CHAPTER XXII.

THE NORTHERN DIVISION—TRAVELLING IN APRIL.

The different sledge parties having branched off, as related in the preceding chapter, I must request my readers to follow the fortunes of the northern division, which was under my command.

The serious obstacles that so persistently impeded our progress were immediately encountered. The retreating forms of our comrades, who had assisted us thus far, were scarcely out of sight before we were busily engaged in constructing a road along which to drag our sledges. These roads were rendered necessary in consequence of the rugged nature of the ice over which we had to travel, the floes being of the smallest dimensions as regarded superficial area, and surrounded by broad fringes of squeezed-up hummocks. The hummocks proved most formidable impediments to our advance. No sooner had we congratulated ourselves upon successfully accomplishing a passage through one line of these obstacles, than another, and perhaps a more ragged and apparently impassable hedge, appeared in front of us. It seemed as if a terrible conflict had been fought between these ponderous masses of ice, which had so shattered and split them up as to suggest to us the idea that they resembled a tempestuous broken sea suddenly frozen.

To make any advance at all, pickaxes and shovels were in constant requisition, and with these implements we succeeded in hewing and cutting a road for our sledges, by which we were able to make a snail-like progress. The roughness of the road was not our only difficulty. Around and about the hummocks the snow had drifted to such a depth that the men were frequently floundering in it up to their waists, and passages through this had to be cleared with shovels before the sledges could be dragged on. Occasionally the sledges would have to be unpacked and lightened considerably before they could be dragged through this deep soft snow.

We, at first, attempted to console ourselves with the idea that this irregular and broken sea of ice was only caused by our proximity to the land; and that we should, as we advanced in a northerly direction, meet with smooth level floes, on which we should be able to travel along merrily, and so make up for the time expended in struggling through the hummocks.

How delusive proved our hopes and anticipations the sequel will show! The belts of hummocks that separated the floes varied from twenty yards to half a mile in breadth, and were from fifteen to fifty feet in height.

Road-making, as we called it, was a work of daily, I may say of constant, occurrence. We regarded our pickaxes with great affection, and they were consequently treated with the utmost tenderness and care. Any mishap to them would have been indeed a serious misfortune, as we should have nothing to supply their place, and would therefore have been in a predicament in which we could neither advance nor return. The anxiety with which they were watched may therefore be imagined.

Instead of giving simply a brief rÉsumÉ of our sledging life, it will, I think, be more interesting to follow the sledge parties day by day in their arduous march to the northward, and their still more irksome and wearisome return journey. To do this, it will be as well to extract portions from my daily journal, avoiding repetition as much as possible, and commencing on the day after that on which we were left by our supporting sledges to prosecute our undertaking.

April 12th.—A most gratifying and unexpected change of weather enabled us to pass a comparatively comfortable night, the temperature inside our tent being as high as +16°. Hitherto it has stood at, and generally far below, zero. With the thermometer in the air registering a few degrees below zero, it is just possible to keep ourselves warm enough inside our tents to sleep; but with a temperature ranging from -35° downwards sleep is almost out of the question.

In order to keep the sun as much as possible at our backs during the time we were on the march, we adopted the system of travelling, whilst on our outward journey, between noon and midnight. The cooks were, as a rule, called at about half-past nine in the forenoon, and the sledges were generally on the move about half-past eleven. This time of travelling was selected more with a view to the prevention of snow blindness than anything else.

After breakfast the road-makers, six in number, were advanced for the purpose of constructing a road through an ugly fringe of hummocks on the southern side of which our camp had been pitched; the rest of the party being employed in striking the tents, packing and bringing on the sledges, one by one, as far as the road was practicable. Being a bright sunny day the tent robes and other gear were triced up to the boats’ masts and yards to dry. The sun was powerful enough to extract the moisture from the woollen substance, which would freeze, forming a sort of hoar-frost that could with ease be brushed or shaken off.

On these bright clear days, the snow on the surface of the floes over which we were journeying was so highly crystallized that it sparkled and glittered with the most brilliant iridescent colours. The ground upon which we trod appeared to be strewn with bright and lustrous gems, of which the most prominent were diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. It was indeed a fairy-like scene; but our duties were too matter of fact to admit of our indulging for any time in romance or sentiment.

A glance at our comrades would quickly recall us to the reality of our situation. Their dirty and rough-clad forms were strangely at variance with the scene of enchantment that might be conjured up. With faces scarified by the combined action of sun and frost, and black with smoke, with the tips of their fingers senseless from repeated frost-bites, with sore shoulders and aching limbs, the wearied sledgers pursued their way, not altogether indifferent to the beauties that surrounded them, but careless of the difficulties and discomforts they encountered.

During the afternoon, being about three miles from the nearest land, we observed, to our surprise, the fresh traces on the snow of a little lemming! It is hard to tell what inducement this little animal could have had for straying so far away from the land, and consequently from its means of obtaining the wherewithal to support life!

We passed through a dense mass of hummocks, emerging, eventually, on a heavy floe of “ancient lineage,” whose surface was undulating, and adorned with veritable “ice-mountains” some twenty feet in height. These were generally of a rounded form and of a smooth surface, and appeared to be the result of long and continuous snow-drift. We camped on the northern edge of the floe, the men being employed in cutting a road through the hummocks whilst supper was preparing, in readiness for our start on the morrow.

A journey through, and over, hummocks is the most unsatisfactory kind of travelling that can possibly be imagined. “Standing pulls” must be the order of the day, and the incessant “one, two, three, haul” is constantly heard. The trudging backwards and forwards to drag the different sledges to the front along the same road is decidedly monotonous; but this had no effect on the cheerfulness and general good spirits of the men, who were all actuated by the same zealous desire to do their best. The temperature all day had been delightful, ranging from 8° to 20° below zero.

April 13th.—A dull, cloudy day, with the sun shining at intervals, and the temperature as low at one time as -33°. We cut a road and dragged the sledges through a fringe of hummocks about two hundred yards in breadth, then crossed a fine large floe that afforded us capital travelling for nearly a mile in a northerly direction, then through another long fringe of large and troublesome hummocks, until we were completely brought to a standstill by a mass of enormous fragments of ice, piled up in an irregular form to the height of from twenty to thirty feet. Through this obstacle we resolved to cut a road: in fact, no other alternative offered. It was a long and tedious job; but with such a hearty good will did the men work that we had the satisfaction of dragging our sledges over a very rough road and encamping for the night with the difficulties in our rear. Parr with pickaxe and shovel was a first-rate “navvy,” and worked like a horse.

Our routine was for one or other of us to select the best route through the hummocks. This being done, one, with a gang of road-makers, proceeded to construct the road, whilst the other, with the remainder of the party, dragged the sledges on one by one. Great care had to be taken that our boats, on the exceedingly rough road over which they were dragged, did not sustain any injury. Sometimes it was a very delicate matter, and one that required skilful handling, after the sledges had been hauled up to the top of the hummocks, to lower them down in safety on the opposite side. The ease and facility with which the ice yielded to the dexterous blows of the pickaxes, wielded by strong and determined men, was almost incredible. Apparently impenetrable masses of ice vanished before their efforts, and left a fairly good road by which we advanced.

April 14th.—Last night our sleeping-bags were frozen so hard that it was with great difficulty we succeeded in getting into them. Even when this was accomplished, the warmth we derived from them was inappreciable, and we felt more as if we were confined in a wooden box or coffin than in a woollen bag! My blanket wrappers, although I laid on them all night, were so stiff this morning that I had the utmost difficulty in bending them over my feet! Being Good Friday, our prayers in the morning were of longer duration than usual.

Crossed an old floe having a hard incrustation on its surface—not sufficiently strong, however, to bear the weight either of the men or the sledges; consequently at every step we broke through, and would then sink deeply into soft snow. This was not only very laborious but very aggravating work.

On portions of the road, where these patches of level soft snow occurred, the flat-bottomed taboggans, used in the Hudson Bay Company’s territory, would be suitable. But the greater part of the road was over heavy broken-up hummocks and hard fragments of ice, lying at all kinds of angles; on the whole we found the eight-men high-runner sledge which we used, and which was originally designed by Sir Leopold McClintock, infinitely preferable. Long experience has conclusively proved its excellence. It was the kind of sledge with which the North West Passage was discovered and the Parry Islands explored, and with us it once more did most admirable service in many directions, and over the roughest ground imaginable.

The temperature was too low to allow us to stop for the purpose of obtaining a meridian altitude, which we invariably get at noon. There was an unpleasant nipping breeze from the northward; our faces, more especially our noses, being “touched up” constantly by Jack Frost.

The floes off Cape Joseph Henry, although actually smaller than most of those we have crossed, were far more heavy. In all probability they are reduced in size by great and continual pressure off the cape. The wind freshening, and the weather becoming very thick, we halted an hour earlier than we otherwise would have done.

John Shirley, one of my sledge crew, complained of pains in his ankles and knees. On examination they appeared slightly swollen, and I treated him according to the instructions laid down for the guidance of the sledging officers by our doctor.

Although at the time ignorant of the fact, this was the first appearance of that dreadful disease, scurvy, which shortly afterwards laid its destroying hand upon us, and reduced us to such a helpless and prostrate state. From this day we were deprived of the services of Shirley, who gradually but surely got worse, and was never again able to render the slightest assistance even in the most minute details of our routine.

April 15th.—A N.W. gale, with an exceedingly low temperature, and an impervious snow-drift, rendered travelling quite out of the question.

Extreme wretchedness, I might almost say abject misery, was our lot to-day.

We appeared to receive little benefit, in the way of warmth, from our tent robes, and the temperature inside our tent, with our whole party huddled close together, was 22° below zero! Gladly would we have pushed on had it been possible. A hard day’s work, even amongst the most impenetrable hummocks, would have been infinitely preferable to our present forced detention and inactivity. Unable to stir outside the tent, on account of the blinding snow-drift that was whirling around, too cold to read or even to sit up in one’s bag for the sake of conversation, tent robes and bags frozen hard—a combination of these evils renders the position of those who suffer from them an unenviable one indeed. It is a remarkable fact that we this day experienced a lower temperature during a gale of wind than we did during the whole winter at the “Alert’s” winter quarters. This appears to point conclusively to the fact that there can be no large body of water either to the northward or westward of us.

The thermometer invariably rose during the southerly gales experienced in the winter, and this was very naturally attributed to the wind blowing across a large expanse of open water.

April 16th.—Easter Sunday.

The gale, although it had moderated, was still blowing too fiercely to allow us to proceed. We were therefore compelled, sorely against our inclination, to remain encamped. We unanimously came to the conclusion that this was by far the most wretched and miserable Easter Sunday that we had ever spent. Forty-eight hours in a gale of wind, tied up in a bag off the most northern known land, with a temperature 67° below freezing point, is certainly not the most pleasant manner that any one would select for passing an Easter Sunday!

For forty hours I did not have the slightest feeling in my feet, and could not really declare that I was in possession of those useful members—as for sleep, under the circumstances, that was quite out of the question. In spite of the cold and dismal surroundings, we did not neglect last evening the usual Saturday night’s toast, on receipt of our small allowance of grog. It most decidedly had the effect of cheering us up considerably, and for the time assisted in making us forget the discomfort of our position. At half-past four in the afternoon, the wind having subsided, it was determined to make a move. We felt that anything was preferable to the tedium and dreariness of our compulsory detention. The tents were accordingly struck, sledges packed, and the march renewed. Shirley, being unable to walk, was placed in his sleeping-bag, rolled up in the tent robes, and tied securely on one of the sledges. This seriously added to the weight to be dragged, whilst it also reduced our motive power; however, we hoped that by thus giving him complete rest, he would the more rapidly recover and resume his place on the drag-ropes.

Alas! how little did we think that the fearful and wasting disease, the premonitory symptoms of which were now exhibited, would insidiously steal its way amongst us, and assailing the party one by one reduce us so disastrously as to bring us to the verge of destruction!

We cut our way through a hedge of hummocks about one-third of a mile in breadth, and then on to a floe apparently of great thickness; but, unfortunately for us, not more than three hundred yards across. Between these stupendous floes we would occasionally meet with some young ice amongst the hummocks which, when it trended in the right direction, would afford us easy travelling; but these leads were never of any extent.

The gale had accumulated the snow in deep drifts, which rendered the task of dragging the sledges harder than ever. Our progress was necessarily slow. We halted and encamped at half-past ten. The men appeared to be more easily fatigued after lying so long idle in their bags than if they had performed a hard day’s work. Our camp this evening was pitched almost abreast of Cape Joseph Henry, though some miles off it.

When viewed from seaward, or more correctly speaking, “iceward,” this headland presents a bold and rugged appearance, rising nearly perpendicular from base to summit, to a height of about eight hundred feet, whence the land recedes, gradually ascending until it culminates in a peak about three or four hundred feet higher. It appears to be of limestone formation, with regular stratifications dipping to the southward at an angle of 6° to 10° from the horizontal. The Cape itself terminates in a knife-like edge from summit to base, in shape very much resembling the ram-bow of an ironclad. Conical Hill, situated immediately to the southward of Cape Joseph Henry, when observed on the same bearing, presents more the form of a hog’s back than a cone, but possesses the same bold, rugged aspect. It is about the same height as the peak surmounting Cape Joseph Henry, and is of the same formation; but, unlike its neighbour, the strata dip to the southward at an angle of about 6° or 10° from the vertical, giving it altogether a rather distorted appearance. There is a great deal of similarity in the surrounding hills, all being more or less coniform, and of an altitude of from one to two thousand feet.

April 17th.—Shirley no better this morning, and to add to our troubles, George Porter, one of Parr’s sledge crew, was also suffering in the same manner from swollen and puffy knee joints.

Two men hors de combat out of our little force diminishes our strength very materially, and as they have both to be carried on the sledges it adds seriously to the weights to be dragged. The morning was bright and sunny, with a temperature as high as 24° below zero, so we congratulated ourselves that it was now really on the turn, and that we should no longer encounter any more extreme cold. The men take kindly to their snow-goggles, and never attempt to take them off whilst on the march—perhaps my expatiating largely on the excruciating agony and acute pain inseparable from snow blindness, is in some way connected with their submissiveness in this respect! Alfred Pearce was, yesterday, rather severely frost-bitten on one of his fingers; but circulation was rapidly restored, and to-day, with the exception of a little soreness, he suffers no ill effects from it. The travelling to-day was nearly a repetition of what we had hitherto been encountering: large masses of ice thickly compacted together, squeezed up into every conceivable, but indescribable, shape and form to a height of about twenty-five feet; but these had to succumb to the strenuous exertions of Parr and his indefatigable road-makers.

Energy and perseverance performed wonders. The men worked uncommonly well—my only fear was that they would overtax their strength. Poor fellows! they get little rest during the day, for even when we halt for lunch, they are compelled to be continually on the move to keep their blood in circulation. To sit or lie down for any length of time would be fatal. No wonder, then, they are fatigued at the end of the day’s work.

Some of the floes over which we travelled to-day were of greater thickness than others, and it was no unfrequent occurrence for us to drop a height of six or seven feet from the top of one floe to the surface of another; or, vice versÂ, to have to haul the sledges up the same height. This was no easy work with our heavily laden sledges and boats. Snow commenced falling at 3 P.M., and continued all night.

April 18th.—The old story last night with our sleeping-bags! So hard were they frozen that it occupied us a considerable time before we could struggle into them. The night, however, was not so cold, and we succeeded in sleeping pretty comfortably. Before starting this morning we lightened our heavy sledge by making a redistribution of the weights on all three sledges. By these means we hoped to be able to get on a little better.

We found the helmet worsted caps that were so kindly given to us by the Empress very warm and comfortable for sleeping in. They are much appreciated by the men, who call them “Eugenies,” and they constantly refer with gratitude to her Majesty’s kind and thoughtful present.

The travelling to-day was excessively heavy, in consequence of the unevenness of the floes and the deep soft snow with which they were covered. After lunch we arrived at and crossed some “veritable palÆocrystic floes”—apparently of gigantic thickness, and studded with numerous rounded snow hillocks; the height of some of the latter being as much as thirty feet above the surface of the floe. In crossing one of these, the “Victoria” sledge capsized, but was soon righted without damaging either the sledge or the boat, or injuring the invalid who was lashed on top, and who received only a slight shaking. As we proceeded northwards we opened out the land to the westward, and a large bay which has since been called Clements Markham Inlet. A S.E. breeze sprang up in the evening shortly before we halted, which, strange to say, sent the temperature down rapidly to -33°, and we had, in consequence, to be cautious about frost-bites.

April 19th.—A fine clear day. Our bags last night were rendered a little more habitable by having been exposed during the day to the heat of the sun, which was sufficiently powerful to extract the greater part of the moisture which had been absorbed by them. Our plan is on fine days to suspend as much as we possibly can from the masts and yards of the boats, and to spread the gear out over the sledges, so that it may dry as we travel along. This answers admirably and enables us to pass more comfortable nights.

After toiling hard for three and a half hours, during which time we had advanced the sledges barely a quarter of a mile, I came to the determination to abandon our largest boat. It was heart-breaking to witness the men slaving in their endeavours to drag on the heavy sledge and boat—to see the continual standing pulls, the incessant “one, two, three, haul,” and no result.

I did not arrive at this decision until after very mature deliberation. My conviction was that amongst such ice as that over which we were travelling, should a disruption occur, our boats would be of little service to us, except as a means of ferrying from one floe to another. For this purpose I retain the smaller boat.

Leaving the boat in as conspicuous a position as possible, with her mast stepped and yard triced up, and having obtained a round of angles in order to fix her position, so as to facilitate our finding her on the return journey, the march was resumed, every one well pleased at being rid of the incubus, as the large boat was always regarded. We travelled over deep and uneven snow ridges, and experienced great difficulty in getting from one floe to another, on account of the perpendicular drop. Before halting we got on to some young ice amongst the hummocks, along which we rattled gaily, actually performing a distance of about half a mile in something like two hours! This is good work for us. It must be remembered that we have to advance three sledges, and to do this we have to walk over the same road five times!

If our invalids would only show some symptoms of improvement we should have more hope of reaching a higher latitude; but at present they compensate in weight and loss of power for the abandonment of the boat. I regard each man carried as about 200 lbs. extra weight, and the loss of their services on the drag-ropes is about equal to another 200 lbs. weight to be added—therefore the two invalids reckon as much as 800 lbs., exactly equivalent to the weight of the deserted boat! So long as they remain ill, we gain nothing upon the actual weights dragged before their sickness commenced. Instead of their getting better, we have the prospect of an increased sick list, for this evening Alfred Pearce was compelled to fall out from the drag-ropes, suffering from a badly swollen ankle, and exhibiting in fact the same symptoms as the other men.

April 20th.—This morning we were unable to make a start in consequence of the thickness of the weather. Snow was falling slightly, but the fog was so dense that it was impossible to see the length of the sledge ahead. As I had brought with me one of Dickens’s works, “The Old Curiosity Shop,” I read aloud to the men, who were much interested in the story.

By 2 P.M., the weather having cleared slightly, we determined to push on and find our way through the fog and hummocks as best we could. The snow was very deep and the hummocks appeared to be interminable. The task of selecting a road was by no means easy—nothing to be seen but hummocks in every direction. At eight o’clock, the fog lifting a little, we succeeded in extricating ourselves from our difficulties, and crossing a large heavy floe got on to a lead of young ice which gave us good travelling. Although this young ice enabled us to travel quicker, and rendered the work of dragging easier, still I was sorry to see it, as I was rather apprehensive that the pack might break up earlier than we anticipated, and so place us in an exceedingly awkward predicament. We halted and camped at half-past ten, having (considering the lateness of our start) performed a fair day’s work.

April 21st.—A keen piercing wind from the northward. Travelling much the same. Although the temperature was only 17° below zero, the cold was more intense than we had yet felt it since leaving the ship. The wind seemed to cut us in two, and was the cause of numerous superficial frost-bites. One man, Thomas Simpson, was rather severely frost-bitten in the big toe, which was, however, quickly attended to and brought round.

Our greatest enemies, whilst crossing a floe of any extent, were the numberless cracks and fissures in the ice, radiating in all directions and treacherously concealed by a covering of snow. Into these we frequently fell, and as some of them were of great depth it seemed almost miraculous that we escaped without a fractured limb! These cracks must be produced either by enormous pressure or intense cold.

April 22nd.—The wind blew in heavy squalls last night, and continued fresh this morning; but as we all dreaded a longer detention in our tent we resolved to push on at all hazards.

It was painful to witness the efforts of the poor fellows in their endeavours to protect their faces from the cold cutting wind as they plodded along, dragging the heavily laden sledges; but they seemed cheerful enough, and treated the numerous frost-bites that appeared on their cheeks as rather a good joke than anything else. The sun peeped out for a few moments during the afternoon; but a heavy mist hung over the land, entirely obscuring it from our view. The floes over which we travelled to-day were more level than any we had yet crossed, and infinitely larger; but as a set-off against this, we found the snow very deep, which rendered the dragging excessively laborious. Few hummocks adorned the edges of these floes. They appeared to have come into contact with each other in a most amicable manner, and then immediately united before any pressure could be exerted, so as to form the immense hedges of heaped-up masses of ice that have hitherto been our great bugbear. One floe crossed to-day was estimated at about a mile and three-quarters in length, and about six miles in circumference.

April 23rd.—Progressing but slowly. The travelling was very heavy, through deep soft snow, and we were delayed considerably by being obliged to make roads over broad belts of heavy hummocks.

We camped for the night on the verge of a floe, with enormous hummocks squeezed up together immediately in front. The prospect of advancing was not cheering! A S.E. breeze, springing up in the afternoon, sent the temperature down suddenly to -24°. Our invalids did not appear to be improving, and we were rather puzzled at some of their symptoms.

April 24th.—The greater part of the day was employed in cutting a road through a perfect sea of hummocks. They appeared to be interminable. From the highest we could see nothing like a floe, nothing but an uneven range of massive and shapeless blocks of ice. The road-making was very hard and very cold work, and the men had to be relieved pretty often with the tools.

Skill is of more avail at this sort of work than brute force. A skilled workman will soon demolish a large hummock, on which a strong but inexperienced man is wasting all his energy and strength in fruitless blows.

We had the satisfaction to-day of crossing the eighty-third parallel of latitude,1 and of knowing that we were the first party of men that had ever reached such a high position. The wind to-day, although decidedly unpleasant, was of some service, for being from the southward we were able to make sail on our sledges and thus utilize the otherwise unwelcome breeze.

April 25th.—A beautiful day, but with a low temperature. A slight breeze from the eastward reminded us that we possessed noses. These latter appendages have been voted decided nuisances, and could easily be dispensed with whilst sledging! The travelling to-day was a slight improvement on our preceding day’s work. Indeed at one time we were able to advance our two light sledges “single banked,” that is with their own individual crews, instead of employing both crews to drag on one sledge at a time; but this was only for a very short distance. The snow was very deep and of a tenacious consistency, clinging to the sledge runners and thereby seriously impeding our progress. So powerful were the rays of the sun this afternoon that my thermometer, when exposed to them, rose rapidly from -17° to -3°. At 6 P.M. I observed faint parhelia showing prismatic colours. We were delayed towards the end of the day by a broad belt of hummocks, through which a road had to be cut. The large hummocks passed to-day, although smooth and rounded on the top and on one side, were precipitous on the other and were fully thirty feet high. Some of them appeared like isolated fragments in the centre of a floe, and resembled the large grounded floe-bergs in the vicinity of the “Alert’s” winter quarters. They were undoubtedly portions of the floe which had been broken off and squeezed up under irresistible pressure.

April 26th.—Temperature to-day as high as -2°. For the first time, since we have been away, were we able thoroughly to enjoy our lunch. On account of the increased warmth, our bacon was more palateable, and we could throw our wearied forms on the soft snow and discuss our pint of tea without running the risk of having our toes frost-bitten. The sensation of possessing feet was a novel and delightful one. Several of the men have of late been attacked by violent bleedings of the nose; but this, in all probability, is due to the rise of temperature. No improvement in our travelling—still the same old story—hummocks and snow-drifts, snow-drifts and hummocks. So dense were the latter that, when we halted for the night, it really seemed as if we had arrived at “the end of all things;” for in front of us was an apparently impassable sea of hummocks extending north, east, and west as far as the range of vision. A dismal prospect, indeed! But we did not despair, and still hoped we might cut our way through these obstacles, and emerge upon floes along which we should have little difficulty in advancing.

April 27th.—A hard day’s work! Road-makers incessantly employed, and the sledges “double banked” the whole day, progress being necessarily slow. Our invalids showed no signs of amendment, indeed two others exhibited symptoms of the same disease; for such it appears to be.

Another great misfortune that happened was that both our shovels came to grief—the handles breaking off at the junction between the wood and iron. We, however, succeeded in “fishing” and thus rendering them serviceable. We should be in a sorry plight if any accident happened to our pickaxes as well as to our shovels. As an instance of the amount of walking we had to perform, I may mention that to-day I had, of necessity, to cross the same floe, on which the snow was knee-deep, no less than thirteen times, “and didn’t I hate that blackguard floe!”

April 28th.—The temperature actually rose as high as +2°! This is the first day that we have registered the thermometer above zero! It is a decided improvement.

Last night, inside my tent, the temperature was as high as 33°, and, in spite of a hard day’s work, we were all busily employed, after supper was over, in some way or another. A couple were splicing lanyards in their drag-belts; one was tailoring; another repairing his moccasins; one was darning his mitts, and another patching up his stockings with an old blanket wrapper; whilst I was both reading aloud and dressing and bandaging my patients’ legs. All were smoking except myself. The effect in a small confined tent may be imagined!

Two of the men, who are not tobacco smokers, smoked what they called “herb” tobacco, which diffused a rather pleasing aroma, and served to deaden the unpleasantness of the tobacco smoke. It is composed of various dried aromatic herbs, and is, I believe, recommended by the faculty for many disorders.

The travelling was as bad as ever—through heavy hummocks and deep snow-drifts. We had the misfortune to capsize the sledge, on which was one of the invalids; but a slight delay was the only inconvenience caused. The weather in the afternoon became very thick, making it extremely difficult to select a route. Everything was of one uniform colour: above, below, behind, and before; all was alike, and it was quite impossible to tell whether we were going up or down hill until a fall would inform us of the fact. To our great surprise, this evening, we came across the traces of a hare in the soft snow. They were apparently recent, and travelling in a southerly direction. The little creature was evidently very tired, as the footsteps appeared to be close together. Poor Pussy! it must have wandered out on the floe and lost itself, for we were quite seventeen miles from the nearest land. I have no doubt, if we had followed up the track, that we should have found the poor little animal lying dead or exhausted under some hummock, famished for want of food.

April 29th.—Small floes surrounded with high hummocks and covered with deep snow, were still encountered, with occasionally a short lead on some young ice that we sometimes met twining round the larger floes. It was difficult to account for the presence of so much young ice, and I can only suggest that, after the disruption in the summer, the pack remained some length of time in a quiescent state, and so allowed the young ice to form between the floes; for if once in motion, no ice of a single season’s formation could withstand the tremendous pressure that would be exerted by these stupendous floes, but must inevitably be pulverized and broken up into small fragments. Our wretched cook last night made our tea and cooked our pemmican with the water obtained from salt-water ice. We all in consequence suffered from intense thirst, without being able to obtain anything to alleviate it.

April 30th.—After halting last night the wind freshened into a gale, the clouds thickened, and snow began to fall heavily, and this continued all day without intermission, so much so that we were unable to make a start. It was impossible to see the length of the sledge ahead, and, surrounded as we were by hummocks, it would have been folly to have attempted a move. We consoled ourselves by saying that the rest would do us good, and that the invalids more especially would benefit by it.

1 By the Act of Parliament (58 Geo. III. cap. xx.) passed in 1818, a reward of £1000 was assigned to any one who should cross the latitude of 83° N. But in 1828 this Act for the encouragement of Polar discovery was repealed by 9 Geo. IV. cap. lxvi.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE MOST NORTHERN POINT EVER REACHED BY MAN.

May 1st.—A fine sunny morning ushered in the month of May, all the more appreciated in consequence of the enforced idleness of the preceding day. The bright sun had a wonderful effect upon us all. It seemed to cheer and invigorate our spirits, whilst it stimulated us to renewed exertions in our endeavours to reach as high a northern latitude as possible. Our invalids, however, were very faint and weak. They exhibited no favourable symptoms of improvement, and were a great clog and drawback to our progress. With our diminished crews we found it hard work to drag the sledges over the rough hummocky road, and through the deep soft snow-drifts that were constantly met. Road-making became a necessary part of the daily routine. Floes of any extent were rarely seen, and we had to thread our way through a perfect labyrinth of piled-up masses of ice, with little or no prospect of its improving. It was a dreary and wild-looking scene: no living thing in sight but our own little party, no colour or object to relieve the eye; nothing but a chaotic and illimitable sea of ice. Sometimes a fog was observed gradually rolling itself towards us, like a large mantle, until we were completely enveloped in its dense folds; when, continuing its onward course, it would roll as rapidly away, leaving a bright luminous band stretching across the horizon in the direction whence it had come.

May 2nd.—Although we had been told that there was not the slightest chance of our being attacked with scurvy, still, from the utter prostration of our invalids, combined with other symptoms, we were almost inclined to believe that we were really afflicted with this dire and wasting disease. It was a terrible idea that forced itself upon us, and one that we were loath to indulge in; but we feared that the symptoms pointed unmistakeably to the fact that this fearful disease, so dreaded by the mariners of old, was gradually but surely laying its hand upon us, completely prostrating those it attacked and rendering them helpless from pain and exhaustion. Parr and myself spoke of it only when we were by ourselves, as we considered it of the utmost importance that the men should remain in ignorance as long as possible, and not even suspect the nature of the disease which had crippled so many of their number. Swollen joints and discolouration of the skin, attended with faintness and great weakness, were the principal symptoms. Great as were the natural difficulties which surrounded us, still, should our surmise be correct, we could not but regard this as the most formidable of all obstacles to our advance that could possibly be imagined. Our only hope was that the five men now afflicted might, through their habits or disposition, have been more prone to the attacks of this insidious disease, than the remainder of our party, who, we hoped, might escape scathless. We camped this evening amidst a pile of hummocks, after one of the hardest day’s work we have yet performed. So rough was the road and so deep was the snow that the sledges could only be advanced by “standing pulls.” This was disheartening, for we had all been cherishing the hope that as we advanced northwards we should find larger and more level floes and less snow; the reverse, however, was the case. Several times did one or other of us disappear through deep rents in the floe, but we always succeeded in scrambling up again unhurt.

May 3rd.—A dull, dark, foggy day rendered it extremely difficult to select our road, and we were occasionally compelled to unload the sledges before they could be dragged through the deep soft snow-drifts which were continually met across our route, making the work all the more hard and distressing. The fog persistently hung over us all day; but was not sufficiently dense to retard our progress altogether, though it materially increased our labours and augmented our difficulties.

May 4th.—Everything appeared to combine against us: weather, snow ice, and sickness! In spite of these evils our tents were struck and a start made; but after advancing for half a mile, which took us exactly three and a half hours to accomplish, we arrived at such a confused heap of hummocks that, with the dense fog prevailing and the falling snow, it was impossible to make any headway. To persevere would have been imprudent. The tents were accordingly pitched, and we consoled ourselves by saying that the rest would be productive of much good to our sick companions, for even those that had to be carried on the sledges could get no rest whilst being dragged and jolted and sometimes capsized over the roughest road imaginable. After lunch, the weather clearing a little, we employed ourselves in cutting a road through an amorphous conglomeration of ice for quite three-quarters of a mile. The pack over which we were travelling appeared to consist of numerous small floes, the largest being barely one hundred yards across at its widest diameter, but the majority much smaller, and each of these floes was surrounded by a mass of hummocks piled up and lying one on top of the other to the height of twenty and thirty feet: the belts of hummocks being from thirty to forty yards in breadth.

Observing one large hummock to be very much discoloured, we found, on approach, that this discolouration was caused by the adhesion of mud or clay, a line of which extended for some distance along the edge of the floe, and gave one the idea that it had rubbed against, or in some manner had come into contact with, the shore. Mud it undoubtedly was, and we bottled a quantity of it for the purpose of subjecting it to microscopic investigation when we should return on board. This was conclusive evidence that a periodical, if not an annual, disruption of the pack occurs, and that these floes, although now at such a distance from the land, had at some time or another been in very close proximity. Moreover, this must have occurred at a recent date, otherwise the summer thaws and the autumn snow would have obliterated all such traces as those we had discovered.

May 5th.—The weather was still as thick as pea-soup! However, we were able to avail ourselves of the road that we had constructed yesterday, and moved our camp so far. To do this, although the road was fairly good and the distance only three-quarters of a mile, the time occupied was four and a half hours! The scene that surrounded our encampment was a dreary one indeed—a desolate, cold, and inhospitable scene: everything of the same uniform colour; no object to relieve the eye; no signs of life; nothing to break the stillness and solitude of this waste of snow and ice. Surely Shelley must have contemplated such a scene when he wrote the following lines:

It was a relief, indeed, to turn from such a scene, and rest the eye upon our little encampment, while listening to the cheerful voices of our men, as, oblivious to hardship and suffering, they sat “yarning,” in their tents, and relating to each other their adventures in other parts of the globe. To our great satisfaction and comfort the temperature was at, or about, zero all day, and for the first time, since leaving the ship, we were able to eat our bacon without in the first place thawing it in our tea!

May 6th.—A fine, bright day; but the rest of yesterday had produced no beneficial results. Our invalids were gradually getting worse; even those who were apparently in good health complained of aching limbs, and exhibited some of the first symptoms of those who were already ailing. Four of the men had also been suffering for the last few days from snow blindness, though not in a severe form. A suger of lead lotion afforded them great relief, and acted as a cure. We had been so far extremely fortunate in our comparative exemption from this painful and irritating affliction. We must attribute our immunity from it to the constant use of our snow-goggles, which were never taken off until the time of “bagging!”

In getting under weigh in the morning, and also when we are encamping, the sick men cause us no little delay; for they are perfectly helpless, and require assistance in every little detail connected with their dressing and undressing, being totally incapacitated from doing anything themselves.

The travelling was very heavy. We appeared to have arrived at a perfect barrier of hummocks, with portions of large floes intermixed, all broken and squeezed up together and covered with deep snow. As far as reaching a high latitude was concerned, we might as well have turned back at once, for our advance must needs be slow; but it was not impossible that this sea of hummocks, with which we were contending, might be the limit of our rough road, and that if we could succeed in struggling through them for a few miles, we might emerge upon large and level floes on which we should be able to travel with greater ease and celerity. Possibly the rugged nature of the ice might be due to the junction of two tides, which, from the commotion produced, would create the obstacles that were impeding our progress. After halting for the night, a party of men were employed road-making whilst the tents were being pitched and supper preparing. All were very glad to get into their bags and rest after the fatigues of the day. A slight air from the S.E. sent the temperature down rapidly to 11° below zero. The minus quantities still prevailed.

May 7th.—We started this morning carrying three of our invalids; but before we had gone many yards it became painfully evident that the two others were quite unable to walk, although the gallant fellows struggled along manfully.

Our only resource was to advance the sledges and then return with them empty to bring on the other disabled sufferers. We had now a third of our little band hors de combat, our strength was diminishing daily, and our weights on the sledges in consequence were increasing. The travelling appeared to be getting, if possible, worse; the hummocks were higher and the snow-drifts deeper. One of the former, on being measured by means of a lead line, was found to be, from the top of the floe to its summit, forty-three feet three inches.

We halted earlier than usual, and, having constructed a pedestal for the magnetic instrument out of solid snow, obtained a series of observations for the inclination of the needle and for the total magnetic force.

May 8th.—We at length forced ourselves to believe that the disease from which our men were suffering was really scurvy. We issued to those who were afflicted daily allowances of lime-juice from the small stock that we brought away with us.

But it was with the utmost difficulty that a small allowance for each could be thawed. The lime-juice was in two bottles. On putting one near the cooking apparatus to thaw, the bottle cracked and fell to pieces. At last I adopted the plan of placing the other bottle between my legs when in the sleeping-bag, and, after a long time, I succeeded in thawing a small quantity. But it is now known that this was of no use; for the state of the lime-juice used by Dr. Coppinger at Polaris Bay showed that the whole volume must be thawed and remixed before it can be used with any advantage. This can only be done in the warmer weather of June or July.

The loss of appetite, depression of spirits, with other symptoms were, we thought, decidedly scorbutic, and we feared, without fresh meat and vegetables, that there was little chance of seeing the sick men on the drag-ropes again during the journey. Being a fine, bright day, the invalids were made to come out and bask in the sun, whilst the rest of the party, with pickaxes and shovels, were engaged in cutting a road through the hummocks. A double series of magnetic observations were obtained, together with sights for latitude, longitude, and variation of the compass. The hummocks amongst which our tents were pitched were of various heights and bulk, from small fragments of ice to huge piles over forty feet high. Some of them consisted of a number of small hummocks squeezed up into one large mass, whilst others were apparently the regular floe-bergs, and, although perhaps of greater bulk, were not quite so high.

Between these hummocks, and consequently along the only road where we could drag our sledges, the snow had accumulated in drifts to a great depth, and this, formed into ridges by the wind, rendered the travelling all the more difficult. Occasionally the tops of these ridges were frozen hard, and it was of no uncommon occurrence to step from deep snow, through which we were floundering up to our waists, on to a hard, frozen piece, or vice versÂ.

Sometimes these ridges were only partially frozen, or covered with a slight crust, just hard enough not to bear our weights, and this made it exceedingly disagreeable and laborious to travel over.

May 9th.—Another beautifully warm day, with the temperature only a degree or two below zero! It was impossible to remain idle on such a day, so we resolved to push on.

Lightening two of the sledges of about half their loads, two of the sick men were placed on them, and these were dragged to the limit of the road made yesterday. Here the tent was pitched, the two invalids placed inside, the sledge unpacked and dragged back. In this manner we succeeded in advancing during the day a distance of about three-quarters of a mile; but so tortuous was our road, and so often had it to be traversed, that to accomplish this short distance we had to walk about seven miles, and this through very deep snow. Rawlings, Simpson, and Ferbrache were complaining of aching limbs, and their legs exhibited slight discolouration.

May 10th.—We advanced the sledges in the same manner as yesterday, accomplishing about the same distance; but so distressing was it to see the exertions of the men in their endeavours to perform a good day’s work, and so painful was it to witness the sufferings of the sick, that I very reluctantly came to the conclusion that our camp this evening must be our most northern one. With five of my little force disabled, and as many more showing decided scorbutic symptoms, it would have been imprudent to persevere farther, however much inclination might prompt such a proceeding. Besides, our provisions must be taken into consideration, and we had only thirty days left to take us back a distance that occupied us forty days to advance, so that our turning back became an imperative necessity. We might, I think, console ourselves with the knowledge that the motto engraved on my flagstaff, and which had been presented to me by my friend and former Captain, now Commodore A. H. Hoskins, had been fully carried out. It was happily chosen, and although the lines are expressed in the first personal pronoun they had reference to the whole party:

We felt that the absence of any greater success could not be attributed either to a lack of energy or of perseverence. It was, however, a bitter ending to all our aspirations, for which even the knowledge of being homeward bound failed to compensate. In justice to my brave companions I must say that no men could have done more under the same circumstances.

May 11th.—Having arrived at the determination of dragging the sledges no farther in a northerly direction, I deemed it desirable to try what good two days’ perfect rest would do for our invalids; and, as there were many useful observations to be taken in this high latitude, I determined to devote the two following days to obtaining them. As soon as breakfast was discussed, a snow pedestal was erected for the instrument for determining the magnetic force and inclination of the needle, a double series of observations being obtained. Sights were taken in order to fix our position both by latitude and longitude, and also for the variation of the compass.1

Some of the men were employed in cutting a hole through young ice that existed between the hummocks in order that we might obtain deep sea temperatures with a Casella’s thermometer, which we had brought with us for the purpose.

In three hours this work was accomplished, the ice being only sixty-four inches in thickness. On attempting to get soundings, to our great surprise we succeeded in finding bottom in seventy-one fathoms (four hundred and twenty-six feet).

At this depth we managed to obtain, by various contrivances that were lowered down, a specimen of the bottom, which was carefully bottled, in order to be carried to the ship, there to undergo microscopic examination.

Wishing to possess any specimens of animal life that might exist in this high latitude, a bread bag, filled with the scrapings of our pannikins and a little pemmican, was lowered to the bottom, and, having been kept there some hours, was hauled up, and to our great joy found to be almost alive with numerous small crustaceans2 and foraminifera; specimens of which were, of course, collected and preserved, being the most northern animal life yet discovered. With our thermometer a series of temperatures was taken at every ten fathoms, whilst the specific gravity of the surface water was also obtained.

Tidal action was apparent; but, with the means at our disposal, we were unable to observe the rise and fall of the tide, or to make any accurate measurement regarding it. Altogether the day was not unprofitably spent.

May 12th.—This 12th of May must always be regarded as an eventful day in the lives of our little party, for it was that on which we had the honour, and no small gratification, of planting the Union Jack on the most northern limit of the globe ever attained by civilized man, or, in fact, so far as our knowledge goes, by mortal man! In order to insure being within four hundred miles of the North Pole, we started immediately after breakfast to the northward, carrying with us the sextant, artificial horizon, and all our colours and banners. We were a party of ten,3 two men being left behind to attend to the wants of the five who were sick, and who were left comfortably settled inside the tents.

The walking was undoubtedly severe, at one moment struggling through deep snow-drifts, in which we floundered up to our waists, and at another tumbling about amongst the hummocks.

Some idea may be formed of the difficulties of the road, when, after more than two hours’ hard walking, with little or nothing to carry, we had barely accomplished one mile!

Shortly before noon a halt was called, the artificial horizon set up, and the flags and sledge standards displayed. Fortunately the sun was favourable to us, and we were able to obtain a good altitude as it passed the meridian, although almost immediately afterwards dark clouds rolled up, snow began to fall, and the sun was lost in obscurity.

We found the latitude to be 83° 20′ 26″ N., or three hundred and ninety-nine miles and a half from the North Pole. The announcement of our position was received with three cheers, with one more for Captain Nares; then all sang the “Union Jack of Old England,” our “Grand PalÆocrystic Sledging Chorus,” winding up, like loyal subjects, with “God save the Queen.”

No words of mine could describe the scene that surrounded us better than those of Coleridge in his “Ancient Mariner”:

For nought else but snow and ice could be seen in any direction.

In spite, however, of these dreary surroundings, suggesting everything that was desolate and miserable, mirth, happiness, and joy seemed to reign paramount amongst our little party. Perhaps there was something in the idea of having been farther north than any other man had hitherto penetrated, that promoted such feelings! Whatever produced them, they were shared in by all. Even the sick, on our return to camp, prostrate and suffering as they were, participated in the general hilarity and rejoicing. They knew their toilsome journey had terminated, and that each day would bring them nearer to their ship and to those supplies that were necessary to save their lives.

On returning to the tents, a magnum of whiskey, kindly sent by the “Dean of Dundee,” for the express purpose of being drunk at our highest northern position, was broached, and for supper we had divided amongst the two sledge crews a hare that had been shot by Dr. Moss on the third day after leaving the ship. Could men in our position want more? Never were the bones of a hare picked so clean! No dog would have benefited much from the scraps remaining from our repast!

Absent friends were duly toasted, and the evening was brought to a close with songs, in which even the invalids joined. All appeared happy, cheerful, and contented.

THE END.

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