The temperature remained at 57° during July 3d and 4th; this was the highest temperature observed. But on Thursday, the 5th, the wind shifted to the southeast, with violent snow-squalls. The thermometer fell twenty-three degrees in the preceding night. Hatteras, indifferent to the hostility of the crew, gave the order to set sail. For thirteen days, ever since passing Cape Dundas, theForwardhad not gone a single degree farther north; hence the party represented by Clifton was dissatisfied; their wishes, it is true, coincided with those of the captain, namely, that they should make their way through Wellington Channel, and they were all glad to be off once more.
It was with difficulty that sail was set; but having in the course of the night run up the mainsail and topsails, Hatteras plunged boldly into the ice, which the current was driving towards the south. The crew became very tired of this tortuous navigation, which kept them very busy with the sails.
Wellington Channel is not very broad; it lies between North Devon on the east and Cornwallis Island on the west; for a long time this island was considered a peninsula. It was Sir John Franklin who circumnavigated it, in 1846, from the western side, going about its northern coast.
The exploration of Wellington Channel was made in 1851, by Captain Penny, in the whale-shipsLady FranklinandSophia;one of his lieutenants, Stewart, who reached Cape Beechey, latitude 76° 20', discovered the open sea. The open sea! It was for that Hatteras longed.
"What Stewart found, I shall find," he said to the doctor; "and I shall be able to get to the Pole under sail."
"But," answered the doctor, "don't you fear lest the crew—"
"The crew!" said Hatteras, coldly.
Then in a lower tone he murmured,—
"Poor men!" much to the doctor's surprise.
It was the first sentiment of this sort which he had ever noticed in the captain.
"No," he went on warmly, "they must follow me, and they shall."
Still, if theForwardneed not fear collision with the ice-streams, she made but little way northward, being much delayed by contrary winds. With some difficulty they got by Capes Spencer and Innis, and Tuesday, the 10th, latitude 75° was at last reached, much to Clifton's joy.
TheForwardwas now at the very spot where the American ships, theRescueand theAdvance, commanded by Captain Haven, ran such terrible dangers. Dr. Kane accompanied this expedition; towards the end of September, 1850, these ships were caught in the ice, and carried with irresistible force into Lancaster Sound.
Shandon told James Wall about it in the presence of some of the men.
"TheAdvanceand theRescue," he said, "were so tossed about by ice, that they could keep no fires on board; and yet the thermometer stood at 18° below zero. During the whole winter the crews were kept imprisoned, ready to abandon their ships, and for three weeks they did not take off their clothes! It was a terrible situation; after drifting a thousand miles, they were driven to the middle of Baffin's Bay!"
One may easily judge of the effect of such a narration on a crew already discontented.
While this conversation was going on, Johnson was talking with the doctor about an event which had taken place here; the doctor, at his request, told him the exact moment when the brig reached latitude 75° 30'.
"There it is! there it is!" said Johnson, "there is that unlucky land!"
And so speaking, tears came into the boatswain's eyes.
"You mean Lieutenant Bellot's death," said the doctor.
"Yes, sir, of that brave, good man!"
"And it was here, you say, that it took place?"
"Just here, on this part of the coast of North Devon. It was very great ill-luck, and this would not have happened if Captain Pullen had come on board sooner."
"What do you mean, Johnson?"
"Listen, Doctor, and you will see by how slight a thread life is held. You know that Lieutenant Bellot had already made an expedition in search of Franklin, in 1850?"*
"Yes; in thePrince Albert."
"Well, in 1853, having returned to France, he got permission to sail in thePhoenix, in which I was a sailor, under Captain Inglefield. We came with theBreadalbaneto carry supplies to Beechey Island."
"Those which we did not find!"
"Exactly, Doctor. We arrived at Beechey Island at the beginning of August; the 10th of that month, Captain Inglefield left thePhoenixto rejoin Captain Pullen, who had been away for a month from his ship, theNorth Star. He intended on his return to send the Admiralty despatches to Sir Edward Belcher, who was wintering in Wellington Channel. Now, shortly after our captain's departure, Captain Pullen reached his ship. If he had only come back before Captain Inglefield had left! Lieutenant Bellot, fearing that our captain's absence might be a long one, and knowing that the Admiralty despatches were important, offered to carry them himself. He left the two ships under Captain Pullen's charge, and left August 12, with a sledge and an india-rubber canoe. He took with him Harvey, quartermaster of theNorth Star, and three sailors, Madden, David Hook, and me. We thought that Sir Edward Belcher would be somewhere near Cape Beecher, at the northern part of the channel; hence we made for that part in our sledge, keeping on the east bank. The first day we encamped three miles from Cape Innis; the next day we stopped on the ice nearly three miles from Cape Bowden. During the night, which was as bright as day, land being only three miles distant, Lieutenant Bellot determined to go and camp there; he tried to reach it in the canoe; a violent southeast breeze drove him back twice; Harvey and Madden tried in their turn, and with success; they carried a rope, and with it they established communication with the shore; three objects were carried across by it; but at the fourth attempt, we felt the ice moving away from us; Mr. Bellot shouted to his companions to loosen the rope, and we (the lieutenant, David Hook, and I) were carried to a great distance from the shore. Then a strong southeaster was blowing, and snow was falling. But we were not in any great danger, and he might have been saved, since the rest of us were saved."
Johnson stopped for a moment, and gazed at the ill-fated shore, then he went on:—
"After losing sight of our companions, we tried at first to shelter ourselves under the cover of our sledge, but in vain; then with our knives we began to cut a house in the ice. Mr. Bellot sat down for half an hour, and talked with us about the danger of our situation; I told him I was not afraid. 'With God's protection,' he said, 'not a hair of our heads shall be hurt.' I then asked him what time it was. He answered, 'About quarter past six.' It was quarter past six in the morning of Thursday, August 18th. Then Mr. Bellot bound on his books, and said he wanted to go and see how the ice was moving; he was gone only four minutes, when I went to seek him behind the floe which sheltered us; but I did not find him, and, returning to our retreat, I saw his stick on the opposite side of a crevasse about three fathoms wide, where the ice was all broken. I shouted, but there was no answer. At that time the wind was blowing very hard. I searched all around, but I could find no trace of the poor lieutenant."
"And what do you suppose became of him?" asked the doctor, who was much moved by this account.
"I suppose that when he left the shelter, the wind drove him into the crevasse, and that, being thickly clad, he could not swim to the surface. O Dr. Clawbonny, I never felt worse in my life! I could not believe it! That brave officer fell a victim to his sense of duty! For you know that it was in order to obey Captain Pullen's instructions that he was trying to reach the land before the ice began to break! He was a brave man, liked by every one, faithful, courageous! All England mourned him, and even the Esquimaux, when they heard of his death from Captain Inglefield, when he returned from Pound Bay, did nothing but weep and repeat, 'Poor Bellot! Poor Bellot!'"
"But you and your companions, Johnson," asked the doctor, much moved by this touching account,—"how did you manage to get to shore?"
"O, it was very simple! We remained twenty-four hours on the ice without food or fire, but finally we reached a firmly fastened ice-field; we sprang upon it, and with an oar we got near a floe capable of supporting us, and being controlled like a boat. In that way we reached the shore, but alone, without our brave officer."
At the end of this account theForwardhad passed by this fatal shore, and Johnson soon lost sight of the scene of this terrible catastrophe. The next day they left Griffin's Bay on the starboard, and two days later, Capes Grinnell and Helpman; finally, July 14th, they doubled Osborne Point, and the 15th the brig anchored in Baring Bay at the end of the channel. The navigation had not been very difficult; Hatteras found a sea nearly as free as that by which Belcher profited to go and winter with thePioneerandAssistancein latitude 77°. That was his first winter, 1852-53, for the next he spent in Baring Bay, where theForwardnow lay at anchor.
It was in consequence of the most terrible dangers and trials that he was obliged to abandon theAssistancein the midst of the eternal ice.
Shandon gave a full account of this catastrophe to the demoralized sailors. Was Hatteras aware of the treachery of his first officer? It is impossible to say, but, at any rate, he said nothing about it.
At the end of Baring Bay is a narrow canal uniting Wellington Channel with Queen's Strait. There the ice had accumulated very closely. Hatteras made vain efforts to get through the passages to the north of Hamilton Island; the wind was unfavorable; hence it was necessary to go between Hamilton and Cornwallis Islands; five precious days were lost in vain attempts. The air grew colder, and, July 19th, fell as low as 26°; the next day was warmer, but this harbinger of the arctic winter warned Hatteras not to linger longer. The wind seemed to blow steadily from the west and delayed his progress. And yet he was in haste to reach the point whence Stewart saw an open sea. The 19th he resolved to enter the channel at any price; the wind blew dead against the brig, which, with her screw, could have made headway against the violent snow-squalls, but Hatteras had before all to be economical with the fuel; on the other hand, the channel was too broad to permit of the brig being towed. Hatteras, without taking into account the fatigue of his crew, made use of a device which whalers often employ under similar circumstances. He lowered the small boats to the surface of the water, not letting them free from their tackle; then they were made fast, fore and aft; oars were put out, to starboard on one side and to port on the other; the men sat on the thwarts and rowed vigorously, so as to propel the brig against the wind.
TheForwardmade slight headway; this method of working was very fatiguing; the men began to murmur. For four days they advanced in that way, until July 23d, when they reached Baring Island, in Queen's Channel.
The wind was still unfavorable. The crew could go no farther. The doctor found the strength of the crew much pulled down, and he thought he detected the first symptoms of scurvy; he used every precaution against this terrible disease, having abundant supplies of lime-juice and chalk-pastilles.
Hatteras soon saw there was nothing more to be got from his crew; kindness and persuasion were fruitless; he resolved to employ severity, and, if need be, to be pitiless; he distrusted especially Richard Shandon, and even James Wall, who, however, never dared to speak too loud. Hatteras had on his side the doctor, Johnson, Bell, and Simpson; these were all devoted to him body and soul. Among the uncertain were Foker, Bolton, Wolston, the gunner, Brunton, the first engineer, who might at any moment declare against him. As to the others, Pen, Gripper, Clifton, and Warren, they openly meditated mutiny; they wanted to bring their companions over and compel theForwardto return to England.
Hatteras soon saw that he could get no more work from his dispirited crew, who now were worn out with fatigue from their hard work. For twenty-four hours they remained in sight of Baring Island without getting a foot forward. Still the weather grew colder, and in these high latitudes even July felt the influence of the approaching winter. The 24th, the thermometer fell to 22°. The young ice formed during the night to a depth of about half an inch; if snow should fall on it, it would soon be strong enough to bear the weight of a man. The sea soon acquired the turbid tint which indicates the formation of the first crystals.
Hatteras read aright these alarming signs; if the passes should close, he would be obliged to winter here, far from the aim of his voyage, and without even having seen that open sea which he must have got very near, according to the accounts of his predecessors. Hence he resolved to get on at any price a few degrees farther north; seeing that he could neither try rowing with his crew exhausted, nor going under sail with the wind always unfavorable, he ordered the fires to be lighted.
At this unexpected command, the surprise on board of theForwardwas very great.
"Light the fires!" said some.
"With what?" said others.
"When we have only two months' supply in the hold!" cried Pen.
"And how are we to keep warm in the winter?" asked Clifton.
"We shall have to burn the ship down to the water-line, I suppose," said Gripper.
"And cram all the masts into the stove," answered Warren, "from the foretopmast to the jib-boom."
Shandon gazed intently at Wall. The surprised engineers hesitated to go down into the engine-room.
"Did you hear what I said?" shouted the captain, angrily.
Brunton walked toward the hatchway; but he stopped before going down.
"Don't go, Brunton," some one said.
"Who spoke then?" shouted Hatteras.
"I did," said Pen, approaching the captain.
"And what is it you're saying?" asked the captain.
"I say—I say," answered Pen with many oaths,—"I say that we have had enough of this, that we are not going any farther, that we don't want to wear ourselves out with fatigue and cold during the winter, and that the fires shall not be lighted."
"Mr. Shandon," answered Hatteras, coldly, "have this man put in irons."
"But, Captain," said Shandon, "what this man said—"
"If you repeat what this man said," retorted Hatteras, "I shall order you to your cabin and confine you there. Seize that man! Do you hear?"
Johnson, Bell, and Simpson stepped towards the sailor, who was beside himself with wrath.
"The first man who lays a finger on me—" he cried, seizing a handspike, which he flourished about his head.
Hatteras walked towards him.
"Pen," he said very quietly, "if you move hand or foot, I shall blow your brains out!"
With these words he drew a revolver and aimed it at the sailor.
A murmur arose from the crew.
"Not a word from any of you," said Hatteras, "or he's a dead man."
At that moment Johnson and Bell disarmed Pen, who no longer resisted, and suffered himself to be led to the bottom of the hold.
"Now go below, Brunton," said Hatteras.
The engineer, followed by Plover and Warren, went below. Hatteras returned to the quarter-deck.
"That Pen is a worthless fellow," the doctor said to him.
"No man was ever nearer death," answered the captain, simply.
Soon there was enough steam on; the anchors of theForwardwere raised; and the brig started eastward, heading for Point Beecher, and cutting through the newly formed ice.
A great number of islands lie between Baring Island and Point Beecher, scattered in the midst of the ice-fields; the ice-streams crowd in great numbers in the little straits into which they divide the sea; when the weather is cold they have a tendency to accumulate; here and there hummocks were forming, and it was easy to see that the floes, already harder and more crowded, would, under the influence of the first frosts, soon form an impenetrable mass.
It was with great difficulty that theForwardmade her way through the whirling snow. Still, with the variability which is a peculiarity of these regions, the sun would appear from time to time; the air grew much milder; the ice melted as if by enchantment, and a clear expanse of water, a most welcome sight to the eyes of the crew, spread out before them where a few moments before the ice had blocked their progress. All over the horizon there spread magnificent orange tints, which rested their eyes, weary with gazing at the eternal snow.
Thursday, July 26th, theForwardcoasted along Dundas Island, and then stood more northward; but there she found herself face to face with a thick mass of ice, eight or nine feet high, consisting of little icebergs washed away from the shore; they had to prolong the curve they were making to the west. The continual cracking of the ice, joining with the creaking of the rolling ship, sounded like a gloomy lamentation. At last the brig found a passage and advanced through it slowly; often a huge floe delayed her for hours; the fog embarrassed the steersman; at one moment he could see a mile ahead, and it was easy to avoid all obstacles; but again the snow-squalls would hide everything from their sight at the distance of a cable's length. The sea ran very high.
Sometimes the smooth clouds assumed a strange appearance, as if they were reflecting the ice-banks; there were days when the sun could not pierce the dense mist.
The birds were still very numerous, and their cries were deafening; the seals, lying lazily on the drifting ice, raised their heads without being frightened, and turned their long necks to watch the ship go by. Often, too, the brig would leave bits of sheathing on the ice against which she grazed.
Finally, after six days of this slow sailing, August 1st, Point Beecher was made, sighted in the north; Hatteras passed the last hours in the lookout; the open sea, which Stewart had seen May 30, 1851, towards latitude 76° 20', could not be far off, and yet, as far as Hatteras could see, he could make out no sign of an open polar sea. He came down without saying a word.
"Do you believe in an open sea?" asked Shandon of the second mate.
"I'm beginning to have my doubts," answered James Wall.
"Wasn't I right in considering this pretended discovery as a mere hypothesis? No one agreed with me, and you too, Wall,—you sided against me."
"They'll believe you next time, Shandon."
"Yes," he answered, "when it's too late."
And he returned to his cabin, where he had kept himself almost exclusively since his discussion with the captain.
Towards evening the wind shifted to the south. Hatteras then set his sails and had the fires put out; for many days the crew were kept hard at work; every few minutes they had to tack or bear away, or to shorten sail quickly to stop the course of the brig; the braces could not run easily through the choked-up pulleys, and added to the fatigue of the crew; more than a week was required for them to reach Point Barrow. TheForwardhad not made thirty miles in ten days.
Then the wind flew around to the north, and the engine was started once more. Hatteras still hoped to find an open sea beyond latitude 77°, such as Edward Belcher had seen.
And yet, if he believed in Penny's account, the part of the sea which he was now crossing ought to have been open; for Penny, having reached the limit of the ice, saw in a canoe the shores of Queen's Channel at latitude 77°.
Must he regard their reports as apochryphal, or had an unusually early winter fallen upon these regions?
August 15th, Mount Percy reared into the mist its peaks covered with eternal snow; a violent wind was hurling in their teeth a fierce shower of hail. The next day the sun set for the first time, terminating at last the long series of days twenty-four hours long. The men had finally accustomed themselves to this perpetual daylight; but the animals minded it very little; the Greenland dogs used to go to sleep at the usual hour, and even Duke lay down at the same hour every evening, as if the night were dark.
Still, during the nights following August 16th the darkness was never very marked; the sun, although it had set, still gave light enough by refraction.
August 19th, after taking a satisfactory observation, Cape Franklin was seen on the eastern side, and opposite it Cape Lady Franklin; at what was probably the farthest point reached by this bold explorer, his fellow-countrymen wanted the name of his devoted wife should be remembered along with his own, as an emblem of the sympathy which always united them. The doctor was much moved by this sight in this distant country.
In accordance with Johnson's advice, he began to accustom himself to enduring low temperature; he kept almost all the time on deck, braving the cold, wind, and snow. Although he had grown a little thinner, he did not suffer from the severity of the climate. Besides, he expected other dangers, and he rejoiced, almost, as he saw the winter approaching.
"See," said he one day to Johnson,—"see those flocks of birds flying south! How they fly and cry adieu!"
"Yes, Dr. Clawbonny," answered Johnson, "something has told them it was time to go, and they are off."
"More than one of our men, Johnson, would be glad to imitate them, I fancy."
"They are timid fellows, Doctor; what a bird can't do, a man ought to try! Those birds have no supply of food, as we have, and they must support themselves elsewhere. But sailors, with a good deck under the feet, ought to go to the end of the world."
"You hope, then, that Hatteras will succeed in his projects?"
"He will succeed, Doctor."
"I agree with you, Johnson, even if only one faithful man accompanies him—"
"There will be two of us!"
"Yes, Johnson," the doctor answered, pressing the brave sailor's hand.
Prince Albert's Land, along which theForwardwas now coasting, is also called Grinnell's Land; and although Hatteras, from his dislike to Americans, never was willing to give it this name, nevertheless, it is the one by which it is generally known. This is the reason of this double title: at the same time that the Englishman Penny gave it the name of Prince Albert, the captain of theRescue, Lieutenant DeHaven, named it Grinnell's Land, in honor of the American merchant who had fitted out the expedition in New York.
As the brig followed the coast it met with serious difficulties, going sometimes under sail, sometimes under steam. August 18th, Mount Britannia was sighted through the mist, and the next day theForwardcast anchor in Northumberland Bay. The ship was completely protected.
Hatteras, after seeing to the anchorage of the ship, returned to his cabin, took out his chart, and marked his position on it very carefully; he found himself in latitude 76° 57', and longitude 99° 20', that is to say, only three minutes from latitude 77°. It was here that Sir Edward Belcher passed his first winter with thePioneerandAssistance. It was from here that he organized his sledge and canoe expeditions; he discovered Table Island, North Cornwall, Victoria Archipelago, and Belcher Channel. Having gone beyond latitude 78°, he saw the coast inclining towards the southeast. It seemed as if it ought to connect with Jones's Strait, which opens into Baffin's Bay. But, says the report, an open sea, in the northwest, "stretched as far as the eye could reach."
Hatteras gazed with emotion at that portion of the charts where a large white space marked unknown regions, and his eyes always returned to the open polar sea.
"After so many statements," he said to himself,—"after the accounts of Stewart, Penny, and Belcher, doubt is impossible! These bold sailors saw, and with their own eyes! Can I doubt their word? No! But yet if this sea is closed by an early winter— But no, these discoveries have been made at intervals of several years; this sea exists, and I shall find it! I shall see it!"
Hatteras went upon the quarter-deck. A dense mist enveloped theForward;from the deck one could hardly see the top of the mast. Nevertheless, Hatteras ordered the ice-master below, and took his place; he wanted to make use of the first break in the fog to look at the horizon in the northwest.
Shandon took occasion to say to the second mate,—
"Well, Wall, and the open sea?"
"You were right, Shandon," answered Wall, "and we have only six weeks' coal in the bunkers."
"The doctor will invent some scientific way," continued Shandon, "of heating us without fuel. I've heard of making ice with fire; perhaps he will make fire with ice."
Shandon returned to his cabin, shrugging his shoulders.
The next day, August 20th, the fog lifted for a few minutes. From the deck they saw Hatteras in his lofty perch gazing intently towards the horizon; then he came down without saying a word and ordered them to set sail; but it was easy to see that his hopes had been once more deceived.
TheForwardheaved anchor and resumed her uncertain path northward. So wearisome was it that the main-topsail and fore-topsail yards were lowered with all their rigging; the masts were also lowered, and it was no longer possible to place any reliance on the varying wind, which, moreover, the winding nature of the passes made almost useless; large white masses were gathering here and there in the sea, like spots of oil; they indicated an approaching thaw;*as soon as the wind began to slacken, the sea began to freeze again, but when the wind arose this young ice would break and disperse. Towards evening the thermometer fell to 17°.
When the brig arrived at the end of a closed pass, it rushed on at full steam against the opposing obstacle. Sometimes they thought her fairly stopped; but some unexpected motion of the ice-streams would open a new passage into which she would plunge boldly; during these stoppages the steam would escape from the safety-valves and fall on the deck in the form of snow. There was another obstacle to the progress of the brig; the ice would get caught in the screw, and it was so hard that the engine could not break it; it was then necessary to reverse the engines, turn the brig back, and send some men to free the snow with axes and levers; hence arose many difficulties, fatigues, and delays.
It went on in this way for thirteen days; theForwardadvanced slowly through Penny Strait. The crew murmured, but obeyed; they knew that retreat was now impossible. The advance towards the north was less perilous than a return to the south; it was time to think of going into winter-quarters.
The sailors talked together about their condition, and one day they even began to talk with Shandon, who, they knew, was on their side. He so far forgot his duty as an officer as to allow them to discuss in his presence the authority of his captain.
"So you say, Mr. Shandon," asked Gripper, "that we can't go back now?"
"No, it's too late," answered Shandon.
"Then," said another sailor, "we need only look forward to going into winter-quarters?"
"It's our only resource! No one would believe me—"
"The next time," said Pen, who had returned to duty, "they will believe you."
"Since I sha'n't be in command—" answered Shandon.
"Who can tell?" remarked Pen. "John Hatteras is free to go as far as he chooses, but no one is obliged to follow him."
"Just remember," resumed Gripper, "his first voyage to Baffin's Bay and what came of it!"
"And the voyage of theFarewell," said Clifton, "which was lost in the Spitzenberg seas under his command."
"And from which he came back alone," added Gripper.
"Alone, but with his dog," said Clifton.
"We don't care to sacrifice ourselves for the whims of that man," continued Pen.
"Nor to lose all the wages we've earned so hard."
They all recognized Clifton by those words.
"When we pass latitude 78°," he added, "and we are not far from it, that will make just three hundred and seventy-five pounds for each man, six times eight degrees."
"But," asked Gripper, "sha'n't we lose them if we go back without the captain?"
"No," answered Clifton, "if we can prove that it was absolutely necessary to return."
"But the captain—still—"
"Don't be uneasy, Gripper," answered Pen; "we shall have a captain, and a good one, whom Mr. Shandon knows. When a captain goes mad, he is dismissed and another appointed. Isn't that so, Mr. Shandon?"
"My friends," answered Shandon, evasively, "you will always find me devoted to you. But let us wait and see what turns up."
The storm, as may be seen, was gathering over Hatteras's head; but he pushed on boldly, firm, energetic, and confident. In fact, if he had not always managed the brig as he wanted to, and carried her where he was anxious to go, he had still been very successful; the distance passed over in five months was as great as what it had taken other explorers two or three years to make. Hatteras was now obliged to go into winter-quarters, but this would not alarm men of courage, experience, and confidence. Had not Sir John Ross and MacClure spent three successive winters in the arctic regions? Could not he do what they had done?
"Yes, of course," Hatteras used to say, "and more too, if need be. Ah!" he said regretfully to the doctor, "why was I unable to get through Smith's Sound, at the north of Baffin's Bay? I should be at the Pole now!"
"Well," the doctor used invariably to answer,—if necessary he could have invented confidence,—"we shall get there, Captain, but, it is true, at the ninety-ninth meridian instead of the seventy-fifth; but what difference does that make? If every road leads to Rome, it is even surer that every meridian leads to the Pole."
August 31st, the thermometer fell to 13°. The end of the summer was evidently near; theForwardleft Exmouth Island to starboard, and three days afterward she passed Table Island, lying in the middle of Belcher Channel. Earlier in the season it would have been possible to reach Baffin's Bay through this channel, but at this time it was impossible to think of it. This arm of the sea was completely filled with ice, and would not have offered a drop of open water to the prow of theForward;for the next eight months their eyes would see nothing but boundless, motionless ice-fields.
Fortunately, they could still get a few minutes farther north, but only by breaking the new ice with huge beams, or by blowing it up with charges of powder. They especially had cause to fear calm weather while the temperature was so low, for the passes closed quickly, and they rejoiced even at contrary winds. A calm night, and everything was frozen!
Now theForwardcould not winter where she was, exposed to the wind, icebergs, and the drift of the channel; a safe protection was the first thing to be found; Hatteras hoped to gain the coast of New Cornwall, and to find, beyond Point Albert, a bay sufficiently sheltered. Hence he persisted in crowding northward.
But, September 8, an impenetrable, continuous mass of ice lay between him and the north; the temperature fell to 10°. Hatteras, with an anxious heart, in vain sought for a passage, risking his ship a hundred times and escaping from his perils with wonderful skill. He might have been accused of imprudence, recklessness, folly, blindness, but he was one of the best of sailors.
The situation of theForwardbecame really dangerous; in fact, the sea was closing behind her, and in a few hours the ice grew so hard that men could run upon it and tow the brig in perfect safety.
Hatteras, not being able to get around this obstacle, determined to attack it boldly in front. He made use of his strongest blasting cylinders, containing eight or ten pounds of powder. The men would dig a hole in the broadest part of the ice, close the orifice with snow, after having placed the cylinder in a horizontal position, so that a greater extent of ice might be exposed to the explosion; then a fuse was lighted, which was protected by a gutta-percha tube.
In this way they tried to break the ice; it was impossible to saw it, for the fissures would close immediately. Still, Hatteras was hoping to get through the next day.
But during the night the wind blew a gale; the sea raised the crust of ice, and the terrified pilot was heard shouting,—
"Look out there aft, look out there aft!"
Hatteras turned his eyes in that direction, and what he saw in the dim light was indeed alarming.
A great mass of ice, drifting northward with the tide, was rushing towards the brig with the speed of an avalanche.
"All hands on deck!" shouted the captain.
This floating mountain was hardly half a mile away; the ice was all in confusion and crashing together like huge grains of sand before a violent tempest; the air was filled with a terrible noise.
"That, Doctor," said Johnson, "is one of the greatest perils we have yet met with."
"Yes," answered the doctor, quietly; "it is terrible enough."
"A real attack which we must repel," resumed the boatswain.
"In fact, one might well think it was an immense crowd of antediluvian animals, such as might have lived near the Pole. How they hurry on, as if they were racing!"
"Besides," added Johnson, "some carry sharp lances, of which you had better take care, Doctor."
"It's a real siege," shouted the doctor. "Well, let us run to the ramparts!"
He ran aft where the crew, provided with beams and bars, were standing ready to repel this formidable assault.
The avalanche came on, growing larger at every moment as it caught up the floating ice in its eddy; by Hatteras's orders the cannon was loaded with ball to break the threatening line. But it came on and ran towards the brig; a crash was heard, and as it came against the starboard-quarter, part of the rail had given way.
"Let no one stir!" shouted Hatteras. "Look out for the ice!"
They swarmed on board the ship with an irresistible force; lumps of ice, weighing many hundredweight, scaled the sides of the ship; the smallest, hurled as high as the yards, fell back in sharp arrows, breaking the shrouds and cutting the rigging. The men were overcome by numberless enemies, who were heavy enough to crush a hundred ships like theForward. Every one tried to drive away these lumps, and more than one sailor was wounded by their sharp ends; among others, Bolton, who had his left shoulder badly torn. The noise increased immensely. Duke barked angrily at these new enemies. The darkness of the night added to the horrors of the situation, without hiding the ice which glowed in the last light of the evening.
Hatteras's orders sounded above all this strange, impossible, supernatural conflict of the men with the ice. The ship, yielding to this enormous pressure, inclined to larboard, and the end of the main-yard was already touching the ice, at the risk of breaking the mast.
Hatteras saw the danger; it was a terrible moment; the brig seemed about to be overturned, and the masts might be easily carried away.
A large block, as large as the ship, appeared to be passing along the keel; it arose with irresistible power; it came on past the quarter-deck; if it fell on theForward, all was over; soon it rose even above the topmasts, and began to totter.
A cry of terror escaped from every one's lips. Every one ran back to starboard.
But at that moment the ship was relieved. They felt her lifted up, and for an instant she hung in the air, then she leaned over and fell back on the ice, and then she rolled so heavily that her planks cracked. What had happened?
Raised by this rising tide, driven by the ice which attacked her aft, she was getting across this impenetrable ice. After a minute of this strange sailing, which seemed as long as a century, she fell back on the other side of the obstacle on a field of ice; she broke it with her weight, and fell back into her natural element.
"We have got by the thick ice!" shouted Johnson, who had run forward.
"Thank God!" said Hatteras.
In fact, the brig lay in the centre of a basin of ice, which entirely surrounded her, and although her keel lay under water she could not stir; but if she were motionless, the field was drifting along.
"We are drifting, Captain!" shouted Johnson.
"All right," answered Hatteras.
Indeed, how was it possible to resist it?
Day broke, and it was evident that under the influence of a submarine current the bank of ice was floating northward with great rapidity. This floating mass carried theForwardwith it, in the midst of the ice-field, the edge of which could not be seen; to provide for any accident that might happen, Hatteras had a large supply of provisions carried on deck, as well as materials for camping, clothing, and cover; as MacClure had done under similar circumstances, he surrounded the ship with hammocks filled with air to protect her from damage. Soon it was so cold (7°), that the ship was surrounded by a wall from which only the masts issued.
For seven days they sailed in this way; Point Albert, which forms the western extremity of New Cornwall, was seen September 10th, and soon disappeared; the ice-field was seen to be drifting eastward from that time. Where was it going? Where would it stop? Who could say?
The crew waited with folded arms. At last, September 15th, towards three o'clock in the afternoon, the ice-field, having probably run against another one, stopped suddenly; the ship was jarred violently; Hatteras, who had kept his reckoning all along, looked at his chart; he found himself in the north, with no land in sight, in longitude 95° 35', and latitude 78° 15', in the centre of the region of the unknown sea, which geographers have considered the place of greatest cold.