CHAPTER IX.DISCO ISLAND.
“A rockyislet in the sea,A lonely harbor on its lee,The roaring surf around!Chill are the winds and cold the sky,Dead in the dells the flowers lie,The snow is on the ground!“A desert drear as e’er was seen;It seems as if there has not beenA trace of human life!I write again. Upon the rockI’ve found a home, a loving flock—A husband, child, and wife.“And thus it is—here Greenland frowns,The name to others harshly sounds;’Tis everywhere the same!If we but taste the sweets of love,It matters little—rock or grove—There’s nothing in a name.“God bless that home upon the rock!God bless that happy, loving flock,And keep them from all harm!My bark again bounds o’er the sea;Away, away once more I fleeTo nothing half so warm!”Our Sagaman.
“A rockyislet in the sea,A lonely harbor on its lee,The roaring surf around!Chill are the winds and cold the sky,Dead in the dells the flowers lie,The snow is on the ground!“A desert drear as e’er was seen;It seems as if there has not beenA trace of human life!I write again. Upon the rockI’ve found a home, a loving flock—A husband, child, and wife.“And thus it is—here Greenland frowns,The name to others harshly sounds;’Tis everywhere the same!If we but taste the sweets of love,It matters little—rock or grove—There’s nothing in a name.“God bless that home upon the rock!God bless that happy, loving flock,And keep them from all harm!My bark again bounds o’er the sea;Away, away once more I fleeTo nothing half so warm!”Our Sagaman.
“A rockyislet in the sea,A lonely harbor on its lee,The roaring surf around!Chill are the winds and cold the sky,Dead in the dells the flowers lie,The snow is on the ground!
“A rockyislet in the sea,
A lonely harbor on its lee,
The roaring surf around!
Chill are the winds and cold the sky,
Dead in the dells the flowers lie,
The snow is on the ground!
“A desert drear as e’er was seen;It seems as if there has not beenA trace of human life!I write again. Upon the rockI’ve found a home, a loving flock—A husband, child, and wife.
“A desert drear as e’er was seen;
It seems as if there has not been
A trace of human life!
I write again. Upon the rock
I’ve found a home, a loving flock—
A husband, child, and wife.
“And thus it is—here Greenland frowns,The name to others harshly sounds;’Tis everywhere the same!If we but taste the sweets of love,It matters little—rock or grove—There’s nothing in a name.
“And thus it is—here Greenland frowns,
The name to others harshly sounds;
’Tis everywhere the same!
If we but taste the sweets of love,
It matters little—rock or grove—
There’s nothing in a name.
“God bless that home upon the rock!God bless that happy, loving flock,And keep them from all harm!My bark again bounds o’er the sea;Away, away once more I fleeTo nothing half so warm!”Our Sagaman.
“God bless that home upon the rock!
God bless that happy, loving flock,
And keep them from all harm!
My bark again bounds o’er the sea;
Away, away once more I flee
To nothing half so warm!”
Our Sagaman.
Disco Island is one of the most notable localities in Greenland. There is a legend that a mighty sorcerer, or angeikut, dragged the island there from the south; and even to the present time they point out a remarkable holein the rock, on its north side, through which the evil genius of the island rove his rope. The island is upwards of a hundred miles long, is everywhere very lofty, and presents the most superb lines of cliffs of trap rock that I have ever seen. On the south side of the island, in latitude 69°, there is a low and ragged spur of granite rock, near a mile in length, which incloses as perfect a little harbor as can anywhere be found, and this the Danes have expressed in the name Godhavn (Good-harbor), which they have given it. This rocky spur is a peninsula at low water; at high water an island. On the north side of it, facing the great tall trap cliffs which tower up two thousand feet above the harbor, stands the little town which takes its name from the harbor, though better known by the English whalers’ name of Lievely, which is probably a corruption of lively, for the town is the metropolis of North Greenland; and, having been a general rendezvous for whale and discovery ships almost from the beginning of the present century, its metropolitan gayety has become widely celebrated.
It was on a cold, gray, misty morning that we arrived at Godhavn. There had been heavy frosts and a light spurt of snow; and the little town being hidden from view in the gloomy atmosphere, it is not surprising that it should have impressed our sagaman, as it did all of us, rather unfavorably. But this feeling speedily wore off after we had landed and called at the inspector’s house—a house to me not new, for there I had in former years spent many pleasant days with the prior incumbent, Justitsraad Olrik, now director of the Greenland Company in Copenhagen.
The present inspector is Herr Krarup Smith, a young man of perhaps two-and-thirty, who possesses the same enthusiastic fondness for scientific discovery for which Mr.Olrik was distinguished, and the same cultivated appreciation of its importance; and being obliged every year to visit each of the districts and subordinate stations within his inspectorate, he has made many valuable observations, and collected many rare and curious specimens; among which are some fossil remains of the limestone, coal, and slate deposits of Disco Island, and other localities of Disco Bay. This bay appears to have been a great carboniferous basin, coal being found to crop out on almost every side of it.
The inspector’s wife seemed to be quite as well content with her Greenland home as the inspector was himself, and there never was a happier baby than the Greenland-born Elizabet, whose first birthday we were hospitably called upon to assist in celebrating immediately after our arrival.
The inspector’s house is not, by any means, an imposing edifice, being of the usual pitchy hue; but it is comfortable, and sufficiently capacious. The suite of rooms—comprising billiard-room, dining-room, and parlor—into which we were ushered by the same Sophy who had presided there as housekeeper these many years past, and who wore the inevitable silver seal-skin pantaloons and dainty snow-white boots as of old, had nothing to indicate that we were three degrees north of the Arctic Circle. Some prints of fruits and flowers were hanging on the dining-room walls, and the parlor was literally strewn with books and family souvenirs, and also music. A piano stood in one corner, and bore evidence of being well used. Bright flowers were blooming in the windows, and the faces of two bright young ladies, one the sister of the inspector, the other of his wife, were there, as if on purpose to make the picture quite complete and leave nothing to be wished for.
These young ladies were on a visit, having come out from Denmark the previous summer; and now, at the end of the year, they were about to return in theHvalfisken, a brig which came into the harbor soon after our arrival. I asked how they liked this Greenland life? They had no fault to find with it at all, except the ending of it. They would stay another year, only for the homes across the sea, where they were sadly missed, as I could well imagine they must be.
Godhavn is not so lacking in life as most of the other towns. Here all the Danish ships are obliged to come to receive their orders from the inspector, both upon their arrival and departure from the Greenland waters; and of late years, during the search for Sir John Franklin, here is where all the searchers came to taste the first sweets of home, after a long imprisonment in the inhospitable regions around Beechy Island and elsewhere. And none left without carrying away the most lively recollections of the place and of the genial Justitsraad Olrik; nor did any body ever forget the Justitsraad’s housekeeper, the inimitable Sophy.
Godhavn is too far north for the production of such garden-luxuries as we found at Julianashaab on our first arrival in the country; yet little round red radishes were not wanting any more now than they had been when Mr. Olrik formerly invited me to his table. But they were grown beneath glass, and not in the open air, the earth being brought in barrels from Copenhagen. There was also a head of lettuce, reared in the same manner, for the perfection of the very excellent luncheon to which Mrs. Smith invited us upon our first appearance.
As Godhavn is the most pleasant and lively of all the Greenland towns, so Disco Island presents the most picturesque and attractive scenery. Looking from the townacross the harbor, which is not over half a mile wide, you face the lofty cliffs of trap rock, which extend to right and left for miles. Above they are capped with snow; below, the waves break upon them fiercely, and the icebergs are ground to pieces on their sharp angles.
I walked out with the ladies of the inspector’s family, and had a fine view of the cliffs from behind the town; thence we proceeded across the narrow neck of rocks around the head of the harbor, and, after strolling along a beautiful sandy beach which stretches in a grand curve for a mile, we entered a valley beside a broad and rapid stream, called Rothe River, which breaks through deep caverns of the most picturesque description, and over the tortured rocks dashes in falls of rare beauty. I can not imagine any thing more wild than the scene before us at the summit of the principal fall. Looking up the valley, I could trace the winding stream to an immense glacier that descended from the lofty hills. Directly abreast of these, to the left, was another glacier, which, having poured down over a very steep and rugged declivity, was twisted into the most fantastic shapes. Above towered the grand crest of Lyngmarkens Fjeld, over which snow-clouds were sweeping before a wind that did not reach us in our sheltered situation. The air in the valley was calm, and the day was unusually warm for the time of year. The light snow that had fallen three days before, and which gave such a gloomy aspect to the land upon our first arrival in Godhavn, had now disappeared, and there was still something of the summer green which had clothed the valley. Even bright flowers, though wilted by the frost, and drooping languidly, were there, yet they seemed to be pleading mournfully for life.
One must come to these Arctic wilds to perfect his love and reverence for these sweet gifts of nature. They seemto be clothed here with a new significance—an intelligence of their own, which warns them that their life must needs be short, and that they must quickly prepare for their end, and provide speedily for their posterity. From the time when “lingering winter chills the lap of spring” to that when the very slight warmth which the summer has given to the earth has been dissipated by the returning frosts—between the deep snows of those two periods—there occurs a remarkable series of transformations. The snow has scarcely disappeared before the seed swells into life; and in a few days green supplants the universal whiteness. Blossoms gay and smiling burst forth with corresponding rapidity; the new seeds are formed, and fall to be covered with their winter cloak; and from the beginning to the end there is scarcely an interval of six weeks. One can not look upon this astonishing growth—flowering, seeding, and decay—and witness this adaptation of life to the conditions of climate, without wonder. Alfieri has beautifully expressed the feeling in these lines:
“Oh, ’tis the touch of fairy handThat wakes the spring of Northern land.It warms not there by slow degrees,With changeful pulse, the uncertain breeze;But sudden on the wondering sightBursts forth the beam of living light,And instant verdure springs around,And magic flowers bedeck the ground.”
“Oh, ’tis the touch of fairy handThat wakes the spring of Northern land.It warms not there by slow degrees,With changeful pulse, the uncertain breeze;But sudden on the wondering sightBursts forth the beam of living light,And instant verdure springs around,And magic flowers bedeck the ground.”
“Oh, ’tis the touch of fairy handThat wakes the spring of Northern land.It warms not there by slow degrees,With changeful pulse, the uncertain breeze;But sudden on the wondering sightBursts forth the beam of living light,And instant verdure springs around,And magic flowers bedeck the ground.”
“Oh, ’tis the touch of fairy hand
That wakes the spring of Northern land.
It warms not there by slow degrees,
With changeful pulse, the uncertain breeze;
But sudden on the wondering sight
Bursts forth the beam of living light,
And instant verdure springs around,
And magic flowers bedeck the ground.”
The Governor of Godhavn, Mr. Frederick Hansen, whom I had before met at Proven and Upernavik in a similar capacity, was of our party; and, being himself a famous walker, it was proposed that we should attempt to scale the glacier to our left, and climb to the summit of the Lyngmarkens Fjeld—a feat which had never been performed. The great white rolling plain that stretchedaway so high above us was indeed tempting; and none of us were more eager to make the trial than the ladies themselves. Mr. Hansen, who had climbed every thing that it seemed possible to climb, was of opinion that the thing could not be done; and the first suggestion of the effort appeared, in fact, more like a jest than sober earnest. It came from one of the ladies, however, and gallantry alone was of itself sufficient to prompt a ready response. We would climb the glacier, certainly, if the ladies, who were “both young and fair,” were so minded—of course we would; but it must be confessed that there were doubting eyes cast upon the Lyngmarkens Fjeld.
It being agreed that the effort was to be made, we returned to the village and had a game of billiards at the inspector’s house. On the following day, in company with the “Professor,” the “Prince,” the “Colonel,” the “Major,” and our chief “Nimrod,” I made a preliminary exploration. After ascending the valley to the falls, we pursued our course along the bank of a stream which tears down through a cleft in the solid rock about two hundred feet deep, and came finally to the glacier, by the side of which, sometimes on the ice and sometimes on the rocks, through the gorge formed by the ice-stream meeting the base of the cliffs, we climbed to an altitude of eighteen hundred feet above the sea. The ascent was very difficult. The ice was here broken up in the most wonderful manner. The lines of stratification showed a great variety of curves, especially in one place where it had poured over a cliff, as if it had been a tenacious, plastic, semi-fluid mass flowing down by force of gravity, and moulding itself in conformity with the changing bed over which it had descended.
The ridge of sand and rock that had been ploughed up in front measured one hundred and twenty feet in altitude.By watching it carefully we could see and hear it moving. A great boulder, losing its balance, rolled from the crest above, and, loosening a great quantity of stones, mud, and sand, came rolling down near where we stood, making a fearful uproar. At the same moment the tall cliff above us let loose some immense fragments, which, bursting in pieces like bomb-shells, bounded down the steep slope at its base; and the two avalanches, meeting in the gorge, changed their direction, and went crashing down to the valley at a fearful rate, directly over the track which we had pursued in coming up. Had this occurred a few minutes sooner we should have been overwhelmed; for not only were enormous rocks zigzaging their way along with increasing violence and velocity, but the air was filled with lesser fragments, which flew almost with the speed of lightning.
This catastrophe impelled us the more earnestly to continue the ascent, and to find, either along the base of, or over the Lyngmarkens Fjeld, a new way to Godhavn, But our efforts proved unavailing. The ice-cliffs could not be scaled, and there was nothing left for us but to take the back track, which we did with fear and trembling. Fortunately, there were no more avalanches to disturb us, and we arrived on board thePantherwith nothing worse than great fatigue and a thorough drenching; for while we were upon the ice, to add still further to the discomfort of our situation, a heavy shower of rain, sleet, and snow set upon us.
The report of our failure to find a passage to the summit of the mountain did not at all discourage the courageous ladies; but, on the contrary, only inspired them with greater eagerness. Even the story of the fearful avalanche did not cool their adventurous ardor, nor the doleful account of the cold storm dampen their zeal. Itwas resolved to make the attempt by the great cliffs across the harbor.
The cliffs are there cut through by the most sublime gorges that eye ever looked upon. These gorges appeared, however, to be as inaccessible as the valleys of the moon.
Mr. Hansen laughed at the idea. “Impossible!” said he. “These brave ladies will climb with any body, as I know well enough, after a year’s practice with them, but neither they nor you can go up that way.”
But the matter of the trial could not be settled at once, as the next day promised a storm like that of the day before; so I gladly availed myself of Mr. Hansen’s obliging offer to lead me to other fields of investigation, and for three days thereafter I was well employed.
Mr. Hansen communicated to me many interesting facts, and through his instrumentality and that of the inspector I was enabled to visit the coal-fields, which are here very extensive.
I found Mr. Hansen to be an enthusiastic naturalist. Among other valuable specimens which I owed to his kindness was a large collection of birds’ eggs and skins, and some fossils. To the study of the birds of the region and their habits he has devoted much attention. The great auk, long since supposed to be entirely extinct, he told me had been recently seen on one of the Whale-fish islands. Two years before one had been actually captured by a native, who, being very hungry, and wholly ignorant of the great value of the prize he had secured, proceeded at once to eat it, much to the disgust of Mr. Hansen, who did not learn of it until too late to come to the rescue. How little the poor savage thought of the great fortune he had just missed by hastily indulging his appetite!
THE GREAT AUK.
THE GREAT AUK.
The great auk is not the only mysterious creature in Greenland that seems likely soon to become entirely extinct, for there is, besides, the fierce and powerful amarok, which has been in latter times rarely seen, and is much dreaded. It is the national terror of the nursery and children are frightened to sleep or kept at home with threats of calling the awful monster, whose rapacity is so great that he can take off any number of Esquimaux babies that you choose to name. This animal, which is an enormous wolf, is not, however, quite as fabulous as the old wives’ stories would incline you to believe, one having actually appeared in the country within a few years, and,after committing the most fearful ravages among the dogs, and terrifying the people, was finally shot. His skin now adorns the Copenhagen Museum. The story has spread everywhere, and is related by every body with the same zest that a frontiersman would tell of an Indian raid.
Disco Bay, which separates the island from the main-land, is sixty miles wide, and is a splendid sheet of water. Several glaciers pour their frozen floods into it, and grand processions of icebergs stretch over it towards the outlets above and below the island. One of these glaciers is exceptionally fine. It is known as the Jacobshavn Glacier, or, as the Danes call it, Jacobshavn’s Eis-strom; and this, since we could not at present climb the hills of Disco Island, we resolved to visit. Its name is derived from a little town near by, and for this little town we steamed away in the early morning, while the sun was silvering the mountain crests and melting away the chilly mists of the night.