The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras

CHAPTER XIX

A WHALE IN SIGHT

Melville Bay, although perfectly navigable, was not wholly free of ice; immense ice-fields could be seen stretching to the horizon; here and there appeared a few icebergs, but they stood motionless as if anchored in the ice. The Forward went under full steam through broad passes where she had plenty of sailing-room. The wind shifted frequently from one point of the compass to another.

The variability of the wind in the arctic seas is a remarkable fact, and very often only a few minutes intervene between a calm and a frightful tempest. This was Hatteras's experience on the 23d of June, in the middle of this huge bay.

The steadiest winds blow generally from the ice to the open sea, and are very cold. On that day the thermometer fell several degrees; the wind shifted to the southward, and the heavy gusts, having passed over the ice, discharged themselves of their dampness under the form of a thick snow. Hatteras immediately ordered the sails which were aiding the engine to be reefed; but before this could be done his main-topsail was carried away.

Hatteras gave his orders with the utmost coolness, and did not leave the deck during the storm; he was obliged to run before the gale. The wind raised very heavy waves which hurled about pieces of ice of every shape, torn from the neighboring ice-fields; the brig was tossed about like a child's toy, and ice was dashed against its hull; at one moment it rose perpendicularly to the top of a mountain of water; its steel prow shone like molten metal; then it sank into an abyss, sending forth great whirls of smoke, while the screw revolved out the water with a fearful clatter. Rain and snow fell in torrents.

The doctor could not miss such a chance to get wet to the skin; he remained on deck, gazing at the storm with all the admiration such a spectacle cannot fail to draw forth. One standing next to him could not have heard his voice; so he said nothing, but looked, and soon he saw a singular phenomenon, one peculiar to the northern seas.

The tempest was confined to a small space of about three or four miles; in fact, the wind loses much of its force in passing over the ice, and cannot carry its violence very far; every now and then the doctor would see, through some rift in the storm, a clear sky and a quiet sea beyond the ice-fields; hence the Forward had only to make her way through the passes to find smooth sailing; but she ran a risk of being dashed against the moving masses which obeyed the motion of the waves. Notwithstanding, Hatteras succeeded in a few hours in carrying his vessel into smooth water, while the violence of the storm, now at its worst at the horizon, was dying away within a few cable-lengths from the Forward.

Melville Bay then looked very different; by the influence of the winds and waves a large number of icebergs had been detached from the shores and were now floating northward, continually crashing against one another. They could be counted by hundreds; but the bay is very broad, and the brig avoided them without difficulty. The sight of these floating masses, which seemed to be racing together, was indeed magnificent.

The doctor was wild with enthusiasm about it, when Simpson, the harpooner, came up to him and asked him to notice the changing tints of the sea, which varied from deep blue to olive green; long bands ran from north to south with edges so sharply cut that the line of division could be seen as far as the horizon. Sometimes a transparent sheet would stretch out from an opaque one.

"Well, Dr. Clawbonny, what do you think of that?" said Simpson.

"I agree, my friend, with what Scoresby said about these differently colored waters," answered the doctor, "namely, that the blue water does not contain the millions of animalcules and medusæ which the green water contains; he made a great many experiments to test it, and I am ready to agree with him."

"O, but there's something else it shows!"

"What is that?"

"Well, if the Forward were only a whaler, I believe we should have some sport."

"But," answered the doctor, "I don't see any whales."

"We shall very soon, though, I promise you. It's great luck for a whaler to see those green patches in these latitudes."

"Why so?" asked the doctor, whose curiosity was aroused by these remarks of a man who had had experience in what he was talking about.

"Because," answered Simpson, "it is in that green water that most of the whales are caught."

"What is the reason, Simpson?"

"Because they get more food there."

"You are sure of that?"

"O, I have seen it a hundred times in Baffin's Bay! I don't see why the same shouldn't be the case in Melville Bay."

"You must be right, Simpson."

"And see," Simpson continued as he leaned over the rail, – "see there, Doctor."

"One would say it was the track of a ship."

"Well," said Simpson, "it's an oily substance that the whale leaves behind it. Really, the whale itself can't be far off."

In fact, the atmosphere was filled with a strong fishy smell. The doctor began to examine the surface of the sea, and the harpooner's prediction was soon verified. Foker was heard shouting from aloft, —

"A whale to leeward!"

All turned their eyes in that direction; a low spout was seen rising from the sea about a mile from the brig.

"There she spouts!" shouted Simpson, whose experienced eye soon detected it.

"It's gone," said the doctor.

"We could soon find it again, if it were necessary," said Simpson, regretfully.

But to his great surprise, although no one had dared to ask it, Hatteras gave the order to lower and man the whale-boat; he was glad to give the men some distraction, and also to get a few barrels of oil. They heard the order with great satisfaction.

Four sailors took their places in the whale-boat; Johnson took the helm; Simpson stood in the bow, harpoon in hand. The doctor insisted on joining the party. The sea was quite smooth. The whale-boat went very fast, and in about ten minutes she was a mile from the brig.

The whale, having taken another breath, had dived again; but soon it came up and projected fifteen feet into the air that combination of gases and mucous fluid which escapes from its vent-holes.

"There, there!" cried Simpson, pointing to a place about eight hundred yards from the boat.

They approached it rapidly; and the brig, having also seen it, drew near slowly.

The huge monster kept appearing above the waves, showing its black back, which resembled a great rock in the sea; a whale never swims rapidly unless pursued, and this one was letting itself be rocked by the waves.

The hunters approached in silence, choosing the green water, which was so opaque as to prevent the whale from seeing them. It is always exciting to watch a frail boat attacking one of these monsters; this one was about one hundred and thirty feet long, and often between latitude 72° and 80° whales are found more than one hundred and twenty-four feet long; ancient writers have often spoken of some longer than seven hundred feet, but they are imaginary animals.

Soon the boat was very near the whale. Simpson made a sign, the men stopped rowing, and, brandishing his harpoon, he hurled it skilfully; this, with sharp barbs, sank into the thick layers of fat. The wounded whale dived rapidly. At once the four oars were unshipped; the rope which was attached to the harpoon ran out rapidly, and the boat was dragged along while Johnson steered it skilfully.

The whale swam away from the brig and hastened towards the moving icebergs; for half an hour it went on in this way; the cord had to be kept wet to prevent its taking fire from friction. When the animal seemed to go more slowly, the rope was dragged back and carefully coiled; the whale rose again to the surface, lashing violently with its tail; huge spouts of water were dashed up by it and fell in torrents on the boat, which now approached rapidly; Simpson had taken a long lance and was prepared to meet the whale face to face.

But it plunged rapidly into a pass between two icebergs. Further pursuit seemed dangerous.

"The devil!" said Johnson.

"Forward, forward, my friends," shouted Simpson, eager for the chase; "the whale is ours."

"But we can't follow it among the icebergs," answered Johnson, turning the boat away.

"Yes, yes!" cried Simpson.

"No, no!" said some of the sailors.

"Yes!" cried others.

During this discussion the whale had got between two icebergs which the wind and waves were driving together.

The whale-boat was in danger of being dragged into this dangerous pass, when Johnson sprang forward, axe in hand, and cut the line.

It was time; the two icebergs met with irresistible force, crushing the whale between them.

"Lost!" cried Simpson.

"Saved!" said Johnson.

"Upon my word," said the doctor, who had not flinched, "that was well worth seeing!"

The crushing power of these mountains is enormous. The whale was the victim of an accident that is very frequent in these waters. Scoresby tells us that in the course of a single summer thirty whalers have been lost in this way in Baffin's Bay; he saw a three-master crushed in one minute between two walls of ice, which drew together with fearful rapidity and sank the ship with all on board. Two other ships he himself saw cut through, as if by a long lance, by huge pieces of ice more than a hundred feet long.

A few moments later the whale-boat returned to the brig, and was hauled up to its usual place on deck.

"That's a lesson," said Shandon, aloud, "for those who are foolhardy enough to venture into the passes!"

CHAPTER XX

BEECHEY ISLAND

June 25th the Forward sighted Cape Dundas, at the northwest extremity of Prince of Wales Land. There they found more serious difficulties amid thicker ice. The channel here grows narrower, and the line of Crozier, Young, Day, and Lowther Islands ranged in a line, like forts in a harbor, drive the ice-streams nearer together. What would otherwise have taken the brig a day now detained her from June 25th to the end of the month; she was continually obliged to stop, to retreat, and to wait for a favorable chance to reach Beechey Island. Meanwhile a great deal of coal was consumed; though during the frequent halts only small fires were kept burning, sufficient to keep steam up day and night.

Hatteras knew as well as Shandon the reduced state of their supply; but feeling sure that he would find fuel at Beechey Island, he did not wish to lose a minute for the sake of economy; he had been very much delayed by running south; and, although he had taken the precaution of leaving England in April, he now found himself no farther advanced than previous expeditions had been at that time of year.

The 30th they passed Cape Walker at the northeast extremity of Prince of Wales Land; this is the farthest point seen by Kennedy and Bellot, May 3d, 1852, after an expedition across North Somerset. In 1851, Captain Ommaney of the Austin expedition had been fortunate enough to get fresh supplies there for his detachment.

This cape, which is very lofty, is remarkable for its reddish-brown color; in clear weather one can see as far as the entrance of Wellington Channel. Towards evening they saw Cape Bellot, separated from Cape Walker by MacLeon's Bay. Cape Bellot was so named in presence of that young French officer to whom the English expedition gave three cheers. At this place the coast consists of a yellowish limestone, very rough in appearance; it is protected by huge masses of ice which the north-wind collects there in the most imposing way. It was soon no longer to be seen from the Forward's deck, as she was making her way amid the loose ice towards Beechey Island through Barrow Strait.

Hatteras, having resolved to go on in a straight line, in order not to be carried past the island, hardly left the deck during the subsequent days; he would go aloft to the cross-trees in order to pick out the most favorable path for the brig. All that skill, coolness, boldness, and even maritime genius could do, was done by him while sailing through the strait. It is true that fortune did not favor him, for at that season he ought to have found the sea nearly open. But by dint of sparing neither steam, his men, nor himself, he succeeded in his aim.

July 3d, at eleven o'clock in the morning, the ice-master saw land to the north; Hatteras soon made it out as Beechey Island, the general rendezvous for arctic explorers. Almost all the ships which sail in these latitudes touch here. Here Franklin passed his first winter before advancing into Wellington Channel. Here Creswell, MacClure's lieutenant, after a march of four hundred and sixty miles on the ice,23 rejoined the Phoenix and returned to England. The last ship which anchored at Beechey Island before the Forward was the Fox; MacClintock took in supplies there, August 11, 1855, and repaired the dwellings and storehouses; that was but a short time previous. Hatteras knew all these details.

The boatswain's heart beat strongly at the sight of this island; when he had last seen it he had been quartermaster on the Phoenix; Hatteras asked him about the coast, the place for anchoring, the possible change of the bottom. The weather was perfect; the thermometer marked 57°.

"Well, Johnson," said the captain, "do you recognize this place?"

"Yes, Captain, it's Beechey Island! Only we ought to bear a little farther north; the coast is more easily approached there."

"But the buildings, the stores?" said Hatteras.

"O, you can't see them till you get ashore; they are hidden behind those hillocks you see there!"

"And did you carry large supplies there?"

"Yes, they were large. The Admiralty sent us here in 1853, under the command of Captain Inglefield, with the steamer Phoenix and a transport, the Breadalbane, loaded with supplies; we carried enough to revictual a whole expedition."

"But did not the commander of the Fox take a great deal away in 1855?" said Hatteras.

"O, don't be anxious, Captain!" answered Johnson; "there will be enough left for you; the cold keeps everything wonderfully, and we shall find everything as fresh and in as good condition as on the first day."

"I'm not so anxious about the provisions," answered Hatteras; "I have enough for several years; what I stand in need of is coal."

"Well, Captain, we left more than a thousand tons there; so you can feel easy about that."

"Let us stand nearer," resumed Hatteras, who, glass in hand, kept examining the shore.

"You see that point," said Johnson; "when we've doubled it, we shall be near our anchorage. Yes, it's from there we started for England with Lieutenant Creswell and twelve sick men of the Investigator. But if we were fortunate enough to be of service to Captain MacClure's lieutenant, Bellot, the officer who accompanied us on the Phoenix, never saw his home again! Ah, that's a sad memory! But, Captain, I think it's here we ought to anchor."

"Very well," answered Hatteras.

And he gave the proper orders. The Forward lay in a little harbor sheltered from the north, east, and south winds, about a cable-length from the shore.

"Mr. Wall," said Hatteras, "you will lower the launch and send six men to bring coal aboard."

"Yes, sir," answered Wall.

"I am going ashore in the gig with the doctor and the boatswain; Mr. Shandon, will you go with us?"

"At your orders," answered Shandon.

A few minutes later the doctor, with gun and baskets for any specimens he might find, took his place in the gig with his companions; ten minutes later they stepped out on a low, rocky shore.

"Lead the way, Johnson," said Hatteras; "do you remember it?"

"Perfectly, Captain; only here is a monument which I did not expect to find here."

"That," shouted the doctor, "I know what it is; let's go look at it; it will tell us of itself why it was put here."

The four men went up to it, and the doctor, baring his head, said, —

"This, my friends, is a monument raised to the memory of Franklin and his companions."

In fact, Lady Franklin having, in 1855, sent a tablet of black marble to Dr. Kane, gave another in 1858 to MacClintock to be placed on Beechey Island. MacClintock discharged his duty, and placed this tablet near a funeral pile raised to the memory of Bellot by Sir John Barrow.

This tablet bore the following inscription: —

Who have suffered and perished in the cause of science and the service of their country.

Is erected near the spot where they passed their first arctic Winter, and whence they issued forth to conquer difficulties or

It commemorates the grief of their Admiring Countrymen and Friends, and the anguish, subdued by Faith, of her who has lost, in the heroic Leader of the Expedition, the Most Devoted and Affectionate of Husbands.

This stone, on a lonely shore of these remote regions, touched every one's heart; the doctor felt the tears rising in his eyes. On the very spot whence Franklin and his men sailed, full of hope and strength, there was now merely a slab of marble to commemorate them; and in spite of this solemn warning of fate, the Forward was about to follow the path of the Erebus and Terror.

Hatteras was the first to rouse himself; he ascended quickly a rather high hillock, which was almost entirely bare of snow.

"Captain," said Johnson, following him, "from there we ought to see the stores."

Shandon and the doctor joined them just as they reached the top of the hill.

But their eyes saw nothing but large plains with no trace of a building.

"This is very strange," said the boatswain.

"Well, these stores?" said Hatteras, quickly.

"I don't know, – I don't see – " stammered Johnson.

"You must have mistaken the path," said the doctor.

"Still it seems to me," resumed Johnson after a moment's reflection, "that at this very spot – "

"Well," said Hatteras, impatiently, "where shall we go?"

"Let's go down again," said the boatswain, "for it's possible I've lost my way! In seven years I may have forgotten the place."

"Especially," said the doctor, "when the country is so monotonous."

"And yet – " muttered Johnson.

Shandon said not a word. After walking a few minutes, Johnson stopped.

"No," he said, "I'm not mistaken."

"Well," said Hatteras, looking around.

"What makes you say so, Johnson?" asked the doctor.

"Do you see this little rise in the earth?" asked the boatswain, pointing downwards to a mound in which three elevations could be clearly seen.

"What does that mean?" asked the doctor.

"There," answered Johnson, "are the three tombs of Franklin's sailors. I'm sure of it! I'm not mistaken, and the stores must be within a hundred paces of us, and if they're not there, – it's because – "

He durst not finish his sentence; Hatteras ran forward, and terrible despair seized him. There ought to stand those much-needed storehouses, with supplies of all sorts on which he had been counting; but ruin, pillage, and destruction had passed over that place where civilized hands had accumulated resources for battered sailors. Who had committed these depredations? Wild animals, wolves, foxes, bears? No, for they would have destroyed only the provisions; and there was left no shred of a tent, not a piece of wood, not a scrap of iron, no bit of any metal, nor – what was more serious for the men of the Forward– a single lump of coal.

Evidently the Esquimaux, who have often had much to do with European ships, had finally learned the value of these objects; since the visit of the Fox they had come frequently to this great storehouse, and had pillaged incessantly, with the intention of leaving no trace of what had been there; and now a long drift of half-melted snow covered the ground.

Hatteras was baffled. The doctor gazed and shook his head. Shandon said nothing, but an attentive observer would have noticed a wicked smile about his lips.

At this moment the men sent by Wall arrived. They took it all in at a glance. Shandon went up to the captain and said, —

"Mr. Hatteras, we need not despair; fortunately we are near the entrance to Barrow Strait, which will carry us back to Baffin's Bay."

"Mr. Shandon," answered Hatteras, "we are fortunately near the entrance of Wellington Channel, and it will lead us to the north."

"And how shall we go, Captain?"

"Under sail, sir. We have two months' fuel left, and that is more than we shall need for next winter."

"Permit me to say," began Shandon.

"I permit you to follow me to the ship, sir," was Hatteras's answer.

And turning his back on his first officer, he returned to the brig and locked himself in his cabin.

For two days the wind was unfavorable; the captain did not come on deck. The doctor profited by this forced delay to examine Beechey Island; he collected a few plants which a comparatively high temperature let grow here and there on some rocks which projected from the snow, such as heather, a few lichens, a sort of yellow ranunculus, a plant like sorrel with leaves a trifle larger, and some sturdy saxifrages.

The fauna of this country was much richer; the doctor saw large flocks of geese and cranes flying northward; partridges, eider-ducks, northern divers, numerous ptarmigans, which are delicious eating, noisy flocks of kittiwakes, and great white-bellied loons represented the winged tribe. The doctor was lucky enough to kill some gray hares, which had not yet put on their white winter coat of fur, and a blue fox, which Duke skilfully caught. A few bears, evidently accustomed to fear men, could not be approached, and the seals were very timid, probably for the same reason. The harbor was full of a very good tasting shellfish. The genus articulata, order diptera, family culicides, division nemocera, was represented by a simple mosquito, a single one, which the doctor, though much bitten, had the pleasure of catching. As a conchologist, he was less fortunate, and he was obliged to content himself with a sort of mussel and some bivalves.

CHAPTER XXI

THE DEATH OF BELLOT

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, the Forward had 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.