CHAPTER XI.A WEEK IN GODHAVN.

Wereturned to Godhavn on the 10th of September, and for a week thereafter travelled about the Island of Disco as we found opportunity and inclination. To the geologist, as previously intimated, Disco presents a most interesting field of study, and the professor was accordingly busy all the while, pursuing his researches with characteristic enthusiasm. The artists were constantly at work with camera and pencil. In this, the metropolis of Greenland, it was not difficult for the pleasure-seekers to find opportunity to amuse themselves and the captain whiled away the time by tearing to pieces the wreck of a whale-ship which had been run aground at the mouth of the harbor, as rumor had it, in order to secure insurance money. If such was the case, her people certainly took good care to insure their own lives, for the vessel was within sight of the town on a sandy beach, where the sea never breaks, and full a quarter of a mile out of the channel. The people were sent home in the Danish ships, and if they obtained their insurance they surely did not get their deserts.

To Governor Hansen I was again indebted for aid in such investigations as I desired to make—especially in relation to the coal-fields, which are chiefly interesting because of their being so far north. Vast quantities of vegetable matter were deposited here in a remote geological epoch, which goes to show that Greenland would once have deserved its name had human beings existed thereto give it the one which is now as absurdly inappropriate as Achilles to an organ-grinder. I was enabled to obtain a good collection of specimens, many of which I owed to the politeness of Inspector Smith, and among others of particular interest, a fragment of a cone of an evergreen, that had ripened here in the era of the lower miocene of Europe. In relation to these coal deposits of Greenland, Professor Oswald Kerr has made many important discoveries, and from his able report I make the following extract:

“Among the most interesting specimens” [collected by himself] “were the flowers and fruit of a chestnut—the latter, however, in a very imperfect condition. The discovery of these proves that the deposits in which they are found were formed at different seasons—in spring as well as in summer. The known miocene plants of Greenland have now reached the number of 137 species; and those of the Arctic miocene flora altogether number 194 species. Of the Greenland species 46, or exactly one-third, agree with those of the miocene deposits of Europe. The determination of the age of the beds as lower miocene has been accordingly ascertained.”

These coal-measures of Greenland are not confined to Disco Island. Extensive veins crop out as well on the main-land. On the north side of the Waigat coal is found in abundance, and also around the margin of the Great Omenak Fiord. This latter is, with the exception of Melville Bay, the most thickly studded with icebergs and glaciers of any part of the Greenland coast, and while viewing them it seems strange to behold in immediate proximity great black streaks of carboniferous deposits, suggestive of a former condition of life and heat instead of cold.

I had the more occasion to feel indebted to Mr. Hansen for his assistance, that he was busily engaged with preparationsfor returning to Copenhagen, with his wife and their little son Fred, a bright Greenland-born boy of four years. I found him well posted in the doings of naturalists. He even knew that there was a “Central Park Museum;” and at his request I took charge of a present he desired to make them—a commission which was duly executed, and politely acknowledged. I likewise did the same with the Smithsonian Institute, with a like result. Among those that went to the latter was a pair of gyrfalcon skins, which Mr. Hansen sent more than fifty miles to get for me. He was equally generous with his collection of native curiosities, and to a member of the party, who valued such things more than objects of natural history, he freely offered almost every thing he had; and I much fear there were a good many friends disappointed in Copenhagen that winter when the governor’s empty boxes were exposed. This generosity was the greater that such articles have a commercial value at home.

Theevent of our week’s stay in Godhavn, however, was the ascent of the cliffs facing the town, to the summit of Lyngmarkens Fjeld. Mr. Hansen could not accompany us on account of pressing business; and, in fact, he had no faith whatever in the success of the undertaking. Our party, when made up, consisted of the two young ladies mentioned in a previous chapter; the inspector and his secretary; and half a dozen adventurers from thePanther, including of course, the captain and the Prince. Armed each with a pocketful of lunch, we sallied forth at nine o’clock in the morning, and crossing the bay under as bright a sun as ever shone, in a most delicious autumnal atmosphere, we landed on a broad green slope, which we ascended to the base of the first crest or ridge of trap rock, where we paused to rest.

Up to this point we had followed the bank of a stream,which was now seen to break through a cleft of immense depth, and tumbling then in a beautiful fall, came out from beneath a great cloud of spray in a rushing torrent of white foam. This ridge descends gradually towards the sea in a south-easterly direction, and then spreading out, presents a wide plain, which the action of the weather has left in a most singular condition. The softer rock has been worn away, while the more solid parts remain; and for a mile the aspect of the surface resembles a clearing dotted over with stumps. Some of the forms are quite remarkable: one about twenty feet high, bears the name of “Lot’s wife.”

After crossing this ridge the real labors of the day began, for we came then to the great slope of naked rocks which had fallen from the cliffs, that now towered above our heads until they seemed to touch the sky.

Of all the climbing ever done by “ladies fair,” I think nothing ever could have excelled the performances of our very agreeable companions on that rocky slope. The stones were sharp, the footing was insecure, and the whole foundation on which we stood seemed liable to give way and send us all rolling down to the black gorges beneath, in the midst of a fearful avalanche. To look down made one fairly giddy; to look up made one tremble; and yet the ladies held firmly to their purpose, and were always the last to pause for breath, and the first to say, “Shall we go on again?” Their courage never flagged, as on and on, over the rugged stones and through the ugly gorges, we made our way, steadily nearing the Lyngmarkens Fjeld, which human foot had thus far never trod. It was not the height of it that made the climb such a serious matter—it was the great roughness of the track. Several times stones gave way, and feet and legs were jammed, skinned, and bruised; twice a general slide was threatened;but only once was there very serious alarm. Then two of the party had imprudently clambered on ahead, and loosened some rocks which went bounding past us, whirling away down into a cloud of vapor which rose out of a deep cleft from the foot of a water-fall. One rock seemed to be making directly for our fair comrades, who were then resting, quite unconscious of harm; but this the gallant captain, who was following up the two who were in advance, was quick and bold enough to intercept by throwing himself upon it bodily.

Over this rocky debris we climbed, how far I can not tell, though probably for about two miles; and then we stood at the base of the cliffs, and, by barometric measurement, 1500 feet above the sea. Here a cleft opened before us, which we entered, and between lofty walls of dark reddish-brown rocks, and beside the stream we had before followed to the falls, we ascended by a less difficult and dangerous route, until we reached the permanent snow, where the stream itself originated. This was 1700 feet above the sea. Here we rested, lunched, quenched our thirst, and then, upon the soft snow we mounted up to the glacier, 250 feet higher. The glacier only here and there showed its icy character, and, presenting but few crevasses, we found little difficulty in getting above the cliffs, and at length to the summit of the fjeld—a word which quite expresses its character, for nothing could be more desolate and barren than the great plain of whiteness on which we stood. We were then 3016 feet above the sea, and the view which burst upon us at that lofty height was extremely fine. The air being perfectly clear, except at one point away below us, where some light mist was trailing along the cliffs, we could see certainly at least eighty or ninety miles. Overlooking the village to the south, we saw the Crown Prince Islands, twenty milesaway, sharply defined like dark specks upon a silvered surface. Beyond them, still with the silver setting all round, were the Hunde Islands; and the lofty coasts and hills of Bunkee Land, in the neighborhood of Egedesminde, rose farther in the distance, but still far within the bounds of vision. Looking east, over the top of the Great Skarve Fjeld, the mountains of Jacobshavn pierced the sky with their snowy crests, and all around in that quarter through an arc of seventy degrees the vast plain of themer de glaceappeared beyond the mightiest peaks, and melted against the sky in a pearly line of light. Behind us were the icy peaks and snowy plains of Disco. But the most novel exhibition was on the sea. Thousands of icebergs were scattered over the bay in all directions, presenting the most diverse shapes. Near by they were few in number, and widely distributed; but they multiplied rapidly, and their track became more concentrated towards Jacobshavn, until beneath the dark land they melted into each other and were lost to view between the walls of the great fiord. And yet in the scene before us this immense glacier of Jacobshavn was but a white streak, and the mammoth icebergs but pigmy specks.

We spent about an hour in this novel situation, wandering about over the white snow, which (the temperature being three degrees above freezing) was quite soft, though in places a firm crust had formed. We saw no true ice there, and, not being provided with any implements for digging, we could not ascertain at what depth the ice forms; nor were there any crevasses to embarrass us until we attempted to explore a way back by the Rothe River valley, where we were speedily interrupted. There was nothing left for us, therefore, but to return by the way we had come, after the fashion of that famous Frencharmy which marched up the hill and then marched down again. And the results of our labors were of quite as little importance to the world; but we had gratified a not unreasonable curiosity, and enjoyed an adventurous experience of a very unusual character.

Our opportunities for a demonstration were rather meagre. We did not have an American flag to float and salute; but, out of compliment to the ladies and to their country, which owns the mountain, we improvised a Danish one, using a red handkerchief for a groundwork and two white ones for the cross. This being unfurled to the breeze and lustily cheered, we set out on our return journey, which, not having now the stimulus of ambition and curiosity to spur us on, was even more tedious, and seemed more wearisome than the ascent. At the gorge by the water-fall we were met by a messenger from the inspector’s wife, with a hamper containing some refreshments, which were most eagerly devoured. They were, indeed, a timely gift. The thoughtful lady had watched the mountain-side with a telescope, and when we came in sight she graciously contrived this agreeable surprise for us.

It was eight o’clock when we reached the inspector’s house, having been just eleven hours on the march. The sun had passed around behind the island, and the dark shadow of the cliffs was on the town; but above arose the great spotless crown of Lyngmarken, all radiant in the gold and purple light that burst up from the north.

The following day was a lively one in Godhavn. TheConstancia, with Captain Bang, our friend of some days back, was there now and both he and Captain Saxtorph of theHvalfiskenwere eager, as were we also, to be on the way out of the region of icebergs before the nights grew any darker; but theConstanciahad to remain for the last dispatches home from the inspector. We were,however, ready, and offered to tow theHvalfiskenout to sea, which offer being accepted, every preparation was made for leaving early the next morning. The passengers took up their quarters on board the brig but, returning ashore in the evening, we had another pleasant entertainment at the inspector’s hospitable house, the enjoyment of which was only broken by the knowledge that it was to be the last. I could but think, too, how lonely must be the inspector’s wife on the morrow, with her two sisters gone away, and with not another white woman there to keep her company; for the new governor was a bachelor, and there was neither priest nor doctor in the place to bring wives there, even if they would.

There was even no one of her own sex with whom she could converse in the Danish language, except the half-breed Sophy, or Sophia Tabita, as she was universally known in all North Greenland—and even she was going away; for at last the little love-god had found his way through the hitherto impenetrable barriers of her heart, and in a month or so she was to marry the Colonibestyrere of Christianshavn, and, resigning the proud place of belle of Disco, would henceforth be buried in obscurity among the icebergs of Jacobshavn Fiord, where no ship ever comes by any chance, except the one ship of the year, and where none of the merry times of good old Lievely will ever return to enliven her new home.

The bright rays of the morning sun had just fallen upon the little town when we dipped our flag to the royal ensign which waved over the governor’s house, cheered the inspector, and steamed away with theHvalfisken. As we rounded the outer horn of the harbor I saw the inspector and his wife mount to the look-out station, where they stood watching the brig that followed us, and waving adieus to their sisters, from whom dangerous seas weresure to separate them for many a long year, and perhaps forever.

At length the island disappeared against the cliff, and we saw them no more; then the cliffs sank down—the Great Lyngmarken became a speck of brightness on the waste of waters; then it too was lost; and this “Land of Desolation,” around which will always cling pleasant memories of hospitable people, unusual adventures, and a profitably spent summer, fades away, and an experience the like of which might be had by many at small cost and little risk, takes its place among the “departed joys.”

We have still, however, one Greenland token left with us, and that we propose to leave behind us too, for dark clouds are rising in the sky, and a dirty night is coming on; besides, an ugly sea is getting up, and theHvalfisken’shawser is in danger.

“Brig ahoy!” roars out the captain.

A head appears above the bulwarks, and an answering “Ay, ay,” comes across the water.

“Stand by—we are going to cast you off.”

“Stop, stop a bit,” cries the sagaman.

“What for?” the captain asks.

“You shall see;” and sure enough we do, for he whips a scrap of paper from his pocket, on which something is written; he hands it round; we sign it, one and all; the captain puts it in a bottle, which he corks tightly, and, along with another bottle of more portly size, labelled “Reserve L. G. L.,” he puts it in a tin box, which Mick ties to the hawser and lets fall into the sea. We hear a lively cry on board the brig as they haul in the line; we see a sailor find the box and take it aft; and we know, presently, that the paper is deciphered, and our pledges responded to, by the appearance of heads above the quarter-rail, the fluttering of handkerchiefs, and the unmistakable appearance ofglasses raised at arm’s length, all of which evidences of hilarity will be best understood by repeating the round robin our sagaman had written, and we had sent through the sea as our final adieu to “The Land of Desolation.” Thus it ran:

“We drop you a line, and we bid you adieu!Now fill up your glasses and pledges renew,In this wine of the South—this foaming Champagne!The Lady of Disco—that right queenly Dane,With whom we have left (let the wine freely flow),Our hearts and bright wishes and prayers also.“May the bleak Norland winter—that night of despair—Leave the bloom in her cheek and the gold in her hair,And the light in her eye, as bright as the blueOf the sky in the summer, the clouds breaking through.Those round her she loves, may the storms, sweeping wild,Pass over them gently—the father and child.“A bumper! The ladies inHvalfiskensbrig;Another! Her captain, that sailor so trig:To the governor too, his frau and his Fred;Toalla good-night on their wave-rockéd bed;To the brig a good voyage. Hip! hip! and hurra!The last cup is drained, and—there’s no more to say.”

“We drop you a line, and we bid you adieu!

Now fill up your glasses and pledges renew,

In this wine of the South—this foaming Champagne!

The Lady of Disco—that right queenly Dane,

With whom we have left (let the wine freely flow),

Our hearts and bright wishes and prayers also.

“May the bleak Norland winter—that night of despair—Leave the bloom in her cheek and the gold in her hair,And the light in her eye, as bright as the blueOf the sky in the summer, the clouds breaking through.Those round her she loves, may the storms, sweeping wild,Pass over them gently—the father and child.

“May the bleak Norland winter—that night of despair—

Leave the bloom in her cheek and the gold in her hair,

And the light in her eye, as bright as the blue

Of the sky in the summer, the clouds breaking through.

Those round her she loves, may the storms, sweeping wild,

Pass over them gently—the father and child.

“A bumper! The ladies inHvalfiskensbrig;Another! Her captain, that sailor so trig:To the governor too, his frau and his Fred;Toalla good-night on their wave-rockéd bed;To the brig a good voyage. Hip! hip! and hurra!The last cup is drained, and—there’s no more to say.”

“A bumper! The ladies inHvalfiskensbrig;

Another! Her captain, that sailor so trig:

To the governor too, his frau and his Fred;

Toalla good-night on their wave-rockéd bed;

To the brig a good voyage. Hip! hip! and hurra!

The last cup is drained, and—there’s no more to say.”

THE END.

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Transcriber’s Notes:Blank pages have been removed.Silently corrected typographical errors.Spelling and hyphenation variations made consistent.Page 139 “parient” assumed to be a typo, changed to “parent”.

Transcriber’s Notes:

Blank pages have been removed.

Silently corrected typographical errors.

Spelling and hyphenation variations made consistent.

Page 139 “parient” assumed to be a typo, changed to “parent”.

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