Part 6 (2/2)

Now that it was made it failed, through the cold freezing wind penetrating the starved bodies of the two men. Rice, who throughout the terrible ordeal of their captivity had never spared himself, was the first to feel it. A strong wind was blowing, bringing down heavy snow squalls. Suddenly Rice began to talk wildly and then staggered.

Fredericks grasped him by the arm and tried to keep him up, but the cold and starvation had too tight a hold upon their victim. He vainly endeavoured to pull himself together, but only for a moment; then he sank down on the snow, babbling about the feast he was going to enjoy.

His comrade tried to restore him by giving him some of the stimulants they had with them, and did not hesitate to strip off his own fur coat to lay upon the other, sitting the while, holding his hands, and exposed to all the biting fury of the Arctic wind, in his s.h.i.+rt sleeves. But everything was useless; Rice was too worn out and too weak to fight further, and died as he faintly talked of the food he fancied he was eating.

The shock to Fredericks was almost overwhelming, for he was miles away from the camp, chilled to the bone, and with only a little coffee and spirits of ammonia to revive his own drooping vitality. Yet he would not leave his dead comrade until he had reverently laid him in a shallow resting-place in the snow, though it almost cost him his life to pay this last tribute.

When he at last managed to reach the camp with his sad tidings he was almost gone, and the news he brought plunged every one into the lowest depths of sorrow, for Rice had always been one of the bravest and best of the party. Those who were able to do so, attended to Fredericks and revived him.

To those who were weakest the end of Rice was a fatal blow, and the next day or so saw three or four pa.s.s away, one of whom was the intrepid Lockwood. A very few more days and all would have gone but for a gleam of good fortune. A young bear was killed, and the 400 pounds of meat obtained from it was the salvation of the survivors.

Several seals were seen in the straits and a few walrus, and all who could still handle a gun were daily striving to obtain fresh supplies for the larder. Eskimo Jens, who hunted a.s.siduously, succeeded in killing a small seal; but in a chase after another his kayak was injured in the ice and he was drowned.

After his death only misfortune attended the hunting, and, failing to replenish their stock of game, they were reduced to such a terrible plight that they had only the thick skin of the seal on which to subsist. Even this fare was carefully divided and measured out, so that life might be maintained as long as possible in case a relief vessel came. One day it was found that somebody was stealing. All the party was a.s.sembled, but no one would admit the theft. It was decided that the thief should be shot if discovered. One man, being suspected, was watched. He was caught and executed.

A fortnight later, the last few square inches of the seal's skin was gone, and the men, now little more than living skeletons, lay in their sleeping-bags looking at one another with hollow eyes, wondering, perhaps, who would be the last to go, when a steamer's whistle sounded over the straits.

At first they dared not trust their ears. It must have been a gull crying, or a bear, they said, and the only man with strength enough to crawl crept out to see. The others lay where they were, straining their ears to catch again the sound which had so moved them, but the minutes pa.s.sed on in silence. The man who had gone out did not come back, and their hopes fell. No one spoke, for it was too plain they had been deceived, and a profound silence reigned. Then they heard a great shouting, and before their minds could understand how it was done, they were surrounded by men of their own race, who were administering restoratives as quickly as they dared.

The _Thetis_, commanded by Captain Schley, of the United States Navy, had reached them, and so, on June 23, 1884, the survivors of the Greely expedition were saved.

CHAPTER VII

PEARY IN GREENLAND

The Greenland Question--Departure of the _Kite_--Peary breaks his Leg--A Camp made--Habits of the Eskimo--A Brush with Walrus--”Caching” Food--An Arctic Christmas Feast--Peary starts for the Great Ice-Cap--A Snow Sahara--The Ice-Cap Crossed--A Marvellous Discovery--Sails on Sledges--A Safe Return.

The disaster and suffering which characterised the termination of the Greely and _Polaris_ expeditions did not tend to recommend Arctic exploration as a national enterprise to the Government of the United States. A vast amount of highly valuable information had been obtained, not only by these expeditions, but also by the expedition sent out by the British Government under the command of Sir George Nares. And, in addition to the information, a further knowledge had been gained, the knowledge that the same spirit of indomitable pluck, the same tireless energy, and the same loyalty and devotion to duty dominated both branches of the great English-speaking race. The magnificent heroism displayed by the explorers from the _Alert_ and _Discovery_ found a parallel in the later experiences and exploits of the American expeditions, and both British and American Governments felt that, for a time at least, they were justified in resting on the laurels their gallant sons had won.

But if the Governments were satisfied, the restless spirit of the race could not remain quiet while secrets still remained in the keeping of the frozen North. The Pole was still untouched, and, more than that, there were secrets to be wrested from localities not quite so remote.

The discoveries along the north coast of Greenland opened up the very interesting question whether the land did not extend right up to the Pole itself. As far as any one had penetrated to the north of the coast, land was still to be seen farther on; it was an open question whether this great ice-covered country was an island, with its northern sh.o.r.es swept by the Polar ice-floes, or whether it extended almost to the dimensions of a continent in the Polar region.

The problem appealed strongly to two explorers whose names, by reason of their exploits during recent years, have become familiar. They are Nansen and Peary. The former, by his dash for the Pole, during which he surpa.s.sed all previous records of the ”farthest North,” has dwarfed his Greenland performances; the latter, by his journey of 1300 miles over the ice-crowned interior of Greenland, decided the insular character of the country. It is that journey which forms the subject of this chapter.

Lieutenant Robert E. Peary, an officer in the engineering department of the United States Navy, failing to obtain Government support for his scheme of an overland journey to the northern coast of Greenland, was supported by the Philadelphia Academy of National Science. The expedition was necessarily small, but that did not affect its utility.

It was, moreover, unique, by the inclusion of Lieutenant Peary's wife as one of its members; the account which she has given of her sojourn in high lat.i.tudes is one of the most interesting of books on the Arctic regions.

The party left New York on June 6, 1891, on board the steamer _Kite_, for Whale Sound, on the north-west coast of Greenland. The voyage was satisfactory in every way until June 24, when an unfortunate accident befell the leader.

The _Kite_ had encountered some ice which was heavy enough to check her progress, and, to get through it, the captain had to ram his s.h.i.+p. This necessitated a constant change from going ahead to going astern, and, as there was a good deal of loose ice floating about, the rudder frequently came into collision with it when the vessel was backing. Lieutenant Peary, who was on deck during one of these manoeuvres, went over to the wheelhouse to see how the rudder was bearing the strain. As he stood behind the wheelhouse, the rudder struck a heavy piece of ice and was forcibly jerked over, the tiller, as it swung, catching Lieutenant Peary by the leg and pinning him against the wall of the house. There was no escape from the position, and the pressure of the tiller gradually increased until the bone of the leg snapped.

The doctor, who formed one of the party, immediately set the limb; but the sufferer refused to return home, and when, a few days later, the _Kite_ reached McCormick Bay, he was carried ash.o.r.e strapped to a plank.

The material for a comfortably-sized house was part of the outfit of the expedition, and this was in course of erection the day that Lieutenant Peary was landed. For the accommodation of himself and wife, a tent was put up behind the half-completed house, and, as a high wind arose, the remainder of the party returned on board the _Kite_.

As the hours pa.s.sed away the wind became stronger. The tent swayed to and fro, and Mrs. Peary, as she sat beside her invalid and sleeping husband, realised what it was to be lonely and helpless. She and her husband were the only people on sh.o.r.e for miles; her husband was unable to move, and she was without even a revolver with which to defend herself. What, she asked herself, would be the result if a bear came into the tent? She could not make the people on board the _Kite_ hear, and she was without a weapon. Throughout the stay in the North, Mrs.

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