Part 3

On 21st June they crossed a pass of over 13,000 feet into the valley of the river known as the Po-Tsangpo, an affluent of the Brahmaputra. It was a stream 80 yards wide, and of such rapidity that its current was one whirl of foam. The natives were in great fear of the Chinese, and it was necessary to go boldly to Showa, the capital, where a letter could be received from the Abor Survey party vouching for their respectability. The Chinese had burned the place, killed the chief, and decapitated the council, and the inhabitants looked askance at the travellers because of the Chinese writing on a tablet of Indian ink which they carried. After three days, however, a letter arrived from the Abor party, which persuaded them that Captain Bailey and Captain Morshead were at any rate servants of the English King.

The explorers now moved north-eastwards down the Po-Tsangpo, finding great difficulty in crossing the tributaries, where the bridges had mostly been destroyed. It was a beautiful land, bright with primula, iris, and blue poppy, and the roads were lined with raspberries. They were now leaving the Po-me country and travelling among a more civilized type of Tibetan, who wore hats like clergymen, made out of yak's hair. After crossing a pass of over 15,000 feet they returned to the main stream of the Tsangpo. This country was under the charge of Tzongpen of Tsela, who came to meet the travellers--an urbane gentleman whose son was at Rugby and a promising cricketer.

They were now on the Tsangpo above the mysterious gorges. They had left behind them the hot valleys of the lower stream and found a dry Tibetan dale, where the chief crops were barley and buckwheat. The river was broad and slow, at one point stretching into a lake 600 yards wide, and its altitude was 9,680 feet. The problem was now to follow it down from that point to the point of their last observation, where the altitude was only 2,610 feet. Somewhere in the intervening tract of gorge it must make the enormous descent of over 7,000 feet.

The first stage was the twenty-two miles down to Gyala, which had been visited in 1878. The stream was in flood owing to melting snows, and the water-side track was difficult. Four days' march below Gyala they reached Pemakochung, the limit of Kinthup's exploration. So far they had passed various small rapids, but nothing in the nature of a fall. A mile below Pemakochung they came on Kinthup's cascade. It proved to be only some 30 feet high and not vertical.

The road now became extraordinarily intricate. Great spurs ran down to the river and blocked the glen, and it was necessary to cut paths through dense forest and thickets of rhododendron to surmount them. There was no track of any kind, and the tributaries descending from the adjacent glaciers were often hard to cross. They ran short of food, and could get no reliable information as to the possibility of their descending the stream. Captain Morshead and the coolies accordingly returned to Gyala, and Captain Bailey, with one man and fifteen pounds of flour, attempted to descend the Tsangpo by the route which a party of Monbas was said to have recently taken. He found the Monbas, but they were wild and suspicious and far from helpful. They refused to take him to their village, and declined to show him the road round the difficult cliffs. Apparently they considered that a traveller who had only one servant, and who carried most of his baggage himself, must be a person of small importance and not worth troubling about. He managed, however, to pick up from them certain news about the lower valley.

He returned to Gyala and rejoined Captain Morshead, and they proceeded to piece their knowledge together. At Gyala a small stream drops from the cliffs, making a waterfall, in which the god Shingche Chogye is concealed. The image of the deity is carved or painted in the rock behind the fall, but it is only possible to see it in winter when there is little water. This, apparently, was Kinthup's fall of 150 feet. Now, why should so meagre a natural feature have attained such celebrity among the Tibetans, for the fame of it had spread far and wide over the country? The reason seems to be that it is unique, because there are no other high falls. Had this deduction been made from Kinthup's evidence, the mystery of the Brahmaputra gorges would have been solved long ago.

The travellers collected their observations on the altitude of the river level and the speed of the current. At Pe, where they had first struck the Tsangpo, the height was 9,680 feet; thirty-four miles below it the river level was 8,730 feet, giving a drop of 28 feet a mile. At Pemakochung the altitude was 8,380 feet, and the drop 24 feet a mile. Three miles farther down the altitude was 8,090, giving a drop of 97 feet a mile, which included the 30-feet drop of Kinthup's fall. At the lowest point Captain Bailey reached in the river bed the altitude was 7,480 feet, giving a drop of 48 feet a mile. The next point on the river which they had visited was Lagung, below the gorges, where they could not take an observation in the river bed; but forty-five miles downstream the altitude was 2,610 feet.

There remained, therefore, some fifty miles of gorge which had not been, and could not be, explored, and the information about it was only indirect. From Lagung upstream to where the Po-Tsangpo joined the Tsangpo, lay a stretch which many natives had visited. The altitude of the junction was estimated at 5,700 feet, which would give a drop of 3,090 feet in the seventy-five miles down to their observation of 2,610 feet--a fall of some 41 feet per mile. Here there was clearly no waterfall. From the junction of the two streams to the point where Captain Bailey turned back was not more than twenty miles, and the drop 1,780 feet, giving a fall of 89 feet a mile. The Monbas whom he met told him that they had hunted on the right bank of the stream throughout this unknown stretch, and that, though there were many rapids, there were no big cascades.

We are not concerned with the rest of the journey of Captain Bailey and Captain Morshead, which took them upstream to Tsetang, where Nain Singh had gone in 1874, and back to India by the wild country of the Bhutan border. Their evidence may be considered to have finally solved the riddle of how the great river breaks through the highest range on the globe. It does it by means of a hundred miles of marvellous gorges, where the stream foams in rapids, but there is no fall more considerable than can be found in many a Scottish salmon river. I am not sure that the reality is not more impressive than the romantic expectation. The mighty current is not tossed in spray over a great cliff, but during the æons it has bitten a deep trough through that formidable rock wall. Curiously enough, the rivers which break through the Himalaya chose the highest parts of the range through which to cut. South of Pemakochung is the great peak of Namcha Barwa, 25,445 feet high; north of it is the peak of Gyala Peri, 23,460 feet. The distance between these mountains is only some fourteen miles, and through this gap, at an altitude of just under 9,000 feet, flows the great river.

III

THE NORTH POLE

THE NORTH POLE

(_Map_, p. 80.)

I

When sceptical people say that Polar exploration has been of no benefit to mankind, it is permissible to think that their judgment is as unsound as their point of view is limited. Not only have Polar explorers added enormously to the scientific knowledge of the world, but they have also materially aided commerce. But even if these voyages had been barren of scientific and commercial results, they would have been infinitely worth making.

For among Polar explorers are many men who must be universally regarded as heroes. No training was more rigorous and dangerous, no work has ever called for more endurance, resource, and courage. A nation which is without its heroes is in a sad plight; a nation which has them and ignores their example can only be looked upon with pity. The spirit of high adventure is one that no country can afford to neglect.

The history of geographical discovery is, in its initial stages, almost solely one of conquest. Men, either for their own or their country's profit--and sometimes for both--went out in search of unknown lands because they wanted to trade with them. Pytheas, who has been described as "one of the most intrepid explorers the world has ever seen," was the first man to bring news of the Arctic regions to the civilized world. He did not pretend to have visited them, but in or about 330 B.C. he set out from Marseilles and journeyed north. During this voyage, which must have lasted for several years, he visited Britain, and then, proceeding to the most northerly point of the British Isles, he heard of an Arctic land called Thule, which at one time of the year enjoyed perpetual day, and at another had to endure perpetual night.

With a leap over a few hundred years we come to Ptolemy, whose influence on geography was almost paramount from the second century to comparatively modern times. No one is more dangerous than a bad cartographer, or more valuable than a good one; but although Ptolemy made many mistakes, he also did such splendid work that it is quite easy to forget them. To him we owe the names of latitude and longitude, and it has been well said of him that he held the extraordinary "distinction of being the greatest authority on astronomy and geography for over fifteen hundred years." Ptolemy's work may have required to be corrected and amplified, but, at least, he gave the world something which was worthy of correction.

In the eighth and ninth centuries the Norsemen became terrors in Europe. "Harold of the fair hair" reigned from 860 to 930 A.D., and these seventy years formed a period of great adventure. During Harold's reign the Norsemen colonized Iceland, and in 983 Erik the Red founded a colony in Greenland, which flourished until the Norwegians ceased to take an interest in it.

Not until the fifteenth century did English seamen begin to turn their attention to the North. They were more or less forced to do so. Portugal and Spain were all-powerful in the East and West, and so England began earnestly to think of discovering a way to Cathay and the Spice Islands by a northern route. But if we were a little slow in beginning to pay attention to the Arctic regions, we have every cause to be satisfied with our work after we had once begun it. The fifteenth century saw considerable activity as regards Scandinavia, but it was not until 1505 that a charter was granted to the Company of Merchant Adventurers, and from that year we can date our real interest in Arctic discovery.

It is well, perhaps, to bear in mind, while thinking of Polar exploration, that there is a marked difference between the two Polar regions. The Arctic is an ocean surrounded by continental lands; the Antarctic is a continental land surrounded by oceans.

In 1553 Sir Hugh Willoughby set out to try and find a north-east passage to the Indies. On this voyage--in which Willoughby lost his life--Novaya Zemlya was discovered, and Richard Chancellor, who took part in the expedition, reached Archangel; and then, travelling overland to Moscow, was received graciously by Ivan the Terrible, the Tsar of Russia. This visit was of importance, because it helped to establish trade between England and Russia.

Competition to find a route northwards to China and the Indies had by this time become acute in Europe, and many bold navigators set out from England. Among the sailors who were maintaining her high record on the seas Sir Martin Frobisher deserves especially to be mentioned. In 1576 he set out, cheered doubtless by knowing that Queen Elizabeth had "good liking of their doings," to find a north-west passage. On three occasions Frobisher voyaged northwards, and he reached Greenland and discovered the strait that was named after him. "He is not worthy," Sir Humphrey Gilbert wrote in the latter part of the sixteenth century, "to live at all who, for fear of danger or death, shunneth his country's service or his own honour, since death is inevitable, and the fame of virtue immortal." Most assuredly our Elizabethan sailors did not shun their "country's service," and Elizabeth herself was the first to appreciate and encourage their enterprise.

In 1585 yet another distinguished explorer, John Davis, embarked upon his career, and during his voyages he made discoveries that "converted the Arctic regions from a confused myth into a defined area." He found several passages towards the west, and thus strengthened the hope of finding a north-west passage; and he also reached "the farthest north," 72° 12' N., some eleven hundred miles from the geographical North Pole.

As yet no one had turned his thoughts to the North Pole itself, but it may truly be said that Davis and men of his calibre were already beginning to prepare the way for the time when it would be reached. For his discoveries, like those of many of the earlier explorers, were both important in themselves and also acted as a guide and incentive to those who followed. In the meantime, Davis had obtained the record for the "farthest north," a record which Great Britain, with the exception of a very few years, continued to hold until 1882.

Many English navigators did great work in maintaining this record, and among them was Henry Hudson, who set out in 1607 with the object of finding a north-west passage to the Indies. Hudson, in this voyage, reached 80° N., and did most valuable work in the Spitzbergen quadrant. It is also reported that two of his men saw a mermaid, which may at least be taken as evidence that they were more than ordinarily observant. Both geographically and commercially, Hudson's voyages were of the first importance. He not only made many discoveries, including that of the river which bears his name, but he also brought back the news that led directly to the establishment of the Spitzbergen whale fishery, an industry that was extremely lucrative to Holland.

In 1615 William Baffin discovered the land that is called after him; and then, for some time, English discovery in the Arctic regions ceased to be noteworthy. Baffin made no less than five voyages to the North, and, scientifically, his observations were permanently valuable to subsequent explorers.

Apart from geographical discovery, these Arctic voyages had so far been a great stimulant to trade. In Greenland, Davis Strait, and the Spitzbergen seas, trade had followed discovery, and what had happened in those parts of the Arctic also took place in Hudson Bay, after the Hudson's Bay Company was formed in 1668. In fact, for the time being, the desire to make geographical discoveries was almost obliterated by the desire to trade.

It is, however, pleasant to note that during the eighteenth century some of our Governments took an intelligent interest in geographical discovery. They offered a reward of £5,000 for reaching 89° N., and £20,000 was offered to any one who could find the North-West Passage. In the earlier part of the eighteenth century the part that the Russians took in Arctic discovery must not be omitted. In 1728 Peter the Great sent out an expedition under the command of Vitus Bering, a Dane, in which Bering Strait and other discoveries were made; and although it is impossible to mention them in detail, the contributions that the Russians made in revealing the New World to the Old were most creditable to them as a nation.

In 1773 Captain Phipps conducted an expedition, which now derives its chief interest from the fact that Horatio Nelson, then a young midshipman, took part in it. "Great," says Sir Clements Markham, "as are the commercial advantages obtained from Arctic discovery, and still greater as are its scientific results, the most important of all are its uses as a nursery for our seamen, as a school for our future Nelsons, and as affording the best opportunities for distinction to young naval officers in time of peace." And it is incontestably true that many of our finest sailors have learnt their trade in the severe school of geographical exploration.

With the advent of the nineteenth century many expeditions were sent to the Far North. The desire actually to reach the North Pole itself did not enter the thoughts of these courageous navigators, the main object of their voyages being either to find the North-West Passage round North America to the Indies, or the North-East Passage round Asia. Nevertheless, each one of these voyages added to the store of knowledge that was being accumulated, each expedition solved some of the mysteries of the North and prepared the way for the solution of what came to be considered the greatest mystery of all.

In 1819 Sir Edward Parry embarked upon the first of the Arctic voyages which have made his name famous in the annals of exploration. A sailor by profession, Parry was happy in possessing the qualities that fitted him to lead men. During his first expedition, the prize offered by the English Government to the first navigator who passed the 110th meridian was won. Parry and his party spent a winter in the Arctic--a winter which, thanks to their leader's careful preparations, was passed without mishap; and then, when the winter was over, an expedition to explore the interior of Melville Island was made. Thus Arctic travelling was inaugurated by Parry.

Other successful voyages under the same leadership followed, and when, in 1827, our Admiralty began favourably to consider the idea of getting as near as possible to the Pole by way of Spitzbergen, Parry was naturally chosen to command the expedition. So, for the fourth time, Parry sailed northwards, and having reached the north coast of Spitzbergen, he found a good harbour for his ship, the _Hecla_, and left her there. The explorers had taken specially-fitted boats with them, and these they hoped to be able to haul over the ice. The summer, however, had begun to break up the floes, and in consequence the travellers had constantly to take the steel runners off the boats so that the stretches of open water could be crossed. Moreover, the floes that they did find seemed to resent such treatment, for most of them were small and bestrewn with most obstructive hummocks. Not until they had been pulling and hauling for nearly a month did they meet with large floes, and by that time the southerly drift of the ice was in full swing. However hard Parry and his men pulled, they found that the drift was as strong as they were--or stronger. After terrific labour Parry reached 82° 45', a higher latitude than any reached during the next fifty years. It was a great attempt by a man whose devotion to his duty is beyond all praise.

Before we come to the most tragic story in the history of Arctic exploration, reference must be made to the discoveries of Captain John Ross. In his first expedition to the North, Captain Ross was not successful; but in his second voyage, when he was accompanied by his nephew, James C. Ross (who afterwards gained distinction in the Antarctic), the magnetic North Pole was discovered, and the British flag fixed there in 70° 5' 17" N., and 76° 16' 4" W. Ross's expedition spent four consecutive winters in the Far North, discovered over two hundred miles of coastline, and returned with a bountiful crop of scientific knowledge.

We may well admire the love of adventure and the desire to make geographical and scientific discoveries which induced these constant expeditions to parts of the world that cannot possibly be called inviting. Honour was, and is, due to the men who undertook them, but to John Franklin's memory especial honour is paid, for his name is connected with both heroism and tragedy.

As a boy, Franklin, in spite of his father's opposition, determined to be a sailor. At the age of fourteen he was in the _Polyphemus_ at the battle of Copenhagen, and subsequently he was present at the battle of Trafalgar. Peace, then as always, brought unemployment for sailors with it, and at the age of twenty-nine Franklin found himself unwanted in the Navy. When, however, the Admiralty decided, in 1818, to send expeditions to find the North Pole and the North-West Passage, Franklin was chosen to command the _Trent_. This ship was totally unsuited for such a task, and owing to official economy--not to say parsimony--Franklin had to return without achieving any success.

In the following year he was again sent out with orders to explore the northern coast of Arctic America, and "the trending of that coast from the mouth of the Coppermine eastwards." Not until 1822 did this expedition of discovery come to a close, after 5,550 miles had been covered by water and land.

The tale of its adventures, extraordinary as they were, is only the preface to Franklin's life as an explorer. So famous indeed was he, that when, in 1844, he returned from Tasmania, where he had been Governor for seven years, he was offered the command of an important Arctic expedition. At this time he was nearly sixty years old, but he was anxious to resume his exploratory work, and in 1845 he sailed with the _Erebus_ and the _Terror_ (ships that had already won their laurels under Sir James Ross in the Antarctic).

In the hope of finding the North-West Passage, so much coveted and so long concealed, Franklin was instructed to try a route by Wellington Channel, if ice did not block the way. The channel was found to be clear, and the explorers made their way up it, until they reached 77° N. Then their advance was blocked by ice, and they turned south and found winter quarters off Beechey Island. All, so far, had gone well, and when the ships were released from the ice at the end of the winter, hopes of further success must have run high. But presently a mistake was made that had fatal results--a mistake due to an error of the chart-makers.

For some time the ships sailed gaily on, important discoveries being made from day to day. Then came the fatal decision. All was open to the south. "If they had continued on their southerly course, the two ships would have reached Bering Strait. There was the navigable passage before them. But, alas! the chart-makers had drawn an isthmus (which only existed in their imagination) connecting Boothia with King William Land. They altered their course to the west, and were lost."* Soon the ships were surrounded by a dense ice-pack, and were dangerously imprisoned. In the spring of 1847 travelling parties were sent out, and one of them, under Graham Gore's command, discovered a North-West Passage, and consequently proved the connection between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. When the parties returned Franklin was seriously ill, and he died on 11th June, 1847.

* Markham's _The Lands of Silence_ (Cambridge University Press).

No more beautiful epitaph has ever been written than the one in Westminster Abbey, which Tennyson wrote in honour of John Franklin, his uncle-in-law:--

"Not here! The cold North hath thy bones, and thou, Heroic sailor soul, Art passing on thy happier voyage now Towards no earthly pole."

A terrible winter for this gallant band of explorers followed. For months and months the ice remained impenetrable, and at last the ships had to be abandoned. Even if the _Erebus_ and the _Terror_ could have been freed from the ice, it was more than doubtful if they would float, so battered were they by their long, slow drift. Food was both inadequate in quantity and poisonous in quality. Twenty-two officers and men died during that winter of horror; the rest were so weak from privations that, although they knew their only chance was to retreat by Back's Fish River, none of them had the strength successfully to undertake such a march.