THE ENGLISH AT THE NORTH POLE
PART I
OF
THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN HATTERAS
BY
JULES VERNE
CHAPTER I
THE "FORWARD"
"To-morrow, at low tide, the brig -Forward-, Captain K. Z----, Richard
Shandon mate, will start from New Prince's Docks for an unknown
destination."
The foregoing might have been read in the -Liverpool Herald- of April
5th, 1860. The departure of a brig is an event of little importance
for the most commercial port in England. Who would notice it in the
midst of vessels of all sorts of tonnage and nationality that six
miles of docks can hardly contain? However, from daybreak on the 6th
of April a considerable crowd covered the wharfs of New Prince's
Docks--the innumerable companies of sailors of the town seemed to
have met there. Workmen from the neighbouring wharfs had left their
work, merchants their dark counting-houses, tradesmen their shops.
The different-coloured omnibuses that ran along the exterior wall
of the docks brought cargoes of spectators at every moment; the town
seemed to have but one pre-occupation, and that was to see the
-Forward- go out.
The -Forward- was a vessel of a hundred and seventy tons, charged
with a screw and steam-engine of a hundred and twenty horse-power.
It might easily have been confounded with the other brigs in the port.
But though it offered nothing curious to the eyes of the public,
connoisseurs remarked certain peculiarities in it that a sailor
cannot mistake. On board the -Nautilus-, anchored at a little distance,
a group of sailors were hazarding a thousand conjectures about the
destination of the -Forward-.
"I don't know what to think about its masting," said one; "it isn't
usual for steamboats to have so much sail."
"That ship," said a quartermaster with a big red face--"that ship
will have to depend more on her masts than her engine, and the topsails
are the biggest because the others will be often useless. I haven't
got the slightest doubt that the -Forward- is destined for the Arctic
or Antarctic seas, where the icebergs stop the wind more than is good
for a brave and solid ship."
"You must be right, Mr. Cornhill," said a third sailor. "Have you
noticed her stern, how straight it falls into the sea?"
"Yes," said the quartermaster, "and it is furnished with a steel
cutter as sharp as a razor and capable of cutting a three-decker in
two if the -Forward- were thrown across her at top speed."
"That's certain," said a Mersey pilot; "for that 'ere vessel runs
her fourteen knots an hour with her screw. It was marvellous to see
her cutting the tide when she made her trial trip. I believe you,
she's a quick un."
"The canvas isn't intricate either," answered Mr. Cornhill; "it goes
straight before the wind, and can be managed by hand. That ship is
going to try the Polar seas, or my name isn't what it is. There's
something else--do you see the wide helm-port that the head of her
helm goes through?"
"It's there, sure enough," answered one; "but what does that prove?"
"That proves, my boys," said Mr. Cornhill with disdainful
satisfaction, "that you don't know how to put two and two together
and make it four; it proves that they want to be able to take off
the helm when they like, and you know it's a manoeuvre that's often
necessary when you have ice to deal with."
"That's certain," answered the crew of the -Nautilus-.
"Besides," said one of them, "the way she's loaded confirms Mr.
Cornhill's opinion. Clifton told me. The -Forward- is victualled and
carries coal enough for five or six years. Coals and victuals are
all its cargo, with a stock of woollen garments and sealskins."
"Then," said the quartermaster, "there is no more doubt on the matter;
but you, who know Clifton, didn't he tell you anything about her
destination?"
"He couldn't tell me; he doesn't know; the crew was engaged without
knowing. He'll only know where he's going when he gets there."
"I shouldn't wonder if they were going to the devil," said an
unbeliever: "it looks like it."
"And such pay," said Clifton's friend, getting warm--"five times more
than the ordinary pay. If it hadn't been for that, Richard Shandon
wouldn't have found a soul to go with him. A ship with a queer shape,
going nobody knows where, and looking more like not coming back than
anything else, it wouldn't have suited this child."
"Whether it would have suited you or not," answered Cornhill, "you
couldn't have been one of the crew of the -Forward-."
"And why, pray?"
"Because you don't fulfil the required conditions. I read that all
married men were excluded, and you are in the category, so you needn't
talk. Even the very name of the ship is a bold one. The
-Forward---where is it to be forwarded to? Besides, nobody knows who
the captain is."
"Yes, they do," said a simple-faced young sailor.
"Why, you don't mean to say that you think Shandon is the captain
of the -Forward-?" said Cornhill.
"But----" answered the young sailor--
"Why, Shandon is commander, and nothing else; he's a brave and bold
sailor, an experienced whaler, and a jolly fellow worthy in every
respect to be the captain, but he isn't any more captain than you
or I. As to who is going to command after God on board he doesn't
know any more than we do. When the moment has come the true captain
will appear, no one knows how nor where, for Richard Shandon has not
said and hasn't been allowed to say to what quarter of the globe he
is going to direct his ship."
"But, Mr. Cornhill," continued the young sailor, "I assure you that
there is someone on board who was announced in the letter, and that
Mr. Shandon was offered the place of second to."
"What!" said Cornhill, frowning, "do you mean to maintain that the
-Forward- has a captain on board?"
"Yes, Mr. Cornhill."
"Where did you get your precious information from?"
"From Johnson, the boatswain."
"From Johnson?"
"Yes, sir."
"Johnson told you so?"
"He not only told me so, but he showed me the captain."
"He showed him to you!" said Cornhill, stupefied. "And who is it,
pray?"
"A dog."
"What do you mean by a dog?"
"A dog on four legs."
Stupefaction reigned amongst the crew of the -Nautilus-. Under any
other circumstances they would have burst out laughing. A dog captain
of a vessel of a hundred and seventy tons burden! It was enough to
make them laugh. But really the -Forward- was such an extraordinary
ship that they felt it might be no laughing matter, and they must
be sure before they denied it. Besides, Cornhill himself didn't laugh.
"So Johnson showed you the new sort of captain, did he?" added he,
addressing the young sailor, "and you saw him?"
"Yes, sir, as plainly as I see you now."
"Well, and what do you think about it?" asked the sailors of the
quartermaster.
"I don't think anything," he answered shortly. "I don't think anything,
except that the -Forward- is a ship belonging to the devil, or madmen
fit for nothing but Bedlam."
The sailors continued silently watching the -Forward-, whose
preparations for departure were drawing to an end; there was not one
of them who pretended that Johnson had only been laughing at the young
sailor. The history of the dog had already made the round of the town,
and amongst the crowd of spectators many a one looked out for the
dog-captain and believed him to be a supernatural animal. Besides,
the -Forward- had been attracting public attention for some months
past. Everything about her was marvellous; her peculiar shape, the
mystery which surrounded her, the incognito kept by the captain, the
way Richard Shandon had received the proposition to direct her, the
careful selection of the crew, her unknown destination, suspected
only by a few--all about her was strange.
To a thinker, dreamer, or philosopher nothing is more affecting than
the departure of a ship; his imagination plays round the sails, sees
her struggles with the sea and the wind in the adventurous journey
which does not always end in port; when in addition to the ordinary
incidents of departure there are extraordinary ones, even minds
little given to credulity let their imagination run wild.
So it was with the -Forward-, and though the generality of people
could not make the knowing remarks of Quartermaster Cornhill, it did
not prevent the ship forming the subject of Liverpool gossip for three
long months. The ship had been put in dock at Birkenhead, on the
opposite side of the Mersey. The builders, Scott and Co., amongst
the first in England, had received an estimate and detailed plan from
Richard Shandon; it informed them of the exact tonnage, dimensions,
and store room that the brig was to have. They saw by the details
given that they had to do with a consummate seaman. As Shandon had
considerable funds at his disposal, the work advanced rapidly,
according to the recommendation of the owner. The brig was constructed
of a solidity to withstand all tests; it was evident that she was
destined to resist enormous pressure, for her ribs were built of
teak-wood, a sort of Indian oak, remarkable for its extreme hardness,
and were, besides, plated with iron. Sailors asked why the hull of
a vessel made so evidently for resistance was not built of sheet-iron
like other steamboats, and were told it was because the mysterious
engineer had his own reasons for what he did.
Little by little the brig grew on the stocks, and her qualities of
strength and delicacy struck connoisseurs. As the sailors of the
-Nautilus- had remarked, her stern formed a right angle with her keel;
her steel prow, cast in the workshop of R. Hawthorn, of Newcastle,
shone in the sun and gave a peculiar look to the brig, though otherwise
she had nothing particularly warlike about her. However, a 16-pounder
cannon was installed on the forecastle; it was mounted on a pivot,
so that it might easily be turned in any direction; but neither the
cannon nor the stern, steel-clad as they were, succeeded in looking
warlike.
On the 5th of February, 1860, this strange vessel was launched in
the midst of an immense concourse of spectators, and the trial trip
was perfectly successful. But if the brig was neither a man-of-war,
a merchant vessel, nor a pleasure yacht--for a pleasure trip is not
made with six years' provisions in the hold--what was it? Was it a
vessel destined for another Franklin expedition? It could not be,
because in 1859, the preceding year, Captain McClintock had returned
from the Arctic seas, bringing the certain proof of the loss of the
unfortunate expedition. Was the -Forward- going to attempt the famous
North-West passage? What would be the use? Captain McClure had
discovered it in 1853, and his lieutenant, Creswell, was the first
who had the honour of rounding the American continent from Behring's
Straits to Davis's Straits. Still it was certain to competent judges
that the -Forward- was prepared to face the ice regions. Was it going
to the South Pole, farther than the whaler Weddell or Captain James
Ross? But, if so, what for?
The day after the brig was floated her engine was sent from Hawthorn's
foundry at Newcastle. It was of a hundred and twenty horse-power,
with oscillating cylinders, taking up little room; its power was
considerable for a hundred-and-seventy-ton brig, with so much sail,
too, and of such fleetness. Her trial trips had left no doubt on that
subject, and even the boatswain, Johnson, had thought right to express
his opinion to Clifton's friend--
"When the -Forward- uses her engine and sails at the same time, her
sails will make her go the quickest."
Clifton's friend did not understand him, but he thought anything
possible of a ship commanded by a dog. After the engine was installed
on board, the stowage of provisions began. This was no slight work,
for the vessel was to carry enough for six years. They consisted of
dry and salted meat, smoked fish, biscuit, and flour; mountains of
tea and coffee were thrown down the shafts in perfect avalanches.
Richard Shandon presided over the management of this precious cargo
like a man who knows what he is about; all was stowed away, ticketed,
and numbered in perfect order; a very large provision of the Indian
preparation called pemmican, which contains many nutritive elements
in a small volume, was also embarked. The nature of the provisions
left no doubt about the length of the cruise, and the sight of the
barrels of lime-juice, lime-drops, packets of mustard, grains of
sorrel and -cochlearia-, all antiscorbutic, confirmed the opinion
on the destination of the brig for the ice regions; their influence
is so necessary in Polar navigation. Shandon had doubtless received
particular instructions about this part of the cargo, which, along
with the medicine-chest, he attended to particularly.
Although arms were not numerous on board, the powder-magazine
overflowed. The one cannon could not pretend to use the contents.
That gave people more to think about. There were also gigantic saws
and powerful instruments, such as levers, leaden maces, handsaws,
enormous axes, etc., without counting a considerable quantity of
blasting cylinders, enough to blow up the Liverpool Customs--all that
was strange, not to say fearful, without mentioning rockets, signals,
powder-chests, and beacons of a thousand different sorts. The
numerous spectators on the wharfs of Prince's Docks admired likewise
a long mahogany whaler, a tin -pirogue- covered with gutta-percha,
and a certain quantity of halkett-boats, a sort of indiarubber cloaks
that can be transformed into canoes by blowing in their lining.
Expectation was on the -qui vive-, for the -Forward- was going out
with the tide.
CHAPTER II
AN UNEXPECTED LETTER
The letter received by Richard Shandon, eight months before, ran as
follows:--
"ABERDEEN,
"August 2nd, 1859.
"To Mr. Richard Shandon,
"Liverpool.
"SIR,--I beg to advise you that the sum of sixteen thousand pounds
sterling has been placed in the hands of Messrs. Marcuart and Co.,
bankers, of Liverpool. I join herewith a series of cheques, signed
by me, which will allow you to draw upon the said Messrs. Marcuart
for the above-mentioned sum. You do not know me, but that is of no
consequence. I know you: that is sufficient. I offer you the place
of second on board the brig -Forward- for a voyage that may be long
and perilous. If you agree to my conditions you will receive a salary
of 500 pounds, and all through the voyage it will be augmented
one-tenth at the end of each year. The -Forward- is not yet in
existence. You must have it built so as to be ready for sea at the
beginning of April, 1860, at the latest. Herewith is a detailed plan
and estimate. You will take care that it is scrupulously followed.
The ship is to be built by Messrs. Scott and Co., who will settle
with you. I particularly recommend you the choice of the -Forward's-
crew; it will be composed of a captain, myself, of a second, you,
of a third officer, a boatswain, two engineers, an ice pilot, eight
sailors, and two others, eighteen men in all, comprising Dr. Clawbonny,
of this town, who will introduce himself to you when necessary. The
-Forward's- crew must be composed of Englishmen without incumbrance;
they should be all bachelors and sober--for no spirits, nor even beer,
will be allowed on board--ready to undertake anything, and to bear
with anything. You will give the preference to men of a sanguine
constitution, as they carry a greater amount of animal heat. Offer
them five times the usual pay, with an increase of one-tenth for each
year of service. At the end of the voyage five hundred pounds will
be placed at the disposition of each, and two thousand at yours. These
funds will be placed with Messrs. Marcuart and Co. The voyage will
be long and difficult, but honourable, so you need not hesitate to
accept my conditions. Be good enough to send your answer to K. Z.,
Poste Restante, Goteborg, Sweden.
"P.S.--On the 15th of February next you will receive a large Danish
dog, with hanging lips, and tawny coat with black stripes. You will
take it on board and have it fed with oaten bread, mixed with tallow
grease. You will acknowledge the reception of the said dog to me under
the same initials as above, Poste Restante, Leghorn, Italy.
"The captain of the -Forward- will introduce himself to you when
necessary. When you are ready to start you will receive further
instructions.
"THE CAPTAIN OF THE 'FORWARD,'
"K. Z."
CHAPTER III
DR. CLAWBONNY
Richard Shandon was a good sailor; he had been commander of whalers
in the Arctic seas for many years, and had a wide reputation for skill.
He might well be astonished at such a letter, and so he was, but
astonished like a man used to astonishments. He fulfilled, too, all
the required conditions: he had no wife, children, or relations; he
was as free as a man could be. Having no one to consult, he went straight
to Messrs. Marcuart's bank.
"If the money is there," he said to himself, "I'll undertake the rest."
He was received by the firm with all the attention due to a man with
sixteen thousand pounds in their safes. Sure of that fact, Shandon
asked for a sheet of letter-paper, and sent his acceptance in a large
sailor's hand to the address indicated. The same day he put himself
in communication with the Birkenhead shipbuilders, and twenty-four
hours later the keel of the -Forward- lay on the stocks in the
dockyard.
Richard Shandon was a bachelor of forty, robust, energetic, and brave,
three sailor-like qualities, giving their possessor confidence,
vigour, and -sang-froid-. He was reputed jealous and hard to be
pleased, so he was more feared than loved by his sailors. But this
reputation did not increase the difficulty of finding a crew, for
he was known to be a clever commander. He was afraid that the mystery
of the enterprise would embarrass his movements, and he said to
himself, "The best thing I can do is to say nothing at all; there
are sea-dogs who will want to know the why and the wherefore of the
business, and as I know nothing myself, I can't tell them. K. Z. is
a queer fish, but after all he knows me, and has confidence in me;
that's enough. As to the ship, she will be a handsome lass, and my
name isn't Richard Shandon if she is not destined for the Frozen Seas.
But I shall keep that to myself and my officers."
Upon which Richard Shandon set about recruiting his crew upon the
conditions of family and health exacted by the captain. He knew a
brave fellow and capital sailor, named James Wall. Wall was about
thirty, and had made more than one trip to the North Seas. Shandon
offered him the post of third officer, and he accepted blindly; all
he cared for was to sail, as he was devoted to his profession. Shandon
told him and Johnson (whom he engaged as boatswain) all he knew about
the business.
"Just as soon go there as anywhere else," answered Wall. "If it's
to seek the North-West passage, many have been and come back."
"Been, yes; but come back I don't answer for," said Johnson; "but
that's no reason for not going."
"Besides, if we are not mistaken in our conjectures," said Shandon,
"the voyage will be undertaken under good conditions. The -Forward's-
a bonny lass, with a good engine, and will stand wear and tear.
Eighteen men are all the crew we want."
"Eighteen men?" said Johnson. "That's just the number that the
American, Kane, had on board when he made his famous voyage towards
the North Pole."
"It's a singular fact that there's always some private individual
trying to cross the sea from Davis's Straits to Behring's Straits.
The Franklin expeditions have already cost England more than seven
hundred and sixty thousand pounds without producing any practical
result. Who the devil means to risk his fortune in such an enterprise?"
"We are reasoning now on a simple hypothesis," said Shandon. "I don't
know if we are really going to the Northern or Southern Seas. Perhaps
we are going on a voyage of discovery. We shall know more when Dr.
Clawbonny comes; I daresay he will tell us all about it."
"There's nothing for it but to wait," answered Johnson; "I'll go and
hunt up some solid subjects, captain; and as to their animal heat,
I guarantee beforehand you can trust me for that."
Johnson was a valuable acquisition; he understood the navigation of
these high latitudes. He was quartermaster on board the -Phoenix-,
one of the vessels of the Franklin expedition of 1853. He was witness
of the death of the French lieutenant Bellot, whom he had accompanied
in his expedition across the ice. Johnson knew the maritime population
of Liverpool, and started at once on his recruiting expedition.
Shandon, Wall, and he did their work so well that the crew was complete
in the beginning of December. It had been a difficult task; many,
tempted by the high pay, felt frightened at the risk, and more than
one enlisted boldly who came afterwards to take back his word and
enlistment money, dissuaded by his friends from undertaking such an
enterprise. All of them tried to pierce the mystery, and worried
Shandon with questions; he sent them to Johnson.
"I can't tell you what I don't know," he answered invariably; "you'll
be in good company, that's all I can tell you. You can take it or
leave it alone."
And the greater number took it.
"I have only to choose," added the boatswain; "such salary has never
been heard of in the memory of sailors, and then the certainty of
finding a handsome capital when we come back. Only think: it's
tempting enough."
"The fact is," answered the sailor, "it is tempting; enough to live
on till the end of one's days."
"I don't hide from you," continued Johnson, "that the cruise will
be long, painful, and perilous; that is formally stated in our
instructions, and you ought to know what you undertake; you will very
likely be required to attempt all that it is possible for human beings
to do, and perhaps more. If you are the least bit frightened, if you
don't think you may just as well finish yonder as here, you'd better
not enlist, but give way to a bolder man."
"But, Mr. Johnson," continued the sailor, for the want of something
better to say, "at least you know the captain?"
"The captain is Richard Shandon till another comes."
Richard Shandon, in his secret heart, hoped that the command would
remain with him, and that at the last moment he should receive precise
instructions as to the destination of the -Forward-. He did all he
could to spread the report in his conversations with his officers,
or when following the construction of the brig as it grew in the
Birkenhead dockyard, looking like the ribs of a whale turned upside
down. Shandon and Johnson kept strictly to their instructions
touching the health of the sailors who were to form the crew; they
all looked hale and hearty, and had enough heat in their bodies to
suffice for the engine of the -Forward-; their supple limbs, their
clear and florid complexions were fit to react against the action
of intense cold. They were confident and resolute men, energetically
and solidly constituted. Of course they were not all equally vigorous;
Shandon had even hesitated about taking some of them, such as the
sailors Gripper and Garry, and the harpooner Simpson, because they
looked rather thin; but, on the whole, their build was good; they
were a warm-hearted lot, and their engagement was signed.
All the crew belonged to the same sect of the Protestant religion;
during these long campaigns prayer in common and the reading of the
Bible have a good influence over the men and sustain them in the hour
of discouragement; it was therefore important that they should be
all of the same way of thinking. Shandon knew by experience the utility
of these practices, and their influence on the mind of the crew; they
are always employed on board ships that are intended to winter in
the Polar Seas. The crew once got together, Shandon and his two
officers set about the provisions; they strictly followed the
instructions of the captain; these instructions were clear, precise,
and detailed, and the least articles were put down with their quality
and quantity. Thanks to the cheques at the commander's disposition,
every article was paid for at once with a discount of 8 per cent,
which Richard carefully placed to the credit of K. Z.
Crew, provisions, and cargo were ready by January, 1860; the -Forward-
began to look shipshape, and Shandon went daily to Birkenhead. On
the morning of the 23rd of January he was, as usual, on board one
of the Mersey ferry-boats with a helm at either end to prevent having
to turn it; there was a thick fog, and the sailors of the river were
obliged to direct their course by means of the compass, though the
passage lasts scarcely ten minutes. But the thickness of the fog did
not prevent Shandon seeing a man of short stature, rather fat, with
an intelligent and merry face and an amiable look, who came up to
him, took him by the two hands, and shook them with an ardour, a
petulance, and a familiarity "quite meridional," as a Frenchman would
have said. But if this person did not come from the South, he had
got his temperament there; he talked and gesticulated with
volubility; his thought must come out or the machine would burst.
His eyes, small as those of witty men generally are, his mouth, large
and mobile, were safety-pipes which allowed him to give passage to
his overflowing thoughts; he talked, and talked, and talked so much
and so fast that Shandon couldn't understand a word he said. However,
this did not prevent the -Forward's- mate from recognising the little
man he had never seen before; a lightning flash traversed his mind,
and when the other paused to take breath, Shandon made haste to get
out the words, "Doctor Clawbonny!"
"Himself in person, commander! I've been at least half a quarter of
an hour looking for you, asking everybody everywhere! Just think how
impatient I got; five minutes more and I should have lost my head!
And so you are the commander Richard? You really exist? You are not
a myth? Your hand, your hand! I want to shake it again. It is Richard
Shandon's hand, and if there is a commander Shandon, there's a brig
-Forward- to command; and if he commands he will start, and if he
starts he'll take Dr. Clawbonny on board."
"Well, yes, doctor, I am Richard Shandon; there is a brig -Forward-,
and it will start."
"That's logic," answered the doctor, after taking in a large provision
of breathing air--"that's logic. And I am ready to jump for joy at
having my dearest wishes gratified. I've wanted to undertake such
a voyage. Now with you, commander----"
"I don't----" began Shandon.
"With you," continued Clawbonny, without hearing him, "we are sure
to go far and not to draw back for a trifle."
"But----" began Shandon again.
"For you have shown what you are made of, commander; I know your deeds
of service. You are a fine sailor!"
"If you will allow me----"
"No, I won't have your bravery, audacity, and skill put an instant
in doubt, even by you! The captain who chose you for his mate is a
man who knows what he's about, I can tell you."
"But that's nothing to do with it," said Shandon, impatient.
"What is it, then? Don't keep me in suspense another minute."
"You don't give me time to speak. Tell me, if you please, doctor,
how it comes that you are to take part in the expedition of the
-Forward-."
"Read this letter, this worthy letter, the letter of a brave
captain--very laconic, but quite sufficient."
Saying which the doctor held out the following letter to Shandon:--
"INVERNESS,
"Jan. 22nd, 1860.
"To Dr. Clawbonny.
"If Dr. Clawbonny wishes to embark on board the -Forward- for a long
cruise, he may introduce himself to the commander, Richard Shandon,
who has received orders concerning him.
"THE CAPTAIN OF THE 'FORWARD,'
"K. Z."
"This letter reached me this morning, and here I am, ready to embark."
"But, doctor, do you know where we are going to?"
"I haven't the slightest idea, and I do not care so that it is somewhere.
They pretend that I am learned; they are mistaken, commander. I know
nothing, and if I have published a few books that don't sell badly,
I ought not to have done it; the public is silly for buying them.
I know nothing, I tell you. I am only an ignorant man. When I have
the offer of completing, or rather of going over again, my knowledge
of medicine, surgery, history, geography, botany, mineralogy,
conchology, geodesy, chemistry, natural philosophy, mechanics, and
hydrography, why I accept, of course."
"Then," said Shandon, disappointed, "you do not know where the
-Forward- is bound for?"
"Yes, I do; it is bound for where there is something to learn, to
discover, and to compare--where we shall meet with other customs,
other countries, other nations, to study in the exercise of their
functions; it is going, in short, where I have never been."
"But I want to know something more definite than that," cried Shandon.
"Well, I have heard that we are bound for the Northern Seas."
"At least," asked Shandon, "you know the captain?"
"Not the least bit in the world! But he is an honest fellow, you may
believe me."
The commander and the doctor disembarked at Birkenhead; the former
told the doctor all he knew about the situation of things, and the
mystery inflamed the imagination of the doctor. The sight of the brig
caused him transports of joy. From that day he stopped with Shandon,
and went every day to pay a visit to the shell of the -Forward-. Besides,
he was specially appointed to overlook the installation of the ship's
medicine-chest. For Dr. Clawbonny was a doctor, and a good one, though
practising little. At the age of twenty-five he was an ordinary
practitioner; at the age of forty he was a -savant-, well known in
the town; he was an influential member of all the literary and
scientific institutions of Liverpool. His fortune allowed him to
distribute counsels which were none the worse for being gratuitous;
beloved as a man eminently lovable must always be, he had never wronged
any one, not even himself; lively and talkative, he carried his heart
in his hand, and put his hand into that of everybody. When it was
known in Liverpool that he was going to embark on board the -Forward-
his friends did all they could to dissuade him, and only fixed him
more completely in his determination, and when the doctor was
determined to do anything no one could prevent him. From that time
the suppositions and apprehensions increased, but did not prevent
the -Forward- being launched on the 5th of February, 1860. Two months
later she was ready to put to sea. On the 15th of March, as the letter
of the captain had announced, a dog of Danish breed was sent by railway
from Edinburgh to Liverpool, addressed to Richard Shandon. The animal
seemed surly, peevish, and even sinister, with quite a singular look
in his eyes. The name of the -Forward- was engraved on his brass collar.
The commander installed it on board the same day, and acknowledged
its reception to K. Z. at Leghorn. Thus, with the exception of the
captain, the crew was complete. It was composed as follows:--
1. K. Z., captain; 2. Richard Shandon, commander; 3. James Wall, third
officer; 4. Dr. Clawbonny; 5. Johnson, boatswain; 6. Simpson,
harpooner; 7. Bell, carpenter; 8. Brunton, chief engineer; 9. Plover,
second engineer; 10. Strong (negro), cook; 11. Foker, ice-master;
12. Wolsten, smith; 13. Bolton, sailor; 14. Garry, sailor; 15. Clifton,
sailor; 16. Gripper, sailor; 17. Pen, sailor; 18. Warren, stoker.
CHAPTER IV
DOG-CAPTAIN
The day of departure arrived with the 5th of April. The admission
of the doctor on board had given the crew more confidence. They knew
that where the worthy doctor went they could follow. However, the
sailors were still uneasy, and Shandon, fearing that some of them
would desert, wished to be off. With the coast out of sight, they
would make up their mind to the inevitable.
Dr. Clawbonny's cabin was situated at the end of the poop, and occupied
all the stern of the vessel. The captain's and mate's cabins gave
upon deck. The captain's remained hermetically closed, after being
furnished with different instruments, furniture, travelling
garments, books, clothes for changing, and utensils, indicated in
a detailed list. According to the wish of the captain, the key of
the cabin was sent to Lubeck; he alone could enter his room.
This detail vexed Shandon, and took away all chance of the chief
command. As to his own cabin, he had perfectly appropriated it to
the needs of the presumed voyage, for he thoroughly understood the
needs of a Polar expedition. The room of the third officer was placed
under the lower deck, which formed a vast sleeping-room for the
sailors' use; the men were very comfortably lodged, and would not
have found anything like the same convenience on board any other ship;
they were cared for like the most priceless cargo: a vast stove
occupied all the centre of the common room. Dr. Clawbonny was in his
element; he had taken possession of his cabin on the 6th of February,
the day after the -Forward- was launched.
"The happiest of animals," he used to say, "is a snail, for it can
make a shell exactly to fit it; I shall try to be an intelligent snail."
And considering that the shell was to be his lodging for a considerable
time, the cabin began to look like home; the doctor had a -savant's-
or a child's pleasure in arranging his scientific traps. His books,
his herbals, his set of pigeon-holes, his instruments of precision,
his chemical apparatus, his collection of thermometers, barometers,
hygrometers, rain-gauges, spectacles, compasses, sextants, maps,
plans, flasks, powders, bottles for medicine-chest, were all classed
in an order that would have shamed the British Museum. The space of
six square feet contained incalculable riches: the doctor had only
to stretch out his hand without moving to become instantaneously a
doctor, a mathematician, an astronomer, a geographer, a botanist,
or a conchologist. It must be acknowledged that he was proud of his
management and happy in his floating sanctuary, which three of his
thinnest friends would have sufficed to fill. His friends came to
it in such numbers that even a man as easy-going as the doctor might
have said with Socrates, "My house is small, but may it please Heaven
never to fill it with friends!"
To complete the description of the -Forward- it is sufficient to say
that the kennel of the large Danish dog was constructed under the
window of the mysterious cabin but its savage inhabitant preferred
wandering between decks and in the hold; it seemed impossible to tame
him, and no one had been able to become his master; during the night
he howled lamentably, making the hollows of the ship ring in a sinister
fashion. Was it regret for his absent master? Was it the instinct
of knowing that he was starting for a perilous voyage? Was it a
presentiment of dangers to come? The sailors decided that it was for
the latter reason, and more than one pretended to joke who believed
seriously that the dog was of a diabolical kind. Pen, who was a brutal
man, was going to strike him once, when he fell, unfortunately,
against the angle of the capstan, and made a frightful wound in his
head. Of course this accident was placed to the account of the
fantastic animal. Clifton, the most superstitious of the crew, made
the singular observation that when the dog was on the poop he always
walked on the windward side, and afterwards, when the brig was out
at sea, and altered its tack, the surprising animal changed its
direction with the wind the same as the captain of the -Forward- would
have done in his place. Dr. Clawbonny, whose kindness and caresses
would have tamed a tiger, tried in vain to win the good graces of
the dog; he lost his time and his pains. The animal did not answer
to any name ever written in the dog calendar, and the crew ended by
calling him Captain, for he appeared perfectly conversant with ship
customs; it was evident that it was not his first trip. From such
facts it is easy to understand the boatswain's answer to Clifton's
friend, and the credulity of those who heard it; more than one repeated
jokingly that he expected one day to see the dog take human shape
and command the manoeuvres with a resounding voice.
If Richard Shandon did not feel the same apprehensions he was not
without anxiety, and the day before the departure, in the evening
of April 5th, he had a conversation on the subject with the doctor,
Wall, and Johnson in the poop cabin. These four persons were tasting
their tenth grog, and probably their last, for the letter from
Aberdeen had ordered that all the crew, from the captain to the stoker,
should be teetotallers, and that there should be no wine, beer, nor
spirits on board except those given by the doctor's orders. The
conversation had been going on about the departure for the last hour.
If the instructions of the captain were realised to the end, Shandon
would receive his last instructions the next day.
"If the letter," said the commander, "does not tell me the captain's
name, it must at least tell me the destination of the brig, or I shall
not know where to take her to."
"If I were you," said the impatient doctor, "I should start whether
I get a letter or no; they'll know how to send after you, you may
depend."
"You are ready for anything, doctor; but if so, to what quarter of
the globe should you set sail?"
"To the North Pole, of course; there's not the slightest doubt about
that."
"Why should it not be the South Pole?" asked Wall.
"The South Pole is out of the question. No one with any sense would
send a brig across the whole of the Atlantic. Just reflect a minute,
and you'll see the impossibility."
"The doctor has an answer to everything," said Wall.
"Well, we'll say north," continued Shandon. "But where north? To
Spitzbergen or Greenland? Labrador or Hudson's Bay? Although all
directions end in insuperable icebergs, I am not less puzzled as to
which to take. Have you an answer to that, doctor?"
"No," he answered, vexed at having nothing to say; "but if you don't
get a letter what shall you do?"
"I shall do nothing; I shall wait."
"Do you mean to say you won't start?" cried Dr. Clawbonny, agitating
his glass in despair.
"Certainly I do."
"And that would be the wisest plan," said Johnson tranquilly, while
the doctor began marching round the table, for he could not keep still;
"but still, if we wait too long, the consequences may be deplorable;
the season is good now if we are really going north, as we ought to
profit by the breaking up of the ice to cross Davis's Straits; besides,
the crew gets more and more uneasy; the friends and companions of
our men do all they can to persuade them to leave the -Forward-, and
their influence may be pernicious for us."
"Besides," added Wall, "if one of them deserted they all would, and
then I don't know how you would get another crew together."
"But what can I do?" cried Shandon.
"What you said you would do," replied the doctor; "wait and wait till
to-morrow before you despair. The captain's promises have all been
fulfilled up to now with the greatest regularity, and there's no
reason to believe we shan't be made acquainted with our destination
when the proper time comes. I haven't the slightest doubt that
to-morrow we shall be sailing in the Irish Channel, and I propose
we drink a last grog to our pleasant voyage. It begins in an
unaccountable fashion, but with sailors like you there are a thousand
chances that it will end well."
And all four drank to their safe return.
"Now, commander," continued Johnson, "if you will allow me to advise
you, you will prepare everything to start; the crew must think that
you know what you are about. If you don't get a letter to-morrow,
set sail; do not get up the steam, the wind looks like holding out,
and it will be easy enough to sail; let the pilot come on board; go
out of the docks with the tide, and anchor below Birkenhead; our men
won't be able to communicate with land, and if the devil of a letter
comes it will find us as easily there as elsewhere."
"By heavens! you are right, Johnson!" cried the doctor, holding out
his hand to the old sailor.
"So be it," answered Shandon.
Then each one entered his cabin, and waited in feverish sleep for
the rising of the sun. The next day the first distribution of letters
took place in the town, and not one bore the address of the commander,
Richard Shandon. Nevertheless, he made his preparations for
departure, and the news spread at once all over Liverpool, and, as
we have already seen, an extraordinary affluence of spectators
crowded the wharfs of New Prince's Docks. Many of them came on board
to shake hands for the last time with a comrade, or to try and dissuade
a friend, or to take a look at the brig, and to know its destination;
they were disappointed at finding the commander more taciturn and
reserved than ever. He had his reasons for that.
Ten o'clock struck. Eleven followed. The tide began to go out that
day at about one o'clock in the afternoon. Shandon from the top of
the poop was looking at the crowd with uneasy eyes, trying to read
the secret of his destiny on one of the faces. But in vain. The sailors
of the -Forward- executed his orders in silence, looking at him all
the time, waiting for orders which did not come. Johnson went on
preparing for departure. The weather was cloudy and the sea rough;
a south-easter blew with violence, but it was easy to get out of the
Mersey.
At twelve o'clock nothing had yet been received. Dr. Clawbonny marched
up and down in agitation, looking through his telescope,
gesticulating, impatient for the sea, as he said. He felt moved,
though he struggled against it. Shandon bit his lips till the blood
came. Johnson came up to him and said--
"Commander, if we want to profit by the tide, there is no time to
be lost; we shall not be clear of the docks for at least an hour."
Shandon looked round him once more and consulted his watch. The twelve
o'clock letters had been distributed. In despair he told Johnson to
start. The boatswain ordered the deck to be cleared of spectators,
and the crowd made a general movement to regain the wharves while
the last moorings were unloosed. Amidst the confusion a dog's bark
was distinctly heard, and all at once the animal broke through the
compact mass, jumped on to the poop, and, as a thousand spectators
can testify, dropped a letter at Shandon's feet.
"A letter!" cried Shandon. "-He- is on board, then?"
"He was, that's certain, but he isn't now," said Johnson, pointing
to the deserted deck.
Shandon held the letter without opening it in his astonishment.
"But read it, read it, I say," said the doctor.
Shandon looked at it. The envelope had no postmark or date; it was
addressed simply to:
"RICHARD SHANDON,
"Commander on board the brig
"-Forward-."
Shandon opened the letter and read as follows:--
"Sail for Cape Farewell. You will reach it by the 20th of April. If
the captain does not appear on board, cross Davis's Straits, and sail
up Baffin's Sea to Melville Bay.
"THE CAPTAIN OF THE 'FORWARD,'
"K. Z."
Shandon carefully folded this laconic epistle, put it in his pocket,
and gave the order for departure. His voice, which rang above the
east wind, had something solemn in it.
Soon the -Forward- had passed the docks, and directed by a Liverpool
pilot whose little cutter followed, went down the Mersey with the
current. The crowd precipitated itself on to the exterior wharf along
the Victoria Docks in order to get a last glimpse of the strange brig.
The two topsails, the foresail and the brigantine sail were rapidly
set up, and the -Forward-, worthy of its name, after having rounded
Birkenhead Point, sailed with extraordinary fleetness into the Irish
Sea.
CHAPTER V
OUT AT SEA
The wind was favourable, though it blew in April gales. The -Forward-
cut through the waves, and towards three o'clock crossed the mail
steamer between Liverpool and the Isle of Man. The captain hailed
from his deck the last adieu that the -Forward- was destined to hear.
At five o'clock the pilot left the command in the hands of Richard
Shandon, the commander of the brig, and regained his cutter, which,
turning round, soon disappeared on the south-west. Towards evening
the brig doubled the Calf of Man at the southern extremity of the
island. During the night the sea was very rough, but the -Forward-
behaved well, left the point of Ayr to the north-west, and directed
its course for the Northern Channel. Johnson was right; once out at
sea the maritime instinct of the sailors gained the upper hand. Life
on board went on with regularity.
The doctor breathed in the sea air with delight; he walked about
vigorously in the squalls, and for a -savant- he was not a bad sailor.
"The sea is splendid," said he to Johnson, coming up on deck after
breakfast. "I have made its acquaintance rather late, but I shall
make up for lost time."
"You are right, Mr. Clawbonny. I would give all the continents of
the world for a corner of the ocean. They pretend that sailors soon
get tired of their profession, but I've been forty years on the sea
and I love it as much as the first day."
"It is a great pleasure to feel a good ship under one's feet, and
if I'm not a bad judge the -Forward- behaves herself well."
"You judge rightly, doctor," answered Shandon, who had joined the
talkers; "she is a good ship, and I acknowledge that a vessel destined
for navigation amongst ice has never been better equipped. That
reminds me that thirty years ago Captain James Ross, sailing for the
North-West passage----"
"In the -Victory-," added the doctor quickly, "a brig about the same
tonnage as ours, with a steam-engine too."
"What! you know about that?"
"Judge if I do," answered the doctor. "Machines were then in their
infancy, and the -Victory's- kept her back; the captain, James Ross,
after having vainly repaired it bit by bit, finished by taking it
down, and abandoned it at his first winter quarters."
"The devil!" said Shandon. "You know all about it, I see."
"Yes. I've read the works of Parry, Ross, and Franklin, and the reports
of McClure, Kennedy, Kane, and McClintock, and I remember something
of what I've read. I can tell you, too, that this same McClintock,
on board the -Fox-, a screw brig in the style of ours, went easier
to his destination than any of the men who preceded him."
"That's perfectly true," answered Shandon; "he was a bold sailor was
McClintock; I saw him at work. You may add that, like him, we shall
find ourselves in Davis's Straits in April, and if we succeed in
passing the ice our voyage will be considerably advanced."
"Unless," added the doctor, "it happens to us like it did to the -Fox-
in 1857, to be caught the very first year by the ice in Baffin's Sea,
and have to winter in the midst of the icebergs."
"We must hope for better luck," answered Johnson. "If a ship like
the -Forward- can't take us where we want to go, we must renounce
all hope for ever."
"Besides," said the doctor, "if the captain is on board he will know
better than we do what must be done. We know nothing as yet; his letter
says nothing about what our voyage is for."
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