CHAPTER XXIX.

THE MAIN PARTY SENT BACK.—PLUNGING INTO THE HUMMOCKS AGAIN.—ADVANTAGES OF DOGS.—CAMP IN AN ICE-CAVE.—NURSING THE DOGS.—SNOW-BLINDNESS.—A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS.—CAPE HAWKS.—CAPE NAPOLEON.—STORM STAYED.—GRINNELL LAND LOOMING UP.—DISCOVERING A SOUND.—RAVENOUS DISPOSITION OF DOGS.—A CHEERLESS SUPPER.—CAMPING IN THE OPEN AIR.—PROSTRATION OF MEN AND DOGS.—MAKING THE LAND AT LAST.

April 28th.

I sent the main party back this morning. The separation was quite affecting. They were the worst used-up body of men that I have ever chanced to see. I accompanied them for a short distance, and, with much sadness, parted from them and returned to camp. Upon looking around to see what progress they were making, I observed that they had halted and were facing toward us, evidently designing to give us three parting cheers. But the case was hopeless—there was not a squeak left in them. Soon after the party had gone, we plunged again into the hummocks. We had a terrible ridge to get over, and took only half the cargo, intending to return for the balance. Knorr's sledge broke down, and it was repaired with difficulty. Jensen's sledge tumbled over a declivity which we were descending, and injured a leg of one of the dogs. The poor animal was turned loose, and has hobbled along with us to camp. We made about a mile and a half, and then turned back for the balance of the stores.

CROSSING THE HUMMOCKS.(FROM A SKETCH BY DR. HAYES.)

CROSSING THE HUMMOCKS.

(FROM A SKETCH BY DR. HAYES.)

SNOW BLINDNESS.

This mile and a half has, by the tortuous route pursued, been prolonged into near four,—making, with the three times going over it, about twelve. I have not before had so bad a day; and yet the men could not possibly have brought their sledge through at all. The dogs climb the hummocks with the facility of the chamois mounting the Alpine crags. One advantage they possess is, that they are not so heavy as the men and do not so readily break through the crusted snow; and then, the sledges being smaller, are more easily managed. We have reached a most formidable ridge of hummocks which we were too much exhausted to scale; and have camped in a sort of cave made by the crowding over of some ice-tables, thus saving the labor of making a burrow; and it came most opportunely; for Jensen, owing to the uncertain footing, discarded his glasses, and is in consequence suffering from incipient snow-blindness, and would have been unable to assist in digging our usual nightly pit into a snow-drift. Our quarters are very tight and more than usually comfortable,—the temperature being up to within 10° of the freezing point, while, outside, it is 12° below zero.

We set out in the morning with much spirit, but are gloomy enough to-night. Such slow progress, with so much labor, is not inspiring. Sleep is our only consolation, and I am glad the temperature is sufficiently high to enable us to repose without freezing. Sleep, that has before drowned many a sorrow for many a weary and care-worn man, has drowned many a one of mine during these past twenty-five days. It is

"Tired Nature's sweet restorer,"

among these ice-deserts, even more than elsewhere; and our sleep is truly the "sleep of the laboringman." Foolish Sancho Panza! yet wise in thy folly! Mankind will long remember thee for thy sage reflection,—"Now blessings light on him that first invented sleep." I will cover myself all over with it, as thou didst; and, if I cannot find in it "heat for the cold," I will cloak with it for a few brief hours the recollection of my disappointed hopes.

April 29th.

Back again under our last night's shelter. The hummocks were much the same to-day as yesterday, and we made about the same progress—with, however, only half our stores. The load was left buried in the snow, and we returned for the balance; but, upon arriving here, the dogs were not able for the second trip. So here we are under our buffaloes once more in the ice-cave, seeking sleep. It is the best hut that I have ever had. The temperature of the air came up at noon to 4° above zero, and in the sun it was 38°. The thermometer hanging above my head in the cave now shows 31°.

April 30th.

CANINE FEROCITY.

It was all we could do to bring up the balance of our cargo to where we cached our load yesterday. I must not overtax the dogs; for, if they give out, I am done for. They are much fatigued to-night and must be nursed; so I directed Jensen to make them a warm supper of meat and potatoes and lard, and plenty of it. Nothing could exceed their ravenous hunger. The ferocity with which they tear into their food exceeds any thing that I have ever seen, and nothing escapes their sharp fangs. They eat up their harness if not closely watched, and we are obliged to bring every thing made of skin inside the hut. Several of the traces have disappeared down theirrapacious throats; and, with these swallowings and the breakings, we are now so badly off that we must fall back upon rope to replace the skin lines. To add to our embarrassments, Jensen forgot last night to cover over his sledge, (Knorr's makes the roof of our hut,) and when we went out in the morning, the sledge was torn to pieces, the lashings were all eaten, and the pieces of the sledge were scattered over the snow all around the camp.

I have nearly eight hundred pounds of dog food, but the daily drain is very great; and this, taken in connection with the slowness of our progress, looks unpromising.

May 1st.

THE COAST IN VIEW.

We found it impossible to get on to-day with even one half the cargo, and were therefore forced to make three parcels of it,—one of which I estimate that we have brought nine miles, as traveled, though probably not one third that distance in a straight line. It is impossible to describe the nature of the ice over which we have struggled. It is even worse than any thing we have encountered before. The run of to-day has brought the coast quite conspicuously in view. I am coming upon my old survey of 1854, and am not far from my return track at that time; but how different the condition of the ice! Then my principal difficulty was in the outward journey, due north from Van Rensselaer Harbor. Returning further down the Sound, near where we now are, the ice was found to be but little broken, and I crossed from shore to shore in two days.

I have now a much finer opportunity for observation than I had then, for there was on the former occasion much fog, and I was constantly snow-blind.The coast of Grinnell Land is clearly somewhat further north than I then placed it; for we are by my observation and reckoning, within ten miles of the shore, if the map is correct. The two bold capes to which Dr. Kane applied the names Bache and Henry (the Victoria Head and Cape Albert, of Captain Inglefield) appear to be large islands, in the mouth of a sound from thirty to forty miles wide. I reserve further judgment for further observation.

Two very conspicuous headlands appear upon the coast: one, lying almost due north, stands out with a dark front, presenting a mural face at least 1500 feet high. On my former journey I gave to it the name of Louis Napoleon, in honor of the remarkable man who, as Emperor of France, was then first beginning to exhibit to the world the greatness of his powers. It stands on the north side of a very conspicuous bay. More directly in our course and nearer to us is the other bold cape, to which Dr. Kane, on my return from the survey of this coast, appended my own name; but, since there was some confusion in the maps afterward between the names Hawks and Hayes, I have discarded the latter; and this immense rock, to which Gibraltar is a pigmy, will hereafter bear the name of Cape Hawks. The whole coast before us is very bold, and the mountain-peaks loom up loftily.

May 2d.

STORM-STAYED.

Storm-stayed in the camp of yesterday, and miserable enough. We came back in the morning for another load, and, when ready to return, it was blowing and drifting so hard from the north that we could not face it, and so were forced to seek shelter. The rest is much needed by the dogs, and this is my only satisfaction. Our camp fixtures were all left in thecamp of last night, and we have nothing to lie upon but the snow, which is only a shade softer than ice. Out of one of our provision tins we made a kettle, and of another a lamp, and so got some supper. Jensen is still partially snow-blind, and his sufferings have not diminished. This snow-blindness is simply an inflammation of the entire eye-ball, originating in the retina in consequence of the intense light produced by the glare of the sun reflected from the universal whiteness.

May 3d.

The storm detained us in our miserable den for twelve hours. The rest did the dogs good, and we have made the cheeriest day's work yet. But, as every rose has its thorn, so every day must have its drawback. Jensen, stumbling along with his bad eyes, got his leg into a crack and gave it a severe wrench. He tells me that the leg was broken two years ago; and the fracture having been oblique, and the parts allowed to overlap each other while healing, the union has been imperfect.

May 4th.

A FINE DAY'S RUN.

A fine day's run. We had some smooth ice, and got on briskly. Jensen's snow-blindness has disappeared, and our route having led us over old floes, his leg has not hurt him much and has improved. He is now digging a pit for our night shelter, and sings a Danish song as cheerily as the grave-digger in Hamlet. Knorr and McDonald are chopping up the cakes of desiccated beef for the dogs; and the wolfish brutes fill the air with the most hideous cries. The spectral pack of the wild Hartz huntsman never split the ear of belated traveler with more awful sounds than those which come from the throats of my wildbeasts at this present moment. The wretches would eat us up if we gave them the least chance. Knorr stumbled among the pack yesterday, while feeding them, and, had not McDonald pounced upon them on the instant, I believe they would have made a meal of him before he could rise.

THE "DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS."

The hour is exactly midnight, and, for the first time since starting, I write in the open air. The temperature is only one degree below zero, and a more beautiful sunshine never was beheld. This vast sea of whiteness, this great wilderness of glittering peaks, possesses a stern, quiet sublimity that is wonderfully imposing. The mountains before us, unlike those of the Greenland coast, stand up in multiplied lines of heaven-piercing cones, looking like giant stacks of cannon-balls, sprinkled with snow. The midnight sun streams over them from the north, and softens their outlines through tinted vapors which float from the eastward. Oh! that I was across the barrier that separates me from that land of my desires! Those mountains are my "delectable mountains,"—the fleecy clouds which rest upon them are the flocks of the "city" of my ambitious hopes—the mystic sea which I am seeking through these days of weariness and toil.

I have had some fine sights and excellent solar bearings from a position determined by solar altitude, and am now firmly convinced that a Sound opens westward from Smith Sound, overlooked by me in 1854; and that the whole coast of Grinnell Land was placed by me too far south.

May 5th.

A perfectly killing day, and I have little progress to record. Our affairs look rather blue. Jensencomplains again of his leg, and was unable to proceed further when we camped. He is groaning with the pain. Knorr sticks at the work with a tenacity and spirit most admirable. He has never once confessed fatigue; and yet, to-night, after the severe labors of the day in lifting the sledge, and the endless trouble and confusion with the dogs, when I asked him if he was tired and wanted to camp, his answer was a prompt, "No, sir." And yet, when we did camp and the work was done, I found him keeled over behind a hummock, where he had gone to conceal his prostration and faintness,—but there was no faintness of the spirit. McDonald never shows eagerness for the halt, but the labor is beginning to tell upon him. He has the true grit of the thorough-bred bull-dog, and holds to his work like a sleuth-hound to the scent.

A RAVENOUS PACK.

Let me finish my grievances. The dogs again show symptoms of exhaustion,—my own fault, however, in some measure, for I have watched with miserly care every ounce of food; and, last night, I gave to each animal only one and a half pounds. Result—as I have stated; and, besides, to revenge themselves, they broke into Jensen's sledge, which, owing to the fatigue of everybody, was not unlashed, but covered instead with three feet of snow. The brutes scattered every thing around, tried to tear open our tin meat-cans with their wolfish fangs, and ate up our extra boots, the last scrap of skin-line that was left, some fur stockings, and made an end of Knorr's seal-skin covered meerschaum pipe, which he had imprudently hung upon the upstander. Hemp lines now make the sledge lashings and traces, and, as a consequence, the sledges are continually tumbling to pieces and the traces are constantly breaking. Another dog toreopen a seal-skin tobacco-pouch, shook out its contents, and ate it; and another bolted our only piece of soap. This looks bad for our future cleanliness, but thirty-two days, at these low temperatures, have worn off the sharp edge of fastidiousness. At first we had always a morning wash with a handful of snow; but latterly we are not so particular, and we shall not grieve over the soap as much as we might have done some weeks ago.

Our provisions are disappearing with alarming rapidity; and yet, whenever I stint the dogs in the least, down they go. If the dogs fail me, then nothing can be done, and I am completely at fault. Two days more must surely bring us to land. We are making in for Cape Hawks, but we are compelled to own that the Cape grows from day to day very little bolder. The numerous baitings to rest the dogs, and the forced halts caused by the breaking of the sledges and traces, when I can do nothing to speed the start, give me fine opportunities for plotting the coast; and my "field-book" and "sketch-book" are both well used.

May 6th.

A COLD SUPPER.

A most miserable day's work brought to a most miserable end. McDonald spilled our smoking-hot supper on the snow; and, as we could not afford a second allowance of fuel (lard and rope-yarns), we were in as great danger of going to bed supperless as Baillie Nicol Jarvie, at the Clachan of Aberfoil, before the red-hot coulter brought the churly Highlanders to reason; but, luckily, McDonald managed, much to our satisfaction, to scrape up the greater part of the hash along with the snow, and we ate it cold. The coffee was, however, of course, irrecoverable, andwe are turning in cheerless enough in consequence. The temperature has tumbled down again to 10° below zero, and writing is not pleasant to the fingers when the thermometer behaves in this manner.

May 7th.

BROKEN SLEDGES.

Another edition of all the other days. We have made but little progress, to reward us for a most energetic day's labor, and are flat down with two broken sledges. Of one a runner is split, and Jensen declares that he has mended it so often that he can mend it no more; but a few hours' sleep will sharpen his wits, I hope. We are a rather lamentable-looking set of travelers. With too little energy to build a snow-hut, we have drawn the sledges together and are going to sleep on them, in the open air. The night is reasonably warm,—temperature above zero, and sleeping may be managed; but we miss the grateful warmth of the snow-hut. The truth is, that the labors of the day cause us to perspire as if we were in the tropics, and hence our clothing becomes wet through and through; the coat freezes stiff and solid as sheet-iron as soon as we halt, and we experience all over the uncomfortable sensation of "packing" in wet sheets at a water-cure.

May 8th.

Battling away as before. I felt sure that we would reach the land to-day, but it appears no nearer than when we set out this morning. Sledges, harness, dogs and men are all tumbling to pieces.

May 9th.

Still battling away; but, this time, through fog and snow, bedeviled all the day in a lifeless atmosphere, thick as the gloom of Hades.

May 10th.

At the same hopeless work again; and again we go into camp among the hummocks. I dare not hope that we will reach the shore to-morrow, for I have been so often disappointed; but the shorewillbe reached some time, if there is an ounce of food left or a dog left alive to drag it with. I have settled down into a sort of dogged determination.

May 11th.

In camp at last, close under the land; and as happy as men can be who have achieved success and await supper.

"CAPE FLY-AWAY."

As we rounded to in a convenient place for our camp, McDonald looked up at the tall Cape, which rose above our heads; and, as he turned away to get our furnace to prepare a much-needed meal, he was heard to grumble out in a serio-comic tone: "Well, I wonder if thatisland, or only 'Cape Fly-away,' after all?"

Head of the Esquimau Dog Oosisoak

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