Chapter 11

1By the Act of Parliament (58 Geo. III. cap. xx.) passed in 1818, a reward of £1000 was assigned to any one who should cross the latitude of 83° N. But in 1828 this Act for the encouragement of Polar discovery was repealed by 9 Geo. IV. cap. lxvi.

1By the Act of Parliament (58 Geo. III. cap. xx.) passed in 1818, a reward of £1000 was assigned to any one who should cross the latitude of 83° N. But in 1828 this Act for the encouragement of Polar discovery was repealed by 9 Geo. IV. cap. lxvi.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE MOST NORTHERN POINT EVER REACHED BY MAN.

“And here on snows, where never human footOf common mortal trod, we nightly treadAnd leave no traces, o’er the savage sea,The glassy ocean of the mountain ice;We skim its rugged breakers, which put onThe aspect of a tumbling tempest’s foamFrozen in a moment.”Byron.

“And here on snows, where never human foot

Of common mortal trod, we nightly tread

And leave no traces, o’er the savage sea,

The glassy ocean of the mountain ice;

We skim its rugged breakers, which put on

The aspect of a tumbling tempest’s foam

Frozen in a moment.”

Byron.

May1st.—A fine sunny morning ushered in the month of May, all the more appreciated in consequence of the enforced idleness of the preceding day. The bright sun had a wonderful effect upon us all. It seemed to cheer and invigorate our spirits, whilst it stimulated us to renewed exertions in our endeavours to reach as high a northern latitude as possible. Our invalids, however, were very faint and weak. They exhibited no favourable symptoms of improvement, and were a great clog and drawback to our progress. With our diminished crews we found it hard work to drag the sledges over the rough hummocky road, and through the deep soft snow-drifts that were constantly met. Road-making became a necessary part of the daily routine. Floes of any extent were rarely seen, and we had to thread ourway through a perfect labyrinth of piled-up masses of ice, with little or no prospect of its improving. It was a dreary and wild-looking scene: no living thing in sight but our own little party, no colour or object to relieve the eye; nothing but a chaotic and illimitable sea of ice. Sometimes a fog was observed gradually rolling itself towards us, like a large mantle, until we were completely enveloped in its dense folds; when, continuing its onward course, it would roll as rapidly away, leaving a bright luminous band stretching across the horizon in the direction whence it had come.

May 2nd.—Although we had been told that there was not the slightest chance of our being attacked with scurvy, still, from the utter prostration of our invalids, combined with other symptoms, we were almost inclined to believe that we were really afflicted with this dire and wasting disease. It was a terrible idea that forced itself upon us, and one that we were loath to indulge in; but we feared that the symptoms pointed unmistakeably to the fact that this fearful disease, so dreaded by the mariners of old, was gradually but surely laying its hand upon us, completely prostrating those it attacked and rendering them helpless from pain and exhaustion. Parr and myself spoke of it only when we were by ourselves, as we considered it of the utmost importance that the men should remain in ignorance as long as possible, and not even suspect the nature of the disease which had crippled so many of their number. Swollen joints and discolouration of the skin, attended with faintness and great weakness, were the principal symptoms. Great as were the natural difficulties which surrounded us, still, should our surmise becorrect, we could not but regard this as the most formidable of all obstacles to our advance that could possibly be imagined. Our only hope was that the five men now afflicted might, through their habits or disposition, have been more prone to the attacks of this insidious disease, than the remainder of our party, who, we hoped, might escape scathless. We camped this evening amidst a pile of hummocks, after one of the hardest day’s work we have yet performed. So rough was the road and so deep was the snow that the sledges could only be advanced by “standing pulls.” This was disheartening, for we had all been cherishing the hope that as we advanced northwards we should find larger and more level floes and less snow; the reverse, however, was the case. Several times did one or other of us disappear through deep rents in the floe, but we always succeeded in scrambling up again unhurt.

May 3rd.—A dull, dark, foggy day rendered it extremely difficult to select our road, and we were occasionally compelled to unload the sledges before they could be dragged through the deep soft snow-drifts which were continually met across our route, making the work all the more hard and distressing. The fog persistently hung over us all day; but was not sufficiently dense to retard our progress altogether, though it materially increased our labours and augmented our difficulties.

May 4th.—Everything appeared to combine against us: weather, snow ice, and sickness! In spite of these evils our tents were struck and a start made; but after advancing for half a mile, which took us exactly three and a half hours to accomplish, we arrived at such a confused heap of hummocks that,with the dense fog prevailing and the falling snow, it was impossible to make any headway. To persevere would have been imprudent. The tents were accordingly pitched, and we consoled ourselves by saying that the rest would be productive of much good to our sick companions, for even those that had to be carried on the sledges could get no rest whilst being dragged and jolted and sometimes capsized over the roughest road imaginable. After lunch, the weather clearing a little, we employed ourselves in cutting a road through an amorphous conglomeration of ice for quite three-quarters of a mile. The pack over which we were travelling appeared to consist of numerous small floes, the largest being barely one hundred yards across at its widest diameter, but the majority much smaller, and each of these floes was surrounded by a mass of hummocks piled up and lying one on top of the other to the height of twenty and thirty feet: the belts of hummocks being from thirty to forty yards in breadth.

Observing one large hummock to be very much discoloured, we found, on approach, that this discolouration was caused by the adhesion of mud or clay, a line of which extended for some distance along the edge of the floe, and gave one the idea that it had rubbed against, or in some manner had come into contact with, the shore. Mud it undoubtedly was, and we bottled a quantity of it for the purpose of subjecting it to microscopic investigation when we should return on board. This was conclusive evidence that a periodical, if not an annual, disruption of the pack occurs, and that these floes, although now at such a distance from the land, had at some time or another been in very closeproximity. Moreover, this must have occurred at a recent date, otherwise the summer thaws and the autumn snow would have obliterated all such traces as those we had discovered.

May 5th.—The weather was still as thick as pea-soup! However, we were able to avail ourselves of the road that we had constructed yesterday, and moved our camp so far. To do this, although the road was fairly good and the distance only three-quarters of a mile, the time occupied was four and a half hours! The scene that surrounded our encampment was a dreary one indeed—a desolate, cold, and inhospitable scene: everything of the same uniform colour; no object to relieve the eye; no signs of life; nothing to break the stillness and solitude of this waste of snow and ice. Surely Shelley must have contemplated such a scene when he wrote the following lines:

“Those wastes of frozen billows that were hurledBy everlasting snow-storms round the Poles,Where matters dared not vegetate nor live,But ceaseless frost round the vast solitudeBound the broad zone of stillness.”

“Those wastes of frozen billows that were hurled

By everlasting snow-storms round the Poles,

Where matters dared not vegetate nor live,

But ceaseless frost round the vast solitude

Bound the broad zone of stillness.”

It was a relief, indeed, to turn from such a scene, and rest the eye upon our little encampment, while listening to the cheerful voices of our men, as, oblivious to hardship and suffering, they sat “yarning,” in their tents, and relating to each other their adventures in other parts of the globe. To our great satisfaction and comfort the temperature was at, or about, zero all day, and for the first time, since leaving the ship, we were able to eat our bacon without in the first place thawing it in our tea!

May 6th.—A fine, bright day; but the rest of yesterday had produced no beneficial results. Our invalids were gradually getting worse; even those who were apparently in good health complained of aching limbs, and exhibited some of the first symptoms of those who were already ailing. Four of the men had also been suffering for the last few days from snow blindness, though not in a severe form. A suger of lead lotion afforded them great relief, and acted as a cure. We had been so far extremely fortunate in our comparative exemption from this painful and irritating affliction. We must attribute our immunity from it to the constant use of our snow-goggles, which were never taken off until the time of “bagging!”

In getting under weigh in the morning, and also when we are encamping, the sick men cause us no little delay; for they are perfectly helpless, and require assistance in every little detail connected with their dressing and undressing, being totally incapacitated from doing anything themselves.

The travelling was very heavy. We appeared to have arrived at a perfect barrier of hummocks, with portions of large floes intermixed, all broken and squeezed up together and covered with deep snow. As far as reaching a high latitude was concerned, we might as well have turned back at once, for our advance must needs be slow; but it was not impossible that this sea of hummocks, with which we were contending, might be the limit of our rough road, and that if we could succeed in struggling through them for a few miles, we might emerge upon large and level floes on which we should be able to travel with greater ease and celerity. Possibly therugged nature of the ice might be due to the junction of two tides, which, from the commotion produced, would create the obstacles that were impeding our progress. After halting for the night, a party of men were employed road-making whilst the tents were being pitched and supper preparing. All were very glad to get into their bags and rest after the fatigues of the day. A slight air from the S.E. sent the temperature down rapidly to 11° below zero. The minus quantities still prevailed.

May 7th.—We started this morning carrying three of our invalids; but before we had gone many yards it became painfully evident that the two others were quite unable to walk, although the gallant fellows struggled along manfully.

Our only resource was to advance the sledges and then return with them empty to bring on the other disabled sufferers. We had now a third of our little bandhors de combat, our strength was diminishing daily, and our weights on the sledges in consequence were increasing. The travelling appeared to be getting, if possible, worse; the hummocks were higher and the snow-drifts deeper. One of the former, on being measured by means of a lead line, was found to be, from the top of the floe to its summit, forty-three feet three inches.

We halted earlier than usual, and, having constructed a pedestal for the magnetic instrument out of solid snow, obtained a series of observations for the inclination of the needle and for the total magnetic force.

May 8th.—We at length forced ourselves to believe that the disease from which our men were suffering was really scurvy. We issued to those whowere afflicted daily allowances of lime-juice from the small stock that we brought away with us.

But it was with the utmost difficulty that a small allowance for each could be thawed. The lime-juice was in two bottles. On putting one near the cooking apparatus to thaw, the bottle cracked and fell to pieces. At last I adopted the plan of placing the other bottle between my legs when in the sleeping-bag, and, after a long time, I succeeded in thawing a small quantity. But it is now known that this was of no use; for the state of the lime-juice used by Dr. Coppinger at Polaris Bay showed that the whole volume must be thawed and remixed before it can be used with any advantage. This can only be done in the warmer weather of June or July.

The loss of appetite, depression of spirits, with other symptoms were, we thought, decidedly scorbutic, and we feared, without fresh meat and vegetables, that there was little chance of seeing the sick men on the drag-ropes again during the journey. Being a fine, bright day, the invalids were made to come out and bask in the sun, whilst the rest of the party, with pickaxes and shovels, were engaged in cutting a road through the hummocks. A double series of magnetic observations were obtained, together with sights for latitude, longitude, and variation of the compass. The hummocks amongst which our tents were pitched were of various heights and bulk, from small fragments of ice to huge piles over forty feet high. Some of them consisted of a number of small hummocks squeezed up into one large mass, whilst others were apparently the regular floe-bergs, and, although perhaps of greater bulk, were not quite so high.

Between these hummocks, and consequently along the only road where we could drag our sledges, the snow had accumulated in drifts to a great depth, and this, formed into ridges by the wind, rendered the travelling all the more difficult. Occasionally the tops of these ridges were frozen hard, and it was of no uncommon occurrence to step from deep snow, through which we were floundering up to our waists, on to a hard, frozen piece, orvice versâ.

Sometimes these ridges were only partially frozen, or covered with a slight crust, just hard enoughnotto bear our weights, and this made it exceedingly disagreeable and laborious to travel over.

May 9th.—Another beautifully warm day, with the temperature only a degree or two below zero! It was impossible to remain idle on such a day, so we resolved to push on.

Lightening two of the sledges of about half their loads, two of the sick men were placed on them, and these were dragged to the limit of the road made yesterday. Here the tent was pitched, the two invalids placed inside, the sledge unpacked and dragged back. In this manner we succeeded in advancing during the day a distance of about three-quarters of a mile; but so tortuous was our road, and so often had it to be traversed, that to accomplish this short distance we had to walk about seven miles, and this through very deep snow. Rawlings, Simpson, and Ferbrache were complaining of aching limbs, and their legs exhibited slight discolouration.

May 10th.—We advanced the sledges in the same manner as yesterday, accomplishing about the same distance; but so distressing was it to see the exertionsof the men in their endeavours to perform a good day’s work, and so painful was it to witness the sufferings of the sick, that I very reluctantly came to the conclusion that our camp this evening must be our most northern one. With five of my little force disabled, and as many more showing decided scorbutic symptoms, it would have been imprudent to persevere farther, however much inclination might prompt such a proceeding. Besides, our provisions must be taken into consideration, and we had only thirty days left to take us back a distance that occupied us forty days to advance, so that our turning back became an imperative necessity. We might, I think, console ourselves with the knowledge that the motto engraved on my flagstaff, and which had been presented to me by my friend and former Captain, now Commodore A. H. Hoskins, had been fully carried out. It was happily chosen, and although the lines are expressed in the first personal pronoun they had reference to the whole party:

“I dare do all that may become a man:Who dares do more is none.”

“I dare do all that may become a man:

Who dares do more is none.”

We felt that the absence of any greater success could not be attributed either to a lack of energy or of perseverence. It was, however, a bitter ending to all our aspirations, for which even the knowledge of being homeward bound failed to compensate. In justice to my brave companions I must say that no men could have done more under the same circumstances.

May 11th.—Having arrived at the determination of dragging the sledges no farther in a northerly direction, I deemed it desirable to try what good two days’ perfect rest would do for our invalids; and, asthere were many useful observations to be taken in this high latitude, I determined to devote the two following days to obtaining them. As soon as breakfast was discussed, a snow pedestal was erected for the instrument for determining the magnetic force and inclination of the needle, a double series of observations being obtained. Sights were taken in order to fix our position both by latitude and longitude, and also for the variation of the compass.1

Some of the men were employed in cutting a hole through young ice that existed between the hummocks in order that we might obtain deep sea temperatures with a Casella’s thermometer, which we had brought with us for the purpose.

In three hours this work was accomplished, the ice being only sixty-four inches in thickness. On attempting to get soundings, to our great surprise we succeeded in finding bottom in seventy-one fathoms (four hundred and twenty-six feet).

At this depth we managed to obtain, by various contrivances that were lowered down, a specimen of the bottom, which was carefully bottled, in order to be carried to the ship, there to undergo microscopic examination.

Wishing to possess any specimens of animal life that might exist in this high latitude, a bread bag, filled with the scrapings of our pannikins and a little pemmican, was lowered to the bottom, and, having been kept there some hours, was hauled up, and to our great joy found to be almost alive with numeroussmall crustaceans2and foraminifera; specimens of which were, of course, collected and preserved, being the most northern animal life yet discovered. With our thermometer a series of temperatures was taken at every ten fathoms, whilst the specific gravity of the surface water was also obtained.

Tidal action was apparent; but, with the means at our disposal, we were unable to observe the rise and fall of the tide, or to make any accurate measurement regarding it. Altogether the day was not unprofitably spent.

May 12th.—This 12th of May must always be regarded as an eventful day in the lives of our little party, for it was that on which we had the honour, and no small gratification, of planting the Union Jack on the most northern limit of the globe ever attained by civilized man, or, in fact, so far as our knowledge goes, by mortal man! In order to insure being within four hundred miles of the North Pole, we started immediately after breakfast to the northward, carrying with us the sextant, artificial horizon, and all our colours and banners. We were a party of ten,3two men being left behind to attend to the wants of the five who were sick, and who were left comfortably settled inside the tents.

The walking was undoubtedly severe, at one moment struggling through deep snow-drifts, in which we floundered up to our waists, and at another tumbling about amongst the hummocks.

Some idea may be formed of the difficulties of the road, when, after more than two hours’ hard walking, with little or nothing to carry, we had barely accomplished one mile!

Shortly before noon a halt was called, the artificial horizon set up, and the flags and sledge standards displayed. Fortunately the sun was favourable to us, and we were able to obtain a good altitude as it passed the meridian, although almost immediately afterwards dark clouds rolled up, snow began to fall, and the sun was lost in obscurity.

We found the latitude to be 83° 20′ 26″ N., or three hundred and ninety-nine miles and a half from the North Pole. The announcement of our position was received with three cheers, with one more for Captain Nares; then all sang the “Union Jack of Old England,” our “Grand Palæocrystic Sledging Chorus,” winding up, like loyal subjects, with “God save the Queen.”

No words of mine could describe the scene that surrounded us better than those of Coleridge in his “Ancient Mariner”:

“The ice was here, the ice was there,The ice was all around.”

“The ice was here, the ice was there,

The ice was all around.”

For nought else but snow and ice could be seen in any direction.

In spite, however, of these dreary surroundings, suggesting everything that was desolate and miserable, mirth, happiness, and joy seemed to reign paramountamongst our little party. Perhaps there was something in the idea of having been farther north than any other man had hitherto penetrated, that promoted such feelings! Whatever produced them, they were shared in by all. Even the sick, on our return to camp, prostrate and suffering as they were, participated in the general hilarity and rejoicing. They knew their toilsome journey had terminated, and that each day would bring them nearer to their ship and to those supplies that were necessary to save their lives.

On returning to the tents, a magnum of whiskey, kindly sent by the “Dean of Dundee,” for the express purpose of being drunk at our highest northern position, was broached, and for supper we had divided amongst the two sledge crews a hare that had been shot by Dr. Moss on the third day after leaving the ship. Could men in our position want more? Never were the bones of a hare picked so clean! No dog would have benefited much from the scraps remaining from our repast!

Absent friends were duly toasted, and the evening was brought to a close with songs, in which even the invalids joined. All appeared happy, cheerful, and contented.

1The original from which the annexed illustration is a copy, was painted by Admiral R. B. Beechey, and exhibited in the Royal Academy in 1877. It is now in the possession of Mr. Clements Markham.2Anonyx nugax, a fine adult male example, and several smaller ones. The length of the largest specimen is 1½ inch. This species is one of the commonest and most abundantly distributed of the northernAmphipoda. It was discovered by Captain Phipps in 1773, and is found along the shores of Arctic America, in the White Sea, on the coasts of Greenland, Iceland, Spitzbergen, Norway, and in the Sea of Okhotsk.3The names of these men are—Commander A. H. Markham, Lieutenant A. A. C. Parr, Thos. Rawlings, Ed. Lawrence, John Radmore, Thos. Jolliffe, Daniel Harley, Wm. Ferbrache, Wm. Maskell, and John Pearson.

1The original from which the annexed illustration is a copy, was painted by Admiral R. B. Beechey, and exhibited in the Royal Academy in 1877. It is now in the possession of Mr. Clements Markham.

2Anonyx nugax, a fine adult male example, and several smaller ones. The length of the largest specimen is 1½ inch. This species is one of the commonest and most abundantly distributed of the northernAmphipoda. It was discovered by Captain Phipps in 1773, and is found along the shores of Arctic America, in the White Sea, on the coasts of Greenland, Iceland, Spitzbergen, Norway, and in the Sea of Okhotsk.

3The names of these men are—Commander A. H. Markham, Lieutenant A. A. C. Parr, Thos. Rawlings, Ed. Lawrence, John Radmore, Thos. Jolliffe, Daniel Harley, Wm. Ferbrache, Wm. Maskell, and John Pearson.

CHAPTER XXIV.

RETURN OF THE NORTHERN DIVISION.

“Is not short payne well borne, that brings long ease,And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet grace?Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please.”Faërie Queene.

“Is not short payne well borne, that brings long ease,

And layes the soule to sleepe in quiet grace?

Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas,

Ease after warre, death after life, does greatly please.”

Faërie Queene.

Atthree o’clock on the afternoon of the 13th of May the homeward march was commenced, our main object, of course, being to get back to the ship as speedily as possible.

Before starting, a couple of records, inclosed in two tin cases, were deposited on the floe. One was placed as near the centre of the floe as possible, the other was secured on the top of a hummock.

On the records was stated the latitude and longitude of the position, together with a few words regarding the condition of the party. If these are ever picked up it will be very interesting and important, as throwing light on the drift or tide in these high latitudes.

It is unnecessary to describe the incidents that occurred on each successive day during the return journey. Day by day did our strength diminish. Gradually, but surely, the men, one after the other,began to feel the cruel grasp of the disease, as they struggled manfully on, dragging their poor, helpless companions, in spite of racking pains and aching limbs. Although themselves attacked by the dreadful malady, the men who were still able to work suppressed their own sufferings in their endeavours to ameliorate those of their more helpless and ailing comrades. Unmindful of their own miserable plight, they devoted themselves to the tender and soothing functions of nurses with a thoughtful and careful tenderness that would have done credit even to those of the weaker sex.

Often had the same road to be traversed, as the sledges were advanced one at a time, and most fortunate was it that we were able to adhere to the road constructed during our outward journey. To do so, however, during the thick weather which constantly prevailed, was a task of great difficulty and very trying to the eyes; but we knew that if by ill-luck we should wander away and lose it, our chances of ever seeing the ship again would be poor indeed! The hours selected for travelling were between 6P.M.and 6A.M.By choosing this part of the day, or rather night, for working, we kept the sun as much as possible at our backs, and slept during the warmth of the day. Towards the end of May, although the temperature of the outside air was below the freezing point, the sun was so powerful that it would raise the temperature inside our tent, whilst we were sleeping, to as much as 70° or 80°, which would be quite unbearable! Frost-bites had become a thing of the past, and were no longer dreaded. The temperature did not rise above the freezing point until the month of June.

Snow fell heavily during the greater part of the return journey, and fogs were very prevalent. Gales of wind had to be endured, for to halt was out of the question—rest there was none—onward was the order of the day.

As the disease gradually assumed the mastery over the party, so did the appetites decrease, and in a very alarming manner, until it was with the greatest difficulty that anybody could be induced to eat at all. Instead of each man disposing of one pound of pemmican a day, the same quantity sufficed for the entire party in one tent; and even this, occasionally, was not consumed. Nor was the subject of eating and drinking so often discussed. During the outward journey, beefsteaks and onions, mutton chops and new potatoes, and Bass’s beer formed the chief topics of conversation. On the return journey they were scarcely alluded to. Hunger was never felt; but we were all assailed by an intolerable thirst, which could only be appeased at meal times, or after the temperature was sufficiently high to admit of quenching our thirst by putting icicles into our mouths.

Aching bones and sleepless nights were the chief causes of our sufferings.

With all these hardships it was a great comfort to be able to put on dry foot gear. If it was fine when we encamped, our blanket wrappers and hose were spread out on the tent in the sun, so that when we got up they were not only dry, butnot frozen, and were, therefore, limp and supple!

On the 17th of May we again, strange to say, crossed the track of a hare, being at the time about twenty-five miles from the nearest land. Like the track before seen, the footsteps were close together,indicating that the poor little creature was in a very exhausted state. Although the traces were very indistinct, they appeared to be going in a northerly direction.

Though our travelling was slow, we could see a perceptible decrease in the distance between ourselves and the land, whenever the weather was fine enough for us to observe it. “Old Joe,” as the men irreverently termed Cape Joseph Henry, loomed nearer and darker, and we all regarded it with anxious, longing eyes.

On the 18th of May the first icicles were observed hanging from the edges of a few hummocks—a sure sign of the returning power of the sun.

Ominous symptoms of a disruption of the pack were seen on the same day, and again on the following one. A crack in some ice had opened considerably since we last passed over it, whilst small hummocks had been formed by the pressure of two floes, one against the other. These little indications made matters assume a still more serious aspect. They may have been due to tidal action, but they were undoubtedly warnings to get off the pack as speedily as possible.

On the 20th the snow crystals that fell actually melted on coming into contact with our clothes or any dark substance. These crystals were all of a beautiful stellar shape. A hummock passed, although composed, apparently, of one piece of ice, was of two different colours, a deep blue and a pale yellow. Portions of each were broken off for the purpose of testing their respective specific gravities, and also to carry back to the ship for analysis. In all probability the discolouration was caused by the presence ofdiatomaceæ. The hummocks, at about this date, began to assume a different appearance, the mild weather depriving them of their snowy covering, and causing them to lose much of their former resemblance to gigantic wedding cakes!

The men began to have an inkling of the nature of the disease from which they were suffering, although we studiously avoided all mention of it. It went with them by the name of the “Joseph Henry mange!” Their spirits were wonderful, and they joked each other as they hobbled along. Their lameness they called the “Marco Polo limp,” and declared on their return to England they would introduce it as the fashionable gait!

Nothing appeared to subdue their courage or their zeal. Orders were always executed with the utmost willingness and good humour, and with as much alacrity as they were capable of evincing.

The men having heard that tea-leaves had been recommended as a goodvegetable, the contents of the tea-kettle, after lunch and supper, were carefully collected, and devoured with avidity; but there is little faith, I fear, to be placed in their efficacy for warding off or subduing our terrible complaint.

Instead of our sledge loads appearing to diminish in weight as the provisions were consumed, they seemed to drag heavier, and we were at a loss whether to attribute this to the depth and softness of the snow over which we travelled, or to the increasing weakness of our party! It was hard work, and as much as we could do to make any progress at all. The men experienced great difficulty in moving their legs, the slightest exertion caused intense pain, and it was a piteous sight to witnessthem struggling bravely on, without uttering a murmur or complaint. They all knew that their only hope of safety was to get back to the ship as speedily as possible.

The 24th of May being the Queen’s birthday, all the flags and banners were displayed during the short time we halted for lunch, and her Majesty’s health was drunk by her most northern and not least loyal subjects. On that day, amongst the entire party, we could only muster four and a half good and sound pairs of legs! Still even those with “game legs” stuck to the drag-ropes nobly, and if they were unable to render much assistance, still the drag-ropes acted as a support, and therefore enabled them to keep up.

On the 25th the eighty-third parallel of latitude was recrossed.

The comparatively high temperature caused the snow over which we journeyed to assume a “sludgy” consistency, which clung tenaciously to our legs and to the sledge runners, rendering the work of dragging and walking all the more laborious.

On the 27th the condition of the party was so critical that it became only too painfully evident that, to insure their reaching the land alive, the sledges must be considerably lightened in order to admit of a more rapid advance. The state of the party was on that day as follows: five men were in a very precarious condition, utterly unable to move, and consequently had to be carried on the sledges; five others nearly as bad, but who nobly persisted in hobbling after the sledges, which they could just manage to accomplish, for, as the sledges had to be advanced one by one, it gave them plenty of timeto perform the distance; whilst three others exhibited all the premonitory scorbutic symptoms. Thus only the two officers and two men1could be considered as effective! This was, it must be acknowledged, a very deplorable state of affairs.

I therefore decided to abandon the remaining boat, which would materially lessen the load to be dragged. This decision was only arrived at after long and anxious consideration. I had to decide which was the lesser of two evils.

For I well knew that should a disruption of the pack occur, and we had already observed ominous signs of such an event, without a boat the party would indeed be placed in a hopeless position; but again I knew that in retaining the boat, the weights to be dragged by our weakened crew would be so excessive as to preclude the possibility of reaching the shore before all the provisions would be expended, and starvation would be the result. Again it was of the utmost importance that haste should be made in order to reach the ship, and place the sick under proper medical treatment. The disease was extending so rapidly as to produce a marked change for the worse every day. The boat, therefore, and all superfluous weights were abandoned, and the march was again wearily resumed.

Many a silent prayer was offered up to God to protect and watch over us, for we felt, indeed, that we were in dire distress, and that without His aid and assistance we must perish; and we prayed for strength to enable us to drag our poor helpless andsuffering companions to a place of safety. A record was left in the deserted boat, containing a brief account of our state and condition, with the latitude and longitude where it was abandoned.

On the following day great excitement was caused by the appearance of a snow bunting, which was seen fluttering about amongst the hummocks, uttering its sweet and pleasant chirp, which to us was the most pleasing music we had heard for many a long day. No wonder the sudden appearance amongst us of this little warbler was so interesting, for it was the first bird we had seen for nine long months. Even the invalids, as they lay on the sledges, requested that they might have their faces uncovered, so as both to see and hear the little friend that had flown off to us, as if it were a messenger to welcome our party backto life and friends. Long and anxiously was it watched as it winged its course towards the land, whither we also were slowly wending our way.

On the 29th the colours were again displayed at lunch time, in commemoration of the first anniversary of our sailing from England, and allusions were made to that ever-memorable day, comparisons being drawn between our condition then and now! On that evening our tents were pitched close to the boat that we had abandoned on our outward journey, and which we found exactly in the same state as when we left it, with its mast stepped and yard hoisted, standing out like a grim sentinel guarding those icy wastes.

On the 31st, whilst crossing some young ice between two heavy floes, one of the sledges broke through, and we had no little trouble in saving it from complete immersion, and the invalid who was on it from being drowned! These warnings were unmistakeable, and pointed to the necessity of reaching the land as quickly as possible. The falling snow and drift thawed upon our clothes, making us wet and extremely wretched and uncomfortable.

On the 1st of June the temperature was some two or three degrees above freezing point. This had the effect of thawing the surface snow and converting it into a thick sludge. Our foot gear in consequence was in a soaking wet state. Our working force on this day was reduced to six, and all suffering more or less.

On the 2nd the thick weather, which had so persistently clung to us, proved triumphant and robbed us of our road. Up to this date we had been able to avail ourselves of the road constructed with so much trouble and labour on our outward journey. On thisday we wandered off it, and in spite of our efforts were unable to pick up the trail again. The severe and monotonous labour of road-making had again to be resorted to. On the 5th, to our very great joy, we succeeded once more in pitching our camp onterra firma, after an absence from it of two months. On first landing our hopes were excited on observing the recent traces of a sledge and human footprints, and we congratulated ourselves upon soon obtaining that relief we all so much required; but we were doomed to disappointment, for on reaching the depôt of provisions established near Cape Joseph Henry for our use, and which was found intact, we learnt that a sledge party with Captain Nares had left for the ship only two days previously! This was a bitter blow, for we knew that something more than provisions was needed for the safety of the party.

We learnt also that scurvy had made its appearance on board the “Alert,” and that poor Petersen died from the effects of his last sledge journey, on the 14th of May.

Three hares had been kindly and thoughtfully left for us in a crevice amongst the hummocks by Captain Nares, and this furnished us with meals for a couple of days; it is needless to add, they were done ample justice to, not only for the sake of their goodness and the change they afforded, but also because we thought the fresh meat would act as a specific against the scurvy.

The tracks of a wolf were observed near the depôt, and the animal was frequently heard howling in a mournful manner, but we never saw it.

Obtaining a few supplies from the depôt, our march was again resumed; but so rapid had been the encroachmentsof the disease, that it was only too palpable that immediate succour was absolutely necessary for our salvation. At the rate of progress we were making, it would take us fully three weeks to reach the ship, although only forty miles distant; and who would there be left in three weeks’ time? The few who were still strong enough to drag the sledges would barely last as many days! Assistance had, therefore, to be obtained. To procure it, one amongst us was ready and willing to set out on this lonely and solitary mission, with the firm reliance of being able to accomplish what he had undertaken, and with the knowledge that he possessed the full confidence of those for whose relief he was about to start on a long and hazardous walk. On the 7th of June Lieut. Parr started on his arduous march to the ship. Deep and heartfelt were the God-speeds uttered as he took his departure, and anxiously was his retreating form watched until it was gradually lost to sight amidst the interminable hummocks.

“All waste! no sign of lifeBut the track of the wolf and the bear!No sound but the wild, wild wind,And the snow crunching under his feet.”

“All waste! no sign of life

But the track of the wolf and the bear!

No sound but the wild, wild wind,

And the snow crunching under his feet.”

Although the loss of one strong man, like Parr, from the party was seriously felt, still the knowledge that active steps had been taken to procure aid was sufficient to compensate for this reduction in our strength, and the men gallantly persevered at the drag-ropes, buoyed up by renewed hopes.

On the day previous to that on which Parr left, an Eskimo dog, to our great surprise, was seen threading its way to us through the hummocks. It was soonrecognized to be one of our dogs, named Flo; but she was so timid that at first nothing would induce her to approach. After a little time, however, we coaxed her to us, and on having some pemmican thrown to her she ate it ravenously. Poor thing! she was wretchedly thin and emaciated; she, we concluded, had been cast adrift, or made her escape from the last dog-sledge that visited this neighbourhood. She joined our tail of cripples, hobbling, like them, after us and carefully walking in the track of our sledges.

On the 8th of June sadness and despondency prevailed amongst our little band. One of our number had received that summons to which all must at some time attend, and had been called to his long account.

“His soul to Him who gave it rose.God led it to its long repose—Its glorious rest.”

“His soul to Him who gave it rose.

God led it to its long repose—

Its glorious rest.”

This was a terrible and unexpected blow to many who regarded themselves as being in a still more critical and precarious condition than was poor Porter. His end was calm and peaceful, and he retained his senses to within five minutes of the time of dissolution.

Sad and mournful, indeed, was the small procession that wended its way slowly to the new-made grave, dug out of a frozen soil, carrying the lifeless remains of their comrade, covered with the Union Jack, on the same sledge on which he had been dragged, whilst alive, for many weeks; and there, with the tears trickling down their weather-beaten and smoke-begrimed faces, with their hearts so full as to choke all utterance, they laid their late fellow-sufferer in his last resting-place.

A rude cross, improvised out of the rough materials that our own equipment supplied, with a brief inscription, marks the lone and dreary spot in that far-off icy desert where rests our comrade in his long sleep that knows no waking, and where probably human foot will never again tread.

“O World! so few the years we live,Would that the life that thou dost giveWere life indeed!Alas! thy sorrows fall so fast,Our happiest hour is when at lastThe soul is freed.”

“O World! so few the years we live,

Would that the life that thou dost give

Were life indeed!

Alas! thy sorrows fall so fast,

Our happiest hour is when at last

The soul is freed.”

Gladly, after the ceremony was concluded, was the order to renew the march received, every one being desirous of quitting a place so fraught with sad and melancholy associations; the day, as if in unison with the state of our own thoughts and feelings, was dull and gloomy.

The late mournful event produced a despondency in our little band to which we had hitherto been strangers.

One and all felt and knew that assistance, to be of any avail, must arrive speedily, and many a wistful glance was directed towards the south, in the faint hope of seeing that succour without which they would surely perish. They felt more their own weakness and helplessness, and dreaded a recurrence of what had recently taken place. The journey was silently and wearily resumed.

As many of the men were unable to eat their pemmican, on account of the soreness of their gums, and from a certain dislike that they had lately taken to it, a new “dish” was tried, consisting of preserved potatoes mixed with bacon fat, and although in flavour,if any was perceptible, it rather resembled what starch might be like, it was decidedly acceptable as a change, and each person consumed about two-thirds of a pannikin.

On the morning of the 9th a rainbow was seen, which, being an unusual sight, afforded much interest. On the same day, shortly after the march had been commenced, a moving object was suddenly seen amidst the hummocks to the southward. At first it was regarded as an optical illusion, for we could scarcely realize the fact that it could be anybody from the “Alert!” With what intense anxiety this object was regarded is beyond description.

Gradually emerging from the hummocks, a hearty cheer put an end to the suspense that was almost agonizing, as a dog-sledge with three men was seen to be approaching. A cheer in return was attempted, but so full were our hearts that it resembled more a wail than a cheer.

It is impossible to describe our feelings as May and Moss came up, and we received from them a warm and hearty welcome. We felt that we were saved, and a feeling of thankfulness and gratitude was uppermost in our minds, as we shook the hands of those who had hurried out to our relief the moment that Parr had conveyed to them intelligence of our distress. Those who a few short moments before were in the lowest depths of despondency, appeared now in the most exuberant spirits. Pain was disregarded and hardships were forgotten as numerous and varied questions were asked and answered.

We heard with delight that they were only the vanguard of a larger party, headed by Captain Nares himself, that was coming out to our relief, and whichwe should probably meet on the following day. A halt was immediately ordered, cooking utensils lighted up, ice made into water, and we were soon all enjoying a good pannikin full of lime-juice, with the prospect of mutton for supper!

After halting for the night Moss made a thorough medical inspection of the whole party. His report was by no means cheering: all were more or less affected, and some were in a very precarious condition. The presence, however, of a medical officer amongst us restored confidence, and acted as a powerful antiscorbutic!

On the following day we met the larger party coming out to our assistance, and with their help arrived alongside the “Alert” on the 14th of June, seventy-two days after our departure from the ship.

What a contrast did that departure afford to our return!

Then, on that bright but cold April morning, all were in the highest spirits, cheerful and enthusiastic, looking forward with confidence to a comparatively successful issue to their undertaking—a fine, strong, and resolute band.

Alas! how different was the return! Out of that party of fifteen men, one had gone to his long home, eleven others were carried alongside the ship on sledges dragged by a party despatched to their relief, and only the remaining three were capable of walking.2Even they were scarcely able to move one leg before the other, and were, on their return, placed with the others under the doctor’s hands. It was, indeed, a sad and terrible calamity with which we had been afflicted, totally unexpected and unparalleled in theannals of Arctic sledging experiences. On our arrival alongside the ship, we were, of course, most warmly welcomed by every soul on board; before entering Captain Nares called for three cheers for our party, and then offered up thanks to Almighty God for having preserved us through many dangers and privations, and for guiding us back to our ship without further loss of life.


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