for the speedy arrival of the winter, with its bitter cold! Would that
the column of mercury were frozen in its cistern! Nothing but the rigour
of an Arctic winter could consolidate and thicken the foundation of
their island, and establish a means of communication between it and the
continent.
Hobson returned to the halting-place little cheered by his discoveries,
and found Long busy making arrangements for the night; for he had no
idea of sleeping beneath the open sky, although Mrs Barnett declared
herself quite ready to do so. He told the Lieutenant that he intended to
dig a hole in the ice big enough to hold three persons--in fact to make
a kind of snow-hut, in which they would be protected from the cold night
air.
“In the land of the Esquimaux,” he said, “nothing is wiser than to
do as the Esquimaux do.”
Hobson approved, but advised the Sergeant not to dig too deeply, as the
ice was not more than five feet thick.
Long set to work. With the aid of his hatchet and ice-chisel he had
soon cleared away the earth, and hollowed out a kind of passage sloping
gently down to the crust of ice.
He next attacked the brittle mass, which had been covered over with sand
and earth for so many centuries. It would not take more than an hour to
hollow out a subterranean retreat, or rather a burrow with walls of
ice, which would keep in the heat, and therefore serve well for a
resting-place during the short night.
Whilst Long was working away like a white ant, Hobson communicated the
result of his observations to Mrs Barnett. He did not disguise from her
that the construction of Victoria Island rendered him very uneasy. He
felt sure that the thinness of the ice would lead to the opening of
ravines on the surface before long; where, it would be impossible to
foresee, and of course it would be equally impossible to prevent them.
The wandering Island might at any moment settle down in consequence of
a change in its specific gravity, or break up into more or less numerous
islets, the duration of which must necessarily be ephemeral. He judged,
therefore, that it would be best for the members of the colony to keep
together as much as possible, and not to leave the fort, that they might
all share the same chances.
Hobson was proceeding further to unfold his views when cries for help
were heard.
Mrs Barnett started to her feet, and both looked round in every
direction, but nothing was to be seen.
The cries were now redoubled, and Hobson exclaimed--
“The Sergeant! the Sergeant!”
And followed by Mrs Barnett, he rushed towards the burrow, and he had
scarcely reached the opening of the snow-house before he saw Sergeant
Long clutching with both hands at his knife, which he had stuck in the
wall of ice, and calling out loudly, although with the most perfect
self-possession.
His head and arms alone were visible. Whilst he was digging, the ice had
given way suddenly beneath him, and he was plunged into water up to his
waist.
Hobson merely said--
“Keep hold!”
And creeping through the passage, he was soon at the edge of the hole.
The poor Sergeant seized his hand, and he was soon rescued from his
perilous position.
“Good God! Sergeant!” exclaimed Mrs Barnett; “what has
happened?”
“Nothing,” replied Long, shaking himself like a wet spaniel,
“except that the ice gave way under me, and I took a compulsory
bath.”
“You forgot what I told you about not digging too deeply, then,”
said Hobson.
“Beg pardon, sir; I hadn’t cut through fifteen inches of the ice,
and I expect there was a kind of cavern where I was working-the ice
did not touch the water. It was just like going through a ceiling. If I
hadn’t been able to hang on by my knife, I should have slipped under
the island like a fool, and that would have been a pity, wouldn’t it,
madam?”
“A very great pity, my brave fellow,” said Mrs Barnett, pressing his
hand.
Long’s explanation was correct; for some reason or another--most
likely from an accumulation of air-the ice had formed a kind of vault
above the water, and of course it soon gave way under the weight of the
Sergeant and the blows of his chisel.
The same thing might happen in other parts of the island, which was
anything but reassuring. Where could they be certain of treading on firm
ground? Might not the earth give way beneath their feet at any minute?
What heart, however brave, would not have sunk at the thought of the
thin partition between them and the awful gulf of the ocean?
Sergeant Long, however, thought but little of his bath, and was ready
to begin mining in some other place. This Mrs Barnett would not allow.
A night in the open air would do her no harm; the shelter of the coppice
near would be protection enough for them all; and Sergeant Long was
obliged to submit.
The camp was, therefore, moved back some thirty yards from the beach,
to a rising ground on which grew a few clumps of pines and willows which
could scarcely be called a wood. Towards ten o’clock the disc of the
sun began to dip below the horizon, and before it disappeared for the
few hours of the night a crackling fire of dead branches was blazing at
the camp.
Long had now a fine opportunity of drying his legs, of which he gladly
availed himself. He and Hobson talked together earnestly until twilight
set in, and Mrs Barnett occasionally joined in the conversation, doing
the best she could to cheer the disheartened Lieutenant. The sky was
bright with stars, and the holy influence of the night could not fail
to calm his troubled spirit. The wind murmured softly amongst the pines;
even the sea appeared to be wrapt in slumber, its bosom slightly heaving
with the swell, which died away upon the beach with a faint rippling
sound. All creation was hushed, not even the wail of a sea bird broke
upon the ear, the crisp crackling of the dead branches was exchanged for
a steady flame, and nothing but the voices of the wanderers broke the
sublime, the awful silence of the night.
“Who would imagine,” said Mrs Barnett, “that we were floating on
the surface of the ocean! It really requires an effort to realise it,
for the sea which is carrying us along in its fatal grasp appears to be
absolutely motionless!”
“Yes, madam,” replied Hobson;” and if the floor of our carriage
were solid, if I did not know that sooner or later the keel of our boat
will be missing, that some day its hull will burst open, and finally, if
I knew where we are going, I should rather enjoy floating on the ocean
like this.”
“Well, Lieutenant,” rejoined Mrs Barnett, “could there be a
pleasanter mode of travelling than ours? We feel no motion. Our island
has exactly the same speed as the current which is bearing it away. Is
it not like a balloon voyage in the air? What could be more delightful
than advancing with one’s house, garden, park, &c.? A wandering
island, with a solid insubmersible foundation, would really be the most
comfortable and wonderful conveyance that could possibly be imagined. I
have heard of hanging gardens. Perhaps some day floating parks will be
invented which will carry us all over the globe! Their size will render
them insensible to the action of the waves, they will have nothing
to fear from storms, and perhaps with a favourable wind they might be
guided by means of immense sails! What marvels of vegetation would be
spread before the eyes of the passengers when they passed from temperate
to torrid zones! With skilful pilots, well acquainted with the currents,
it might be possible to remain in one latitude, and enjoy a perpetual
spring.”
Hobson could not help smiling at Mrs Barnett’s fancies. The brave
woman ran on with such an easy flow of words, she talked with as little
effort as Victoria Island moved. And was she not right? It would have
been a very pleasant mode of travelling if there had been no danger of
their conveyance melting and being swallowed up by the sea.
The night passed on, and the explorers slept a few hours. At daybreak
they breakfasted, and thoroughly enjoyed their meal. The warmth and
rest had refreshed them, and they resumed their journey at about six
o’clock A.M.
From Cape Michael to the former Port Barnett the coast ran in an almost
straight line from south to north for about eleven miles. There was
nothing worthy of note about it; the shores were low and pretty even all
the way, and seemed to have suffered no alteration since the breaking
of the isthmus. Long, in obedience to the Lieutenant, made bench marks
along the beach, that any future change might be easily noted.
Hobson was naturally anxious to get back to Fort Hope the same day, and
Mrs Barnett was also eager to return to her friends. It was of course
desirable under the circumstances that the commanding officer should not
be long absent from the fort
All haste was therefore made, and by taking a short cut they arrived at
noon at the little promontory which formerly protected Port Barnett from
the east winds.
It was not more than eight miles from this point to Fort Hope, and
before four o’clock P.M the shouts of Corporal Joliffe welcomed their
return to the factory.
CHAPTER V. FROM JULY 25TH TO AUGUST 20TH. Hobson’s first care on his
return to the fort, was to make inquiries of Thomas Black as to the
situation of the little colony. No change had taken place for the last
twenty-four hours, but, as subsequently appeared, the island had floated
one degree of latitude further south, whilst still retaining its motion
towards the west. It was now at the same distance from the equator as
Icy Cape, a little promontory of western Alaska, and two hundred miles
from the American coast. The speed of the current seemed to be less here
than in the eastern part of the Arctic Ocean, but the island continued
to advance, and, much to Hobson’s annoyance, towards the dreaded
Behring Strait. It was now only the 24th July, and a current of average
speed would carry it in another month through the strait and into the
heated waves of the Pacific, where it would melt “like a lump of sugar
in a glass of water.”
Mrs Barnett acquainted Madge with the result of the exploration of the
island. She explained to her the arrangement of the layers of earth and
ice at the part where the isthmus had been broken off; told her that
the thickness of the ice below the sea level was estimated at five feet;
related the accident to Sergeant Long--in short, she made her fully
understand the reasons there were to fear the breaking up or sinking of
the ice field.
The rest of the colony had, however, no suspicion of the truth; a
feeling of perfect security prevailed. It never occurred to any of the
brave fellows that Fort Hope was floating above an awful abyss, and
that the lives of all its inhabitants were in danger. All were in good
health, the weather was fine, and the climate pleasant and bracing.
The baby Michael got on wonderfully; he was beginning to toddle about
between the house and the palisade; and Corporal Joliffe, who was
extremely fond of him, was already beginning to teach him to hold a
gun, and to understand the first duties of a soldier. Oh, if Mrs Joliffe
would but present him with such a son! but, alas! the blessing of
children, for which he and his wife prayed every day, was as yet denied
to them.
Meanwhile the soldiers had plenty to do.
Mac-Nab and his men--Petersen, Belcher, Garry, Pond, and Hope--worked
zealously at the construction of a boat, a difficult task, likely to
occupy them for several months. But as their vessel would be of no use
until next year after the thaw, they neglected none of their duties at
the factory on its account. Hobson let things go on as if the future of
the factory were not compromised, and persevered in keeping the men in
ignorance. This serious question was often discussed by the officer and
his “staff,” and Mrs Barnett and Madge differed from their chief on
the subject. They thought it would be better to tell the whole truth;
the men were brave and energetic, not likely to yield to despair, and
the shock would not be great if they heard of it now, instead of only
when their situation was so hopeless that it could not be concealed. But
in spite of the justice of these remarks, Hobson would not yield, and
he was supported by Sergeant Long. Perhaps, after all, they were right;
they were both men of long experience, and knew the temper of their men.
And so the work of provisioning and strengthening the fort proceeded.
The palisaded enceinte was repaired with new stakes, and made higher
in many places, so that it really formed a very strong fortification.
Mac-Nab also put into execution, with his chief’s approval, a plan he
had long had at heart. At the corners abutting on the lake he built two
little pointed sentry-boxes, which completed the defences; and Corporal
Joliffe anticipated with delight the time when he should be sent to
relieve guard: he felt that they gave a military look to the buildings,
and made them really imposing.
The palisade was now completely finished, and Mac-Nab, remembering the
sufferings of the last winter, built a new wood shed close up against
the house itself, with a door of communication inside, so that there
would be no need to go outside at all. By this contrivance the fuel
would always be ready to hand. On the left side of the house, opposite
the shed, Mac-Nab constructed a large sleeping-room for the soldiers, so
that the camp-bed could be removed from the common room. This room
was also to be used for meals, and work. The three married couples had
private rooms walled off, so that the large house was relieved of them
as well as of all the other soldiers. A magazine for furs only was also
erected behind the house near the powder-magazine, leaving the loft free
for stores; and the rafters and ribs of the latter were bound with iron
cramps, that they might be able to resist all attacks. Mac-Nab also
intended to build a little wooden chapel, which had been included in
Hobson’s original plan of the factory; but its erection was put off
until the next summer.
With what eager interest would the Lieutenant have once watched the
progress of his establishment! Had he been building on firm ground,
with what delight would he have watched the houses, sheds, and magazines
rising around him! He remembered the scheme of crowning Cape Bathurst
with a redoubt for the protection of Fort Hope with a sigh. The very
name of the factory, “Fort Hope,” made his heart sink within him;
for should it not more truly be called “Fort Despair?”
These various works took up the whole summer, and there was no time for
ennui. The construction of the boat proceeded rapidly. Mac-Nab meant it
to be of about thirty tons measurement, which would make it large
enough to carry some twenty passengers several hundred miles in the fine
season. The carpenter had been fortunate enough to find some bent pieces
of wood, so that he was able quickly to form the first ribs of the
vessel, and soon the stern and sternpost, fixed to the keel, were upon
the dockyard at the foot of Cape Bathurst.
Whilst the carpenters were busy with hatchets, saws, and adzes, the
hunters were eagerly hunting the reindeer and Polar hares, which
abounded near the fort. The Lieutenant, however, told Marbre and Sabine
not to go far away, stating as a reason, that until the buildings were
completed he did not wish to attract the notice of rivals. The truth
was, he did not wish the changes which had taken place to be noticed.
One day Marbre inquired if it was not now time to go to Walruses’
Bay, and get a fresh supply of morse-oil for burning, and Hobson replied
rather hastily--
“No, Marbre; it would be useless.”
The Lieutenant knew only too well that Walruses’ Bay was two hundred
miles away, and that there were no morses to be hunted on the island.
It must not be supposed that Hobson considered the situation desperate
even now. He often assured Mrs Barnett, Madge, and Long that he was
convinced the island would hold together until the bitter cold of winter
should thicken its foundation and arrest its course at one and the same
time.
After his journey of discovery, Hobson estimated exactly the area of
his new dominions. The island measured more than forty miles round, from
which its superficial area[r] would appear to be about one hundred and
forty miles at the least. By way of comparison, we may say that Victoria
Island was rather larger than St Helena, and its area was about the same
as that of Paris within the line of fortifications. If then it should
break up into fragments, the separate parts might still be of sufficient
size to be habitable for some time.
When Mrs Barnett expressed her surprise that a floating ice-field could
be so large, Hobson replied by reminding her of the observations of
Arctic navigators. Parry, Penny, and Franklin had met with ice-fields
in the Polar seas one hundred miles long and fifty broad. Captain Kellet
abandoned his boat on an ice-field measuring at least three hundred
square miles, and what was Victoria Island compared to it?
Its size was, however, sufficient to justify a hope that it would resist
the action of the warm currents until the cold weather set in. Hobson
would not allow himself to doubt; his despair arose rather from the
knowledge that the fruit of all his cares, anxieties, and dangers must
eventually be swallowed up by the deep, and it was no wonder that he
could take no interest in the works that were going on.
Mrs Barnett kept up a good heart through it all; she encouraged her
comrades in their work, and took her share in it, as if she had still a
future to look forward to. Seeing what an interest Mrs Joliffe took in
her plants, she joined her every day in the garden. There was now a fine
crop of sorrel and scurvy-grass--thanks to the Corporal’s unwearying
exertions to keep off the birds of every kind, which congregated by
hundreds.
The taming of the reindeer had been quite successful; there were now a
good many young, and little Michael had been partly brought up on the
milk of the mothers. There were now some thirty head in the herd which
grazed near the fort, and a supply of the herbage on which they feed was
dried and laid up for the winter. These useful animals, which are easily
domesticated, were already quite familiar with all the colonists, and
did not go far from the enceinte. Some of them were used in sledges to
carry timber backwards and forwards. A good many reindeer, still wild,
now fell into the trap half way between the fort and Port Barnett. It
will be remembered that a large bear was once taken in it; but nothing
of the kind occurred this season--none fell victims but the reindeer,
whose flesh was salted and laid by for future use. Twenty at least were
taken, which in the ordinary course of things would have gone down to
the south in the winter.
One day, however, the reindeer-trap suddenly became useless in
consequence of the conformation of the soil. After visiting it as usual,
the hunter Marbre approached Hobson, and said to him in a significant
tone--
“I have just paid my daily visit to the reindeer-trap, sir.”
“Well, Marbre, I hope you have been as successful to-day as yesterday,
and have caught a couple of reindeer,” replied Hobson.
“No, sir, no,” replied Marbre, with some embarrassment.
“Your trap has not yielded its ordinary contingent then?”
“No, sir; and if any animal had fallen in, it would certainly have
been drowned!”
“Drowned!” cried the Lieutenant, looking at the hunter with an
anxious expression.
“Yes, sir,” replied Marbre, looking attentively at his superior,
“the pit is full of water.”
“Ah!” said Hobson, in the tone of a man who attached no importance
to that, “you know your pit was partly hollowed out of ice; its walls
have melted with the heat of the sun, and then “--
“Beg pardon for interrupting you, sir,” said Marbre; “but the
water cannot have been produced by the melting of ice.”
“Why not, Marbre?” “Because if it came from ice it would be sweet,
as you explained to me once before. Now the water in our pit is salt!”
Master of himself as he was, Hobson could not help changing countenance
slightly, and he had not a word to say.
“Besides,” added Marbre, “I wanted to sound the trench, to see how
deep the water was, and to my great surprise, I can tell you, I could
not find the bottom.”
“Well, Marbre,” replied Hobson hastily, “there is nothing
so wonderful in that. Some fracture of the soil has established a
communication between the sea and the trap. So don’t be uneasy about
it, my brave fellow, but leave the trap alone for the present, and be
content with setting snares near the fort.”
Marbre touched his cap respectfully, and turned on his heel, but not
before he had given his chief a searching glance.
Hobson remained very thoughtful for a few moments. Marbre’s tidings
were of grave importance. It was evident that the bottom of the trench,
gradually melted by the warm waters of the sea, had given way.
Hobson at once called the Sergeant, and having acquainted him with the
incident, they went together, unnoticed by their companions, to the
beach at the foot of Cape Bathurst, where they had made the bench-marks.
They examined them carefully, and found that since they last did so, the
floating island had sunk six inches.
“We are sinking gradually,” murmured Sergeant Long. “The ice is
wearing away.”
“Oh for the winter! the winter!” cried Hobson, stamping his foot
upon the ground.
But as yet, alas! there was no sign of the approach of the cold season.
The thermometer maintained a mean height of 59° Fahrenheit, and during
the few hours of the night the column of mercury scarcely went down
three degrees.
Preparations for the approaching winter went on apace, and there
was really nothing wanting to Fort Hope, although it had not been
revictualled by Captain Craventy’s detachment. The long hours of the
Arctic night might be awaited in perfect security. The stores were of
course carefully husbanded. There still remained plenty of spirits, only
small quantities having been consumed; and there was a good stock of
biscuits, which, once gone, could not be replaced. Fresh venison and
salt meat were to be had in abundance, and with some antiscorbutic
vegetables, the diet was most healthy; and all the members of the little
colony were well.
A good deal of timber was cut in the woods clothing the eastern slopes
of Lake Barnett. Many were the birch-trees, pines, and firs which fell
beneath the axe of Mac-Nab, and were dragged to the house by the tamed
reindeer. The carpenter did not spare the little forest, although he cut
his wood judiciously; for he never dreamt that timber might fail him,
imagining, as he did, Victoria Island to be a peninsula, and knowing the
districts near Cape Michael to be rich in different species of trees.
Many a time did the unconscious carpenter congratulate his Lieutenant on
having chosen a spot so favoured by Heaven. Woods, game, furred animals,
a lagoon teeming with fish, plenty of herbs for the animals, and, as
Corporal Joliffe would have added, double pay for the men. Was not Cape
Bathurst a corner of a privileged land, the like of which was not to
be found in the whole Arctic regions? Truly Hobson was a favourite
of Heaven, and ought to return thanks to Providence every day for the
discovery of this unique spot.
Ah, Mac-Nab, you little knew how you wrung the heart of your master when
you talked in that strain!
The manufacture of winter garments was not neglected in the factory. Mrs
Barnett, Madge, Mrs Mac-Nab, Mrs Rae, and Mrs Joliffe--when she could
leave her fires--were alike indefatigable. Mrs Barnett knew that
they would all have to leave the fort in the depth of winter, and was
determined that every one should be warmly clothed. They would have to
face the bitterest cold for a good many days during the Polar night, if
Victoria Island should halt far from the continent. Boots and clothes
ought indeed to be strong and well made, for crossing some hundreds of
miles under such circumstances. Mrs Barnett and Madge devoted all their
energies to the matter in hand, and the furs, which they knew it would
be impossible to save, were turned to good account. They were used
double, so that the soft hair was both inside and outside of the
clothes; and when wearing them, the whole party would be as richly
attired as the grandest princesses, or the most wealthy ladies. Those
not in the secret were rather surprised at the free use made of the
Company’s property; but Hobson’s authority was not to be questioned,
and really martens, polecats, musk-rats, beavers, and foxes multiplied
with such rapidity near the fort, that all the furs used could easily
be replaced by a few shots, or the setting of a few traps; and when Mrs
Mac-Nab saw the beautiful ermine coat which had been made for her baby,
her delight was unbounded, and she no longer wondered at anything.
So passed the days until the middle of the month of August. The weather
continued fine, and any mists which gathered on the horizon were quickly
dispersed by the sunbeams.
Every day Hobson took the bearings, taking care, however, to go some
distance from the fort, that suspicions might not be aroused, and he
also visited different parts of the island, and was reassured by finding
that no important changes appeared to be taking place.
On the 16th August Victoria Island was situated in 167° 27’ west
longitude, and 70° 49’ north latitude. It had, therefore, drifted
slightly to the south, but without getting any nearer to the American
coast, which curved considerably.
The distance traversed by the island since the fracture of the isthmus,
or rather since the last thaw, could not be less than eleven or twelve
hundred miles to the west.
But what was this distance compared to the vast extent of the ocean?
Had not boats been known to be drifted several thousands of miles by
currents? Was not this the case with the English ship Resolute, the
American brig Advance, and with the Fox, all of which were carried along
upon ice-fields until the winter arrested their advance?
CHAPTER VI. TEN DAYS OF TEMPEST From the 17th to the 20th August the
weather continued fine, and the temperature moderate. The mists on the
horizon were not resolved into clouds, and altogether the weather
was exceptionally beautiful for such an elevated position. It will be
readily understood, however, that Hobson could take no pleasure in the
fineness of the climate.
On the 21st August, however, the barometer gave notice of an approaching
change. The column of mercury suddenly fell considerably, the sun was
completely hidden at the moment of culmination, and Hobson was unable to
take his bearings.
The next day the wind changed and blew strongly from the north-west,
torrents of rain falling at intervals. Meanwhile, however, the
temperature did not change to any sensible extent, the thermometer
remaining at 54° Fahrenheit.
Fortunately the proposed works were now all finished, and MacNab had
completed the carcass of his boat, which was planked and ribbed. Hunting
might now be neglected a little, as the stores were complete, which was
fortunate, for the weather became very bad. The wind was high, the
rain incessant, and thick fogs rendered it impossible to go beyond the
enceinte of the fort.
“What do you think of this change in the weather, Lieutenant?”
inquired Mrs Barnett on the morning of the 27th August; “might it not
be in our favour?”
“I should not like to be sure of it, madam,” replied Hobson; “but
anything is better for us than the magnificent weather we have lately
had, during which the sun made the waters warmer and warmer. Then, too,
the wind from the north-west is so very strong that it may perhaps drive
us nearer to the American continent.”
“Unfortunately,” observed Long, “we can’t take our bearings
every day now. It’s impossible to see either sun, moon, or stars in
this fog. Fancy attempting to take an altitude now!”
“We shall see well enough to recognise America, if we get anywhere
near it,” said Mrs Barnett. “Whatever land we approach will be
welcome. It will most likely be some part of Russian America--probably
Western Alaska.”
“You are right, madam,” said Hobson; “for, unfortunately, in the
whole Arctic Ocean there is not an island, an islet, or even a rock to
which we could fasten our vessel!”
“Well,” rejoined Mrs Barnett, “why should not our conveyance take
us straight to the coasts of Asia? Might not the currents carry us past
the opening of Bearing Strait and land us on the shores of Siberia?”
“No, madam, no,” replied Hobson; “our ice-field would soon meet
the Kamtchatka current, and be carried by it to the northwest. It is
more likely, however, that this wind will drive us towards the shores of
Russian America.”
“We must keep watch, then,” said Mrs Barnett, “and ascertain our
position as soon as possible.”
“We shall indeed keep watch,” replied Hobson, “although this fog
is very much against us If we should be driven on to the coast, the
shock will be felt even if we cannot see. Let’s hope the island will
not fall to pieces in this storm! That is at present our principal
danger. Well, when it comes we shall see what there is to be done, and
meanwhile we must wait patiently.”
Of course this conversation was not held in the public room, where the
soldiers and women worked together. It was in her own room, with the
window looking out on the court, that Mrs Barnett received visitors. It
was almost impossible to see indoors even in the daytime, and the wind
could be heard rushing by outside like an avalanche. Fortunately, Cape
Bathurst protected the house from the north-east winds, but the sand and
earth from its summit were hurled down upon the roof with a noise like
the pattering of hail. Mac-Nab began to feel fresh uneasiness about his
chimneys, which it was absolutely necessary to keep in good order. With
the roaring of the wind was mingled that of the sea, as its huge waves
broke upon the beach. The storm had become a hurricane.
In spite of the fury of the gale, Hobson determined on the morning of
the 28th of August to climb to the summit of Cape Bathurst, in order
to examine the state of the horizon, the sea, and the sky. He therefore
wrapped himself up, taking care to have nothing about him likely to give
hold the wind, and set out.
He got to the foot of the cape without much difficulty. The sand and
earth blinded him, it is true, but protected by the cliff he had not
as yet actually faced the wind. The fatigue began when he attempted to
climb the almost perpendicular sides of the promontory; but by clutching
at the tufts of herbs with which they were covered, he managed to get to
the top, but there the fury of the gale was such that he could neither
remain standing nor seated; he was therefore forced to fling himself
upon his face behind the little coppice and cling to some shrubs, only
raising his head and shoulders above the ground.
The appearance of sea and sky was indeed terrible. The spray dashed over
the Lieutenant’s head, and half-a-mile from the cape water and clouds
were confounded together in a thick mist. Low jagged rain-clouds were
chased along the heavens with giddy rapidity, and heavy masses of vapour
were piled upon the zenith. Every now and then an awful stillness fell
upon the land, and the only sounds were the breaking of the surf upon
the beach and the roaring of the angry billows; but then the tempest
recommenced with redoubled fury, and Hobson felt the cape tremble to its
foundations. Sometimes the rain poured down with such violence that it
resembled grape-shot.
It was indeed a terrible hurricane from the very worst quarter of the
heavens. This north-east wind might blow for a long time and cause all
manner of havoc. Yet Hobson, who would generally have grieved over
the destruction around him, did not complain,--on the contrary, he
rejoiced; for if, as he hoped, the island held together, it must be
driven to the south-west by this wind, so much more powerful than the
currents. And the south-west meant land--hope--safety! Yes, for his
own sake, and for that of all with him, he hoped that the hurricane
would last until it had flung them upon the laud, no matter where. That
which would have been fatal to a ship was the best thing that could
happen to the floating island.
For a quarter of an hour Hobson remained crouching upon the ground,
clutching at the shrubs like a drowning man at a spar, lashed by the
wind, drenched by the rain and the spray, struggling to estimate all the
chances of safety the storm might afford him. At the end of that time he
let himself slide down the cape, and fought his way to Fort Hope.
Hobson’s first care was to tell his comrades that the hurricane was
not yet at its height, and that it would probably last a long time yet.
He announced these tidings with the manner of one bringing good news,
and every one looked at him in astonishment. Their chief officer really
seemed to take a delight in the fury of the elements.
On the 30th Hobson again braved the tempest, not this time climbing the
cape, but going down to the beach. What was his joy at noticing some
long weeds floating on the top of the waves, of a kind which did not
grow on Victoria Island. Christopher Columbus’ delight was not greater
when he saw the sea-weed which told him of the proximity of land.
The Lieutenant hurried back to the fort, and told Mrs Barnett and
Sergeant Long of his discovery. He had a good mind to tell every one the
whole truth now, but a strange presentiment kept him silent.
The occupants of the fort had plenty to amuse them in the long days of
compulsory confinement. They went on improving the inside of the various
buildings, and dug trenches in the court to carry away the rain-water.
Mac-Nab, a hammer in one hand and a nail in the other, was always busy
at a job in some corner or another, and nobody took much note of the
tempest outside in the daytime; but at night it was impossible to sleep,
the wind beat upon the buildings like a battering-ram; between the
house and the cape sometimes whirled a huge waterspout of extraordinary
dimensions; the planks cracked, the beams seemed about to separate, and
there was danger of the whole structure tumbling down. Mac-Nab and his
men lived in a state of perpetual dread, and had to be continually on
the watch.
Meanwhile, Hobson was uneasy about the stability of the island itself,
rather than that of the house upon it. The tempest became so violent,
and the sea so rough, that there was really a danger of the dislocation
of the ice-field. It seemed impossible for it to resist much longer,
diminished as it was in thickness and subject to the perpetual action of
the waves. It is true that its inhabitants did not feel any motion, on
account of its vast extent, but it suffered from it none the less. The
point at issue was simply:--Would the island last until it was flung
upon the coast, or would it fall to pieces before it touched firm
ground?
There could be no doubt that thus far it had resisted. As the Lieutenant
explained to Mrs Barnett, had it already been broken, had the ice-field
already divided into a number of islets, the occupants of the fort must
have noticed it, for the different pieces would have been small enough
to be affected by the motion of the sea, and the people on any one of
them would have been pitched about like passengers on a boat. This
was not the case, and in his daily observations Lieutenant Hobson had
noticed no movement whatever, not so much as a trembling of the island,
which appeared as firm and motionless as when it was still connected by
its isthmus with the mainland.
But the breaking up, which had not yet taken place, might happen at any
minute.
Hobson was most anxious to ascertain whether Victoria Island, driven by
the north-west wind out of the current, had approached the continent.
Everything, in fact, depended upon this, which was their last chance
of safety. But without sun, moon, or stars, instruments were of course
useless, as no observations could be taken, and the exact position of
the island could not be determined. If, then, they were approaching
the land, they would only know it when the land came in sight, and
Hobson’s only means of ascertaining anything in time to be of any
service, was to get to the south of his dangerous dominions. The
position of Victoria Island with regard to the cardinal points had not
sensibly altered all the time. Cape Bathurst still pointed to the
north, as it did when it was the advanced post of North America. It was,
therefore, evident that if Victoria Island should come alongside of the
continent, it would touch it with its southern side,--the communication
would, in a word, be re-established by means of the broken isthmus;
it was, therefore, imperative to ascertain what was going on in that
direction.
Hobson determined to go to Cape Michael, however terrible the storm
might be, but he meant to keep the real motive of his reconnaissance a
secret from his companions. Sergeant Long was to accompany him.
About four o’clock P.M., on the 31st August, Hobson sent for the
Sergeant in his own room, that they might arrange together for all
eventualities.
“Sergeant Long,” he began, “it is necessary that we should,
without delay, ascertain the position of Victoria Island, and above
all whether this wind has, as I hope, driven it near to the American
continent.”
“I quite agree with you, sir,” replied Long, “and the sooner we
find out the better”
“But it will necessitate our going down to the south of the island.”
“I am ready, sir.”
“I know, Sergeant, that you are always ready to do your duty, but you
will not go alone. Two of us ought to go, that we may be able to let our
comrades know if any land is in sight; and besides I must see for myself
... we will go together.”
“When you like, Lieutenant, just when you think best.”
“We will start this evening at nine o’clock, when everybody else has
gone to bed”
“Yes, they would all want to come with us,” said Long, “and they
must not know why we go so far from the factory.”
“No, they must not know,” replied Hobson, “and if I can, I will
keep the knowledge of our awful situation from them until the end.”
“It is agreed then, sir?”
“Yes. You will take a tinder-box and some touchwood [Footnote: A
fungus used as tinder (Polyporous igniarius).] with you, so that we
can make a signal if necessary--if land is in sight in the south, for
instance”
“Yes, sir.”
“We shall have a rough journey, Sergeant.”
“What does that matter, sir, but by the way--the lady?”
“I don’t think I shall tell her. She would want to go with us.”
“And she could not,” said the Sergeant, “a woman could not battle
with such a gale. Just see how its fury is increasing at this moment!”
Indeed the house was rocking to such an extent that it seemed likely to
be torn from its foundations.
“No,” said Hobson, “courageous as she is, she could not, she ought
not to accompany us. But on second thought, it will be best to tell her
of our project. She ought to know in case any accident should befall
us”
“Yes,” replied Long, “we ought not to keep anything from her, and
if we do not come back”....
“At nine o’clock then, Sergeant.”
“At nine o’clock.”
And with a military salute Sergeant Long retired.
A few minutes later Hobson was telling Mrs Barnett of his scheme. As
he expected the brave woman insisted on accompanying him, and was quite
ready to face the tempest. Hobson did not dissuade her by dwelling on
the dangers of the expedition, he merely said that her presence was
necessary at the fort during his absence, and that her remaining would
set his mind at ease. If any accident happened to him it would be a
comfort to know that she would take his place.
Mrs Barnett understood and said no more about going; but only urged
Hobson not to risk himself unnecessarily. To remember that he was the
chief officer, that his life was not his own, but necessary to the
safety of all. The Lieutenant promised to be as prudent as possible; but
added that the examination of the south of the island must be made at
once, and he would make it. The next day Mrs Barnett merely told her
companions that the Lieutenant and the Sergeant had gone to make a final
reconnaissance before the winter set in.
CHAPTER VII. A FIRE AND A CRY. The Lieutenant and the Sergeant spent the
evening in the large room of the fort, where all were assembled except
the astronomer, who still remained shut up in his cabin. The men were
busy over their various occupations, some cleaning their arms, others
mending or sharpening their tools. The women were stitching away
industriously, and Mrs Paulina Barnett was reading aloud; but she was
often interrupted not only by the noise of the wind, which shook the
walls of the house like a battering-ram, but by the cries of the baby.
Corporal Joliffe, who had undertaken to amuse him, had enough to do. The
young gentleman had ridden upon his playmate’s knees until they were
worn out, and the Corporal at last put the indefatigable little cavalier
on the large table, where he rolled about to his heart’s content until
he fell asleep.
At eight o’clock prayers were read as usual, the lamps were
extinguished, and all retired to rest.
When every one was asleep, Hobson and Long crept cautiously across the
large room and gained the passage, where they found Mrs Barnett, who
wished to press their hands once more.
“Till to-morrow,” she said to the Lieutenant.
“Yes,” replied Hobson, “to-morrow, madam, without fail.”
“But if you are delayed?”
“You must wait patiently for us,” replied the Lieutenant, “for
if in examining the southern horizon we should see a fire, which is not
unlikely this dark night, we should know that we were near the coasts
of New Georgia, and then it would be desirable for me to ascertain our
position by daylight. In fact, we may be away forty eight hours. If,
however, we can get to Cape Michael before midnight, we shall be back at
the fort to-morrow evening. So wait patiently, madam, and believe that
we shall incur no unnecessary risk.”
“But,” added the lady, “suppose you don’t get back to morrow,
suppose you are away more than two days?”
“Then we shall not return at all,” replied Hobson simply.
The door was opened, Mrs Barnett closed it behind the Lieutenant and
his companion and went back to her own room, where Madge awaited her,
feeling anxious and thoughtful.
Hobson and Long made their way across the inner court through a
whirlwind which nearly knocked them down; but clinging to each other,
and leaning on their iron-bound staffs, they reached the postern gates,
and set out [beween] between the hills and the eastern bank of the
lagoon.
A faint twilight enabled them to see their way. The moon, which was
new the night before, would not appear above the horizon, and there was
nothing to lessen the gloom of the darkness, which would, however, last
but a few hours longer.
The wind and rain were as violent as ever. The Lieutenant and his
companion wore impervious boots and water-proof cloaks well pulled in at
the waist, and the hood completely covering their heads. Thus protected
they got along at a rapid pace, for the wind was behind them, and
sometimes drove them on rather faster than they cared to go. Talking was
quite out of the question, and they did not attempt it, for they were
deafened by the hurricane, and out of breath with the buffeting they
received.
Hobson did not mean to follow the coast, the windings of which would
have taken him a long way round, and have brought him face to face with
the wind, which swept over the sea with nothing to break its fury. His
idea was to cut across in a straight line from Cape Bathurst to Cape
Michael, and he was provided with a pocket compass with which to
ascertain his bearings. He hoped by this means to cross the ten or
eleven miles between him and his goal, just before the twilight faded
and gave place to the two hours of real darkness.
Bent almost double, with rounded shoulders and stooping heads, the two
pressed on. As long as they kept near the lake they did not meet the
gale full face, the little hills crowned with trees afforded them some
protection, the wind howled fearfully as it bent and distorted the
branches, almost tearing the trunks up by the roots; but it partly
exhausted its strength, and even the rain when it reached the explorers
was converted into impalpable mist, so that for about four miles they
did not suffer half as much as they expected to.
But when they reached the southern skirts of the wood, where the hills
disappeared, and there were neither trees nor rising ground, the wind
swept along with awful force, and involuntarily they paused for a
moment. They were still six miles from Cape Michael.
“We are going to have a bad time of it,” shouted Lieutenant Hobson
in the Sergeant’s ear.
“Yes, the wind and rain will conspire to give us a good beating,”
answered Long.
“I am afraid that now and then we shall have hail as well,” added
Hobson.
“It won’t be as deadly as grape-shot,” replied Long coolly, “and
we have both been through that, and so forwards!”
“Forwards, my brave comrade!”
It was then ten o’clock. The twilight was fading away, dying as if
drowned in the mists or quenched by the wind and the rain. There was
still, however, some light, and the Lieutenant struck his flint, and
consulted his compass, passing a piece of burning touchwood over it, and
then, drawing his cloak more closely around him, he plunged after the
Sergeant across the unprotected plain.
At the first step, both were flung violently to the ground, but they
managed to scramble up, and clinging to each other with their backs bent
like two old crippled peasants, they struck into a kind of ambling trot.
There was a kind of awful grandeur in the storm to which neither was
insensible. Jagged masses of mist and ragged rain-clouds swept along
the ground. The loose earth and sand were whirled into the air and flung
down again like grape-shot, and the lips of Hobson and his companion
were wet with salt spray, although the sea was two or three miles
distant at least.
During the rare brief pauses in the gale, they stopped and took breath,
whilst the Lieutenant ascertained their position as accurately as
possible.
The tempest increased as the night advanced, the air and water seemed
to be absolutely confounded together, and low down on the horizon was
formed one of those fearful waterspouts which can overthrow houses, tear
up forests, and which the vessels whose safety they threaten attack with
artillery. It really seemed as if the ocean itself was being torn from
its bed and flung over the devoted little island.
Hobson could not help wondering how it was that the ice-field which
supported it was not broken in a hundred places in this violent
convulsion of the sea, the roaring of which could be distinctly heard
where he stood. Presently Long, who was a few steps in advance, stopped
suddenly, and turning round managed to make the Lieutenant hear the
broken words--
“Not that way!”
“Why not?”
“The sea!”
“What, the sea! We cannot possibly have got to the southeast coast!”
“Look, look, Lieutenant!”
It was true, a vast sheet of water was indistinctly visible before them,
and large waves were rolling up and breaking at the Lieutenant’s feet.
Hobson again had recourse to his flint, and with the aid of some lighted
touchwood consulted the needle of his compass very carefully.
“No,” he said, “the sea is farther to the left, we have not yet
passed the wood between us and Cape Michael.”
“Then it is”--
“It is a fracture of the island!” cried Hobson, as both were
compelled to fling themselves to the ground before the wind, “either
a large portion of our land has been broken off and drifted away, or a
gulf has been made, which we can go round. Forwards!”
They struggled to their feet and turned to the right towards the
centre of the island. For about ten minutes they pressed on in silence,
fearing, not without reason, that all communication with the south of
the island would be found to be cut off. Presently, however, they no
longer heard the noise of the breakers.
“It is only a gulf.” screamed Hobson in the Sergeant’s ear. “Let
us turn round.”
And they resumed their original direction towards the south, but both
knew only too well that they had a fearful danger to face, for that
portion of the island on which they were was evidently cracked for a
long distance, and might at any moment separate entirely; should it do
so under the influence of the waves, they would inevitably be drifted
away, whither they knew not. Yet they did not hesitate, but plunged into
the mist, not even pausing to wonder if they should ever get back.
What anxious forebodings must, however, have pressed upon the heart of
the Lieutenant. Could he now hope that the island would hold together
until the winter? had not the inevitable breaking up already commenced?
If the wind should not drive them on to the coast, were they not doomed
to perish very soon, to be swallowed up by the deep, leaving no trace
behind them? What a fearful prospect for all the unconscious inhabitants
of the fort!
But through it all the two men, upheld by the consciousness of a duty to
perform, bravely struggled on against the gale, which nearly tore them
to pieces, along the new beach, the foam sometimes bathing their feet,
and presently gained the large wood which shut in Cape Michael. This
they would have to cross to get to the coast by the shortest route,
and they entered it in complete darkness, the wind thundering among the
branches over their heads. Everything seemed to be breaking to pieces
around them, the dislocated branches intercepted their passage, and
every moment they ran a risk of being crushed beneath a falling tree, or
they stumbled over a stump they had not been able to see in the gloom.
The noise of the waves on the other side of the wood was a sufficient
guide to their steps, and sometimes the furious breakers shook the
weakened ground beneath their feet. Holding each other’s hands lest
they should lose each other, supporting each other, and the one helping
the other up when he fell over some obstacle, they at last reached the
point for which they were bound.
But the instant they quitted the shelter of the wood a perfect whirlwind
tore them asunder, and flung them upon the ground.
“Sergeant, Sergeant! Where are you?” cried Hobson with all the
strength of his lungs.
“Here, here!” roared Long in reply.
And creeping on the ground they struggled to reach each other; but it
seemed as if a powerful hand rivetted them to the spot on which they had
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