covered plain, with here and there mountainous heights of ice could be seen extending as far as the horizon. Unfortunately we had not brought a telescope, or we thought that we might have discovered our friends. At length we began to entertain the most serious apprehensions as to their fate.
We had one evening turned in, and, having closed the door of the hut, had lighted our lamp and composed ourselves to sleep, when Ewen roused me up.
“I heard a shout!” he exclaimed, “they must be coming.”
We slipped into our day clothing, and hurried out, carrying our rifles in our hands, for we never moved without them.
Again there was a shout: we replied to it with all our might. Some one was evidently approaching. More clearly to show our position, I fired off my rifle, and sent Croil in to light a small piece of drift-wood the only thing we possessed to serve as a torch. Again and again we shouted: at length we caught sight through the gloom of night of some dark spots moving over the snow.
“Hurrah!” cried Ewen, “there are our shipmates!” Soon after he had spoken I discovered three of the dogs dragging the sledge and two men following them. The one was Sandy, the other Hans the seaman.
Hurrying forward we led them up to the hut. Sandy could scarcely speak.
“We are well-nigh starved, and I thought we should never get back,” he said at length.
“Where are our shipmates? Why haven’t they come?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you all about it when we have had some food and rest. Can you give us something to eat?”
“Plenty,” I answered, leading him and Hans into the hut, while Ewen and Croil unharnessed the poor dogs, who looked well-nigh famished. Ewen gave them some bears’ flesh, and they devoured it with a greediness which showed that they had gone long without a meal.
We soon had some slices of meat frying on our stove and some snow melting. After the two weary travellers had eaten, and drank some hot coffee, Sandy gave us the alarming intelligence that he had been unable to reach the camp. On arriving at the edge of the land-ice, what was his dismay to discover a wide gap between it and the field in the midst of which our friends were encamped, and which was in motion drifting southward. Still, hoping that it might again come in contact with the land-ice, he determined to move in the same direction. He caught sight indeed of a flag and what he took to be a portion of the wreck, though at so great a distance that he did not suppose the sound of his rifle, which he fired off, would be heard. No object indeed would have been gained had it been so, as it would have been impossible for one party to communicate with the other. For two days he followed the floe, but the distance between it and the land-ice increased. At length the ice over which he was travelling became so rough that he could proceed no further; he lost sight of the floe and its living freight, and was reluctantly compelled to return for want of food. One of the dogs gave in and it was killed and eaten. The last morsels had been consumed the day before he and Hans reached the hut. Their joy at finding us still there may be imagined, for had we by any chance fallen in with natives and accompanied them to the south, they fully expected to perish.
As soon as the meal was over, the two weary travellers lay down to sleep. Croil imitated their example, while Ewen and I sat up by the light of the lamp, I mending clothes and my friend engaged in preparing a small tub for holding bear’s grease to serve us for fuel. Our conversation naturally took a melancholy turn. The thought that the floe on which were my brother and his companions might be dashed to pieces, and that they would perish miserably, was painful in the extreme. We thought more of them, indeed, than of ourselves, though our position was truly perilous. Our only shelter during the intense cold of an Arctic winter was an ice hut. Hitherto the bears we had shot had afforded us food and fuel; but they might take their departure, and we should then have no other food on which to depend, until the return of spring should enable us to kill walruses and seals. No ships, even in the summer, were likely to penetrate so far north, for few whalers had got so near the pole as theHardy Norsemanhad done, and destruction had overtaken her.
“Still I have heard that people have wintered in Nova Zembla and Spitzbergen, even with fewer means of supporting themselves than we possess,” observed Ewen. “We must not despair, Hugh, but trust in God; Sandy’s return to us is greatly to our advantage; for with his harpoon, when our powder is expended, he will be able to kill seals, and furnish us with food.”
“I am thinking of my brother Andrew, and the hopelessness of finding David,” I replied.
“But we do not know that he and the rest of the party are lost, and if your brother David is alive he may still make his escape wherever he may be.”
At last Ewen and I, having trimmed the lamp that it might keep alight, and maintain sufficient warmth in the hut, carefully closed the door and lay down to sleep.
There was no necessity for keeping a watch as was the case on the floe, nor had we the dread of an attack from hostile natives, for no human beings were likely to come near us. We should have been heartily ready to welcome any Esquimaux should they find us out.
I awoke at the usual hour, just before day-break, and getting up trimmed the lamp which had almost gone out, and set to work to prepare breakfast for my companions.
After a time I called up Ewen and Croil, but we allowed Sandy and Hans to sleep on, keeping the breakfast ready to give them the moment they should awake. It was noon before they opened their eyes, when having taken the food we offered them they fell asleep again. It was several days, indeed, before they got over the fatigue of their journey.
Sandy, when once himself again, was as anxious as any of us to make preparations for passing the winter. We talked of pushing southward to seek a more level region, but the lofty hills in the distance, without the appearance of any spot on which we could land, made us hesitate. As the days were now only of three hours’ duration, we feared that we should not have light for more than a very short journey, and it was impossible to endure the cold for any length of time after the sun had gone down. We had already a good supply of bear’s meat, but it was important to get more. Our store we had buried in a pit close to the hut, so that no roving bears could get at it. They are in no way particular, and would quite as readily feast on the flesh of their relatives as on any other meat. We had frequently seen their tracks made during the night close outside the hut, but they must have taken their departure, like spirits of another world, before dawn. They were not as hungry at this time of the year as they would be further on, when no seals were to be caught and the deer and other animals had migrated southward. At length the sun sank beneath the horizon, not again to rise until the end of a long winter’s night. The cold too had become so intense that we could only keep ourselves warm in the hut with the door closed and the lamp alight, but then it was almost too hot. We had, therefore, to make a window through which we could admit fresh air, without the necessity of opening the door; but when there was any wind we were obliged to fill up the aperture with snow, for the smallest orifice admitted a draught of air which pierced the hand like a needle when held up to it. The poor dogs had to be taken inside, for though we had built kennels for them close to the hut, there was a great risk of their being carried off by bears while we were asleep. Those “monarchs of the realms of ice,” as they are poetically called, had scented us out, and scarcely an hour passed but one made his appearance. Sometimes they got off, though we killed no inconsiderable number, thus adding to our stock of food, while their skins enabled us to make our beds as warm as we could desire. At length, however, they became more daring and troublesome, so that none of us could go out of the hut alone lest we should be carried off.
We had expended by this time so much of our powder that we had resolved to use no more of it until the return of spring, when we should require it on our journey southward.
How the winter went by I can scarcely describe. We had no books, but were never idle, being always employed in manufacturing articles with our knives, either from bones or pieces of drift-wood, or making shoes and clothing from the bears’ skins.
We were thus employed, having opened the window to admit some fresh air, and a few rays of the returning light of day, when, looking up, what should I see but the snout of a bear poked through the aperture, evidently enjoying the odours arising from some steaks frying on our stone.
Not at all disconcerted by the shouts we raised, for the sake of getting the savoury morsels, he began scraping away at the snow walls, in which, with his powerful claws, he could speedily have made an alarming breach.
Sandy, jumping up with his harpoon, which he had been polishing, in his hand, darted it with all his might at the bear. Fortunately his weapon did not stick in the animal’s throat, or he might, I confidently believe, have pulled down the whole structure in his struggles.
Uttering a roar of pain, the bear started back. His roar was repeated by several other bears outside, who must have joined it from sympathy, echoed by the dogs from the inside, who jumped about eager to attack their foes.
Ewen was about to open the door, when Sandy stopped him.
“Let us see how many of these gentlemen there are outside, for I’ve a notion there are more than we should wish to tackle,” he observed.
He and I looked out of the window, when we saw no less than three huge bears close to the hut, while the fellow we had wounded and several others were visible further off, watching the proceedings of their friends, whose evident intention it was to break in if they could, to eat the savoury steaks we were cooking, and us into the bargain. Notwithstanding our intention of not using our fire-arms, we must either kill the baars if we could not drive them off, or run the risk of being torn to pieces by them.
As they seemed resolved to pull our hut down for the sake of getting at us, we loaded our fire-arms and prepared for the defence of our fortress. Sandy desired me to take my post at the window, and to shoot down as many as I could, while he with the rest of the party opened the door and sallied out to attack the invaders. I advised him, however, to wait and see the result of my shots, unless the bears should actually begin to tear down the walls. Taking aim at the nearest, I fired. The thick smoke prevented me for some seconds from seeing the effect of my shot. Great was my satisfaction when I perceived the bear struggling on his back in the snow.
Ewen then handed me up his rifle, and while he reloaded mine, I took aim at the next bear, which I knocked over in the same fashion as I had the first; but strange to say, their companions, instead of being frightened and running away, came growling up as if resolved to revenge their deaths.
On seeing this, Sandy, who was looking over my shoulder, calling the rest of the party, opened the door, and fired a volley, all hands shouting at the same time at the top of their voices.
One of the bears fell; the rest, terrified and pursued by the dogs, who bolted out, took to flight. We called off our canine attendants, who were, however, very unwilling to return, coming slowly back, and every now and then facing round and barking furiously at the retreating bears.
Four of the animals had been killed, and we had made, as Sandy observed, “a good morning’s work.” It took us some time to cut them up and stow the flesh away in our pit, while the preparation of the skins gave us abundant occupation, though not a pleasant one in the confined hut.
Day after day went by; the sun remained longer and longer above the horizon; while the warmth sensibly increased, when there happened to be no wind, although the air was still cold enough to make our thick clothing indispensable.
We now began to make preparations for our journey southward, which must be performed before the land-ice should begin to break up.
I suggested that some of the party should first make a trip with part of our provisions, sufficient for three or four days, to the south, and there form a depot, so that we might not run the risk of starving should we fail to kill any animals, and this was agreed to.
Sandy and I drew lots which of us should go, and which remain at the hut.
The lot fell on him to go, and he chose Hans and Croil to accompany him. I confess that I would far rather have gone, but having agreed to the proposal, I felt bound to yield to his wishes.
The party set off the next morning with the tent, and as much bear’s meat as they chose to carry, and a portion of the remainder of our other stores. Ewen and I saw them off, not without some forebodings of evil, and then returned to our hut to employ ourselves as usual.
We never allowed the time to hang heavily on our hands, though we would have given a great deal for a book of any description, especially for a Bible, for that could have been read over and over again with advantage, whereas any other book would have been quickly got through. We calculated that Sandy would be absent a week or ten days at the utmost. The ten days had elapsed, and Sandy had not appeared; a fearful snow-storm, with a violent wind, had, however, come on, and confined us to the hut, and we concluded that he and his companions had pitched their tent, and had halted until it should be over, and that we might thus expect to see them at any hour.
Still days went by after this, and they did not come.
“Can they have deserted us?” asked Ewen.
“I am sure that they have not willingly done so,” I replied. “Some serious accident I fear may have happened to prevent them from returning.”
Our position had now become critical in the extreme. In a short time the ice might leave the shore, and our escape from the bay would be impossible.
We resolved at once to set out. Should the party be returning, we might perhaps meet them. If not, we must push on as long as our strength lasted. Having accordingly packed up our meat, our lamp, our stock of oil, and our ammunition, we set out.
We might find shelter in some cavern in the cliffs, or if not we could build a snow-hut of sufficient size to contain us. We might even venture to sleep out on calm nights, covered up in our blankets.
Before quitting the spot we closed the door of our hut, to prevent the ingress of bears, for we might possibly have to return to it, though as the warmth of the sun increased it would melt away.
We trudged on manfully, both feeling in better spirits than we had done for some days. On our right rose lofty cliffs, and occasionally vast masses of ice formed into glaciers a mile or more in extent, while on the left stretched out a vast field of ice, out of which rose numerous bergs of fantastic shapes, but no open water could we discover.
For the first day we got on very well. As the light decreased we built a snow-hut in which we could comfortably rest, with an entrance so small that no bear could have suddenly pounced upon us, while we kept our rifles ready to shoot the intruder should one appear. Next night we did the same, though we felt very tired when the work was over, and but little inclined to start the next morning at sunrise. We had, indeed, miscalculated our strength. It seemed easy enough to walk straight ahead over the ice for several hours a day; but we found that, though the ice was sometimes smooth, we had frequently to clamber over hummocks, so that our progress was slower than we had expected. At last Ewen declared that, unless we could take a whole day’s rest, he could go no farther.
My fear was lest, while we were inside our hut, Sandy and his companions might pass us. I agreed to take a short journey only, and offered to watch while Ewen slept. This he did not like to let me do, but I over persuaded him, and, while he turned in, I walked about the outside of the hut, sometimes climbing to the top of a hummock near at hand in the hopes of seeing our friends. The day closed in, however, without a single object appearing, and the next morning, Ewen saying that he felt stronger after his rest, we continued our journey.
We had been travelling for a couple of hours or more, when we reached a point beyond which a deep bay appeared. Should we go round it, or cross from one side to the other? As far as we could discern, there was nothing to tempt us to go out of our course. The cliffs were more precipitous and lofty than those we had hitherto seen, with intervals of vast glaciers of equal height.
We had hitherto had the cliffs to guide us, but now should the snow fall, or the weather become thick, we should not be able to distinguish them. Clear weather was, therefore, of the utmost importance, so, praying that it might continue, we pushed forward.
Though we travelled all day, with but a few minutes’ rest to take our food, the opposite side of the bay appeared no nearer than at first. Darkness came on, and not the faintest outline of the cliffs could we discover. It seemed to us, as we crept into our hut, that we were in the midst of the frozen sea. Fatigue happily brought us sound sleep. When we got up in the morning, what was our dismay to find that a violent storm was blowing, and that the snow was falling so thickly that we had great difficulty in forcing our way out of the hut. In a short time we should have been enclosed in what might have proved our tomb. To travel was next to impossible; although on starting we knew the direction to take, we were aware that we might very soon go wrong should the wind change. We therefore remained in our hut, occasionally digging away the snow to keep the passage clear.
At last the snow ceased, and as we could make out the faint outlines of the cliffs to the southward, we at once, shouldering our packs, pushed forward. It seemed, however, that we had made no progress when again we had to halt and build a hut.
The three next days were but a repetition of those I have described; but now our provisions had greatly decreased, as had our strength. The cliffs on the other side of the bay had not been reached, and when we got there, what were we likely to find? We had to confess to each other that we should not have strength to go much farther. Still, we resolved to struggle on as long as life remained. The snow had again begun to fall, but not with sufficient thickness to compel us to stop. At last Ewen suddenly declared that not another step could he stir. I offered to take his rifle and his pack, but, when I made the attempt to carry them, I found that I was unable to bear an additional load to my own.
Poor Ewen sank down. “Go on,” he said; “you may reach human beings, but I fear that you will not.” I could not bear the thought of leaving my friend. Even should I reach the shore and find a settlement, he would be dead before I could return. I proposed again encamping, but he had not strength even to assist in building a hut.
While I was endeavouring to encourage him, I fancied that I saw in the distance to the westward some objects moving over the ice. They might be bears—reindeers would scarcely have left the land. I looked more attentively. While I was gazing, the snow almost ceased falling.
“Look, Ewen, look!” I shouted, “those are men and sledges. They must be Sandy’s party, but they are too far off to see us. They are coming nearer, however. Rouse up, old fellow; let us try to meet them.”
Ewen’s strength seemed suddenly to return. We hurried forward, but we both feared that they might pass by without discovering us. As we got nearer to them we shouted, but our voices were hollow and low, and too probably would not be heard.
“I’ll fire my rifle!” I exclaimed. “I wonder that I did not think of doing so at first.”
The report had the desired effect. As we watched the strangers, to our joy we saw that they were directing their course towards us. In a short time we were among a party of Esquimaux, who seemed very much surprised at seeing us, though what they said we could not make out.
From the direction they had been travelling, we concluded that they were bound to some place on the north side of the bay for the purpose of spending the summer there. We tried to make them understand that if they would turn back and carry us to some place where we should find Europeans, we would give them our rifles, and anything else in our power. After holding a consultation, during which they looked frequently at the sky, they agreed to my proposal. Two of the party, unloading one of the smaller sledges, made signs that Ewen should get upon it. They then packed some provisions they had brought, together with some of our loads and rifles, and signified that they were ready to set off.
Having rubbed noses with their friends, who continued their route to the northward, we started in the opposite direction.