Part 6 (1/2)
Having spread our sails to a favoring breeze, we gave three cheers and bore away for Cape Alexander, about fourteen miles distant. As we sped onward the scene was delightful. On our left was Hartstene Bay, with its dark, precipitous sh.o.r.e-line, and white glacier fields in the background. The outlines of Cape Alexander grew clearer over our bows, and cheered us onward. But a dark, threatening cloud crept up the northern sky, sending after us an increasing breeze, and tipping the waves with caps of snowy whiteness. The storm-king came on in frequent squalls, giving earnest of his wrath. We could not turn back, nor did such a course at all accord with our wishes; nor could we run toward the sh.o.r.e on the left, where only frowning rocks awaited us. We could only scud before the tempest toward Cape Alexander, come what would. The wind roared louder and the waves rolled higher, yet on we flew. We came within half a mile of the cape unharmed. Now the current, as it swept swiftly round the cape, produced a ”chopping sea.” The ”Hope,” being made for a heavy sea, rounded the point in good style. The ”Ironsides”
was shorter, stood more out of the water, and was, therefore, less manageable. John, who was intrusted with the steering-oar, in minding the business of Bonsall and G.o.dfrey instead of his own, let it fly out of the water, and so permitted the boat to come round broadside to the current. Of course the sea broke over us at its pleasure, filling every part which could be filled and sinking us deep in the water. But for its metallic structure and air-tight apartment we should have sunk; as it was we held fast to the sides and mast to prevent being washed overboard, and thus we drifted ingloriously round the cape.
Here we found our consort, ready to come to our a.s.sistance; but as the water was smooth under sheltering land, we bailed out our boat, took in our sails, uns.h.i.+pped the mast, and rowed for a small rock called Sutherland's Island, hoping to find a harbor. But we found none, nor was it safe to land anywhere upon the island. There was nothing to do but to pull back again in the face of the wind. The men were weary and disheartened; the sun had set and it was growing dark; our clothes were frozen and unyielding as a coat of mail; cutting sleet pelted our faces, and we were often compelled to lose for a moment part of what we had with such toil gained. But the sheltering main-land of the cape was at last gained, and we coasted slowly along for some distance looking for a haven. We finally came to a low rocky point, behind which lay a snug little harbor. ”A harbor! here we are boys; a harbor!” shouted the lookout. The men responded with a faint cheer--they were too much exhausted for ”a rouser.”
The boats were unladen and drawn upon the land. Every thing in the ”Ironsides” was wet, but the stores of the ”Hope” were in perfect order.
We pitched our tent, cooked our supper, and lay down to sleep. The sea roared angrily as its waves broke upon the rocky coast, and the wind howled as it came rus.h.i.+ng down the hill-side; but they did but lull us to rest as we slept away our weariness and disappointment.
Two days we were detained in this place. Once a little fox peered at us from the edge of the cliff, which set our men upon a fruitless hunt for either his curious little self or some of his kindred. We greatly desired a fox stew, but fox cunning was too much for us.
We started for Northumberland Island on the eighth of September. To reach it we must pa.s.s through a wide expanse of sea which was now clear; not a berg greeted our vision, no fragments of drifting ice-packs met our sight. The wind was nearly ”after us,” and the boats glided through the waves as gloriously as if carrying a picnic party in our own home waters. The spirits of the men run over with glee. ”Isn't this glorious?” cried Whipple as the boats came near enough together to exchange salutations; ”we have it watch and watch about.”
”And so have we,” replied G.o.dfrey.
”We're s.h.i.+pping a galley and mean to have some supper,” shouted Stephenson.
”And we have got ours already!” exclaimed John. ”Look at this!” he added, flouris.h.i.+ng in the air a pot of steaming coffee.
But these joys were emphatically of the _arctic_ kind, which are in themselves prophecies of ill. Bergs were soon seen lifting their unwelcome heads in the distance, and sending through the intervening waters their tidings of evil. Next came long, narrow lines of ice; then these were united together by a thin, recent formation. We were now compelled to dodge about to find open lanes. Coming to a full stop, the officers climbed an iceberg to get a view of the situation. The pack was every-where, though in no direction was it without narrow runs of open water. Then and there they were compelled, after careful consultation, to decide a question deeply concerning our enterprise. It was this: Should we take the outer pa.s.sage, or the one lying along sh.o.r.e. The first would afford a better chance of open water, but if this failed us, as it was even likely to do at this late season, we must certainly perish. The second gave us a smaller chance of boating, but some chance to live if it failed. But we were on a desperate enterprise, and were inclined to desperate measures. But Petersen, who had twenty years'
experience in these waters, counseled the inner route, and by his counsel the officers felt bound to abide.
While this consultation was going on the sea became calm, and the boats could be urged only by the oars. It was night before we found a sheltered, sloping land behind a projecting rock. The boats were anch.o.r.ed in the usual way--by taking out their loads and lifting them upon the land.
The tents were pitched upon a terrace a few yards above the boats. This terrace, we were surprised to find, was covered with a green sod, full of thrifty vegetation. The sloping hill-side above had the same greenness. A little seeking brought to our wondering sight an abundant supply of sorrel and ”_cochlearia_,” anti-scurvy plants which our men much needed. Some of the men soon filled their caps with them. A fox had been shot and was already in the cook's steaming pot, to which a good supply of the green plants was added. Such a supper as we had! Nothing like it had been tasted since we left home! Our scurvy plague spots disappeared before its wonderful healing power. The men became as hilarious as boys when school is out. They reveled and rolled upon the green arctic carpet like young calves in a newly found clover field.
They smoked their pipes, ”spun yarns,” and laughed cheerily, as if their lives had not just now been in peril, and as if no imminent dangers lay at their door. Our camp had indeed been pitched by the all-guiding Hand in a goodly place. The men declared on retiring that they felt the healing _cochlearia_ in their very bones, and it is certain that we all felt the glow of our changed condition throughout our whole being.
The next day two of us climbed the highest land of the island for a glance at our situation. We found it as depressing as our paradise of greenness had been encouraging. We could see southward the closed ice-pack for twenty miles, and faint indications of the same condition of the sea could be discerned for twenty more miles.
We returned, and a council was called in which all, men and officers, were called upon freely to discuss, and finally to decide by vote, the question, Shall we go forward or attempt to return to the ”Advance.” All the facts so far as known were fairly brought out. Upernavik was six hundred miles in a straight line; the brig was four hundred. Dangers, if not death, were everywhere, yet none desponded. Whipple, or ”Long George,” as his messmates called him, made a heroic speech which expressed the feelings of all. He exclaimed: ”The ice can't remain long; I'll bet it will open to-morrow. The winter is a long way off yet. If we have such luck as we have had since leaving Cape Alexander, we shall be in Upernavik in two weeks. You say it is not more than six hundred miles there in a straight line. We have food for that time and fuel for a week. Before that's gone we'll shoot a seal.”
We voted with one voice--”Upernavik or nothing.” The decision was made.
CHAPTER XII.
NETLIK.
WE were unwillingly detained on the island several days more. During the detention we were visited by an Esquimo, who came most unexpectedly upon us. His name was Amalatok. He had been at the s.h.i.+p last winter, and had seen Dr. Kane in his August trip. His dress was strikingly arctic--a bird-skin coat, feathers turned in; bear-skin pants, hair outward; seal-skin boots; and dog-skin stockings. He carried in his hand two sea birds, a bladder filled with oil, some half-putrid walrus flesh, and a seal thong. He sat down on a rock and talked with animation. While thus engaged he twisted the neck from one of the birds, inserted the fore-finger of his right hand under the skin of its neck, drew it down its back, and thus instantly skinned it. Then running his long thumb nail along the breastbone, he produced two fine fat lumps of flesh, which he offered in turn to each of our company. These were politely declined, to his great disgust, and he bolted them down himself, sending after them a hearty draught of oil from the bladder. The other bird, the remaining oil, and the coil of seal-hide we purchased of him for three needles.
Soon after Amalatok's wife came up with a boy--her nephew. The woman was old, and exceedingly ugly looking; the boy was fine looking, wide-awake, and thievish--we watched him narrowly. In the evening the Esquimo left for their home on the easternly side of the island.
In the afternoon of the fourteenth of September we left the island, and set our course toward Cape Parry. The sky had been clear, the air soft and balmy, and the open sea invited us onward. But a cold mist soon settled down upon us, succeeded by a curtain of snow, shutting out all landmarks, and leaving us in great doubt as to our course. The compa.s.s refused to do its office, the needle remaining where it was placed. We struck into an ice-field and became perfectly bewildered. As we groped about we struck an old floating ice-island, about twelve feet square. On this we crawled and pitched our tent. The cook contrived, with much perseverance and delay, to light the lamp, melt some snow, and make a pot of coffee. This warmed and encouraged us. But as the snow fell faster and faster, we could not unwrap our bedding without getting it wet; so we huddled together under the tent to keep each other warm. None slept, and the night wore slowly away as our ice-island floated we knew not whither. There was great occasion for despondency, but the men were wonderfully cheerful. G.o.dfrey sung negro melodies with a gusto; Petersen told the stories of his boyhood life in Copenhagen and Iceland; John gave items of a ”runner's” life in San Francisco; Whipple related the horrors of the forecastle of a Liverpool packet; and Bonsall ”brought down the house” by striking up,
”Who wouldn't sell his farm and go to sea?”
During this merriment a piece of our raft broke off, and came near plunging two of the men into the sea.
The morning dawned and showed the dim outlines of some large object near us, whether iceberg or land we could not tell. Before we could well make it out we were near a sandy beach covered with bowlders. We tumbled into the boats and were soon ash.o.r.e. As we landed, Petersen's gun brought down two large sea-fowl. We were in a little time high on the land, our tent pitched, and all but John, the cook, lay down in the dry, warm buffalo-skins and slept away our weariness. John in the meantime contended through six long hours with the wind, which put out his lamp, the snow, which wet his tinder when he attempted to relight it, and the cold, which froze the water in the kettle during the delay, as well as chilled his fingers and face, and cooked us at last a supper of sea-fowl and fox. As we ate with appet.i.tes sharpened by a fast of twenty-four hours, we heard the storm, which raged fearfully, with thankfulness for our timely covert. G.o.d, and not our wisdom, had brought us. .h.i.ther.
When the morning broke we learned that we had drifted far up Whale Sound, and were camped on Herbert Island. After a little delay we entered our boats, rowed for several hours through ”the slush” the snow had created near the sh.o.r.e, and then spreading our canvas, we sailed for the mainland. We struck the coast twenty miles above Cape Parry.
We had scarcely time to glance at our situation before we heard the ”Huk! Huk! Huk!” of Esquimo voices. It was the hailing cry of a man and a boy who came running to the sh.o.r.e. While Petersen talked with the man, the boy scampered off.