CHAPTER XXI.

THE ROUTINE OF SLEDGE TRAVELLING.

"We are well persuaded We carry not a heart with us from hence That grows not in a fair consent with ours; Nor leave not one behind, that doth not wish Success and conquest to attend on us."

_Henry V._

On the morning of Monday, the 3rd of April, an unwonted bustle and excitement on board and around the "Alert" betokened that something unusual was taking place. Men in their travelling costumes might have been observed busily engaged in adding the last finishing touches to the already well-packed sledges. Officers, also in travelling attire, were carefully conveying delicate instruments from the ship to the row of sledges drawn up in "line of battle" on the floe, whilst the white ensign flying from the peak bore witness of some important event.

The day was indeed one of memorable import, for it was the one that we had all, during the long dark winter, looked forward to as that on which our real work was to commence. It was the day on which we were to start forth with the object of achieving all that was possible with the means at our disposal, in the great and glorious work of increasing the stock of geographical knowledge respecting the Polar regions. No wonder, then, that the scene of our winter quarters presented an animated and unwonted appearance on that bright but intensely cold morning.

The sledges, seven in number, on two of which were placed the boats to accompany the northern division, were drawn up in single line, one before the other, according to the seniority of their respective leaders. They were all fully equipped and provisioned, and were "manned" by a force of fifty-three officers and men; a chosen band, eager to emulate the deeds of their predecessors, and willing to risk their lives in bringing to a successful issue the task they had resolved to accomplish.

A strict medical examination had been held a day or two previously, and the rather unnecessary question, "Do you feel yourself fit and able in every way to go sledging?" was put to all. It is needless to record the answer!

On the previous day, being Sunday, Pullen preached a capital sermon, drawing comparisons between the undertaking in which we were about to engage, and the march of the Israelites to the Promised Land. The hymn "for those at sea" was sung and the Holy Communion celebrated, at which latter service there was an exceptionally good attendance, the number of communicants amongst the men having largely increased.

From each sledge flew the bright colours of its commander's standard: a swallow-tailed flag bearing the armorial colours, and emblazoned with the crest of its owner, each charged with the red cross of St. George. In addition, the two boats displayed from their mast-heads Captain Nares's Union Jack and a white ensign. Worked by the fair hands of some loved and cherished one at home, these standards, as they fluttered out bravely before a gentle breeze, kindled our enthusiasm, whilst they materially added to the spirit and gaiety of the scene.

The sledges were arranged in the following order:--"Marco Polo" (with a boat), "Challenger," "Victoria" (with a boat), "Poppie," "Bulldog," "Alexandra," and "Bloodhound;" the latter was only a small sledge party ordered to accompany us for three or four days, then supply us with three days' provisions, and return to the ship to report our progress.

At eleven o'clock, everything being in readiness for a start, all hands assembled on the floe, and prayers were read by Pullen. The hymn, "God, from whom all blessings flow," was then sung, after which the order was given to "fall in," and, amidst the hearty cheers of those few who were left behind, the sledging parties moved off. The captain and officers accompanied us for a short distance, when, wishing us Godspeed, they turned to go back. This was a signal for three cheers from the travellers, after which they settled down to their work, and the march was steadily commenced.

The first day's march was necessarily a short one. It was to many their introduction to the "drag-ropes," and symptoms of fatigue were soon detected, caused by the energetic exertions of the inexperienced, who, unlike the veterans of the previous autumn, overtaxed their strength in their ardour to perform a good day's work.

The temperature at starting was 33° below zero, and at this it remained steady the whole day, rendering the task of writing up our journals when we halted extremely unpleasant and painful.

The scene of our first encampment was an animated and picturesque one. We had marched about six miles from the ship, and the site selected was at the base of a low brow, forming a connection or isthmus between a long projecting tongue and the mainland. Here we pitched our seven tents, from each of which the smoke from the cooking utensils issued, ascending in spiral columns until lost amidst the clouds. In our rear were the snow-clad hills, whilst in front was the illimitable frozen sea. Men hurried about in the execution of various duties incidental to "pitching for the night," such as the issuing of provisions by the several sledge-captains, the banking up with snow of the exterior of the tents, the re-packing of the sledges, or the careful covering up of the lading so as to ensure its protection from snow-drift; all of which duties must be sedulously carried out before rest and repose can be sought in the sleeping-bags. A pleasing aroma of cooking tea was mixed with the fragrance of stewed pemmican, and made us smack our lips in anticipation of the meal that was preparing.

Not the least hard part of a day's work is that of camping after a toilsome and weary journey, especially when the temperature is low and a cold sleepless night anticipated; but when the weather is warm enough to obtain a good night's rest, the order to halt is always received with very great satisfaction, more especially when a good day's work has been accomplished, with the prospect of fair travelling on the morrow.

As soon as the tents are ready for the reception of the men, they enter one by one, take off their "overalls" for which their duffel coats are substituted, change their foot gear and get into their sleeping-bags. This change of foot gear in the morning and evening is the whole extent of the toilet performed by the sledgers until their return to the ship!

The following morning we were under weigh pretty early, having spent a cold wretched night, only too glad to be up and doing something, the temperature inside our tent, with all the men in their bags, being as low as 15° below zero. The experience gained during the autumn had a very salutary effect on the travellers, the apprehension even of frost-bite being in itself sufficient to banish all idea of sleep.

The operation of dressing and undressing, although it is entirely limited to the clothing of the feet, is without doubt one of the most disagreeable duties connected with sledge travelling. Our hose and blanket-wrappers, although they were invariably kept _inside_ our sleeping-bags during the night, were frozen so hard in the morning that they were with the greatest difficulty folded over our feet. Sometimes the wrappers were tied round the knees at night-time to protect them from the cold, for that part of our body seemed more sensitive to the temperature than any other.

Not the least trying part of our toilet was lacing and tying the stiffly frozen strings of our equally hard moccasins with fingers either aching from cold or devoid of all sensation. Not only was this a very painful operation, but it was one that sorely taxed and ruffled the equanimity of our tempers.

The snow over which we travelled was very soft and, unfortunately for us, was also very deep, making the dragging with our heavily laden sledges most laborious, in fact so much so that we were frequently compelled to resort to "double banking;" that is to say, the two crews would be employed in first dragging on one sledge and then return to advance the other. This, of course, made our progress very slow. After the long confinement of the men during the darkness of the winter, they were, in spite of the careful attention that had been paid to daily exercise, hardly in what might be called first-rate condition, so that fatigue for the first few days was felt by the majority, and not wishing to impose too much on their zealous desire to push on, short journeys were in consequence performed.

On the second day out, the temperature fell to 45° below zero, or 77° below freezing point. The cold then was so intense as to deprive us of sleep, the temperature _inside_ the tent being as low as -25°, the whole period of rest being occupied in attempting to keep the blood in circulation. Several frost-bites were sustained, but they were all attended to in time, and resulted in nothing worse than severe and very uncomfortable blisters.

So hard were our tent robes and sleeping-bags frozen that they resembled sheet-iron, and care had to be taken to prevent them from coming into contact with the face, for an abrasion of the skin would undoubtedly follow!

Our curry paste, a small quantity of which we used to mix with our pemmican to make it more palateable, looked, as the cook of the day observed, exactly like a piece of brass, and was equally hard. Cramp in the legs was complained of by many during the first few nights, but gradually wore off, having in all probability been induced by the severe and unaccustomed exercise. Thirst was also a subject of complaint, and this, except at meal times, it was impossible to alleviate; for although each man was supplied with a tin water-bottle covered with duffel, the water could not be prevented from freezing, in spite of the bottles being kept inside the waistbands of the men's trousers. The practice of quenching thirst by putting snow or ice into the mouth is a very dangerous one and was never permitted.

On the fourth day out we parted with our little sledge, the "Bloodhound," which, having fulfilled its mission, returned to the ship, taking back one of our party, who appeared unable to stand the fatigues of sledging, and leaving one of their crew to fill his vacancy. We were thus able to send back intelligence of our progress so far, and to report the health of the men to be satisfactory, and that all were in capital spirits. On the 10th of April the six sledges in company arrived at the depôt of provisions established near Cape Joseph Henry during the autumn, and found it undisturbed. The remainder of that day was employed in bringing the provisions off to the sledges, which were left on the ice, and in distributing them. The next morning was thick and foggy, the atmosphere being rendered doubly obscure by a heavy fall of snow.

"The cold, uncomfortable daylight dawned, And the white tents, topping a low ground fog, Show'd like a fleet becalmed."

On this day the supporting sledges "Bulldog" and "Alexandra," having performed the duties allotted to them, bade farewell to their companions and returned to their ship. The two extended parties advanced on their solitary missions; the northern division leaving the land and pushing straight out on the rugged polar pack, whilst the western party continued the exploration of the coast to the westward.

It was a strange farewell that was taken on that cold dull day on the inhospitable ice-floe, amidst bristling hummocks and heaped up snow-drifts, as the several parties pursued their different courses, one returning to their Arctic home, the others to unknown difficulties, but to hoped-for discoveries.

Brief was the parting, but sincere were the wishes for each other's success. Hearty British cheers resounded in that icy wilderness, hitherto undisturbed by the presence of mortal man, as we bade adieu to our fellow-travellers, the echoes from which had scarce died away before their forms vanished from our view in the thick driving snow that shrouded in obscurity the surrounding objects.

It was, however, no time for reflection; for now all our energies, both mental and physical, had to be devoted to the furtherance of the great work with which we were entrusted. The men resolutely seized their drag-ropes, and with light and willing hearts commenced their toilsome advance.

In order to enable my readers to follow us during the time we were engaged in the sledging operations, I will endeavour to explain, as briefly as possible, the ordinary daily routine invariably carried out by those so employed belonging to the "Alert."

The cook for the day is an important personage, and his duties, as I have before related, are of a very onerous and trying description. Each individual composing the sledge crew has to perform this office in turn during twenty-four hours, and it is one that sorely taxes his patience and powers of endurance, especially in very cold weather. He gladly transfers his functions as cook to his successor, happy in the assurance that his "turn" will not come round for another week, unless sickness or any other unforeseen event should prostrate any of his comrades.

The cook's work commences at an early hour, when, after having lighted his lamp and converted sufficient ice or snow into water for the morning meal, he reenters the tent, and walking unconcernedly on the sleeping forms of his companions, proceeds deliberately to brush from the top and sides of the tent the condensed moisture that has been accumulating during the night, and which falls in minute frozen particles on the coverlet. This operation being concluded, to the no small relief of those over whom he has been walking, the coverlet is removed, well brushed, shaken, folded up, and placed on the sledge. He then busies himself with the important preparations for breakfast. In about two hours from the time that the cook is called, the cocoa is reported ready, when the rest of the party are awakened.

If the weather is very cold, breakfast is discussed in our bags, in which we all sit up; a comical-looking lot in our grey skull-caps and duffel coats! The biscuit bag is then laid in the centre of the tent, spoons are produced, and the pannikins, each containing one pint of warm cocoa, are handed in. The only articles that were not considered as common property amongst us were our spoons. These were slightly larger than an ordinary table-spoon, were made of horn, and supplied to each sledger by a beneficent Government. We generally carried them slung round our necks by laniards, or in our pockets.

The pannikins being emptied they are returned to the cook, who has in the mean time been preparing the pemmican. So hard is this article frozen that the portions for use have to be chipped off with a chopper before they can be put into the stew-pan.

While the cook's anxiety is momentarily increased by the fear that his fuel will be consumed before the repast is prepared, and his fingers are alternately burnt and frost-bitten in his endeavours to trim and adjust the lamp, prayers are read to those inside, the foot gear is changed and the sleeping-bags rolled up. By the time this has been done, the pemmican is ready, passed in, and eaten. Orders are then given to strike tent, pack sledge, and prepare to march.

The great secret in packing a sledge properly is to have the weights as nearly as possible in the centre--as far from the extremes as it is possible to get them, so that the sledge may rise easily over obstacles. When all is ready, the drag-ropes are manned, and with a "one, two, three, haul," and a good pull altogether, the sledge is started and the march commenced.

Care should be taken to scrape the pannikins out with a knife, before the refuse inside has time to freeze, otherwise it will be difficult to remove. Water for washing purposes, of any description, whilst sledging is quite out of the question. After marching for about five or six hours, a halt is called for lunch. This meal consists of four ounces of bacon, a little biscuit, and a warm pannikin of tea to each man.

Although the most refreshing and enjoyable of all our meals, luncheon was, when there was much wind, or the weather intensely cold, a very trying one. The halt is of necessity long. Frequently an hour or an hour and a half elapses before the tea is reported ready, during which time the men are compelled to keep constantly on the move to avoid frost-bites. When there is much wind the tent is pitched; but this adds little to our comfort, for it is too cold to remain inside for any length of time. If we were not all suffering from the same cause, we should be disposed to laugh at the strange antics of our companions in their efforts to keep their feet from getting frost-bitten. One man is "marking time" at the double; another jumping up and down in a frantic manner; another is sitting down cross-legged like a Turk, or a tailor, and is occupied in belabouring his feet with his mittened hands, in his energetic endeavours to restore circulation; whilst another, unable any longer to endure the cold, commences furiously to kick the sledge, or a hummock, with both feet like one bereft of his senses. Although halted, little rest is enjoyed; anxiously is the kettle watched, and many are the tender inquiries concerning the state of the water inside. "Does it boil?" is a question frequently asked, and unless the cook is blessed with an amiable disposition, the perversity of the kettle is sufficient, at times, to drive him almost distracted. The old saw, "A watched pot never boils," is fully exemplified. At length, to the relief and delight of all, the announcement is made that the tea is ready, when all troubles are forgotten in the pleasure and enjoyment of a warm pannikin of tea. Sometimes little difficulties would arise in consequence of the haste with which it was necessary to prepare and discuss this meal. These, although serious at the time, served afterwards to amuse, and were soon forgotten. On one occasion, the water having been boiled, and the cook having, as he thought, carefully added the tea and sugar, which were as carefully stirred up, the allowance of tea was served out and eagerly drunk by the wearied sledgers, who were only too glad and thankful to receive anything warm. It was not until some time after the allowance had been consumed that the cook discovered he had omitted to put in the _tea_, and had served out simply a decoction of warm water and brown sugar! Sometimes the tea was made from salt-water ice, the cook having inadvertently mixed it before tasting the water! In such a case we had either to drink it, or get none at all!

Our bacon was, as a rule, frozen so hard as to be like a piece of granite, and it was only by thawing it in our warm tea that it became eatable. This had the effect of converting our tea into a sort of soup!

The time of halting for the night varied considerably; but it was generally after ten, eleven, and sometimes twelve hours' steady marching. The first thing to be done is to select a suitable site as level as possible and where the snow is not too deep, for pitching the tent, which should be carefully banked up outside with snow to the height of two or three feet. Every one assists in this work except the cook, who is busily engaged in the necessary preparations for the evening meal. As soon as the tent is ready, the men enter, change their foot gear, and struggle into their half-frozen bags, their toes and feet having previously been examined by the officer for the detection of frost-bites. If a frost-bite is discovered, circulation is immediately restored, and the injured part dressed by the application of a little glycerine ointment and some lint.

As a rule the moccasins, hose, and blanket wrappers are so firmly frozen together that they are with difficulty separated, and are taken off the feet as _one_ article of clothing. It is amusing to witness the frantic exertions made by some of the men in their efforts to struggle into their duffel coats. They are frozen so stiff and hard that this operation is always an intensely aggravating one, and even when it is accomplished, the men are utterly helpless until the warmth from their bodies has partially thawed the coats and rendered them supple. They were, with a very great deal of truth, likened to "strait-jackets."

By the time that the whole party are comfortably settled in their bags, supper, consisting of tea and pemmican, is ready and served; after which pipes are lighted, conversation ensues, and the allowance of grog is served out. This is undoubtedly the most delightful and happiest part of the day's proceedings, and I should deprecate very strongly any attempts to deprive the poor Arctic sledger of his small modicum of rum and water, provided it was always issued at the same time as ours, and _never_ during the fatigue and exertions of the day. The quantity is so small that the most fanatical theorist cannot seriously maintain that it can do harm. But experience proves that it tends very materially to cheer and invigorate the men during the short time that they can really call their own in the whole twenty-four hours, and it certainly imparts a glow which induces sleep--a very important effect of its use. Sometimes singing will be the order of the day, or rather evening, or perhaps a book will be read aloud; but whatever amusement is resorted to for the purpose of thoroughly enjoying the half-hour after supper, whether it is singing, reading, or yarning, all are cheerful, contented, and happy.

Home is, of course, a great topic of conversation, and what each man intends doing on his return to England is freely discussed. We know all about each other, and frequently detect ourselves confiding secrets that we should under ordinary circumstances divulge only to our bosom friends. Sometimes a hot argument is maintained between two men belonging to different counties on the relative merits of the pigs of their own counties and their manner of feeding; or perhaps they will get into a discussion on the liberality of large landed proprietors near whom they may be living. For instance, one man who lived in Devonshire was extolling Lord Mount Edgcumbe. "Ah! he was a noble lord! he opened his grounds once a week for the admission of the public." But another man, hailing from Lancashire, answered by saying, "He didn't see that he was any better than any other lord; for," he said, "Lord Derby admitted the public into his park every day, and if it was raining he would send his carriage for you!" This argument, although I fear not strictly correct, was unanswerable, and the west countryman had to give in to the more liberal experiences of his friend.

Before composing ourselves to sleep, the cook, having made the necessary preparations for the morning's meal, passes in our coverlet. This is always the last thing done before closing the door of the tent for the night.

How is it possible to describe what this coverlet is like when handed in? Those who have never been initiated into the mysteries of Arctic sledge life would be unable to realize what it resembles when unpacked from the sledge. It is more like a piece of wood or sheet-iron than an article of woollen material. With the utmost difficulty it is unfolded; but as for spreading, that is quite out of the question: it stands up in the centre like a second tent, and refuses to lie flat, in spite of the beating with which it is assailed. It is only after it has been some time in this position that it gradually thaws, when it becomes a "wet blanket" indeed!

The contents of this chapter may give some idea of the ordinary routine of a sledge traveller's life. The details were invariably carried out by the different sledge parties despatched from the "Alert." In the succeeding chapter we will follow the fortunes of the northern division, and I shall endeavour to depict briefly the difficulties it had to contend with, and the manner in which they were surmounted.