climbed up to the trap-door of the loft, and peeping through it, made
sure that the bears were still on the roof. The moment for action had
arrived.
One door of the passage was open, and in spite of the thick furs in
which they were wrapped, all felt chilled to the very marrow of their
bones; and when the second door was pushed open, they recoiled for an
instant, panting for breath, whilst the moisture held in suspension in
the air of the passage covered the walls and the floor with fine snow.
The weather outside was extremely dry, and the stars shone with
extraordinary brilliancy. Sergeant Long rushed out without a moment’s
hesitation, dragging the cord behind him, one end of which was held by
his companions; the outer door was pushed to, and Hobson, Mae-Nab, and
Rae went back to the passage and closed the second door, behind which
they waited. If Long did not return in a few minutes, they might
conclude that his enterprise had succeeded, and that, safe in the shed,
he was loading the first train with fuel. Ten minutes at the most ought
to suffice for this operation, if he had been able to get the door open.
When the Sergeant was fairly off, Hobson and Mac-Nab walked together
towards the end of the passage.
Meanwhile Rae had been watching the bears and the loft. It was so dark
that all hoped Long’s movements would escape the notice of the hungry
animals.
Ten minutes elapsed, and the three watchers went back to the narrow
space between the two doors, waiting for the signal to be given to drag
in the sledge.
Five minutes more. The cord remained motionless in their hands! Their
anxiety can be imagined. It was a quarter of an hour since the Sergeant
had started, plenty of time for all he had to do, and he had given no
signal.
Hobson waited a few minutes longer, and then tightening his hold of the
end of the rope, he made a sign to his companions to pull with him. If
the load of wood were not quite ready, the Sergeant could easily stop it
from being dragged away.
The rope was pulled vigorously. A heavy object seemed to slide along the
snow. In a few moments it reached the outer door.
It was the body of the Sergeant, with the rope round his waist. Poor
Long had never reached the shed. He had fallen fainting to the ground,
and after twenty minutes’ exposure to such a temperature there was
little hope that he would revive.
A cry of grief and despair burst from the lips of Mac-Nab and Rae. They
lifted their unhappy comrade from the ground, and carried him into the
passage; but as the Lieutenant was closing the outer door, something
pushed violently against it, and a horrible growl was heard.
“Help!” cried Hobson.
Mac-Nab and Rae rushed to their officer’s assistance; but Mrs Barnett
had been beforehand with them and was struggling with all her strength
to help Hobson to close the door. In vain; the monstrous brute, throwing
the whole weight of its body against it, would force its way into the
passage in another moment.
Mrs Barnett, whose presence of mind did not forsake her now, seized one
of the pistols in the Lieutenant’s belt, and waiting quietly until
the animal shoved its head between the door and the wall, discharged the
contents into its open mouth.
The bear fell backwards, mortally wounded no doubt, and the door was
shut and securely fastened.
The body of the Sergeant was then carried into the large room. But,
alas! the fire was dying out. How was it possible to restore the vital
heat with no means of obtaining warmth?
“I will go--I will go and fetch some wood !” cried the blacksmith
Rae.
“Yes, Rae, we will go together!” exclaimed Mrs Barnett, whose
courage was unabated.
“No, my friends, no!” cried Hobson; “you would fall victims to
the cold, or the bears, or both. Let us burn all there is to burn in the
house, and leave the rest to God !”
And the poor half-frozen settlers rose and laid about them with their
hatchets like madmen. Benches, tables, and partition walls were thrown
down, broken up, crushed to pieces, and piled up in the stove of the
large room and kitchen furnace. Very soon good fires were burning, on
which a few drops of walrus-oil were poured, so that the temperature of
the rooms quickly rose a dozen degrees.
Every effort was made to restore the Sergeant. He was rubbed with warm
rum, and gradually the circulation of his blood was restored. The white
blotches with which parts of his body were covered began to disappear;
but he had suffered dreadfully, and several hours elapsed before he
could articulate a word. He was laid in a warm bed, and Mrs Barnett and
Madge watched by him until the next morning.
Meanwhile Hobson, Mac-Nab, and Rae consulted bow best to escape from
their terrible situation. It was impossible to shut their eyes to the
fact that in two days this fresh supply of fuel would be exhausted, and
then, if the cold continued, what would become of them all? The new moon
had risen forty-eight hours ago, and there was no sign of a change in
the weather! The north wind still swept the face of the country with its
icy breath; the barometer remained at “ fine dry weather; “and there
was not a vapour to be seen above the endless succession of ice-fields.
There was reason to fear that the intense cold would last a long time
yet, but what was to be done? Would it do to try once more to get to
the wood-shed, when the bears had been roused by the shot, and rendered
doubly dangerous? Would it be possible to attack these dreadful
creatures in the open air I No, it would be madness, and certain death
for all!
Fortunately the temperature of the rooms had now become more bearable,
and in the morning Mrs Joliffe served up a breakfast of hot meat and
tea. Hot grog was served out, and the brave Sergeant was able to take
his share. The heat from the stoves warmed the bodies and reanimated the
drooping courage of the poor colonists, who were now ready to attack
the bears at a word from Hobson. But the Lieutenant, thinking the forces
unequally matched, would not risk the attempt; and it appeared likely
that the day would pass without any incident worthy of note, when at
about three o’clock in the afternoon a great noise was heard on the
top of the house.
“There they are!” cried two or three soldiers, hastily arming
themselves with hatchets and pistols.
It was evident that the bears had torn away one of the rafters of the
roof, and got into the loft.
“Let every one remain where he is!” cried the Lieutenant. “Rae,
the trap !”
The blacksmith rushed into the passage, scaled the ladder, and shut and
securely fastened the trap-door.
A dreadful noise was now heard-growling, stamping of feet, and tearing
of claws. It was doubtful whether the danger of the anxious listeners
was increased, or the reverse. Some were of opinion that if all the
bears were in the loft, it would be easier to attack them. They would be
less formidable in a narrow space, and there would not be the same
risk of suffocation from cold. Of course a conflict with such fierce
creatures must still. be very perilous, but it no longer appeared so
desperate as before.
It was now debated whether it would be better to go and attack the
besiegers, or to remain on the defensive. Only one soldier could get
through the narrow trap-door at a time, and this made Hobson hesitate,
and finally resolve to wait. The Sergeant and others, whose bravery none
could doubt, agreed that he was in the right, and it might be possible
that some new incident would occur to modify the situation. It was
almost impossible for the bears to break through the beams of the
ceiling, as they had the rafters of the roof, so that there was little
fear that they would get on to the ground-floor.
The day passed by in anxious expectation, and at night no one could
sleep for the uproar made by the furious beasts.
The next day, about nine o’clock, a fresh complication compelled
Hobson to take active steps.
He knew that the pipes of the stove and kitchen furnace ran all along
the loft, and being made of lime-bricks but imperfectly cemented
together, they could not resist great pressure for any length of time.
Now some of the bears scratched at the masonry, whilst others leant
against the pipes for the sake of the warmth from the stove; so that
the bricks began to give way, and soon the stoves and furnace ceased to
draw.
This really was an irreparable misfortune, which would have disheartened
less energetic men. But things were not yet at their worst. Whilst the
fire became lower and lower, a thick, nauseous, acrid smoke filled the
house; the pipes were broken, and the smoke soon became so thick that
the lamps went out. Hobson now saw that he must leave the house if he
wished to escape suffocation, but to leave the house would be to perish
with cold. At this fresh misfortune some of the women screamed; and
Hobson, seizing a hatchet, shouted in a loud voice
“To the bears! to the bears, my friends !”
It was the forlorn-hope. These terrible creatures must be destroyed. All
rushed into the passage and made for the ladder, Hobson leading the
way. The trap-door was opened, and a few shots were fired into the black
whirlpool of smoke. Mingled howls and screams were heard, and blood
began to flow on both sides; but the fearful conflict was waged in
profound darkness.
In the midst of the mêlée a terrible rumbling sound suddenly drowned
the tumult, the ground became violently agitated, and the house rocked
as if it were being torn up from its foundations. The beams of the walls
separated, and through the openings Hobson and his companions saw the
terrified bears rushing away into the darkness, howling with rage and
fright.
CHAPTER XXII. FIVE MONTHS MORE. A violent earthquake had shaken Cape
Bathurst. Such convulsions were probably frequent in this volcanic
region, and the connection between them and eruptions was once more
demonstrated.
Hobson well understood the significance of what had occurred, and waited
in anxious suspense. He knew that the earth might open and swallow up
the little colony; but only one shock was felt, and that was rather a
rebound than a vertical upheaval, which made the house lean over towards
the lake, and burst open its walls. Immediately after this one shock,
the ground again became firm and motionless.
The house, although damaged, was still habitable; the breaches in the
walls were quickly repaired, and the pipes of the chimneys were patched
together again somehow
Fortunately the wounds the soldiers had received in their struggle with
the bears were slight, and merely required dressing.
Two miserable days ensued, during which the woodwork of the beds and the
planks of the partition walls were burnt, and the most pressing repairs
executed by Mac-Nab and his men. The piles, well driven into the earth,
had not yielded; but it was evident that the earthquake had caused a
sinking of the level of the coast on which the fort was built, which
might seriously compromise the safety of the building. Hobson was most
anxious to ascertain the extent of the alteration of elevation, but the
pitiless cold prevented him from venturing outside.
But at last there were symptoms of an approaching change in the weather.
The stars shone with rather less brilliancy, and on the 11th January
the barometer fell slightly; hazy vapours floated in the air, the
condensation of which would raise the temperature; and on the 12th
January the wind veered to the south-west, and snow fell at irregular
intervals.
The thermometer outside suddenly rose to 15° above zero, and to the
frozen colonists it was like the beginning of spring.
At eleven o’clock the same morning all were out of doors. They were
like a band of captives unexpectedly set free. They were, however,
absolutely forbidden to go beyond the enceinte of the fort, in case of
awkward meetings.
The sun had not yet reappeared above the horizon, but it approached it
nearly enough to produce a long twilight, during which objects could be
distinctly seen to a distance of two miles; and Hobson’s first thought
was to ascertain what difference the earthquake had produced in the
appearance of the surrounding districts.
Certain changes had been effected. The crest of the promontory of Cape
Bathurst had been broken off, and large pieces of the cliff had been
flung upon the beach. The whole mass of the cape seemed to have been
bent towards the lake, altering the elevation of the plateau on
which the fort was built. The soil on the west appeared to have been
depressed, whilst that on the east had been elevated. One of the results
of this change of level would unfortunately be, that when the thaw set
in, the waters of the lake and of Paulina river, in obedience to the
law, requiring liquids to maintain their level, would inundate a portion
of the western coast. The stream would probably scoop out another bed,
and the natural harbour at its mouth would be destroyed. The hills on
the eastern bank seemed to be considerably depressed, but the cliffs on
the west were too far off for any accurate observations to be made. The
important alteration produced by the earthquake may, in fact, be summed
up in a very few words : the horizontal character of the ground was
replaced by a slope from east to west.
“Well, Lieutenant,” said Mrs Barnett, laughing, “you were good
enough to give my name to the port and river, and now there will be
neither Paulina river nor Port Barnett. I must say I have been hardly
used.”
“Well, madam,” replied Hobson, “although the river is gone, the
lake remains, and we will call it Lake Barnett. I hope that it at least
will remain true to you.”
Mr and Mrs Joliffe, on leaving the house, had hurried, one to the
doghouse, the other to the reindeer-stable. The dogs had not suffered
much from their lone, confinement, and rushed into the court barking
with delight. One reindeer had died, but the others, though thin,
appeared to be in good health.
“Well, madam,” said the Lieutenant, “we have got through our
troubles better than we could have expected.”
“I never despaired,” replied the lady. “The miseries of an Arctic
-winter would not conquer men like you and your companions.”
“To own the truth, madam,” replied Hobson, “I never experienced
such intense cold before, in all the years I have spent in the north;
and if it had lasted many days longer we should all have been lost.”
“The earthquake came in the nick of time then, not only to drive away
the bears, but also to modify the extremity of the cold?”
“Perhaps so, madam. All natural phenomena influence each other to a
certain extent. But the volcanic structure of the soil makes me rather
uneasy. I cannot but regret the close vicinity of this active volcano.
If the lava from it cannot reach us, the earthquakes connected with it
can. Just look at our house now!”
“Oh, all that can be put right when the fine weather comes, and
you will make it all the stronger for the painful experience you have
gained.”
“Of course we shall, but meanwhile I am afraid you won’t find it
very comfortable.”
“Are you speaking to me, Lieutenant? to an old traveller like me? I
shall imagine myself one of the crew of a small vessel, and now that it
does not pitch and toss, I shall have no fear of being sea-sick.”
“What you say does not surprise me,” replied Hobson; “we all know
your grandeur of character, your moral courage and imperturbable good
temper. You have done much to help us all to bear our troubles, and I
thank you in my own name and that of my men.”
“You flatter me, Lieutenant; you flatter me.”
“No, no; I only say what every one thinks. But may I ask you one
question. You know that next June, Captain Craventy is to send us a
convoy with provisions, which will take back our furs to Fort Reliance.
I suppose our friend Thomas Black, after having seen his eclipse, will
return with the Captain’s men. Do you mean to accompany him?”
“Do you mean to send me back?” asked the lady with a smile.
“O madam !”--
“Well, my superior officer,” replied Mrs Barnett, extending her
hand to the Lieutenant, “I shall ask you to allow me to spend another
winter at Fort Hope. Next year one of the Company’s ships will
probably anchor off Cape Bathurst, and I shall return in it. Having come
overland, I should like to go back by Behring Strait.”
The Lieutenant was delighted with his companion’s decision. The two
had become sincerely attached to each other, and had many tastes and
qualities in common. The hour of separation could not fail to be painful
to both; and who could tell what further trials awaited `the colonists,
in which their combine, influence might sustain the courage of the rest?
On the 20th January the sun at last reappeared, and the Polar night was
at an end. It only remained above the horizon for a few minutes, and
was greeted with joyous hurrahs by the settlers. From this date the days
gradually increased in length.
Throughout the month of February, and until the 15th March, there were
abrupt transitions from fine to bad weather. The fine days were so cold
that the hunters could not go out; and in the bad weather snowstorms
kept them in. It was only between whiles that any outdoor work could
be done; and long excursions were out of the question. There was no
necessity for them, however, as the traps were in full activity. In the
latter end of the winter, martens, foxes, ermines, wolverines, and
other valuable animals were taken in large numbers, and the trappers had
plenty to do.
In March an excursion was ventured on as far as Walruses’ Bay and it
was noticed that the earthquake had considerably altered the form of the
cliffs, which were much depressed; whilst the igneous hills beyond,
with their summits wrapped in mist, seemed to look larger and more
threatening than ever.
About the 20th March the hunters sighted the first swans migrating from
the south, and uttering shrill cries as they flew. A few snow buntings
and winter hawks were also seen. But the ground was still covered with
thick layers of frozen snow, and the sun was powerless to melt the hard
surface of the lake and sea.
The breaking up of the frost did not commence until early in April. The
ice burst with a noise like the discharge of artillery.
Sudden changes took place in the appearance of the icebergs broken by
collisions, undermined by the action of the water once more set free,
huge masses rolled over with an awful crash, in consequence of the
displacement of their centre of gravity, causing fractures and fissures
in the ice-fields which greatly accelerated their breaking up.
At this time the mean temperature was 32° above zero, so that the
upper layer of ice on the beach rapidly dissolved, whilst the chain of
icebergs, drifted along by the currents of the Polar Sea, gradually drew
back and became lost in the fogs on the horizon. On the 15th April the
sea was open, and a vessel from the Pacific Ocean coming through Behring
Strait, could certainly have skirted along the American coast, and have
anchored off Cape Bathurst.
Whilst the ice was disappearing from the ocean, Lake Barnett was also
laying aside its slippery armour, much to the delight of the thousands
of ducks and other water-fowl which began to teem upon its banks. As
Hobson had foreseen, however, the level of the lake was affected by the
slope of the soil. That part of the beach which stretched away from the
enceinte of the fort, and was bounded on the east by wooded hills, had
increased considerably in extent; and Hobson estimated that the waters
of the lake had receded five hundred paces on the eastern bank. As a
natural consequence, the water on the western side had risen, and if not
held back by some natural barrier, would inundate the country.
On the whole, it was fortunate that the slope was from east to west; for
had it been from west to east, the factory must have been submerged.
The little river dried up as soon as the thaw set free its waters. It
might almost be said to have run back to its source, so abrupt was the
slope of its bed from north to south.
“We have now to erase a river from the map of the Arctic regions,”
observed Hobson to his Sergeant. “It would have been embarrassing if
we had been dependent on the truant for drinkable water. Fortunately
we have still Lake Barnett, and I don’t suppose our thirsty men will
drain it quite dry.”
“Yes, we’ve got the lake,” replied the Sergeant; “but do you
think its waters have remained sweet?”
Hobson started and looked at his subordinate with knitted brows. It had
not occurred to him that a fissure in the ground might have established
a communication between the lake and the sea! Should it be so, ruin must
ensue, and the factory would inevitably have to be abandoned after all.
The Lieutenant and Hobson rushed to the lake and found their fears
groundless. Its waters were still sweet.
Early in May the snow had disappeared in several places, and a scanty
vegetation clothed the soil. Tiny mosses and slender grasses timidly
pushed up their stems above the ground, and the sorrel and cochlearia
seeds which Mrs Joliffe had planted began to sprout. The carpet of snow
had protected them through the bitter winter; but they had still to be
saved from the beaks of birds and the teeth of rodents. This arduous
and important task was confided to the worthy Corporal, who acquitted
himself of it with the zeal and devotion of a scarecrow in a kitchen
garden.
The long days had now returned, and hunting was resumed.
Hobson was anxious to have a good stock of furs for the agents from Fort
Reliance to take charge of when they arrived, as they would do in a
few weeks. Marbre, Sabine, and the others, therefore, commenced the
campaign. Their excursions were neither long nor fatiguing : they never
went further than two miles from Cape Bathurst, for they had never
before been in a district so well stocked with game; and they were both
surprised and delighted. Martens, reindeer, hares, caribous, foxes, and
ermines passed close to their guns.
One thing, however, excited some regret in the minds of the colonists,
not a trace was to be seen of their old enemies the bears; and it
seemed as if they had taken all their relations with them. Perhaps
the earthquake had frightened them away, for they have a very delicate
nervous organisation, if such an expression can be applied to a mere
quadruped. It was a pity they were gone, for vengeance could not be
wreaked upon them.
The month of May was very wet. Rain and snow succeeded each other.
The mean temperature was only 41° above zero. Fogs were of frequent
occurrence, and so thick that it would often have been imprudent to
go any distance from the fort. Petersen and Kellet once caused their
companions grave anxiety by disappearing for forty-eight hours. They had
lost their way, and turned to the south when they thought they were near
to Walruses’ Bay. They came back exhausted and half dead with hunger.
June came at last, and with it really fine warm weather. The colonists
were able to leave off their winter clothing. They worked zealously at
repairing the house, the foundations of which had to be propped up; and
Hobson also ordered the construction of a large magazine at the southern
corner of the court. The quantity of game justified the expenditure
of time and labour involved : the number of furs collected was already
considerable, and it was necessary to have some place set aside in which
to keep them.
The Lieutenant now expected every day the arrival of the detachment to
be sent by Captain Craventy. A good many things were still required for
the new settlement. The stores were getting low; and if the party had
left the fort in the beginning of May, they ought to reach Cape Bathurst
towards the middle of June. It will be remembered that the Captain and
his Lieutenant had fixed upon the cape as the spot of rendezvous, and
Hobson having constructed his fort on it, there was no fear of the
reinforcements failing to find him.
From the 15th June the districts surrounding the cape were carefully
watched. The British flag waved from the summit of the cliff, and could
be seen at a considerable distance. It was probable that the convoy
would follow the Lieutenant’s example, and skirt along the coast from
Coronation Gulf. If not exactly the shortest, it was the surest route,
at a time when, the sea being free from ice, the coast-line could be
easily followed.
When the month of June passed without the arrival of the expected party,
Hobson began to feel rather uneasy, especially as the country again
became wrapped in fogs. He began to fear that the agents might lose
their way, and often talked the matter over with Mrs Barnett, Mac-Nab,
and Rae.
Thomas Black made no attempt to conceal his uneasiness, for he was
anxious to return with the party from Fort Reliance as soon as he had
seen his eclipse; and should anything keep them back from coming, he
would have to resign himself to another winter, a prospect which did not
please him at all; and in reply to his eager questions, Hobson could say
little to reassure him.
The 4th July dawned. No news! Some men sent to the southeast to
reconnoitre, returned, bringing no tidings.
Either the agents had never started, or they had lost their way. The
latter hypothesis was unfortunately the more probable. Hobson knew
Captain Craventy, and felt confident that he had sent off the convoy at
the time named.
His increasing anxiety will therefore be readily understood. The fine
season was rapidly passing away. Another two months and the Arctic
winter, with its bitter winds, its whirlpools of snow, and its long
nights, would again set in.
Hobson, as we well know, was not a man to yield to misfortune without a
struggle. Something must be done, and with the ready concurrence of the
astronomer the following plan was decided on.
It was now the 5th July. In another fortnight-July 18th-the solar
eclipse was to take place, and after that Thomas Black would be free to
leave Fort Hope. It was therefore agreed that if by that time the agents
had not arrived, a convoy of a few men and four or five sledges should
leave the factory, and make for the Great Slave Lake, taking with them
some of the most valuable furs; and if no accident befell them, they
might hope to arrive at Fort Reliance in six weeks at the latest-that is
to say, towards the end of August.
This matter settled, Thomas Black shrank back into his shell, and
became once more the man of one idea, awaiting the moment when the moon,
passing between the orb of day and “himself,” should totally eclipse
the disc of the sun.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE ECLIPSE OF THE 18TH JULY 1860. The mists did not
disperse. The sun shone feebly through thick curtains of fog, and the
astronomer began to have a great dread lest the eclipse should not be
visible after all. Sometimes the fog was so dense that the summit of the
cape could not be seen from the court of the fort.
Hobson got more and more uneasy. He had no longer any doubt that
the convoy had gone astray in the strange land; moreover, vague
apprehensions and sad forebodings increased his depression. He could not
look into the future with any confidence--why, he would have found it
impossible to explain. Everything apparently combined to reassure him.
In spite of the great rigour of the winter, his little colony was in
excellent health. No quarrels had arisen amongst the colonists, and
their zeal and enthusiasm was still unabated. The surrounding districts
were well stocked with game, the harvest of furs had surpassed his
expectations, and the Company might well be satisfied with the result
of the enterprise. Even if no fresh supply of provisions arrived, the
resources of the country were such that the prospect of a second winter
need awake no misgivings. Why, then, was Lieutenant Hobson losing hope
and confidence?
He and Mrs Barnett had many a talk on the subject; and the latter did
all she could to raise the drooping spirits of the commanding officer,
urging upon him all the considerations enumerated above; and one day
walking with him along the beach, she pleaded the cause of Cape Bathurst
and the factory, built at the cost of-so much suffering, with more than
usual eloquence.
“Yes, yes, madam, you are right,” replied Hobson; “but we
can’t help our presentiments. I am no visionary. Twenty times in my
soldier’s life I have been in critical circumstances, and have never
lost presence of mind for one instant; and now for the first time in my
life I am uneasy about the future. If I had to face a positive danger, I
should have no fear; but a vague uncertain peril of which I have only a
presentiment “
“What danger do you mean?” inquired Mrs Barnett; “a danger from
men, from animals, or the elements?”
“Of animals I have no dread whatever, madam; it is for them to tremble
before the hunters of Cape Bathurst, nor do I fear men; these districts
are frequented by none but Esquimaux, and the Indians seldom venture so
far north.”
“Besides, Lieutenant,” said Mrs Barnett, “the Canadians, whose
arrival you so much feared in the fine season, have never appeared.”
“I am very sorry for it, madam.”
“What! you regret the absence of the rivals who are so evidently
hostile to your Company?”
“Madam, I am both glad and sorry that they have not come; that will
of course puzzle you. But observe that the expected convoy from Fort
Reliance has not arrived. It is the same with. the agents of the St
Louis Fur Company; they might have come, and they have not done so. Not
a single Esquimaux has visited this part of the coast during the summer
either”--
“And what do you conclude from all this?” inquired Mrs Barnett.
“I conclude that it is not so easy to get to Cape Bathurst or to Fort
Hope as we could wish.”
The lady looked into the Lieutenant’s anxious face, struck with the
melancholy and significant intonation of the word easy.
“Lieutenant Hobson,” she said earnestly, “if you fear neither
men nor animals, I must conclude that your anxiety has reference to the
elements.”
“Madam,” he replied, “I do not know if my spirit be broken, or if
my presentiments blind me, but there seems to me to be something uncanny
about this district. If I had known it better I should not have
settled down in it. I have already called your attention to certain
peculiarities, which to me appear inexplicable; the total absence of
stones everywhere, and the clear-cut line of the coast. I can’t make
out about the primitive formation of this end of the continent. I
know that the vicinity of a volcano may cause some phenomena; but you
remember what I said to you on the subject of the tides?”
“Oh yes, perfectly.”
“Where the sea ought according to the observations of explorers in
these latitudes, to have risen fifteen or twenty feet, it has scarcely
risen one !”
“Yes; but that you accounted for by the irregular distribution of land
and the narrowness of the straits.”
“I tried to account for it, that is all,” replied Hobson; “but the
day before yesterday I noticed a still more extraordinary phenomenon,
which I cannot even try to explain, and I doubt if the greatest savants
could do so either.”
Mrs Barnett looked inquiringly at Hobson.
“What has happened?” she exclaimed.
“Well, the day before yesterday, madam, when the moon was full, and
according to the almanac the tide ought to have been very high, the sea
did not even rise one foot, as it did before-it did not rise at all.”
“Perhaps you may be mistaken observed Mrs Barnett.
“I am not mistaken. I saw it with my own eyes. The day before
yesterday, July 4th, there was positively no tide on the coast of Cape
Bathurst.”
“And what do you conclude from that?” inquired Mrs Barnett.
“I conclude madam,” replied the Lieutenant, “either that the laws
of nature are changed, or that this district is very peculiarly situated
. . . or rather . . . I conclude nothing . . . I explain nothing . . . I
am puzzled. . . I do not understand it; and therefore . . . therefore I
am anxious.”
Mrs Barnett asked no more questions. Evidently the total absence of
tides was as unnatural and inexplicable as would be the absence of the
sun from the meridian at noon. Unless the earthquake had so modified the
conformation of the coast of the Arctic regions as to account for it-but
no, such an idea could not be entertained by any one accustomed to note
terrestrial phenomena.
As for supposing that the Lieutenant could be mistaken in his
observations, that was impossible; and that very day he and Mrs Barnett,
by means of beach-marks made on the beach, ascertained beyond all doubt
that whereas a year before the sea rose a foot, there was now no tide
whatever.
The matter was kept a profound secret, as Hobson was unwilling to render
his companions anxious. But he might often be seen standing motionless
and silent upon the summit of the cape, gazing across the sea, which was
now open, and stretched away as far as the eye could reach.
During the month of July hunting the furred animals was discontinued, as
the martens, foxes, and others had already lost their winter beauty.
No game was brought down but that required for food, such as caribous,
Polar hares, &c., which, strange to say, instead of being scared away by
the guns, continued to multiply near the fort. Mrs Barnett did not fail
to note this peculiar, and, as the event proved, significant fact.
No change had taken place in the situation on the 15th July. No news
from Fort Reliance. The expected convoy did not arrive, and Hobson
resolved to execute his project of sending to Captain Craventy, as
Captain Craventy did not come to him.
Of course none but Sergeant Long could be appointed to the command of
the little troop, although the faithful fellow would rather not have
been separated from his Lieutenant. A considerable time must necessarily
elapse before he could get back to Fort Hope. He would have to pass the
winter at Fort Reliance, and return the next summer. Eight months
at least! It is true either Mac-Nab or Rae could have taken the
Sergeant’s place; but then they were married, and the one being a
master carpenter, and the other the only blacksmith, the colonists could
not well have dispensed with their services.
Such were the grounds on which the Lieutenant chose Long, and the
Sergeant submitted with military obedience. The four soldiers elected
to accompany him were Belcher, Pond, Petersen, and Kellet, who declared
their readiness to start.
Four sledges and their teams of dogs were told off for the service. They
were to take a good stock of provisions, and the most valuable of the
furs. Foxes, ermines, martens, swans, lynxes, musk-rats, gluttons, &c.,
all contributed to the precious convoy. The start was fixed for the
morning of the 19th July, the day after the eclipse. Of course Thomas
Black was to accompany the Sergeant, and one sledge was to convoy his
precious person and instruments.
The worthy savant endured agonies of suspense in the few days preceding
the phenomenon which he awaited with so much impatience. He might well
be anxious; for one day it was fine and another wet, now mists obscured
the sun, or thick fogs hid it all together; and the wind veered to every
point of the horizon with provoking fickleness and uncertainty. What
if during the few moments of the eclipse the queen of the night and the
great orb of day should be wrapped in an opaque cloud at the critical
moment, so that he, the astronomer, Thomas Black, come so far to watch
the phenomenon, should be unable to see the luminous corona or the red
prominences! How terrible would be the disappointment! How many dangers,
how much suffering, how much fatigue, would have been gone through in
vain !
“To have come so far to see the moon, and not to see it!” he cried
in a comically piteous tone.
No, he could not face the thought and early of an evening he would climb
to the summit of the cape and gaze into the heavens. The fair Phoebe
was nowhere to be seen; for it being three days before new moon, she was
accompanying the sun in his daily course, and her light was quenched in
his beams.
Many a time did Thomas Black relieve his over-burdened heart by pouring
out his troubles to Mrs Barnett. The good lady felt sincerely sorry
for him, and one day, anxious to reassure him, she told him that the
barometer showed a certain tendency to rise, and reminded him that they
were in the fine season.
The fine season !” cried the poor astronomer” shrugging his
shoulders. “Who can speak of a fine season in such a country as
this?”
“Well, but, Mr Black,” said Mrs Barnett, “suppose, for the sake
of argument, that you miss this eclipse by any unlucky chance, I suppose
there will be another some day. The eclipse of July 18th will not be the
last of this century.”
“No, madam, no,” returned Black; “there will be five more total
eclipses of the sun before 1900. One on the 31st December 1861, which
will be total for the Atlantic Ocean, the Mediterranean, and the Sahara
Desert; a second on the 22d December 1870, total for the Azores, the
south of Spain, Algeria, Sicily, and Turkey; a third on the 19th August
1887, total for the north-east of Germany, the south of Russia, and
Central Asia; a fourth on the 9th April 1896, visible in Greenland,
Lapland, and Siberia; and lastly, a fifth on the 28th May 1900, which
will be total for the United States, Spain, Algeria, and
Egypt.”
“Well, Mr Black,” resumed Mrs Barnett, “if you lose the eclipse of
the 18th July 1860, you can console yourself by looking forward to that
of the 31st December 1861. It will only be seventeen months !”
“I can console myself, madam,” said the astronomer gravely, “by
looking forward to that of 1896. I shall have to wait not seventeen
months but thirty-six years !”
“May I ask why?”
“Because of all the eclipses, it alone-that of 9th August 1896-will
be total for places in high latitudes, such as Lapland, Siberia, or
Greenland.”
“But what is the special interest of an observation taken in these
elevated latitudes?”
“What special interest?” cried Thomas Black; why, a scientific
interest of the highest importance. Eclipses have very rarely been
watched near the Pole, where the sun, being very little above the
horizon, is considerably increased in size. The disc of the moon which
is to intervene between us and the sun is subject to a similar apparent
extension, and therefore it may be that the red prominences and the
luminous corona can be more thoroughly examined This, madam, is why
I have travelled all this distance to watch the eclipse above the
seventieth parallel. A similar opportunity will not occur until 1896,
and who can tell if I shall be alive then?”
To this burst of enthusiasm there was no reply to be made; and the
astronomer’s anxiety and depression increased, for the inconstant
weather seemed more and more disposed to play him some ill-natured
trick.
It was very fine on the 16th July, but the next day it was cloudy and
misty and Thomas Black became really ill. The feverish state he had been
in for so long seemed likely to result in a serious illness. Mrs Barnett
and Hobson tried in vain to soothe him, and Sergeant Long and the others
could not understand how it was possible to be so unhappy for love of
the moon.”
At last the great day-the 18th July-dawned. According to the
calculations of astronomers, the total eclipse was to last four minutes
thirty-seven seconds-that is to say, from forty-three minutes fifteen
seconds past eleven to forty-seven minutes fifty-seven seconds past
eleven A.M.
“What do I ask? what do I ask?” moaned the astronomer, tearing his
hair. “Only one little corner of the sky free from clouds! only the
small space in which the eclipse is to take place ! And for how long?
For four short minutes! After that, let it snow, let it thunder, let the
elements break loose in fury, I should care no more for it all than a
snail for a chronometer.”
It is not to be denied that Thomas Black had some grounds for his
fears. It really seemed likely that observations would be impossible. At
daybreak the horizon was shrouded in mists Heavy clouds were coming up
from the south, and covering the very portion of the sky in which the
eclipse was to take place. But doubtless the patron saint of astronomers
had pity on poor Black, for towards eight o’clock a slight wind arose
and swept the mists and clouds from the sky, leaving it bright and
clear!
A cry of gratitude burst from the lips of the astronomer, and his heart
beat high with newly-awakened hope. The sun shone brightly, and the
moon, so soon to darken it, was as yet invisible in its glorious beams.
Thomas Black’s instruments were already carefully placed on the
promontory, and having pointed them towards the southern horizon, he
awaited the event with calmness restored, and the coolness necessary for
taking his observation. What was there left to fear?
Nothing, unless it was that the sky might fall upon his head! At nine
o’clock there was not a cloud, not a vapour left upon the sky from the
zenith to the horizon. Never were circumstances more favourable to an
astronomical observation.
The whole party were anxious to take part in the observation, and all
gathered round the astronomer on Cape Bathurst. Gradually the sun rose
above the horizon, describing an extended arc above the vast plain
stretching away to the south. No one spoke, but awaited the eclipse in
solemn silence.
Towards half-past nine the eclipse commenced The disc of the moon
seemed to graze that of the sun. But the moon’s shadow was not to
fall completely on the earth, hiding the sun, until between forty three
minutes past eleven and forty-seven minutes fifty-seven seconds past
eleven. That was the time fixed in the almanacs, and every one knows
that no error can creep into them, established, verified, and controlled
as they are by the scientific men of all the observatories in the world.
The astronomer had brought a good many glasses with him, and he
distributed them amongst his companions, that all might watch the
progress of the phenomenon without injury to the eyes.
The brown disc of the moon gradually advanced, and terrestrial objects
began to assume a peculiar orange hue, whilst the atmosphere on tire
zenith completely changed colour. At a quarter-past ten half the disc
of the sun was darkened, and a few dogs which happened to be at liberty
showed signs of uneasiness and howled piteously. The wild ducks,
thinking night had come, began to utter sleepy calls -and to seek their
nests, and the mothers gathered their little ones under their wings. The
hush of eventide fell upon all animated nature.
At eleven o’clock two-thirds of the sun were covered, and all
terrestrial objects became a kind of vinous red. A gloomy twilight set
in, to be succeeded during the four minutes of totality by absolute
darkness. A few planets, amongst t others Mercury and Venus, began
to appear, and some constellations--Caplet, [symbol] and [symbol] of
Taurus, and [symbol] of Orion. The darkness deepened every moment.
Thomas Black remained motionless with his eye glued to the glass of
his instrument, eagerly watching the progress of the phenomenon. At
forty-three minutes past eleven the discs of the two luminaries ought
to be exactly opposite to each other, that of the moon completely hiding
that of the sun.
“Forty-three minutes past eleven,” announced Hobson, who was
attentively watching the minute hand of his chronometer.
Thomas Black remained motionless, stooping over his instrument. Half a
minute passed, and then the astronomer [astonomer] drew himself up,
with eyes distended and eager. Once more he bent over the telescope, and
cried in a choked voice--
“She is going! she is going! The moon, the moon is going! She is
disappearing, running away !”
True enough the disc of the moon was gliding away from that of the sun
without having completely covered it !
The astronomer had fallen backwards, completely overcome. The four
minutes were past. The luminous corona had not appeared !
“What is the matter?” inquired Hobson.
“The matter is,” screamed the poor astronomer, “that the eclipse
was not total-not total for this portion of the globe! Do you hear? It
was not to-t-a-1! I say not to-t-a-l! !”
“Then your almanacs are incorrect.”
“Incorrect! Don’t tell that to me, if you please, Lieutenant Hobson
!”
“But what then?” said Hobson, suddenly changing countenance.
“Why,” said Black, “we are not after all on the seventieth
parallel !”
“Only fancy !” cried Mrs Barnett.
“We can soon prove it,” said the astronomer whose eyes flashed with
rage and disappointment. “The sun will pass the meridian in a few
minutes. . . . My sextant-quick . . . make haste !”
One of the soldiers rushed to the house and fetched the instrument
required.
The astronomer pointed it upon the sun; he watched the orb of day pass
the meridian, and rapidly noted down a few calculations.
“What was the situation of Cape Bathurst a year ago when we took the
latitude?” he inquired.
“Seventy degrees, forty-four minutes, and thirty-seven seconds,”
replied Hobson.
“Well, sir, it is now seventy-three degrees, seven minutes, and twenty
seconds! You see we are not under the seventieth parallel !
“Or rather we are no longer there !” muttered Hobson.
A sudden light had broken in upon his mind, all the phenomena hitherto
so inexplicable were now explained.
Cape Bathurst had drifted three degrees farther north since the arrival
of the Lieutenant and his companions !
End of Part I PART II CONTENTS. I.
A Floating Fort
II.
Where Are We?
III.
A Tour Of The Island
IV.
A Night Encampment
V.
From July 25th To August 20th
VI.
Ten Days Of Tempest
VII.
A Fire And A Cry
VIII.
Mrs. Paulina Barnett’s Excursion
IX.
Kalumah’s Adventures
X.
The Kamtchatka Current
XI.
A Communication From Lieutenant Hobson
XII.
A Chance To Be Tried
XIII.
Across The Ice-Field
XIV.
The Winter Months
XV.
A Last Exploring Expedition
XVI.
The Break-Up Of The Ice
XVII.
The Avalanche
XVIII.
All At Work
XIX.
Behring Sea
XX.
In The Offing
XXI.
The Island Becomes An Isle
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582
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