CHAPTER XXIII
ATTACKED BY THE ICE
Hatteras, after seeing to the anchorage of the ship, returned to his cabin, took out his chart, and marked his position on it very carefully; he found himself in latitude 76° 57', and longitude 99° 20', that is to say, only three minutes from latitude 77°. It was here that Sir Edward Belcher passed his first winter with the Pioneer and Assistance. It was from here that he organized his sledge and canoe expeditions; he discovered Table Island, North Cornwall, Victoria Archipelago, and Belcher Channel. Having gone beyond latitude 78°, he saw the coast inclining towards the southeast. It seemed as if it ought to connect with Jones's Strait, which opens into Baffin's Bay. But, says the report, an open sea, in the northwest, "stretched as far as the eye could reach."
Hatteras gazed with emotion at that portion of the charts where a large white space marked unknown regions, and his eyes always returned to the open polar sea.
"After so many statements," he said to himself, – "after the accounts of Stewart, Penny, and Belcher, doubt is impossible! These bold sailors saw, and with their own eyes! Can I doubt their word? No! But yet if this sea is closed by an early winter – But no, these discoveries have been made at intervals of several years; this sea exists, and I shall find it! I shall see it!"
Hatteras went upon the quarter-deck. A dense mist enveloped the Forward; from the deck one could hardly see the top of the mast. Nevertheless, Hatteras ordered the ice-master below, and took his place; he wanted to make use of the first break in the fog to look at the horizon in the northwest.
Shandon took occasion to say to the second mate, —
"Well, Wall, and the open sea?"
"You were right, Shandon," answered Wall, "and we have only six weeks' coal in the bunkers."
"The doctor will invent some scientific way," continued Shandon, "of heating us without fuel. I've heard of making ice with fire; perhaps he will make fire with ice."
Shandon returned to his cabin, shrugging his shoulders.
The next day, August 20th, the fog lifted for a few minutes. From the deck they saw Hatteras in his lofty perch gazing intently towards the horizon; then he came down without saying a word and ordered them to set sail; but it was easy to see that his hopes had been once more deceived.
The Forward heaved anchor and resumed her uncertain path northward. So wearisome was it that the main-topsail and fore-topsail yards were lowered with all their rigging; the masts were also lowered, and it was no longer possible to place any reliance on the varying wind, which, moreover, the winding nature of the passes made almost useless; large white masses were gathering here and there in the sea, like spots of oil; they indicated an approaching thaw;25 as soon as the wind began to slacken, the sea began to freeze again, but when the wind arose this young ice would break and disperse. Towards evening the thermometer fell to 17°.
When the brig arrived at the end of a closed pass, it rushed on at full steam against the opposing obstacle. Sometimes they thought her fairly stopped; but some unexpected motion of the ice-streams would open a new passage into which she would plunge boldly; during these stoppages the steam would escape from the safety-valves and fall on the deck in the form of snow. There was another obstacle to the progress of the brig; the ice would get caught in the screw, and it was so hard that the engine could not break it; it was then necessary to reverse the engines, turn the brig back, and send some men to free the snow with axes and levers; hence arose many difficulties, fatigues, and delays.
It went on in this way for thirteen days; the Forward advanced slowly through Penny Strait. The crew murmured, but obeyed; they knew that retreat was now impossible. The advance towards the north was less perilous than a return to the south; it was time to think of going into winter-quarters.
The sailors talked together about their condition, and one day they even began to talk with Shandon, who, they knew, was on their side. He so far forgot his duty as an officer as to allow them to discuss in his presence the authority of his captain.
"So you say, Mr. Shandon," asked Gripper, "that we can't go back now?"
"No, it's too late," answered Shandon.
"Then," said another sailor, "we need only look forward to going into winter-quarters?"
"It's our only resource! No one would believe me – "
"The next time," said Pen, who had returned to duty, "they will believe you."
"Since I sha'n't be in command – " answered Shandon.
"Who can tell?" remarked Pen. "John Hatteras is free to go as far as he chooses, but no one is obliged to follow him."
"Just remember," resumed Gripper, "his first voyage to Baffin's Bay and what came of it!"
"And the voyage of the Farewell," said Clifton, "which was lost in the Spitzenberg seas under his command."
"And from which he came back alone," added Gripper.
"Alone, but with his dog," said Clifton.
"We don't care to sacrifice ourselves for the whims of that man," continued Pen.
"Nor to lose all the wages we've earned so hard."
They all recognized Clifton by those words.
"When we pass latitude 78°," he added, "and we are not far from it, that will make just three hundred and seventy-five pounds for each man, six times eight degrees."
"But," asked Gripper, "sha'n't we lose them if we go back without the captain?"
"No," answered Clifton, "if we can prove that it was absolutely necessary to return."
"But the captain – still – "
"Don't be uneasy, Gripper," answered Pen; "we shall have a captain, and a good one, whom Mr. Shandon knows. When a captain goes mad, he is dismissed and another appointed. Isn't that so, Mr. Shandon?"
"My friends," answered Shandon, evasively, "you will always find me devoted to you. But let us wait and see what turns up."
The storm, as may be seen, was gathering over Hatteras's head; but he pushed on boldly, firm, energetic, and confident. In fact, if he had not always managed the brig as he wanted to, and carried her where he was anxious to go, he had still been very successful; the distance passed over in five months was as great as what it had taken other explorers two or three years to make. Hatteras was now obliged to go into winter-quarters, but this would not alarm men of courage, experience, and confidence. Had not Sir John Ross and MacClure spent three successive winters in the arctic regions? Could not he do what they had done?
"Yes, of course," Hatteras used to say, "and more too, if need be. Ah!" he said regretfully to the doctor, "why was I unable to get through Smith's Sound, at the north of Baffin's Bay? I should be at the Pole now!"
"Well," the doctor used invariably to answer, – if necessary he could have invented confidence, – "we shall get there, Captain, but, it is true, at the ninety-ninth meridian instead of the seventy-fifth; but what difference does that make? If every road leads to Rome, it is even surer that every meridian leads to the Pole."
August 31st, the thermometer fell to 13°. The end of the summer was evidently near; the Forward left Exmouth Island to starboard, and three days afterward she passed Table Island, lying in the middle of Belcher Channel. Earlier in the season it would have been possible to reach Baffin's Bay through this channel, but at this time it was impossible to think of it. This arm of the sea was completely filled with ice, and would not have offered a drop of open water to the prow of the Forward; for the next eight months their eyes would see nothing but boundless, motionless ice-fields.
Fortunately, they could still get a few minutes farther north, but only by breaking the new ice with huge beams, or by blowing it up with charges of powder. They especially had cause to fear calm weather while the temperature was so low, for the passes closed quickly, and they rejoiced even at contrary winds. A calm night, and everything was frozen!
Now the Forward could not winter where she was, exposed to the wind, icebergs, and the drift of the channel; a safe protection was the first thing to be found; Hatteras hoped to gain the coast of New Cornwall, and to find, beyond Point Albert, a bay sufficiently sheltered. Hence he persisted in crowding northward.
But, September 8, an impenetrable, continuous mass of ice lay between him and the north; the temperature fell to 10°. Hatteras, with an anxious heart, in vain sought for a passage, risking his ship a hundred times and escaping from his perils with wonderful skill. He might have been accused of imprudence, recklessness, folly, blindness, but he was one of the best of sailors.
The situation of the Forward became really dangerous; in fact, the sea was closing behind her, and in a few hours the ice grew so hard that men could run upon it and tow the brig in perfect safety.
Hatteras, not being able to get around this obstacle, determined to attack it boldly in front. He made use of his strongest blasting cylinders, containing eight or ten pounds of powder. The men would dig a hole in the broadest part of the ice, close the orifice with snow, after having placed the cylinder in a horizontal position, so that a greater extent of ice might be exposed to the explosion; then a fuse was lighted, which was protected by a gutta-percha tube.
In this way they tried to break the ice; it was impossible to saw it, for the fissures would close immediately. Still, Hatteras was hoping to get through the next day.
But during the night the wind blew a gale; the sea raised the crust of ice, and the terrified pilot was heard shouting, —
"Look out there aft, look out there aft!"
Hatteras turned his eyes in that direction, and what he saw in the dim light was indeed alarming.
A great mass of ice, drifting northward with the tide, was rushing towards the brig with the speed of an avalanche.
"All hands on deck!" shouted the captain.
This floating mountain was hardly half a mile away; the ice was all in confusion and crashing together like huge grains of sand before a violent tempest; the air was filled with a terrible noise.
"That, Doctor," said Johnson, "is one of the greatest perils we have yet met with."
"Yes," answered the doctor, quietly; "it is terrible enough."
"A real attack which we must repel," resumed the boatswain.
"In fact, one might well think it was an immense crowd of antediluvian animals, such as might have lived near the Pole. How they hurry on, as if they were racing!"
"Besides," added Johnson, "some carry sharp lances, of which you had better take care, Doctor."
"It's a real siege," shouted the doctor. "Well, let us run to the ramparts!"
He ran aft where the crew, provided with beams and bars, were standing ready to repel this formidable assault.
The avalanche came on, growing larger at every moment as it caught up the floating ice in its eddy; by Hatteras's orders the cannon was loaded with ball to break the threatening line. But it came on and ran towards the brig; a crash was heard, and as it came against the starboard-quarter, part of the rail had given way.
"Let no one stir!" shouted Hatteras. "Look out for the ice!"
They swarmed on board the ship with an irresistible force; lumps of ice, weighing many hundredweight, scaled the sides of the ship; the smallest, hurled as high as the yards, fell back in sharp arrows, breaking the shrouds and cutting the rigging. The men were overcome by numberless enemies, who were heavy enough to crush a hundred ships like the Forward. Every one tried to drive away these lumps, and more than one sailor was wounded by their sharp ends; among others, Bolton, who had his left shoulder badly torn. The noise increased immensely. Duke barked angrily at these new enemies. The darkness of the night added to the horrors of the situation, without hiding the ice which glowed in the last light of the evening.
Hatteras's orders sounded above all this strange, impossible, supernatural conflict of the men with the ice. The ship, yielding to this enormous pressure, inclined to larboard, and the end of the main-yard was already touching the ice, at the risk of breaking the mast.
Hatteras saw the danger; it was a terrible moment; the brig seemed about to be overturned, and the masts might be easily carried away.
A large block, as large as the ship, appeared to be passing along the keel; it arose with irresistible power; it came on past the quarter-deck; if it fell on the Forward, all was over; soon it rose even above the topmasts, and began to totter.
A cry of terror escaped from every one's lips. Every one ran back to starboard.
But at that moment the ship was relieved. They felt her lifted up, and for an instant she hung in the air, then she leaned over and fell back on the ice, and then she rolled so heavily that her planks cracked. What had happened?
Raised by this rising tide, driven by the ice which attacked her aft, she was getting across this impenetrable ice. After a minute of this strange sailing, which seemed as long as a century, she fell back on the other side of the obstacle on a field of ice; she broke it with her weight, and fell back into her natural element.
"We have got by the thick ice!" shouted Johnson, who had run forward.
"Thank God!" said Hatteras.
In fact, the brig lay in the centre of a basin of ice, which entirely surrounded her, and although her keel lay under water she could not stir; but if she were motionless, the field was drifting along.
"We are drifting, Captain!" shouted Johnson.
"All right," answered Hatteras.
Indeed, how was it possible to resist it?
Day broke, and it was evident that under the influence of a submarine current the bank of ice was floating northward with great rapidity. This floating mass carried the Forward with it, in the midst of the ice-field, the edge of which could not be seen; to provide for any accident that might happen, Hatteras had a large supply of provisions carried on deck, as well as materials for camping, clothing, and cover; as MacClure had done under similar circumstances, he surrounded the ship with hammocks filled with air to protect her from damage. Soon it was so cold (7°), that the ship was surrounded by a wall from which only the masts issued.
For seven days they sailed in this way; Point Albert, which forms the western extremity of New Cornwall, was seen September 10th, and soon disappeared; the ice-field was seen to be drifting eastward from that time. Where was it going? Where would it stop? Who could say?
The crew waited with folded arms. At last, September 15th, towards three o'clock in the afternoon, the ice-field, having probably run against another one, stopped suddenly; the ship was jarred violently; Hatteras, who had kept his reckoning all along, looked at his chart; he found himself in the north, with no land in sight, in longitude 95° 35', and latitude 78° 15', in the centre of the region of the unknown sea, which geographers have considered the place of greatest cold.
CHAPTER XXIV
PREPARATIONS FOR WINTERING
The same latitude is colder in the southern than in the northern hemisphere; but the temperature of the New World is fifteen degrees beneath that of the other parts of the world; and in America these countries, known under the name of the region of greatest cold, are the most inclement.
The mean temperature for the whole year is two degrees below zero. Physicists have explained this fact in the following way, and Dr. Clawbonny shared their opinion.
According to them, the most constant winds in the northern regions of America are from the southwest; they come from the Pacific Ocean, with an equal and agreeable temperature; but before they reach the arctic seas they are obliged to cross the great American continent, which is covered with snow; the contact chills them, and communicates to these regions their intense cold.
Hatteras found himself at the pole of cold, beyond the countries seen by his predecessors; he consequently expected a terrible winter, on a ship lost amid the ice, with a turbulent crew. He resolved to meet these dangers with his usual energy. He faced what awaited him without flinching.
He began, with Johnson's aid and experience, to take all the measures necessary for going into winter-quarters. According to his calculation the Forward had been carried two hundred and fifty miles from any known land, that is to say, from North Cornwall; she was firmly fixed in a field of ice, as in a bed of granite, and no human power could extricate her.
There was not a drop of open water in these vast seas chained by the fierce arctic winter. The ice-fields stretched away out of sight, but without presenting a smooth surface. Far from it. Numerous icebergs stood up in the icy plain, and the Forward was sheltered by the highest of them on three points of the compass; the southeast wind alone reached them. Let one imagine rock instead of ice, verdure instead of snow, and the sea again liquid, and the brig would have quietly cast anchor in a pretty bay, sheltered from the fiercest blasts. But what desolation here! What a gloomy prospect! What a melancholy view!
The brig, although motionless, nevertheless had to be fastened securely by means of anchors; this was a necessary precaution against possible thaws and submarine upheavals. Johnson, on hearing that the Forward was at the pole of cold, took even greater precautions for securing warmth.
"We shall have it severe enough," he had said to the doctor; "that's just the captain's luck, to go and get caught at the most disagreeable spot on the globe! Bah! you will see that we shall get out of it."
As to the doctor, at the bottom of his heart he was simply delighted. He would not have changed it for any other. Winter at the pole of cold! What good luck!
At first, work on the outside occupied the crew; the sails were kept furled on the yards instead of being placed at the bottom of the hold, as the earlier explorers did; they were merely bound up in a case, and soon the frost covered them with a dense envelope; the topmasts were not unshipped, and the crow's-nest remained in its place. It was a natural observatory; the running-rigging alone was taken down.
It became necessary to cut away the ice from the ship to relieve the pressure. That which had accumulated outside was quite heavy, and the ship did not lie as deep as usual. This was a long and laborious task. At the end of some days the ship's bottom was freed, and could be inspected; it had not suffered, thanks to its solidity; only its copper sheathing was nearly torn away. The ship, having grown lighter, drew about nine inches less than she did earlier; the ice was cut away in a slope, following the make of the hull; in this way the ice formed beneath the brig's keel and so resisted all pressure.
The doctor took part in this work; he managed the ice-cutter well; he encouraged the sailors by his good-humor. He instructed them and himself. He approved of this arrangement of the ice beneath the ship.
"That is a good precaution," he said.
"Without that, Dr. Clawbonny," answered Johnson, "resistance would be impossible. Now we can boldly raise a wall of snow as high as the gunwale; and, if we want to, we can make it ten feet thick, for there is no lack of material."
"A capital idea," resumed the doctor; "the snow is a bad conductor of heat; it reflects instead of absorbing, and the inside temperature cannot escape."
"True," answered Johnson; "we are building a fortification against the cold, and also against the animals, if they care to visit us; when that is finished, it will look well, you may be sure; in this snow we shall cut two staircases, one fore, the other aft; when the steps are cut in the snow, we shall pour water on them; this will freeze as hard as stone, and we shall have a royal staircase."
"Precisely," answered the doctor; "and it must be said it is fortunate that cold produces both snow and ice, by which to protect one's self against it. Without that, one would be very much embarrassed."
In fact, the ship was destined to disappear beneath a thick casing of ice, which was needed to preserve its inside temperature; a roof made of thick tarred canvas and covered with snow was built above the deck over its whole length; the canvas was low enough to cover the sides of the ship. The deck, being protected from all outside impressions, became their walk; it was covered with two and a half feet of snow; this snow was crowded and beaten down so as to become very hard; so it resisted the radiation of the internal heat; above it was placed a layer of sand, which as it solidified became a sort of macadamized cover of great hardness.
"A little more," said the doctor, "and with a few trees I might imagine myself at Hyde Park, or even in the hanging-gardens at Babylon."
A trench was dug tolerably near the brig; this was a circular space in the ice, a real pit, which had to be kept always open. Every morning the ice formed overnight was broken; this was to secure water in case of fire or for the baths which were ordered the crew by the doctor; in order to spare the fuel, the water was drawn from some distance below the ice, where it was less cold. This was done by means of an instrument devised by a French physicist (François Arago); this apparatus, lowered for some distance into the water, brought it up to the surface through a cylinder.
Generally in winter everything which encumbers the ship is removed, and stored on land. But what was practicable near land is impossible for a ship anchored on the ice.
Every preparation was made to fight the two great enemies of this latitude, cold and dampness; the first produces the second, which is far more dangerous. The cold may be resisted by one who succumbs to dampness; hence it was necessary to guard against it.
The Forward, being destined to a journey in arctic seas, contained the best arrangements for winter-quarters: the large room for the crew was well provided for; the corners, where dampness first forms, were shut off; in fact, when the temperature is very low, a film of ice forms on the walls, especially in the corners, and when it melts it keeps up a perpetual dampness. If it had been round, the room would have been more convenient; but, being heated by a large stove, and properly ventilated, it was very comfortable; the walls were lined with deerskins, not with wool, for wool absorbs the condensed moisture and keeps the air full of dampness.
Farther aft the walls of the quarter were taken down, and the officers had a larger common-room, better ventilated, and heated by a stove. This room, like that of the crew, had a sort of antechamber, which cut off all communication with the outside. In this way, the heat could not be lost, and one passed gradually from one temperature to the other. In the anterooms were left the snow-covered clothes; the shoes were cleansed on the scrapers, so as to prevent the introduction of any unwholesomeness with one into the room.
Canvas hose served to introduce air for the draught of the stoves; other pieces of hose permitted the steam to escape. In addition two condensers were placed in the two rooms, and collected this vapor instead of letting it form into water; twice a week they were emptied, and often they contained several bushels of ice. It was so much taken from the enemy.
The fire was perfectly and easily controlled, by means of the canvas hose; by use of merely a small quantity of coal it was easy to keep the temperature of 50°. Still, Hatteras, having examined the bunkers, soon saw that the greatest economy was necessary, for there was not two months' fuel on board.
A drying-room was set apart for the clothes which were to be washed; they could not be dried in the open air, for they would freeze and tear.
The delicate pieces of the machinery were carefully taken down, and the room which contained them was hermetically closed.
The life on board became the object of serious meditation; Hatteras regulated it with the utmost caution, and the order of the day was posted up in the common-room. The men arose at six o'clock in the morning; three times a week the hammocks were aired; every morning the floors were scoured with hot sand; tea was served at every meal, and the bill of fare varied as much as possible for every day of the week; it consisted of bread, farina, suet and raisins for puddings, sugar, cocoa, tea, rice, lemon-juice, potted meats, salt beef and pork, cabbages, and vegetables in vinegar; the kitchen lay outside of the living-rooms; its heat was consequently lost; but cooking is a perpetual source of evaporation and dampness.
The health of the men depends a great deal on the sort of food they get; in high latitudes, the greatest amount of animal food ought to be eaten. The doctor had supervised the sort of food to be given.
"We ought to follow the Esquimaux," he used to say; "they have received their lessons from nature, and are our masters in that; if the Arabs and Africans can content themselves with a few dates and a handful of rice, here it is important to eat, and to eat a good deal. The Esquimaux take from ten to fifteen pounds of oil a day. If that fare does not please you, we must try food rich in sugar and fat. In a word, we need carbon, so let us manufacture carbon! It is well to put coal in the stove, but don't let us forget to fill that precious stove we carry about with us."
With this bill of fare, strict cleanliness was enforced; every other day each man was obliged to bathe in the half-frozen water which the iron pump brought up, and this was an excellent way of preserving their health. The doctor set the example; he did it at first as a thing which ought to be very disagreeable; but this pretext was quickly forgotten, for he soon took real pleasure in this healthy bath.
When work or hunting or distant expeditions took the men off in the severe cold, they had to take special care not to be frost-bitten; if they were, rubbing with snow would restore the circulation. Moreover, the men, who all wore woollen clothes, put on coats of deerskin and trousers of sealskin, which perfectly resist the wind.
The different arrangements of the ship, the getting-to-rights on board, took about three weeks, and they reached October 10th without any special incident.