Sir George Nares appointed to the Alert and Discovery—Overtaking a Season—Red Snow—The Greenland Mosquito—Peculiarities of Eskimo Dogs—And Dog Whips—Dangers of Kayaks—Advantages of Steam for Polar Regions—An Unpleasant Experience—A Huge Walrus—Arctic Scenery—A Big "Bag"—The Ships part Company—The Alert reaches the Polar Sea—Winter Quarters—The North Pole attempted—Adventures and Sufferings of the Party—Lieutenant Parr's Heroism—Deliverance—The Greenland Attempt—Scurvy and Snow—Repulse Bay—In Pitiable Plight—Lieutenant Rawson to the Rescue.

"Her Majesty's Government, having determined that an expedition of Arctic exploration and discovery should be undertaken, My Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty have been pleased to select you for the command of the said expedition, the scope and primary object of which should be to attain the highest northern latitude and, if possible, to reach the North Pole."

Such was the opening sentence of the official instructions sent to Sir George Nares to take command of the Alert and Discovery, two steam vessels, which constituted the first expedition the British Government had sent to the Arctic regions since the search parties for Sir John Franklin. It was confidently expected that the introduction of the screw steamer into Arctic navigation would result in startling achievements, and those expectations were fully justified.

The two ships, with H.M.S. Valorous in consort with provisions, &c., on board, left Portsmouth on May 29, 1875. They were home again by November 2, 1876, and during the intervening eighteen months they had reached the most northerly point attained by man up to that period, and only since exceeded, on the sea, by the Fram.

No greater contrast can be given of the enormous strides which had been made in navigation during the thirty years which had elapsed since Franklin sailed away on his last and fatal voyage, than the fact that whereas after six weeks' journeying Franklin had barely reached the region of drift ice, in six weeks from the date of leaving Portsmouth the Alert and Discovery were almost in the region of perpetual ice. And all owing to the application of steam to ocean travelling.

The route laid down for the expedition was along the western coast of Greenland and as far through Robeson Channel, which divides Grinnel Land from Greenland, as it was possible to get. Disko Bay, half-way up the Greenland coast, was the spot where the Alert and Discovery were to part company with the Valorous. They entered the Bay on July 4, having had, on the voyage to the North, the peculiar experience of chasing and overtaking a season. When they left Portsmouth at the end of May, summer was well in; but when they arrived at Disko Bay they found that the mild weather which forms the spring had not yet set in sufficiently to melt all the winter's snows. So that they had travelled quicker than the summer, having started after it had begun in England, and arrived in Greenland before it was due.

The early spring flowers were just commencing to bloom on the slopes around Disko, wherever the snow had melted, while higher up on the hills, where the winter's snow still lay, the explorers had an opportunity of looking upon that curious phenomenon, red snow. A minute animalcule (Protococcus nivalis) generates in the frozen covering of the earth, and increases so rapidly and in such vast numbers that it gives to its cold white habitat the hue of its own microscopic body. Another minute creature also breeds in enormous numbers in these bleak regions, the mosquito, which one usually associates with dense tropical jungles and fever-breeding swamps. All along the Greenland coast, wherever there is a pool of fresh water which thaws from the ice-grip, the larvÆ of the mosquito appear in swarms in the spring, and, very shortly after, the full-fledged insect emerges in the utmost vigour of irritating stinging life. As the time is short between the period when the ice melts and when the water freezes again, the Greenland mosquito has to be active to work out his life mission before he is frozen off, and the skin of all visitors to his locality gives ample evidence how well he utilises his opportunities.

In addition to taking on board the surplus stores from the Valorous, the two Arctic ships also took on board teams of dogs for sledging purposes. Fifty-five in all were shipped, their quarters being situated on the main deck, where they were necessarily cramped for room, and, what was worse from their point of view, were unable to get at one another's throats owing to their being chained to bolts. Consequently they kept up a constant chorus of snarls and yaps, varied now and again with a howl as one or another received a remonstrating kick from a sailor.

This interminable uproar was explained by the Eskimo dog driver, who was also taken on board, as being due to the fact that most of the dogs were strangers to one another, and no one was as yet the properly constituted king.

When Captain McClintock purchased a team of dogs from the Eskimo of King William's Land, he had a good deal to learn about their peculiarities; but the people on the Alert and the Discovery, having a great many more dogs than he was able to obtain, had also a great deal more to learn about them. Sir George Nares, in his account of the expedition, gives some particulars which were furnished by his Eskimo dog driver, and these show that the sledge dog is quite as wise as one might expect from Captain McClintock's experiences.

In every team of dogs, one is the king. He holds that position by prowess only, and has to fight and thrash every other dog in the team before he can assume the leadership. When he has once assumed it, he has to keep it by the same means; for revolutions may at any moment occur, through some younger dog aspiring to the ruling position. But while a dog has the position of authority, he exercises his rights with decision, and the remainder of the team cluster round him and support him in emergencies, or lie at his feet in times of leisure. The only one who is allowed to snarl at him without at once being bitten is the queen. She is among her sex what the king is among his; for though she depends more upon him for her prominent position than to her own fighting qualities, she maintains it, when once obtained, by a free use of her jaws upon encroachers.

Consequently, when a number of teams were brought together on the decks of the vessels, all strangers to one another, there was a tremendous amount of fighting in prospect before peace could be granted. Firstly, the kings of the various teams were anxious to tussle for the supremacy; and with the prospect of some of them getting badly mauled, there were several inferiors in each team ready to do battle with their injured monarch, and, when he was disposed of, with one another, for the leadership. But their new masters, instead of letting them all loose to settle their various degrees of authority in their own hereditary fashion, tied them up where they could see and hear one another without exchanging a bite. The kings, naturally warlike and ferocious, could only snap at their inferiors as they bayed in their rage, and the inferiors could only bay in their pain, and so between them the ship's company were kept awake by night and annoyed by day.

When at length opportunity occurred for liberating the dogs and giving them some exercise over the ice, great care had to be taken so as to prevent a wholesale mÊlÉe. Each team, as they were freed from their deck chains, were led on to the ice and made fast to a sledge, two men being in charge of each sledge for the purpose of learning how to drive. And a highly exciting time they had of it, for not only did every dog want to start in its own direction as soon as they were harnessed, but every team wanted to attack every other team directly they appeared.

Nor were the troubles of the drivers limited to the dogs. The whip which is used for sledge teams consists of a very short handle and a very long lash. In the hands of an expert it is a most effective weapon, being capable of producing a resounding crack or a stinging blow wherever the wielder desires. But in the hands of a novice it is, like the Australian stock-whip, prone to do everything that the wielder does not wish. The amateur driver of a team, growing impatient as his dogs set off at full speed in various directions, and, besides tangling the harness, upset the sledge and themselves and very nearly himself as well, lashed out viciously at the worst offender; but the lash, instead of bringing the creature to his senses, curled back and hit the striker across the face, or twined round the legs of his companion, with disastrous results. Meanwhile the Eskimo driver was going from one group to another, trying to explain the mysteries of the art, much to the amusement of the onlookers and the indignation of the inexperienced amateurs.

During the wait at Disko, another form of Arctic travelling was practised by the officers of the expedition. This was the use of the Eskimo kayak.

The kayak is a long narrow canoe, entirely covered in with a waterproof covering. The voyager sits in the middle in a small round hole, the covering lapping over the edges and being fastened round the waist. The kayak is thus made as buoyant as a life-belt, whether floating on an even keel or upside down. By reason of their build, they are peculiarly "cranky" craft, turning over at the least provocation, and so require extremely careful handling, unless one is an adept at swimming and diving. The experience of one of the officers made this clear. He had securely strapped himself in, when, by a false stroke of the paddle, he overturned the kayak. He could not get it back again and was unable to loosen the cover; there was only one way of escape, and that possible alone to a man familiar with being under water. Loosening his clothes, he wriggled out of them and came to the surface just in time to avoid drowning.

Having taken on board all the stores that the Valorous carried, as well as a full supply of coal, the Alert and the Discovery started in company for the North. The advantages of steam navigation were made even more apparent as they proceeded, for the ships were able to steam through ice-encumbered water which would have been quite impassable for sailing vessels. Depending so much upon the wind, a sailing vessel is only able to make headway amongst heavy drifting floes by means of long hawsers, run out and made fast to a mass of ice and then slowly hauled in at the capstan. Steamers, on the other hand, experience no difficulty in forcing their way past and between the lesser floes, and Sir George Nares, who had had a great deal of experience of sailing vessels in the ice regions, was frequently astounded at the ease with which the two steamers rammed their way, clearing from out of their course lumps of ice which would have been difficult obstacles to a sailing ship.

Those on board, however, were not to escape without some experience of the peculiarities of ice movements. The vessels were going to make fast for the night, and a boat's crew was sent from the Alert to carry an anchor to a large, heavy mass not far distant. On near approach it was seen that the lump was very rotten, and, as no hold for the anchor could be found near the water-line, one of the men volunteered to clamber up to the top and, with an ice chisel, make a hold for it. He clambered on to the slippery, treacherous mass, and, after a great deal of very careful exertion, succeeded in reaching a point high enough for his purpose. He began lustily to drive in the chisel, but so rotten was the ice, that instead of merely chipping out a crevice, he cracked the top of the lump. Another blow, and, to his intense amazement, a huge mass in front of him slid away. Gliding down the side, fortunately away from the boat, it splashed into the sea. But the removal of so much from the top of the berg upset its balance, with the result that it swayed from one side to the other as it recovered its equilibrium. The unfortunate sailor, with nothing to cling to, had to scramble up and over the summit as the berg dipped down; but no sooner was he over the top than the berg swung the other way, and he had to scramble back again. There was no means of escape until the berg settled down once more, and in the meantime his companions in the boat and on the steamer were shouting with laughter at the antics of what they called their squirrel on the iceberg.

While he was in his lofty if unsteady position, however, he noticed on a floe not far distant three walrus, and as soon as he returned to the ship and reported his discovery, a boat with a harpoon and two rifles was despatched. The three animals lay contentedly enough on the ice, paying scarcely any heed to the advancing boat, with the result that all were hit. The two that were shot slid off into the water and sank, but the one that was harpooned could not escape. He was an immense creature, measuring over twelve feet in length and eleven feet round the thickest part; his tusks were over eighteen inches long, and, when cut up, he yielded five casks of meat, weighing 1250 lbs.

As the two vessels advanced farther to the North they found that the character of the ice was very different from that met with in the neighbourhood of Baffin's Bay and Lancaster Sound. It was more massive and heavy, a berg they passed towering nearly 300 feet above the water-line, and floes frequently occurring some miles in length and standing 50 feet out of the water. The possibility of being caught between such masses and "nipped" was a constant danger, for no vessel could possibly withstand the tremendous pressure exerted by two floes of that size colliding. A constant look-out had to be maintained from the crow's-nest for any sign ahead of the floes closing in, and by careful navigation anything like a severe "nip" was avoided.

By August 24 they had made such excellent progress as to be nearly at the end of the hitherto explored channel. A southerly wind was helping them along, but about four in the afternoon it began to die away. They were then in Bessel Bay, and in order to see how the ice was ahead, Sir George Nares decided to land and climb to the top of Cape Morton, which is some 2000 feet in height. From the summit a magnificent view was obtained, of which the following description is given by Sir George Nares in his account of the expedition:—

"It was a beautiful morning, with scarcely a cloud in the sky. The cold, sharp wind which had benumbed us at the sea-level was local, for, on the summit of the cape, it was perfectly calm. Sixty miles distant in the south-west were the Victoria and Albert mountains of Grinnel Land, fronted by Hans Island showing clear of Cape Bryan, which had Hannah Island nestling at its base. Farther north was an elevated spur from the main range which, rising between Archer Fjord and Kennedy Channel, formed Daly Promontory. Fronting these mountains, and directly separated from them by an extensive valley extending to the northward from Carl Ritter Bay, was the black buttress-shaped cliff forming Cape Back, the southern extremity of the nearly straight running line of flat-topped coast hills extending twenty miles to Cape Defosse. From that point the coast line became more hilly, and, joining the Daly mountains, extended to Cape Lieber, a bluff headland, with Cape Baird, a low, flat point, jutting out beyond it. Still farther north were the lofty mountains of Grant's Land with steep cliffs about Cape Union, though seventy miles distant distinctly visible, forming the western extremity of Robeson Channel. Nearly due north a slight break in the continuity of the land showed where Robeson Channel opened into the Polar Sea. On the eastern side of the strait, at a distance of forty miles, was Cape Lupton, the notable landmark denominated Polaris Promontory; then came Polaris Bay with the low plains leading to Newman Bay. At my feet lay Cape Tyson and Cape Mary Cleverly on the north shore of Petermann Fjord, rising to an elevation of 1500 feet."

In this district, picturesque and beautiful as portrayed by the explorer's description, the Discovery wintered, while the Alert went on farther North. The spot where the Discovery was left, and which was named Discovery Bay, was a large, well-protected inlet inside an island, the outer point of which formed Cape Bellot. In the summer it was sparsely covered with loose ice, but in the winter, sea, hills, cape, and plains were all covered in the one white garb. As the two vessels entered the bay early on the morning of August 25, what at first were taken to be nine boulders were observed on the shore; but as the vessels swung to their anchors, the boulders were observed to move away. At once the cry of "musk oxen" was raised, and boats were hastily lowered, filled with sportsmen keen for the chase. The oxen, disturbed by the noise, made for the higher ground, where they were followed by the enthusiastic shooting party until every one of the nine was brought to the ground.

The following day, August 26, the ships parted company, the Alert taking with her an officer and a sledge team of men from the Discovery, with the idea of sending them back overland when winter quarters were selected, an idea which had to be abandoned by reason of the impassable nature of the country. On the last day of the month the Alert met a particularly heavy floe, the ice forming it being of the massive character which denoted that its origin was the Polar Sea. Once the grinding mass of hummocks, rising higher than the vessel's decks, threatened to catch her. There would have been no hope of escape if they had, and only by persistently ramming her way through some of the looser ice did she escape in towards the shore. Next day a strong gale sprang up from the south-west, and the Alert went along at ten miles an hour in an open channel between the land and the heavy pack which was drifting about three miles out. By midday they reached latitude 82° 24' N., and the flags were run up to the mastheads amid general rejoicing, for it was the farthest point North to which a ship had yet sailed.

With the channel showing clear ahead of them and the spanking breeze astern, expectation was high on board that they would be able to sail right up to latitude 84°, but within an hour their hopes were suddenly and thoroughly checked. On hauling to the westward they rounded a promontory and found that the land trended away to the west. The wind veered round to the north-west and drove the ice in upon the channel, which gradually became narrower until, when off Cape Sheridan, the main pack was observed to be touching the grounded ice and effectually barring all further progress. The Alert was run close up to the end of the channel, and then, when it was certain that there was no chance of getting through the barrier, she was anchored to a floe which rested aground off the cape. The next day, as the heavy ice of the pack was grinding against the stranded floe, and an opening just large enough for the vessel to get in was observed in the floe, she was warped into the basin.

She was barely inside when a solid hummock crushed against the opening, forming a great barrier between the vessel and the outer moving pack. Had it struck there a few minutes earlier the vessel would have been severely injured by the "nip," but as it was the hummock formed an admirable shelter from the pressure of the pack. This was often so severe that masses over 30,000 tons in weight were broken off and forced up the inclined shore, rising twelve and fourteen feet higher out of the water as they crunched along the ground.

On September 4 new ice formed on the water in which the ship was floating, and from observations taken from high land inshore all doubt was removed as to where they were. They had navigated to the end of Robeson Channel and were now in the Polar Sea. No land could be seen to the north; nothing but a vast wilderness of huge masses of Polar ice, most of which had evidently been frozen for years. At midnight on the same day they saw the last of the sun as it sank below the northern horizon.

Winter was now upon them, and they set to work to make their quarters as comfortable as possible. Snow came down heavily for some days, but not for a week or so was it hard enough to cut into the blocks suitable for building snow houses. When these were built, stores were removed to them and observatories fitted up for recording the various conditions of the atmosphere. On September 14 a severe gale sprang up, which caused the ice to move so much that the thin new ice in the basin was broken up and a boat's crew were drifted away on to a floe-berg 200 yards from the ship, from whence they were only rescued after great difficulty and in a half-frozen condition.

Some days subsequently, while a sledge party was on shore, one man was badly frost-bitten. He did not know it until some time after, but he had tried to thaw his frozen foot-wraps in his sleeping-bag instead of first removing them. The loss of feeling and then of use in his legs crippled him, and when he was brought on board it was seen what was wrong. This is one of the several evils men have to carefully guard against in the excessive cold. So long as they experience the stinging sensation of cold, they are free from a frost-bite; but a man may have his face bitten and not realise it until he is told that he has turned dead white. Circulation has then been arrested, and immediate steps have to be taken to bring it back, or the flesh becomes dead.

The dogs also began to suffer from a disease which sent them into fits, and which puzzled the Eskimo driver and the doctors. Some of them wandered away over the ice and others died, until only fifteen remained out of thirty, and many of those were thin and weakly. Then, as the cold increased, ice formed in the chimneys, and damp settled on the beams and walls between decks every time the cold air was admitted, so that it had to be constantly sponged up, while the officers had to spread waterproof coverings over their beds to protect themselves from it when they slept.

On November 8 it was so dark at midday that a newspaper could not be read, nor could a man be distinguished a dozen yards away. For eighty-seven days more the sun would be absent, but the moon visited the dark, cold skies, appearing for ten days without setting, and then going out of sight for thirteen. On November 13 the cold was so intense that the mercury froze in the thermometer.

But if it was dark and cold outside, the ship's company made themselves comfortable. A school was started, a theatre was opened—the Royal Arctic—and every Thursday they had popular concerts. Exercise was daily taken and the general health was excellent, only one man being on the sick-list, and he from a constitutional cause. The men were warmly clad when "between decks," as the temperature there was never what one might term hot; but before going outside they had to wrap themselves up in a variety of thick heavy fur garments, for there was often a difference of nearly one hundred degrees to be experienced.

The long stretch of winter's darkness was varied by the appearance, from time to time, of the aurora. This was the phenomenon which so greatly puzzled, and not infrequently terrified, the early explorers. Assuming a variety of forms, sometimes like the fringe of a vast curtain hanging in the sky, at others appearing as bands and streaks of light, waving and flickering over the heavens, but always with this peculiarity, that however bright they appeared, no light was given to the surrounding atmosphere, they were a source of constant interest to the men.

And so the winter passed, not entirely without its pleasures, in spite of the prolonged darkness. With the beginning of spring active preparations were made for the sledging trips, which were to carry out the work of surveying the surrounding land and penetrating farther to the North than it was possible for the vessels to go. The great majority of the officers and men on the Alert were told off for these expeditions, six officers and six men remaining on board, while fifty-three were split up into two parties, one to survey the coast of Grant's Land, and the other, under Commander Markham and Lieutenant Parr, to go North—to the Pole if possible.

The day the start was made the two parties were drawn up in line alongside the ship, and the chaplain read prayers, after which, with cheers for one another and the men left behind, they started.

Both did good service, the survey party carrying the survey round the coast well on to the western side. The North Pole party pressed on in the face of terrible difficulties until they reached the farthest point North that had yet been recorded.

In addition to the sledges laden with stores, they dragged with them two whale-boats in case they should meet with open water. But there was no sign of it as far as they went. On the contrary, their route lay over such excessively rough ice that although they travelled as a rule about ten miles a day, so much of it was spent in getting round inaccessible hummocks, that the actual progress towards the North rarely exceeded one mile a day.

When on April 11 they bade their comrades farewell, they had provisions for seventy days, and all were in good health and spirits. The work of dragging the boats and sledges up and down the great masses of rugged ice which covered the Polar Sea was terribly trying, however, and by the time the ten miles were covered every one was ready to creep into the sleeping-bags and rest. As the sun began to rise above the horizon it made the snow and ice sparkle and glitter so much that their eyes, accustomed for so long to darkness, could not stand it. Goggles had to be worn to protect the sight, but before they were adopted by all the members several were affected, and Lieutenant Parr for some days suffered from snow-blindness, an affliction which fortunately passed away in time.

As the days went by, the toil of dragging the sledges over the interminable and monotonous ice became more and more wearying. There was no variety in the work, no change in the surroundings; and although the men stuck at their task with true British obstinacy, it began to tell upon them. One man fell sick, growing weaker and weaker until he was no longer able to pull, and then was unable to walk. One of the boats was abandoned, and the sick man laid on a sledge. His condition was more than disquieting to the leaders, for it was evident he was suffering from scurvy, and no one could say who would be the next to develop it.

On April 23 they only added a mile and a quarter to their distance, for they had come upon clumps of ice hummocks which made their progress so difficult that they had to combine forces to haul first one sledge and then another over the obstacles. On April 28, when they were seventeen miles from the shore, they found the track of a hare in the snow, going towards the land, but with the footprints so close together that the animal was evidently very weak. Where it had come from, or how it had got so far from the shore, were riddles they could not solve.

As May came in signs of scurvy made themselves only too evident among the members of the crew, and on May 11 the leaders decided that the next day they would have to turn to the south once more. They started with a light sledge in the morning and pushed on till noon, when they took their bearings. They had reached latitude 83° 20' 26" N., and were then only 399½ miles from the Pole itself, having beaten all other records of Arctic explorations.

The little band, weary and sickening, forgot their woes in the presence of their achievement. A jorum of whisky had been presented to the expedition by the Dean of Dundee on condition that it was opened in the highest latitude reached. It was now produced, and the success of their efforts was toasted, the while each man smoked a cigar, also sent for consumption in the "farthest North."

A hole was cut in the ice and soundings were taken, the sea being seventy-two fathoms (432 feet) deep below them, with a clay bottom, the surface temperature being 28.5° and the temperature at the bottom 28.8°. Then they turned their backs upon the cold, bleak, ice-bound North, and began the journey home again, a journey which was to prove more trying than that which they had already accomplished.

The man who had first sickened, and whose name was Porter, had become so weak that he could not move from the sledge on which he lay wrapped in a sleeping-bag. Gradually one man after another began to lose his strength, until three or four were only able to support themselves, and could give no assistance in hauling the sledges, with the result that the labour pressed all the more heavily on the remainder of the party, all of whom were more or less affected by scurvy. The first fortnight of the return journey was a terribly wearying time to the leaders, for they saw their men becoming weaker every day, so that the progress was slower and more difficult, while at the same time the only hope of escape was to reach land. On the coast it would be possible for relief to meet them, but out amongst the rugged hummocks of the Polar Sea the whole ship's company would not be able to find them. The extra work thrown upon those who were not entirely incapacitated told severely upon their already enfeebled systems. The toil no longer encouraged their appetites; instead, the sight of food became nauseous to them, until towards the end of the month half a pannikin of pemmican was more than each man could manage to eat. But the toil was still as weary, and the cold as intense, and without sufficient food to keep up their strength, the outlook was almost hopeless.

Still, however, the little band of seventeen struggled on, setting an example of courage, determination, and absolute devotion to discipline and duty which has won for them as deep an admiration as their achievement of the "farthest North" record. On June 2 only six men and the two officers were able to do anything in the way of labour. Five men lay sick and helpless on the already laden sledges, and four more were just able to stagger along from point to point after the dreary procession of sledges. The progress was very slow now, as it required all the strength which was left in the eight, who alone were able to do anything, to move one sledge at a time. The second boat had been abandoned, as it could not be dragged farther, and the strain of moving the three sledges that remained was so great that when, on June 5, land was reached after an absence of two months, the entire party was in a state of collapse.

The next day they rested and debated what was the best course to adopt to obtain help, for it was outside of their power to drag the sledges any farther. Porter was almost at death's door, and unless help came very soon several more would be in a similar condition. Lieutenant Parr was the strongest, but even he was in a very low condition. That, however, did not rob him of his courage, nor of his readiness to give the rest of his life, if necessary, for the rescue of his comrades.

He volunteered to set out alone for the ship, to carry word of the terrible plight of the party and the need for instant relief. It was almost a hopeless task, and the heavy hearts of the stricken men, beating more hopefully at the token of such manly bravery, drooped again as they remembered the dreary miles of snow and ice which would have to be covered, and saw the weakened state of their would-be rescuer's strength. But he was not to be gainsaid; weak as he was, he was yet the strongest of the party, and he would make the attempt.

On June 7 he started, the little band watching him as he trudged bravely away, giving him as hearty a cheer as they could. Slowly he made his way over the frozen shore, and, when he had passed out of sight, the men looked at one another and wondered. How far would he get before death overtook him? How long before they all yielded to the same conqueror?

By the next morning one had already gone, Porter passing away after nearly two months' fighting against the scourge. Commander Markham, and the four who were alone able to help him, paid the last honours to their deceased comrade. The British ensign was lowered to half-mast on the pole of the big sledge and a Union Jack was carefully wrapped round the body. With great exertion, in their emaciated condition, a place was hollowed out in the frozen soil, and there they placed him, the funeral service being read by Commander Markham, who, in his diary, thus wrote of the ceremony: "Of all the melancholy and mournful duties I have ever been called upon to perform, this has been the saddest. A death in a small party like ours, and under the present circumstances, is a most depressing event, and is keenly felt by all. During the service all were more or less affected, and many to tears."

A rude cross was fashioned out of a boat's oar and a spare sledge batten, and it was placed at the head of the grave with the following inscription: "Beneath this cross lie buried the remains of George Porter, R.M.A., who died June 8, 1876. 'Thy will be done!'"

Anxiously they waited during the rest of the day, wondering as to the fate of Lieutenant Parr, and half expecting to see him stagger back to the camp, his splendid courage overcome by the difficulties of his journey. But he did not return, and the men crept into their sleeping-bags under the tents scarcely daring to think what the morrow would bring forth. One or two of the sick men were visibly worse since the death of Porter, and the next day might mean the end of their lives. If their gallant rescuer managed to make his way at all, he could not reach the ship in time for relief to come for another day or two, and no man dared to speak of what might occur in that interval.

The shouts of men's voices while they were yet within their sleeping-bags on the morning of June 9 were so unexpected, that, at first, those who heard them blamed their ears for playing them false. But it was no deception. Lieutenant Parr, with a magnificent heroism that deserves honour even among the many brave deeds which British sailors have performed, struggled on after leaving the camp without a stop until he came in sight of the Alert. Directly he was discovered he told of his comrades waiting helpless and sick. Relief parties were formed on the moment, and two officers, Lieutenants May and Moss, with a dog-team sledge laden with lime-juice and restoratives, started away while the other sledges were loading.

They pressed on without a halt until they saw the tents of the camp, when they shouted, as no one was to be seen about the place. They were up to the tents before any one came out, and when they did it was as though new life had been given to each man. The lime-juice, of which they were in such dire want—for by an oversight it had been omitted from the stores—was at once served round, giving fresh energy to those who were still able to move about, and greatly relieving those who were incapacitated.

On the arrival of the remainder of the relief party, the invalids were all removed to the ship and attended to, every man recovering, under medical treatment, before the Alert weighed anchor for the South. This was done in August, when she rejoined the Discovery, the officers of which had also done splendid service in surveying the interior of Grinnel Land, behind Discovery Bay, and also along the northern coast of Greenland.

While the Discovery was lying in her winter quarters a successful attempt was made by Lieutenant Beaumont, accompanied by Dr. Coppinger and sixteen men, dragging two sledges, to communicate with the Alert. They started away on April 6, while the cold was still nearly 70° below zero, a temperature which made sleeping almost impossible, as they had constantly to exercise to maintain their bodily heat. In spite of these drawbacks, however, the Alert was reached.

The intention was to continue the journey across Robeson Channel over to Greenland, and to explore as much of the northern coast as was possible. Reinforced by Lieutenant Rawson and five men, the party started on April 20, from the Alert, with four sledges and provisions for fifty-six days. As they approached the Greenland coast the ice was very rough and tumbled about in irregular blocks, with heavy snow lying ankle deep. Arriving at Polaris Bay, a depÔt of stores was made and a detachment left in charge, the journey then being resumed; but the ice became more and more difficult, and the snow deeper. The strength of the whole party was taxed to the utmost to make any progress, and at the end of each day's work every one was wearied out with fatigue. Falls were frequent, owing to the unevenness of the ice, and one man, Hand, was particularly unfortunate in this respect. By the time that Cape Stanton was reached he was suffering considerably from stiffness, which was at first attributed to his tumbles; but when pain began to be manifest in his legs and gums, the truth of the matter became evident. He was affected with scurvy.

This discovery was made on May 10, and the leader at once decided to send him back to Polaris Bay with Lieutenant Rawson and six men. The remainder of the men were asked to say whether they fancied they were affected; but all maintained the contrary, and asked to be allowed to continue the journey.

With six men Lieutenant Beaumont continued the route to the North, while Lieutenant Rawson returned to the depÔt at Polaris Bay. On his way other members of his party developed scurvy, and their plight was so distressful that for some days before they reached the depÔt, which they did on June 3, Lieutenant Rawson and one man alone were able to drag the sledge, the former being so severely afflicted with snow-blindness that he had to walk for days with his eyes covered by a bandage. Hand, the first man affected, died as the sledge came within sight of the camp.

In the meantime Lieutenant Beaumont's party pushed on, difficulties increasing with every mile. The snow became deeper as they advanced, until they sank at every step over their knees. Describing it, the leader said: "The hard crust on the top would only just not bear you, while the depth prevented you from pushing forward through it, each leg sinking to about three inches above the knee, and the effort of lifting them so high as to extricate them from the deep footholes soon began to tell upon the men." The sun shining on the snow seemed to be unusually warm, while the exertion made them intensely thirsty, besides so exhausting them that they had to stop every fifty yards to rest and recover their breath. They were crossing a wide bay at the time, striving to reach the other shore, which did not seem to be more than a mile away. But the clearness of the atmosphere was very deceiving as to distance, for they struggled on for two days and still the coast only seemed to be a mile distant.

In order to make the way easier the men were marched four abreast, the sledge being left until a road was forced through the snow. For five miles the march was continued, and at the end of that distance the coast did not appear a yard nearer.

Sending the men back to the sledge with orders to rest till he rejoined them, Lieutenant Beaumont and one man went forward. But after some hours of trying effort they did not reach the coast, and were compelled to turn back, having been able to observe that the shore was composed of great towering cliffs with the snow piled up at the base. When they returned to the spot where the sledge had been left, they were thoroughly worn out by their exertions. As comfortable an encampment as could be arranged was made, and for two days the party remained resting.

Symptoms of scurvy were making themselves apparent among the men under the fatigue brought on by their excessive toil; but no word of complaint was spoken, every man being ready and willing to do his duty. In the retreat of Commander Markham and his men from the "farthest North," a splendid example of British heroism and discipline was given. The story of Lieutenant Beaumont's party furnishes another.

The growing sickness of some of the men and the decreasing store of provisions brought home to the leader the necessity of a return being made. At the end of the two days' rest the sledge was turned in the direction of Polaris Bay and the men retraced their steps, finding the travelling somewhat easier now that they could use the road they had made by their previous passage through the snow. But the leader wanted to be able to form some idea of the coast line beyond where they had been turned back, and, time after time, he made ineffectual efforts to reach the shore and scale some high hill. At last he was successful, after tremendous exertion, in reaching the summit of Dragon Point, an altitude of 3700 feet. From here he was able to command an extensive view, the land extending away as far as he could see into a cape which he named Britannia Cape.

On June 13 they arrived at Repulse Bay depÔt, and the state of the health of the men is best shown by the record Lieutenant Beaumont left, and which was recovered by members of the Greely expedition six years later. The record, dated June 13, 1876, reads:—

"Three of us have returned from the camp half a mile south to fetch the remainder of the provisions. Dobing has failed altogether this morning; Jones is much worse, and cannot last more than two or three days; Craig is nearly helpless; therefore we cannot hope to reach Polaris Bay without assistance. Two men cannot do it, so we will go as far as we can, and live as long as we can. God help us. L. A. Beaumont."

The discovery of this record, and the simple, manly faith and courage it betokened, was destined to be of great service to another band of English-speaking explorers in later years, and their opinion of it, and the admiration they felt for the man who wrote it, will be told in the account of the Greely expedition.

Meanwhile that Lieutenant Beaumont was making his heroic efforts to save the men of his party, Lieutenant Rawson was growing anxious as to their position. As they did not appear, he, on June 22, in company with one of the Eskimo and a dog-team sledge, started along the coast in search of them. Three days later they were met—on the last march they could have made, for they were at the end of their strength. Lieutenant Beaumont, in his account, says: "On the evening of the 24th we started for our last journey with the sledge; for, finding that Jones and Gray were scarcely able to pull, I had determined on reaching the shore to pitch the tent for the sick men and walk over to Polaris Bay by myself, and see if there was any one there to help us. If not, to come back and send Jones and Gray, who could still walk, to the depÔt, while I remained with the sick and got them on as best I could."

When Lieutenant Rawson met them, he found the intrepid Beaumont straining at the sledge, with the two sick men helping him as much as they could, while on the sledge lay the four helpless invalids, made as comfortable as circumstances would permit. No time was lost in removing them to Polaris Bay, where, under medical treatment, all recovered save one. After a brief rest at Polaris Bay the journey back to the Discovery was successfully carried out, and Lieutenant Beaumont had the pleasure of learning that his expedition had added considerably to the geographical knowledge of Northern Greenland.

Shortly after the return of the sledge parties the Alert rejoined the Discovery, and, towards the end of August, both vessels weighed anchor and started for England, where they arrived on November 2, 1876, having been absent for seventeen months, during which time they had carried the British flag to the "farthest North," and had brought within the knowledge of man localities previously unknown. They had not reached the Pole, and had come to the conclusion, after their experiences, that to do so was beyond the range of human possibility.