CHAPTER XXVI.

THE RETURN VOYAGE IN THE ICE.

"Let our trusty band Haste to Fatherland, Let our vessel brave Plough the angry wave."

THORHALL'S _Saga_.

Cape Joseph Henry was lost to sight as the "Alert" rounded Cape Rawson; but very heavy ice off Cape Union for a time completely obstructed our progress.

Excessive caution was necessary in handling the ship amongst these ponderous floes. Patience combined with perseverance are essential virtues inseparable to successful ice navigation, and they were constantly called into requisition in order to ensure a safe deliverance from the dangers which surrounded us.

A vigilant look-out had to be kept on the pack, and the ship was moved from time to time in order to avoid a "nip." Frequently we would observe a heavy floe coming into contact with the large grounded masses of ice that lined the coast, forcing them over, or crumbling them into shapeless fragments, thus clearly illustrating our own fate should we be so unfortunate as to be caught between the two.

The orders "up" and "down screw and rudder" were given and executed several times during each day. As on our outward journey, preparations were now made for abandoning the ship at a moment's notice. Tents, clothing, cooking utensils, and all necessaries for a life on shore were spread out on the upper deck in readiness to be thrown on the ice in the event of such a catastrophe.

The cool way in which we all spoke of the probable loss of our home, and the prospect of being cast adrift at a moment's notice, was very remarkable. Perhaps the knowledge that our consort, the "Discovery," was within some forty miles of us, and therefore within easy travelling distance, might account for the light manner in which such a calamity was regarded; but it was impossible to disguise the fact that the loss of our good ship would be a very serious, not to say uncomfortable, event.

Steam had to be kept ready at a few minutes' notice, so as to take advantage of every little opening that might occur in the ice, even though we should only succeed in advancing a few hundred yards. On one occasion the ship was purposely forced into the pack, with which it drifted to the southward; but on the turn of the tide, when the ice began to drift in the opposite direction, it was no easy matter to free ourselves from the bondage to which we had voluntarily subjected ourselves. If it can be avoided, it is best not to allow a ship to get beset, even when the drift of the pack is favourable.

As we proceeded south, although our progress was slow, the change in the appearance and massiveness of the ice was very palpable. Occasionally we would meet small specimens of our palæocrystic friends, over which we had travelled during the preceding spring, but, as a rule, the ice was of a much lighter description. Still the floes were far heavier than those met with in Baffin Bay, and by no means to be despised.

During the time the ship was detained, waiting for the ice to open to allow her to proceed, our sportsmen were not idle, landing at all hours of the day and night in order to procure fresh food for the sick. So successful were they in their forays that the sick were supplied with a fresh meat meal daily,--geese, ducks, and hares forming the principal part of their "bags." The slaughter amongst the former was tremendous--entire flocks numbering from fifty to seventy birds falling victims to the prowess of not more than two guns, and within the short space perhaps of half an hour! The unfortunate birds being in the act of moulting were, of course, unable to escape the unerring aim of our marksmen.

In addition to crops of mustard and cress that we succeeded in raising on board, we were able to obtain small quantities of sorrel, which the convalescents were sent on shore to gather from the valleys and sides of the hills, often returning with sufficient to enable a limited allowance to be served out periodically. Sometimes the sick men were sent on shore themselves to _browse_ on this excellent antiscorbutic.

On the morning of the 5th of August, being within twenty miles of the "Discovery," Egerton, accompanied by one of the men, was sent to give them information of our position. Our own ship was then, and had been for the past forty-eight hours, effectually jammed by the ice and unable to move. In the mean time we on board the "Alert" were endeavouring to get our vessel clean, and into something like order and ship-shape. On the following morning we sustained a slight "nip," caused by the ice setting rapidly in towards us. Our rudder head was badly wrenched before the rudder could be unshipped, and the iron tiller was bent and crippled. We only succeeded in easing the pressure by exploding some charges under the ice. In the forenoon Rawson, with two of the men belonging to the "Discovery," walked on board. We were, of course, delighted to see them and to hear news of our consort.

From them we learnt that poor Egerton had lost his way, and did not arrive on board their ship until after he had been wandering about for eighteen hours! The news from the "Discovery" was what we feared. Notwithstanding the large amount of musk-ox flesh procured by them during the autumn and following summer, scurvy had attacked her crew in almost the same virulent manner as it had ours. The return journeys of some of their sledge parties were simply a repetition of our own. Beaumont's division--the one exploring the north-western coast of Greenland--had suffered very severely, and we heard with extreme regret that two of his small party had succumbed to this terrible disease.

The rest of his men, with himself and Dr. Coppinger, had not yet returned to the "Discovery," having remained in Polaris Bay to recruit their healths. This was, indeed, a bitter ending to our spring campaign, on which we had all set out so full of enthusiasm and hope. It had the effect, however, of confirming Captain Nares in his resolution to proceed to England. With such broken-down crews it would have been folly indeed to have risked the rigours of a second Arctic winter; and there was really nothing left for us to do, Beaumont having done his work so well that it would have been impossible for us to have extended any exploration in that quarter. The "Discovery" had been afloat for some time, and was in perfect readiness to proceed to sea on the arrival of Beaumont and his party. Their absence caused us great anxiety, as the pack, being in motion between ourselves and Polaris Bay, and consequently where they would have to cross, made us fully alive to the risks and dangers they would encounter whilst crossing it. Still we hoped to hear of their safe arrival as soon as we should drop anchor alongside our consort in Discovery Bay.

The most important news was that a large seam of lignite of the Miocene period had been discovered within about three miles of their winter quarters. They had not been able to utilize this coal, but several large specimens had been carried to the ship--the result of experiments made being that it was reported, for steaming purposes, equal to the best Welsh coal.

Whilst imprisoned by the ice and waiting to escape, our naturalist made an interesting discovery within two hundred yards of the ship. On the beach, about twenty feet above high-water mark, he observed some wood which, on examination, proved to be portions of sledge runners and cross-pieces; also a snow scraper, made from the tusk of a narwhal or walrus, and a large lamp, apparently a piece of schistose rock hollowed out.[1] These relics are the most northern traces of Eskimos yet found. Their position would lead one to suppose that the wanderers had arrived so far north along the shores on the western side of the channel, and from thence crossed over to the opposite Greenland coast; the cliffs to the northward being very steep, and although not actually impassable, great difficulty would be experienced in travelling along their base. This, and the absence of animal life, would readily account for their desire to leave such an inhospitable and sterile land.

On the 7th and 8th of August the ship was subjected to some very severe squeezes. On the latter day a large floe-berg pressed violently against the vessel and forced her on shore, lifting the stern bodily out of the water to a height of about five feet. The noise of the cracking of the beams and the groaning of the timbers was a sound that once heard will never be forgotten. To those below, the crumbling of the pitch in the deck seams sounded like a shower of hail on the upper deck. Fortunately for us the floe-berg was heavy and of deep flotation, and therefore grounded before it had time to cause the destruction of the ship. It was a grand sight to witness some of the neighbouring floe-bergs--great masses of ice from sixty to seventy feet in thickness--turned completely over and swept away by the pack in its irresistible career.

We had no time, however, to indulge ourselves in watching spectacles of such magnificence. Our position was by no means pleasant: any pressure upon the ship, caused by spring tides or otherwise, must inevitably crush her; and the prospect of another winter in the ice began to dawn upon us. There was apparently no escape, as, from our experience of the preceding year, we had cause to believe that, when once the floe-bergs grounded along the coast, they remained immoveable during the whole winter, and here were we forced on shore by a floe-berg which had grounded immediately outside us. Our only chance was to reduce the huge mass of ice by which we were imprisoned, so as to lighten it sufficiently to float and drift away at high water. It was a bold idea; but it was no sooner resolved on than every available working man in the ship, irrespective of rank or station, was busily employed with axe, pick, or chisel in demolishing the obstruction. On the third day, so energetically was the work carried out, that the judicious explosion of a heavy charge of powder immediately under the berg had the effect of floating it away at high water, and the ship was released.

The pack being loose, we succeeded in making good progress, and on the following evening had the very great satisfaction of anchoring alongside the "Discovery," after having been separated from her for nearly twelve months. An interchange of visitors immediately took place. Local news, for want of more important intelligence, was fully and freely discussed, and the routine of the winter and the doings of the sledge parties formed topics of interesting conversation. The prolonged absence of Beaumont and his party acted as a damper upon our spirits, for we could not hide from ourselves the fact that their journey across the strait must be a hazardous one. So uneasy did Captain Nares feel regarding their safety that he determined upon going in search of them, even over to Polaris Bay. Accordingly, on Sunday morning, the 13th of August, having transferred all our sick and helpless hands to the "Discovery," and having our own ship's company supplemented by six men from our consort, we again made a start, but were stopped by heavy ice at the entrance of the harbour, through which it was quite impossible to penetrate. On the following day, to our great delight, we observed a tent pitched on the ice about three miles to the southward of the ship. A relief party was quickly formed, and in a few hours we had the extreme pleasure and satisfaction of welcoming Beaumont and his party on board, none the worse for what they had recently gone through, and almost indignant at all offers of assistance that were made to them. On account of the drifting of the pack over which they had been travelling, their work, during the last three or four days, had been excessively severe. On occasions they were compelled to continue the march for thirty-two and twenty-two consecutive hours without resting.

As the ice still remained packed and impenetrable, we were unable to advance, although more than one unsuccessful attempt was made to push on. On several occasions the dredge was hauled and with good and interesting results. The coal seam was also visited by different parties of officers. It exists in a visible seam on the northern side of a ravine, and is about three hundred yards long and twenty-five high. We were unable to ascertain its depth below the surface of the ground, or its thickness.

We were also very fortunate in finding a large number of vegetable fossils in the surrounding limestone, some of the leaf impressions being very clear and perfect. At the head of the ravine is a magnificent cave, formed by the two sides of the gorge and covered with a roof of frozen snow. This roof is apparently permanent, as when we visited the cave it was precisely in the same condition as when it was first discovered twelve months before! The cave is very large, capable of accommodating easily sixty or seventy men.

During these excursions several butterflies were caught and brought on board as specimens, as also some flies, gnats, and other _diptera_. Many hares were also shot, to the great delight of our doctor, who had been working like a horse in order to bring his patients round.

The scenery in the channel between Bellot Island and the mainland, through which we passed in one of our vain attempts to get south, was very striking: bold cliffs, and hills rising to a height of two thousand feet on either side, intersected by deep ravines and gorges having almost precipitous sides and terminating in bays and little harbours.

On Sunday the 20th, by dint of boring and charging, at the expense, however, of our rudder head, we succeeded in forcing a passage through the ice in Lady Franklin Bay, and into a broad stream of water extending along the coast to the southward, which we fondly hoped would eventually lead us into open water.[2] But navigation in ice-bound seas is indeed uncertain. For on the following day we were compelled to seek refuge inside a land-locked and apparently well-protected and secure harbour. How deceitful was its appearance! Hardly an hour had elapsed after entering this sheltered retreat, before the "Alert" was severely nipped by a heavy floe and forced on shore.

For many hours the ship remained in a very critical position, as the tide receding left her completely high and dry, and listed over at an angle of 25°.

So steep was the bank on which we had been forced, that at low water we were able to walk, "dry shod," from the stem to the main chains, whilst aft the water was over our mizzen chains, and within a short distance of the taff-rail. A good sensational photograph and some sketches were made of the ship in this unpleasant position. Strenuous efforts were, of course, at once made to lighten and float the vessel. The fore part was entirely cleared, and the chain cables brought aft. A bower anchor was laid out astern in order to haul the ship off to.

The manner in which this latter work was performed was both novel and ingenious. A small but heavy piece of ice was secured and brought alongside the ship. On this was placed the anchor, as on a raft. It was then towed by boats to the position decided upon, when the raft was destroyed by exploding a charge of gunpowder immediately underneath it, the anchor, of course, sinking to the bottom.

With such good will did all work, that we had the joy and satisfaction of seeing our good ship afloat, and ready to proceed, in about fifteen hours from the time of the accident taking place. The bay, which was the scene of our mishap, was called Rawlings Bay, after one of our men, who was my sledge captain in all my expeditions. A musk-ox skull and the horn of a reindeer were picked up by Feilden close to where the ship was aground, proving that the neighbourhood is occasionally visited by these animals.

From this time, until the 9th of September, we were engaged in a never-ceasing struggle with the ice, frequently detained for many hours, and rarely advancing more than a few hundred yards during the day. The fast-forming ice reminded us unpleasantly of the near approach of winter, whilst the land had again assumed its wintry covering of snow. On the 22nd of August candles had to be used below at midnight for reading or writing. The young ice was found very tenacious, glueing and cementing the broken fragments of floes together. This caused such an impediment to our advance, although the pack was what is termed loose, that we were on several occasions compelled to relinquish all attempts at penetrating farther, and to secure the ships until a more favourable opportunity should occur. Our stock of coal, too, was getting alarmingly small, and had to be very carefully economized. Without the means of steaming, our chance of escape would, indeed, have been small.

On the 24th we rounded Cape Fraser;[3] on the 27th,[4] so slow was our progress, that we only just succeeded in getting into Dobbin Bay, where we were detained until the 3rd of September. The temperature had fallen to 19°. Last year we were frozen up on the 3rd of September, and here were we on the same date with as low a temperature and many miles to accomplish before we could actually be clear of the ice!

Snow also began to fall heavily, and everything appeared gloomy and inhospitable. As there was now a prospect of our being forcibly detained for another winter in the ice, and as some of our provisions were getting low, on passing the large depôt established in Dobbin Bay on our way up the previous year, we landed and brought off all the tea, sugar, and chocolate, and such other articles as we were likely to require.

Whilst this work was in progress, a large ground seal (_Phoca barbata_) was shot by Hans, of the "Discovery," on which was found a partially healed wound; on further examination, an iron-pointed harpoon with an ivory socket, evidently of Eskimo construction, was discovered imbedded in its blubber. It would have been very interesting if we could have traced, by the manufacture of the instrument, the tribe to which it had belonged and the locality where the wound was inflicted.

One morning, when some little distance from the land, a small fox, of a mottled colour, wandered off to the ship, being attracted towards us either by hunger or curiosity. The officer of the watch, always on the _alert_, soon spied the little animal cruising about amongst the hummocks and shot it. The skin was preserved with the collection of natural history specimens, whilst the body was eaten by us at dinner and found to be delicious. Passing Cape Hawks, and Allman Bay, an inlet which was named after the distinguished President of the Linnæan Society, we continued to push the ships in the direction of open water to the south, which we at length reached.

It was with no small amount of thankfulness that on the 9th of September we emerged from the cold, grim clutches that seemed only too ready to detain us for another winter in the realms of the Ice King, and that we felt our ship rise and fall once more on the bosom of an undoubted ocean swell. It was, indeed, a joyous sensation to look around and see nothing but blue water, and, with the exception of a few straggling bergs, not a single speck of ice in sight. This broad sheet of water had for some time been known to us, having been observed from the summits of various hills that we had ascended, and all our energies of late had been concentrated into reaching it. We had a hard fight, but perseverance and patience ultimately proved triumphant.

On first reaching it, we found it to be coated with a thin layer of young ice, which offered a great deal of hindrance, although it had not the effect of checking us altogether. Our course through this young ice could be distinctly traced for a long distance astern, by a broad lane of water resembling the Suez Canal. At 6 P.M. we passed Cape Sabine, and distinguished our cairn on the top of Brevoort Island apparently untouched. Ahead was Cape Isabella, towards which we steered.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] I have already referred to this discovery in my remarks on the migrations of the Eskimos, at p. 69.

[2] At this time the "Pandora" was cruising in the entrance of Smith Sound, with an impenetrable barrier of ice blocking her way to the northward.

[3] On this day the "Pandora" succeeded in landing a party on Cape Isabella for the second time, searching for a record.

[4] On the 27th the "Pandora" was driven out of Smith Sound by a gale.