CHAPTER XII.

AUTUMN TRAVELLING.

"When suddenly a grosse fog over spred, With his dull vapour all that desert has, And heaven's cheerfull face enveloped; That all things one, and one as nothing was, And this great universe seemed one confused mass.

"Thereat they greatly were dismay'd, ne wist How to direct theyr way in darknes wide; But feared to wander in that wastefull miste, For tombling into mischiefe unespyde: Worse is the danger hidden than descride."

SPENSER.

There are, I am sure, many among those "who stay at home at ease" who have little or no idea of what sledge travelling in the Arctic Regions is like, and who even fail to realize that it entails hard work of any description.

Their imaginations picture the travellers seated on sledges, comfortably wrapped up in shawls and furs, and drawn by a team of dogs or reindeer gaily caparisoned, with their bells jingling as they dash along at a rapid pace over a smooth plain of snow and ice. They imagine that after the toil of the day is over a large fire is built up, and, having obtained some salmon, venison, or other product of the chase, a sumptuous meal is cooked and discussed, after which the sledge travellers compose themselves to sleep in a nice warm snow-house or wooden hut constructed by their attendants. All this sounds very delightful, and is, to my personal knowledge, believed to be a fairly true picture of Arctic life by a large majority of people. Unfortunately it is the very reverse of sledge life on the shores of the Polar Ocean. Let us see what it is like in reality. There, great climatic hardships have to be endured, combined with physical labour of no ordinary description. No change or variety of any sort can be made in the fare, nor can more than a certain allowance be allotted to each individual. When that is consumed, hunger must be borne with patience until the time has arrived for the next meal, for until that is due nothing is obtainable.

For shelter at night time, a tent made of the very lightest material (for economy of weight is the most important point to be considered in sledge travelling) is all the covering to protect the travellers from the furious onslaughts of a biting wind, always accompanied by a blinding snow-drift. So searching is the latter that in spite of all efforts it will penetrate through every little orifice into the tent, covering everything inside with a layer of minute snow crystals, and rendering an uncomfortable night still more comfortless and disagreeable. Rolled up in their bags, with the hard frozen sea as their couch, affording little rest to their aching and frost-bitten limbs, the wearied sledgers vainly attempt in sleep to become oblivious to the present. As for a fire by which circulation might be restored in their numbed extremities, that is quite out of the question. A limited amount of spirits of wine, barely sufficient to cook the allowance of provisions, is all the fuel with which they are supplied. Even if the material for making a fire, such as driftwood, was available, it would be impossible to benefit by it, for it could not be lighted in the tent, whilst outside, under such circumstances as I have related, it would be impracticable.

This is a slight sketch of what has to be endured by the Polar sledge traveller; but a cheerful spirit, a contented mind, and an ardent desire to achieve success are quite sufficient to enable him to withstand the attendant hardships, and even to laugh at and treat them with contempt.

I cannot do better than quote the words of Sir George Nares, who, addressing our men before leaving England, whilst explaining to them the nature of the work that they were about to engage in, and speaking from his own personal previous experience of sledge life, said, "That if they could imagine the hardest work they had ever been called upon to perform in their lives intensified to the utmost degree, it would only be as child's play in comparison with the work they would have to perform whilst sledging!"

These prophetic words were fully realized, and were often recalled and commented on by the men during their initiation into the work of sledging.

The autumn sledge travelling has been alluded to by a very distinguished and successful explorer in the Arctic Regions, as "the very acme of discomfort." In the accuracy of this statement we, one and all, fully concurred.

The principal reasons that sledging at this period of the year is more disagreeable than in the spring are, first, because the rapidly decreasing light caused by the sun's altitude lessening day by day is decidedly opposed to either work or comfort. Before our return from sledging, the sun had illumined for the last time, until its reappearance the following year, the summits of the snow-covered hills in the vicinity of the "Alert's" winter quarters, and had sunk, slowly and majestically, beneath the southern horizon, bequeathing to us only for a short time a few bright rays until the long polar night wrapped us in its sombre mantle, and enveloped us in gloom and obscurity for many months.

"'Tis gone, that bright and orbèd blaze, Fast fading from our wistful gaze; Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight The last faint pulse of quivering light."

A few hours of twilight, therefore, were all we had in which to work. Candles we had none. Our breakfast before we started in the morning and our supper after we halted in the evening had to be discussed in gloomy darkness. Our notes had to be written in our journals before entering the tent, even at the risk of frost-bitten fingers.

In the second place, at this time of the year the ice, over which the sledges have to be dragged, is of very recent formation, and is consequently weak and dangerous. The travellers are therefore more liable to immersion by breaking through the thin ice at this period of the season than they are during the spring, or indeed at any other time. Young, and therefore smooth and level ice, covered with a treacherous layer of snow, often entices the unwary to turn from the rougher but stronger floes to travel on its flat plain surface. An immersion is invariably the result. Sometimes the leading men on the drag-ropes break through this weak ice first, and, by so doing, time is given to stop and save the sledge; but very often the ice directly under the sledge gives way without previous warning, when every effort must be at once directed to save the sledge. Although this is always successful it is generally at the expense of the greater part of the biscuit, which is so saturated with salt water as to be uneatable, and the wetting, and the consequent freezing, of the tent with all its appurtenances. Nothing more wretched and miserable can be conceived than having to pass the night in a stiffly frozen sleeping bag, inside a tent, which at the best of times is barely large enough to accommodate the party of men for whom it is allotted, but which has been considerably shrunk by being frozen. Not the least unpleasant part is the process of pitching it, for having become as hard as a piece of board, it is with great difficulty unfolded; more especially as this operation has to be performed after the fatigues of a hard day's sledging, by wearied men, in such a temperature that it is impossible to expose the hands bare to the cold, and it must therefore be carried out with mittens on.

The constant wetting of the feet also renders the men more liable to frost-bites; whilst the heavy fall of snow, usually experienced in these regions during the autumn, renders the work ten times more arduous. For the air thus becomes so thick that it is impossible to see many yards ahead, and we have to trust solely to a compass as a guide. We might, in truth, fairly quote the lines from Spenser's "Faërie Queene," at the heading of the present chapter, as illustrating our difficulties in this respect--

"That all things one, and one as nothing was, And this great universe seemed one confused mass."

And lastly this continual breaking through the ice of both men and sledge, combined with the heavy and incessant fall of snow, renders the task of walking and dragging a sledge one of extreme labour and anxiety. These were the little difficulties we had to experience during our novitiate in this autumn sledge travelling, and they must be generally expected by explorers who go away so late in the year.

In a future chapter I propose to give a full account of the routine of sledge life, of the equipment and scale of provisions, and of all other details connected with sledging operations in the Arctic Regions. I will now, therefore, proceed at once to give a brief account of our journey, for the purpose of laying out a depôt in the autumn, which occupied three weeks of very severe and harassing work.

At eight o'clock, on the 25th of September, the three officers commanding sledges, myself and Lieutenants Parr and May, assembled at breakfast in sledging costume, and a rattling good breakfast our caterer gave us. At 8.15 our standards were displayed on the sledges, the ship hoisting the ensign. At 8.30 the crews took up their stations alongside their respective sledges, and the order was given to march. Our men stepped out bravely, and as they did so three hearty cheers resounded from the ship. I called a halt and returned the salute with as much emphasis as twenty-four powerful pairs of lungs could give, and then continued the march. The young ice seemed strong enough to bear, so leaving the ice foot, on which the travelling was heavy, we ventured on the new ice. But we had not gone more than a mile when, to my horror, Parr's sledge, the "Victoria," went through! It was a case of all hands to the rescue, and after fifteen minutes of hard tugging and hauling we succeeded in dragging it upon a firm piece of ice. But everything was thoroughly saturated. There was nothing for it but to send back at once for another sledge and dry things. This being done, we again proceeded for about three miles, when suddenly I heard a crack, and looking round, there was my sledge through! We dragged it on shore, and unpacking at once, I was glad to find that we had suffered less than the "Victoria;" but it was bad enough. Our tent and gear at the top were of course saturated, and nearly all our biscuit spoilt. However, I did not think it advisable to return, so re-packing we made another start, and shortly afterwards were rejoined by Parr. After marching for twelve miles I halted for the night with the temperature 3° below zero, the tent frozen hard and shrunk considerably. Next day we marched thirteen miles over ice whose blue uneven surface was as smooth as glass, making it very hard work for the men, who were sorely put to it to maintain their footing. They worked splendidly, trudging merrily along, making light of the heavy loads and the treacherous ice, thinking only of performing a good day's work, and of advancing the depôt as far north as possible.

On the third day, being unable to round a point of land owing to several lanes of water, we were obliged to unload the sledges and carry the things piecemeal across a neck of land about two miles in width and a hundred feet above the level of the sea. On the same evening snow began to fall, and from that time it fell incessantly until our return to the ship, increasing in depth day by day. This, combined with the softness of the snow as it fell, seriously impeded our advance, and we were frequently obliged to halt our sledges whilst the men were employed clearing a road with the shovels. So impervious was the air, owing to the heavy fall of snow, that it was only occasionally that we were able to obtain glimpses of the land as we journeyed onwards, rendering it most difficult to make out its conformation, or even the direction in which the coast line trended.

From the unaccustomed work of dragging, the shoulders of the men began to evince symptoms of rawness, although they constantly shifted their drag belts from one shoulder to the other. In spite of these little drawbacks, and the dull overcast weather that generally prevailed, the spirits of the men never flagged, and every night the labour of the day would be forgotten, and singing and laughter would be the only sounds heard issuing from our little camp, long after we had comfortably settled ourselves in our sleeping bags.

It was amusing to listen to the quaint remarks and witty conversation of the men, as, reclining in their bags and smoking their pipes, they would, regardless of the generally dreaded presence of the commander, broach lower deck topics, and freely discuss and criticize them. I was much surprised at the extensive Arctic knowledge which they possessed, showing that they had read largely on this subject, and were anxious to learn yet more.

I must own that the subject of eating and drinking monopolized a very large share of the conversation; nor did they only occupy our minds whilst awake, for they frequently formed the subject of our dreams. On one occasion when I aroused the men in the morning one of them said, "Oh! I am sorry you called me so soon, sir, for I was dreaming that I was eating plum pudding, and if you had let me finish it would have been as good as a breakfast to me!" Gales of wind were, of course, serious impediments to our advance, and were of not unfrequent occurrence. They invariably necessitated a halt, as, irrespective of the cold wind being productive of frost-bites, it was almost impossible to make way through the blinding snow-drift, which did not admit of anything being seen even at the distance of a yard or two!

On the 4th of October, half our provisions being consumed, and there being the prospect of very heavy travelling before us on our homeward journey, it was decided to return. The depôt was therefore established, on the brow of a ridge just above our encampment. It consisted of 870 lbs. of pemmican and 240 lbs. of bacon. May and myself pushed on, with the object of reaching Cape Joseph Henry; but the weather was too thick to obtain any view, and, for the same reason, it was impossible to ascertain the trend of the coast or the nature of the travelling to the northward. The floes seemed to be composed of very heavy ice, and the hummocks were piled up to a great height along the coast, especially off any projecting points of land. Lieutenant Aldrich had, however, ascended a hill some two thousand feet in height, and was fortunate in having a fine clear day. From Cape Joseph Henry the land, he saw, trended away to the westward, but there was no indication of anything but the impenetrable polar pack to the north. We reached a latitude of about 82° 50´ N. before turning our steps homewards.

On the return journey the dragging became infinitely more irksome and laborious. The snow had accumulated to such a depth as to render some of the ravines and promontories almost impassable, being above the men's knees nearly all the time. On one occasion we were compelled to take our sledges up a range of hills two hundred and fifty feet above the level of the sea, in order to pass a precipitous cliff, off which was a stream of water, and then to lower them down a steep incline on the opposite side. To add to our difficulties, a sudden fall of temperature produced many severe frost-bites, principally on the feet and toes. Circulation was always restored as speedily as possible by the application of the warm hand, and the injured part was then dressed with glycerine ointment and lint.

The hills, over which we were obliged to take our sledges, subsequently went by the name of the "Frost-bite Range," in consequence of the many casualties sustained during the time we were on them.

On the 9th the temperature was 15° below zero, and the boots, stockings, and foot wrappers were frozen to the men's feet. On coming down the hills the sledges had literally to be lowered to the ice-foot from a height of two hundred and fifty feet, at a very steep angle. Thence it was necessary to follow the shore, where enormous hummocks of ice were piled up, having huge cracks and fissures, into which we sunk to our necks in snow. In crossing some sludgy ice between the hummocks, on the 11th, Lieutenant May unfortunately went through, and was so severely frost-bitten that he eventually had to suffer amputation of one of his great toes.

The sun set at about one in the afternoon. A glorious sight: the colours of the sunrise and sunset seeming to be blended together. This was on Tuesday, and at breakfast on the following Friday all the provisions would be expended. The 13th was the last day of the sun's appearance.

On the 14th the temperature was down to 25° below zero, and the travelling very heavy; but our sufferings were nearly over. At seven we sighted the ship, and hoisted our sledge standards. All the officers and ship's company came out to meet and help us, and by 8.50 P.M. we were on board.

Some of the frost-bites were so severe as to render amputation necessary. This arose from the difficulty of finding out the injury in time. A frost-bite steals upon one like a thief in the night, and before the victim is aware it often happens that mortification has set in. No less than half the party were placed on the sick list from being more or less severely frost-bitten.

It was a very great relief and comfort to us to be again on board, and extremely gratifying to receive such a welcome as that extended to us by our messmates. They were already feeling a little anxious at our prolonged absence, knowing that we were only provisioned for twenty days, and fearing that our return journey would be greatly delayed by the late excessive fall of snow.

How comfortable the ward-room looked, with the lamps burning brightly, a cheerful fire blazing in the stove, and, what delighted us almost still more, a clean white cloth spread upon the table, and on it a sumptuous repast, made doubly inviting by a couple of decanters of madeira and port! These little comforts and luxuries, though they may appear to casual readers unimportant and insignificant, are thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated by wearied and foot-sore travellers who have been strangers to light, comfort, and a good meal, though only for three short weeks. The pleasure of a warm bath and the enjoyment of brushing one's hair are beyond all description! We were all a little thinner when we returned; but, with the exception of the frost-bites, none the worse for our expedition.

So far as the results were concerned we were quite satisfied, considering them perfectly successful.

We had established a depôt of provisions some forty miles to the northward of the ship, which would very materially assist the sledging campaign of the ensuing spring. A large amount of thorough practical experience had been gained, which we hoped would bear good fruit in the coming year. And we had succeeded in reaching and passing the highest latitude attained, to the northward of Spitzbergen, by that distinguished Arctic navigator, Sir Edward Parry, forty-eight years before, during his memorable journey over the frozen sea towards the North Pole.

These were the most important results gained by the autumn sledging.

The disappearance of the sun before our return necessarily prevented a more protracted exploration being made. As it was we only had sufficient light during midday for a very few hours' work.

Perhaps, as it was our first experience in sledging, it was as well we were not able to remain absent for a greater length of time. As an instance of the manner in which the different articles increased in weight during the autumn travelling, we found on our return to the ship that the tent which had previously weighed 32 lbs. had increased to 55 lbs., the coverlet from 21 lbs. to 48 lbs., the lower robe from 18 lbs. to 40 lbs., the floor-cloth from 11 lbs. to 29 lbs., and everything else in proportion! This increase is due to the absorption of all moisture, which instantly freezes. In the spring, although the temperature is far lower, this moisture, even when frozen, is extracted by exposure to the sun. In the autumn this is impossible, as the sun has disappeared.