CHAPTER XXXI
THE RESCUE FROM WRANGELL ISLAND
On August 30, at half past seven in the evening, we anchored off Nome. Early the next morning a lighter came alongside with coal but a fresh south-west wind sprang up while we were loading and we had to put to sea, leaving about five tons of coal still aboard the lighter. By eleven o’clock the wind had moderated and we were able to come back to our anchorage again. I paid a call on Mr. Linderberg, who was financially interested in the company supplying us with coal, and he took pains to see that things were pushed forward as fast as possible. Just before dark another gale sprang up and we were forced to put to sea again. By noon the next day, September 2, it was safe for us to return and the lighter was soon alongside. We finished with her by four o’clock the next morning but on account of the fact that in the blow several lighters loaded with coal had been driven aground on the beach and the mail-boatVictoria, from Seattle, also had to discharge freight and needed lighters, there was no other lighter of coal to take the place of the one with which we had just finished.
I had luncheon with Mr. Linderberg. He was well aware of my extreme uneasiness about the continued delay and told me that he had decided to send theCorwinto Wrangell Island after the men; she had formerly been in the revenue cutter service and, as I have already noted, had made an interesting trip to Wrangell in the early eighties. While ashore to see Mr. Linderberg I ran across Mr. Swenson, of theKing and Winge, in Mr. Goggin’s store, a great rendezvous in Nome, and learned from him that he was about to start for the Siberian coast on a trading and walrus-hunting trip. I asked him, if he went anywhere near Wrangell Island, to call and see if the men had been taken off and he promised that he would do so. I sent a telegram to Ottawa to let the authorities know that theCorwinwas going to try to reach the island and that theKing and Wingewould be in that vicinity, too, and would call there if she could.
TheBearfinished her coaling at nine o’clock on the morning of the fourth and then had to spend the next few hours taking on water. At one o’clock an onshore wind sprang up and I went off to the ship. We got away at ten minutes past two but spent all the next day at Port Clarence, looking for water. I was feeling easier in my mind now because I felt sure that Mr. Swenson would gostraight to the island, whether theBearever got there or not.
Daylight on the sixth found us off Cape York. We were going along with a fair wind and all sail set. Early in the afternoon we rounded East Cape; so far we were doing well. The wind came dead ahead in the late afternoon. By dark we were abreast of Cape Serdze. The next morning the wind was north-northwest and the sea smooth, a thing which told us clearly that the ice was near. All day long conditions remained the same and at quarter of eight in the evening we were not surprised to see the ice. We were 131 miles from Rodgers Harbor. We lay near the edge of the ice and waited for daylight.
As soon as dawn broke September 8, we went on full speed ahead, through the loose ice; some distance away, on our port bow, we could see that the ice was close-packed. By early afternoon we had made more than fifty miles and were about seventy-five miles from our goal. Luncheon was just finished and I was standing in the chart-room, when we saw a schooner dead ahead, running before the wind. The glasses were soon trained on her and we saw that she was theKing and Winge. I hoped and was inclined to believe that she had been to the island, or she would hardly be comingback so soon. Then I began to fear that perhaps she had broken her propeller and was now taking advantage of the favoring wind to put for Bering Strait and Alaska.
I watched her as she drew nearer and nearer; then she hove to and we were soon alongside. I looked sharply at the men on her deck; her own crew was fairly large, but soon I could pick out Munro and McKinlay and Chafe, and of course the Eskimo family, and I knew that our quest was over. A boat was lowered from theBear, with Lieutenant Miller in charge; I obtained permission from the captain to go along and was soon on board theKing and Winge, among theKarlukparty.
“All of you here?” was my first question.
McKinlay was the spokesman. “No,” he answered; “Malloch and Mamen and Breddy died on the island.”
There was nothing to be said. I had not really expected to see the mate’s party or the Mackay party, for I had long since ceased to believe that there was any reasonable chance that they could have got through to a safe place, but though it was hard to be forced to what appeared the inevitable conclusion in their case, it was an especially sad and bitter blow to learn that three of the men whom I had seen arrive at Wrangell Island had thus reached safety only to die.