"Well," remarked Clifton, "we shall light them ourselves."
"If any officer," said Pen, "is anxious to spend the winter here, he
can; we can leave him here contentedly; he'll find it easy to build a
hut like the Esquimaux."
"Not at all, Pen," retorted Brunton, quickly; "we sha'n't abandon any
one here; do you understand that, all of you? I think it won't be hard
to persuade the commander; he seems to me to be very much discouraged,
and if we propose it to him gently--"
"But," interrupted Plover, "Richard Shandon is often very obstinate;
we shall have to sound him cautiously."
"When I think," said Bolton, with a sigh of longing, "that in a month
we might be back in Liverpool! We can easily pass the line of ice at
the south! Davis Strait will be open by the beginning of June, and
then we shall have nothing but the free Atlantic before us."
"Besides," said the cautious Clifton, "if we take the commander back
with us, and act under his commands, we shall have earned our pay; but
if we go back without him, it's not so sure."
"True," said Plover; "Clifton talks sense. Let's try not to get into
any trouble with the Admiralty, that's safer, and don't let us leave
any one behind."
"But if they refuse to come with us?" continued Pen, who wished to
compel his companions to stand by him.
They found it hard to answer the question thus squarely put them.
"We shall see about that when the time comes," replied Bolton; "it
will be enough to bring Richard Shandon over to our side, and I fancy
that won't be hard."
"There's one I shall leave here," exclaimed Pen with fierce oaths,
"even if he should bite my arm off."
"O, the dog!" said Plover.
"Yes, that dog! I shall soon settle accounts with him."
"So much the better," retorted Clifton, returning to his favorite
theory; "he is the cause of all our troubles."
"He has thrown an evil spell upon us," said Plover.
"He led us into the ice," remarked Gripper.
"He brought more ice in our way," said Wolston, "than was ever seen at
this season."
"He made my eyes sore," said Brunton.
"He shut off the gin and brandy," cried Pen.
"He's the cause of everything," they all exclaimed excitedly.
"And then," added Clifton, "he's the captain."
"Well, you unlucky Captain," cried Pen, whose unreasonable fury grew
with the sound of his own words, "you wanted to come here, and here
you shall stay!"
"But how shall we get hold of him?" said Plover.
"Well, now is a good time," answered Clifton. "The commander is away;
the second mate is asleep in his cabin; the fog is so thick that
Johnson can't see us--"
"But the dog?" said Pen.
"He's asleep in the coal," answered Clifton, "and if any one wants--"
"I'll see to it," replied Pen, angrily.
"Take care, Pen; his teeth would go through a bar of iron."
"If he stirs, I'll rip him open," answered Pen, drawing his knife.
And he ran down between decks, followed by Warren, who was anxious to
help him.
Soon they both returned, carrying the dog in their arms; his mouth and
paws were securely tied; they had caught him asleep, and the poor dog
could not escape them.
"Hurrah for Pen!" cried Plover.
"And what are you going to do with him now?" asked Clifton.
"Drown him, and if he ever comes back--" answered Pen with a smile of
satisfaction.
Two hundred feet from the vessel there was a hole in the ice, a sort
of circular crevasse, made by the seals with their teeth, and always
dug out from the inside to the outside; it was there that the seals
used to come to breathe on the surface of the ice; but they were
compelled to take care to prevent the aperture from closing, for the
shape of their jaws did not permit them to make the hole from the
outside, and in any danger they would not be able to escape from their
enemies.
Pen and Warren hastened to this crevasse, and then, in spite of his
obstinate struggles, the dog was pitilessly cast into the sea; a huge
cake of ice they then rolled over the aperture, closing all means of
escape for the poor dog, thus locked in a watery prison.
[Illustration]
"A pleasant journey, Captain!" cried the brutal sailor.
Soon they returned on board; Johnson had seen nothing of it all; the
fog was growing thick about the ship, and the snow was beginning to
fall with violence.
An hour later, Richard Shandon, the doctor, and Garry regained the
-Forward-.
Shandon had observed in the northeast a passage, which he determined
to try. He gave his orders to that effect; the crew obeyed with a
certain activity; they wanted to convince Shandon of the impossibility
of a farther advance, and besides, they had before them three days of
obedience.
During a part of the following night and day the sawing and towing
went on busily; the -Forward- made about two miles of progress. On the
18th they were in sight of land, five or six cable-lengths from a
strange peak, to which its singular shape had given the name of the
Devil's Thumb.
[Illustration]
At this very place the -Prince Albert-, in 1851, the -Advance-, with
Kane, in 1853, had been caught in the ice for many weeks.
The odd shape of the Devil's Thumb, the barren and desolate
surroundings, which consisted of huge icebergs often more than three
hundred feet high, the cracking of the ice, repeated indefinitely by
the echo, made the position of the -Forward- a very gloomy one.
Shandon saw that it was necessary to get away from there; within
twenty-four hours, he calculated he would be able to get two miles
from the spot. But that was not enough. Shandon felt himself
embarrassed by fear, and the false position in which he was placed
benumbed his energy; to obey his instructions in order to advance, he
had brought his ship into a dangerous position; the towing wore out
his men; more than three hours were necessary to cut a canal twenty
feet in length through ice which was generally four or five feet
thick; the health of the crew gave signs of failing. Shandon was
astonished at the silence of the men, and their unaccustomed
obedience; but he feared it was only the calm that foreboded a storm.
We can, then, easily judge of the painful surprise, disappointment,
and even despair which seized upon him, when he noticed that by means
of an imperceptible movement in the ice, the -Forward- lost in the
night of the 18th all that had been gained by such toilsome efforts;
on Saturday morning he was opposite the Devil's Thumb, in a still more
critical position; the icebergs increased in number and passed by in
the mist like phantoms.
Shandon was thoroughly demoralized; it must be said that fear seized
both this bold man and all his crew. Shandon had heard of the
disappearance of the dog; but he did not dare to punish the guilty
persons; he feared exciting a mutiny.
The weather during that day was horrible; the snow, caught up in dense
whirls, covered the brig with an impenetrable veil; at times, under
the influence of the hurricane, the fog would rise, and their
terror-stricken eyes beheld the Devil's Thumb rising on the shore like
a spectre.
The -Forward- was anchored to a large piece of ice; there was nothing
to be done, nothing to be tried; darkness was spreading about them,
and the man at the helm could not see James Wall, who was on watch
forward.
Shandon withdrew to his cabin, a prey to perpetual disquiet; the
doctor was arranging his notes of the expedition; some of the crew
were on the deck, others in the common room.
At a moment when the violence of the storm was redoubling, the Devil's
Thumb seemed to rise immoderately from the mist.
"Great God!" exclaimed Simpson, recoiling with terror.
"What's the matter?" asked Foker.
Soon shouts were heard on all sides.
"It's going to crush us!"
"We are lost!"
"Mr. Wall, Mr. Wall!"
"It's all over!"
"Commander, Commander!"
All these cries were uttered by the men on watch.
Wall hastened to the after-deck; Shandon, followed by the doctor, flew
to the deck and looked out.
Through a rift in the mist, the Devil's Thumb appeared to have
suddenly come near the brig; it seemed to have grown enormously in
size; on its summit was balanced a second cone, upside down, and
revolving on its point; it threatened to crush the ship with its
enormous mass; it wavered, ready to fall down. It was an alarming
sight. Every one drew back instinctively, and many of the men, jumping
upon the ice, abandoned the ship.
[Illustration]
"Let no one move!" cried the commander with a loud voice; "every one
to his place!"
"My friends, don't be frightened," said the doctor, "there is no
danger! See, Commander, see, Mr. Wall, that's the mirage and nothing
else."
"You are right, Dr. Clawbonny," replied Johnson; "they've all been
frightened by a shadow."
When they had heard what the doctor said, most of the sailors drew
near him, and from terror they turned to admiration of this wonderful
phenomenon, which soon passed from their view.
"They call that a mirage," said Clifton; "the Devil's at the bottom of
it, I'm sure."
"That's true," growled Gripper.
But the break in the fog had given the commander a glimpse of a broad
passage which he had not expected to find; it promised to lead him
away from the shore; he resolved to make use of it at once; men were
sent out on each side of the canal; hawsers were given them, and they
began to tow the ship northward.
During long hours this work was prosecuted busily but silently;
Shandon had the furnace-fires lighted to help him through this passage
so providentially discovered.
"That's great luck," he said to Johnson, "and if we can only get on a
few miles, we may be free. Make a hot fire, Mr. Brunton, and let me
know as soon as you get steam on. Meanwhile, men, the farther on we
get, the more gained! You want to get away from the Devil's Thumb;
well, now is your chance!"
Suddenly the brig stopped. "What's the matter?" shouted Shandon.
"Wall, have the tow-ropes broken?"
"No," answered Wall, leaning over the railing. "See, there are the men
running back; they are climbing on board; they seem very much
frightened."
"What's happened?" cried Shandon, running forward.
"On board, on board!" cried the sailors, evidently exceedingly
terrified.
Shandon looked towards the north, and shuddered in spite of himself.
A strange animal, with alarming motions, whose steaming tongue hung
from huge jaws, was bounding along within a cable's length from the
ship; it seemed more than twenty feet high; its hair stood on end; it
was chasing the sailors as if about to seize them, while its tail,
which was at least ten feet long, lashed the snow and tossed it about
in dense gusts. The sight of the monster froze the blood in the veins
of the boldest.
[Illustration: "A strange animal was bounding along within a cable's
length from the ship."]
"It's an enormous bear," said one.
"It's the beast of Gévaudan!"
"It's the lion of the Apocalypse!"
Shandon ran to his cabin to get a gun which he kept always loaded; the
doctor seized his arms, and made ready to fire at the beast, which by
its size, recalled antediluvian monsters.
It drew near with long leaps; Shandon and the doctor fired at the same
time, and suddenly the report of the pieces agitated the air and
produced an unlooked-for effect.
The doctor gazed attentively, and could not help bursting out
laughing. "It's refraction!" said he.
"Refraction!" cried Shandon.
But a terrible cry from the crew interrupted them.
"The dog!" shouted Clifton.
"The dog-captain!" repeated his companions.
"It's he!" cried Pen.
In fact, it was the dog who had burst his bonds and had made his way
to the surface of the ice through another hole. At that moment the
refraction, by a phenomenon common in these latitudes, exaggerated his
size, and this had only been broken by the report of the guns; but,
notwithstanding, a disastrous impression had been produced upon the
minds of the sailors, who were not very much inclined to admit any
explanation of the fact from physical causes. The adventure of the
Devil's Thumb, the reappearance of the dog under such peculiar
circumstances, completely upset them, and murmurs arose on all sides.
CHAPTER XII.
CAPTAIN HATTERAS.
The -Forward- was advancing rapidly under steam between the ice-fields
and the mountains of ice. Johnson was at the helm. Shandon was
examining the horizon with his snow-spectacles; but his joy was brief,
for he soon saw that the passage was blocked up by a circle of
mountains.
Nevertheless, he preferred to take his chances with pushing on, to
returning.
The dog followed the brig on the ice, but he kept at a respectful
distance. Only, if he lagged too far, there was to be heard a singular
whistle which at once brought him on.
The first time that this whistle was heard, the sailors looked around;
they were alone on the deck, talking together; there was no unknown
person there; and yet this whistle was often repeated.
Clifton was the first to take alarm.
"Do you hear that?" he said; "and do you see how the dog starts as
soon as he hears it?"
"It's past belief," said Gripper.
"Very well!" cried Pen; "I'm not going any farther."
"Pen is right," said Brunton; "it's tempting Providence."
"Tempting the Devil," answered Clifton. "I should rather give up all
my share of the pay than go on."
"We shall never get back," said Bolton, dejectedly.
The crew was exceedingly demoralized.
"Not a foot farther!" cried Wolston; "is that your opinion?"
"Yes, yes!" answered the sailors.
"Well," said Bolton, "let's go find the commander; I'll undertake to
tell him."
The sailors in a dense group made their way to the quarter-deck.
[Illustration]
The -Forward- was then advancing into a large arena, which had a
diameter of about eight hundred feet; it was completely closed, with
the exception of one place through which the ship entered.
Shandon saw that he was locking himself in. But what was to be done?
How could he retreat? He felt all the responsibility, and his hand
nervously grasped his glass.
The doctor looked on in silence, with folded arms; he gazed at the
walls of ice, the average height of which was about three hundred
feet. A cloud of fog lay like a dome above the gulf.
Then it was that Bolton spoke to the commander.
"Commander," said he in a broken voice, "we can't go any farther."
"What's that you are saying?" said Shandon, who felt enraged at the
slight given to his authority.
"We have come to say, Commander," resumed Bolton, "that we have done
enough for this invisible captain, and that we have made up our minds
not to go on any farther."
"Made up your minds?" cried Shandon. "Is that the way you talk to me,
Bolton? Take care."
"You need not threaten," retorted Pen, brutally, "we are not going any
farther."
Shandon stepped towards the mutinous sailors, when the boatswain said
to him in a low voice,--
"Commander, if we want to get out of this place, we have not a moment
to lose. There's an iceberg crowding towards the entrance; it may
prevent our getting out and imprison us here."
Shandon returned to look at the state of affairs.
"You will account for this afterwards," he said to the mutineers.
"Now, go about!"
The sailors hastened to their places. The -Forward- went about
rapidly; coal was heaped on the fires; it was necessary to beat the
iceberg. There was a race between them; the brig stood towards the
south, the berg was drifting northward, threatening to bar the way.
"Put on all the steam, Brunton, do you hear?" said Shandon.
The -Forward- glided like a bird through the broken ice, which her
prow cut through easily; the ship shook with the motion of the screw,
and the gauge indicated a full pressure of steam, the deafening roar
of which resounded above everything.
"Load the safety-valve!" cried Shandon.
The engineer obeyed at the risk of bursting the boilers.
But these desperate efforts were vain; the iceberg, driven by a
submarine current, moved rapidly towards the exit; the brig was still
three cable-lengths distant, when the mountain, entering the vacant
space like a wedge, joined itself to its companions, and closed the
means of escape.
"We are lost!" cried Shandon, who was unable to restrain that unwise
speech.
"Lost!" repeated the crew.
"Lower the boats!" cried many.
"To the steward's pantry!" cried Pen and some of his set; "if we must
drown, let us drown in gin!"
The wildest confusion raged among these half-wild men. Shandon felt
unable to assert his authority; he wanted to give some orders; he
hesitated, he stammered; his thoughts could find no words. The doctor
walked up and down nervously. Johnson folded his arms stoically, and
said not a word.
Suddenly a strong, energetic, commanding voice was heard above the
din, uttering these words:--
"Every man to his place! Prepare to go about!"
[Illustration]
Johnson shuddered, and, without knowing what he did, turned the wheel
rapidly.
It was time; the brig, going under full steam, was about crashing
against the walls of its prison.
But while Johnson instinctively obeyed, Shandon, Clawbonny, the crew,
all, even down to Warren the fireman, who had abandoned his fires, and
Strong the cook, who had fled from his galley, were collected on the
deck, and all saw issuing from the cabin, the key of which he alone
possessed, a man.
This man was the sailor Garry.
"Sir!" cried Shandon, turning pale, "Garry--by what right do you give
orders here?"
"Duke!" said Garry, repeating the whistle which had so surprised the
crew.
The dog, on hearing his real name, sprang on the quarter-deck, and lay
down quietly at his master's feet.
The crew did not utter a word. The key which the captain alone should
possess, the dog which he had sent and which had identified him, so to
speak, the tone of command which it was impossible to mistake,--all
this had a strong influence on the minds of the sailors, and was
enough to establish firmly Garry's authority.
Besides, Garry was hardly to be recognized; he had removed the thick
whiskers which had surrounded his face, thereby giving it a more
impassible, energetic, and commanding expression; he stood before them
clothed in a captain's uniform, which he had had placed in his cabin.
So the crew of the -Forward-, animated in spite of themselves,
shouted,--
"Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for the captain!"
"Shandon," he said to his first officer, "have the crew put in line; I
want to inspect them."
Shandon obeyed, and gave the requisite orders with an agitated voice.
The captain walked in front of the officers and men, saying a word to
each, and treating him according to his past conduct.
When he had finished his inspection, he went back to the quarter-deck,
and calmly uttered these words:--
"Officers and sailors, I am an Englishman like you all, and my motto
is that of Lord Nelson,--'England expects every man to do his duty.'
"As Englishmen, I am unwilling, we are unwilling, that others should
go where we have not been. As Englishmen, I shall not endure, we shall
not endure, that others should have the glory of going farther north
than we. If human foot is ever to reach the Pole, it must be the foot
of an Englishman! Here is the flag of our country. I have equipped
this ship, I have devoted my fortune to this undertaking, I shall
devote to it my life and yours, but this flag shall float over the
North Pole. Fear not. You shall receive a thousand pounds sterling for
every degree that we get farther north after this day. Now we are at
the seventy-second, and there are ninety in all. Figure it out. My
name will be proof enough. It means energy and patriotism. I am
Captain Hatteras."
"Captain Hatteras!" cried Shandon. And this name, familiar to them
all, soon spread among all the crew.
"Now," resumed Hatteras, "let us anchor the brig to the ice; let the
fires be put out, and every one return to his usual occupation.
Shandon, I want to speak with you about the ship. You will join me in
my cabin with the doctor, Wall, and the boatswain. Johnson, dismiss
the men."
Hatteras, calm and cold, quietly left the poop-deck, while Shandon had
the brig made fast to the ice.
Who was this Hatteras, and why did his name make so deep an impression
upon the crew?
John Hatteras, the only son of a London brewer, who died in 1852,
worth six million pounds, took to the sea at an early age, unmindful
of the large fortune which was to come to him. Not that he had any
commercial designs, but a longing for geographical discovery possessed
him; he was continually dreaming of setting foot on some spot
untrodden of man.
When twenty years old, he had the vigorous constitution of thin,
sanguine men; an energetic face, with well-marked lines, a high
forehead, rising straight from the eyes, which were handsome but cold,
thin lips, indicating a mouth chary of words, medium height, well-knit
muscular limbs, indicated a man ready for any experience. Any one who
saw him would have called him bold, and any one who heard him would
have called him coldly passionate; he was a man who would never
retreat, and who would risk the lives of others as coldly as his own.
One would hence think twice before following him in his expeditions.
John Hatteras had a great deal of English pride, and it was he who
once made this haughty reply to a Frenchman.
The Frenchman said with what he considered politeness, and even
kindness,--
"If I were not a Frenchman, I should like to be an Englishman."
"If I were not an Englishman, I should like to be an Englishman!"
That retort points the nature of the man.
He would have liked to reserve for his fellow-countrymen the monopoly
of geographical discovery; but much to his chagrin, during previous
centuries, they had done but little in the way of discovery.
America was discovered by the Genoese, Christopher Columbus; the East
Indies by the Portuguese, Vasco de Gama; China by the Portuguese,
Fernao d'Andrada; Terra del Fuego by the Portuguese, Magellan; Canada
by the Frenchman, Jacques Cartier; the islands of Sumatra, Java, etc.,
Labrador, Brazil, the Cape of Good Hope, the Azores, Madeira,
Newfoundland, Guinea, Congo, Mexico, White Cape, Greenland, Iceland,
the South Pacific Ocean, California, Japan, Cambodia, Peru,
Kamschatka, the Philippine Islands, Spitzbergen, Cape Horn, Behring
Strait, New Zealand, Van Diemen's Land, New Britain, New Holland, the
Louisiana, Island of Jan-Mayen, by Icelanders, Scandinavians,
Frenchmen, Russians, Portuguese, Danes, Spaniards, Genoese, and
Dutchmen; but no Englishmen figured among them, and it was a constant
source of grief to Hatteras to see his fellow-countrymen excluded from
the glorious band of sailors who made the great discoveries of the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
Hatteras consoled himself somewhat when he considered modern times:
the English took their revenge with Stuart, McDougall Stuart, Burke,
Wells, King, Gray, in Australia; with Palliser in America; with
Havnoan in Syria; with Cyril Graham, Waddington, Cunningham, in India;
and with Barth, Burton, Speke, Grant, and Livingstone in Africa.
But this was not enough; for Hatteras these men were rather finishers
than discoverers; something better was to be done, so he invented a
country in order to have the honor of discovering it.
Now he had noticed that if the English were in a minority with regard
to the early discoveries, that if it was necessary to go back to Cook
to make sure of New Caledonia in 1774, and of the Sandwich Islands
where he was killed in 1778, there was nevertheless one corner of the
globe on which they had centred all their efforts.
This was the northern seas and lands of North America.
In fact, the list of polar discoveries runs as follows:--
Nova Zembla, discovered by Willoughby in 1553.
Island of Wiegehts, discovered by Barrow in 1556.
West Coast of Greenland, discovered by Davis in 1585.
Davis Strait, discovered by Davis in 1587.
Spitzbergen, discovered by Willoughby in 1596.
Hudson's Bay, discovered by Hudson in 1610.
Baffin's Bay, discovered by Baffin in 1616.
During recent years Hearne, Mackenzie, John Ross, Parry, Franklin,
Richardson, Beechey, James Ross, Back, Dease, Simpson, Rae,
Inglefield, Belcher, Austin, Kellet, Moore, MacClure, Kennedy,
MacClintock, were incessantly exploring these unknown regions.
The northern coast of America had been accurately made out, the
Northwest Passage nearly discovered, but that was not enough; there
was something greater to be done, and this John Hatteras had twice
tried, fitting out ships at his own expense; he wanted to reach the
Pole itself, and thus to crown the list of English discoveries by a
glorious success.
To reach the Pole itself was the aim of his life.
After many successful voyages in the southern seas, Hatteras tried for
the first time in 1846 to reach the North through Baffin's Bay, but he
could get no farther than latitude 74°; he sailed in the sloop
-Halifax-; his crew suffered terribly, and John Hatteras carried his
temerity so far that henceforth sailors were averse to undertaking a
similar expedition under such a leader.
Notwithstanding, in 1850, Hatteras succeeded in obtaining for the
schooner -Farewell- about twenty determined men, but who were
persuaded especially by the high pay offered their boldness. It was
then that Dr. Clawbonny began to correspond with John Hatteras, whom
he did not know, about accompanying him; but the post of surgeon was
filled, fortunately for the doctor.
The -Farewell-, following the route taken by the -Neptune- of Aberdeen
in 1817, went to the north of Spitzbergen, as far as latitude 76°.
There they were obliged to winter; but their sufferings were such, and
the cold so intense, that of all on board, Hatteras alone returned to
England. He was picked up by a Danish whaler after he had walked more
than two hundred miles across the ice.
The excitement produced by the return of this man alone was intense;
who, after this, would accompany Hatteras in his bold attempts? Still
he did not abandon the hope of trying again. His father, the brewer,
died, and he came into possession of an enormous fortune.
Meanwhile something had happened which cut John Hatteras to the heart.
A brig, the -Advance-, carrying seventeen men, equipped by Mr.
Grinnell, a merchant, commanded by Dr. Kane, and sent out in search of
Franklin, went as far north, through Baffin's Bay and Smith's Sound,
as latitude 82°, nearer to the Pole than any of his predecessors had
gone.
Now this was an American ship. Grinnell was an American, Kane was an
American!
It is easy to understand how the customary disdain of the Englishman
for the Yankee turned to hatred in the heart of Hatteras; he made up
his mind, at any price, to beat his bold rival, and to reach the Pole
itself.
For two years he lived at Liverpool incognito. He was taken for a
sailor. He saw in Richard Shandon the man he wanted; he presented his
plans by an anonymous letter to him and to Dr. Clawbonny. The
-Forward- was built and equipped. Hatteras kept his name a secret;
otherwise no one would have gone with him. He resolved only to take
command of the brig at some critical juncture, and when his crew had
gone too far to be able to retreat; he kept in reserve, as we have
seen, the power of making generous offers to the men, so that they
would follow him to the end of the world.
In fact, it was to the end of the world that he wanted to go.
Now matters looked very serious, and John Hatteras made himself known.
His dog, the faithful Duke, the companion of his expeditions, was the
first to recognize him, and fortunately for the bold, and
unfortunately for the timid, it was firmly established that the
captain of the -Forward- was John Hatteras.
[Illustration: "John Hatteras."]
CHAPTER XIII.
THE CAPTAIN'S PLANS.
The appearance of this famous person was variously received by the
different members of the crew: some allied themselves strongly with
him, moved both by boldness and by avarice; others took renewed
interest in the expedition, but they reserved to themselves the right
of protesting later; besides, at that time, it was hard to make any
resistance to such a man. Hence every man went back to his place. The
20th of May was Sunday, and consequently a day of rest for the crew.
The officers took counsel together in the doctor's cabin; there were
present Hatteras, Shandon, Wall, Johnson, and the doctor.
"Gentlemen," said the captain, with his peculiarly gentle but
impressive voice, "you know my project of going to the Pole; I want to
get your opinion of the undertaking. What do you think about it,
Shandon?"
"I have not to think, Captain," answered Shandon, coldly; "I have only
to obey."
Hatteras was not surprised at this answer.
"Richard Shandon," he resumed with equal coldness, "I ask your opinion
about our probable chance of success."
"Well, Captain," answered Shandon, "facts must answer for me; all
attempts hitherto have failed; I hope we may be more fortunate."
"We shall be. And, gentlemen, what do you think?"
"As for me," replied the doctor, "I consider your design practicable,
Captain; and since there is no doubt but that at some time or other
explorers will reach the Pole, I don't see why we should not do it."
"There are very good reasons why we should," answered Hatteras, "for
we have taken measures to make it possible, and we shall profit by the
experience of others. And, Shandon, you must accept my thanks for the
care you have given to the equipment of the brig; there are some
ill-disposed men in the crew, whom I shall soon bring to reason; but
on the whole, I can give nothing but praise."
[Illustration]
Shandon bowed coldly. His position on the -Forward-, of which he had
thought himself commander, was a false one. Hatteras understood this,
and said nothing more about it.
"As for you, gentlemen," he resumed, addressing Wall and Johnson, "I
could not myself have chosen officers more skilled and intrepid."
"On my word, Captain, I am your man," answered Johnson; "and although
I think your plan a very bold one, you can count on me to the end."
"And on me too," said Wall.
"As for you, Doctor, I know your worth--"
"Well, you know then a great deal more than I do," answered the
doctor, quickly.
"Now, gentlemen," said Hatteras, "it is well that you should know on
what good grounds I have made up my mind about the accessibility of
the Pole. In 1817 the -Neptune-, of Aberdeen, went to the north of
Spitzbergen, as far as latitude 82°. In 1826 the celebrated Parry,
after his third voyage in polar seas, started also from the extremity
of Spitzbergen, and on sledges went one hundred and fifty miles
farther north. In 1852, Captain Inglefield reached, through Smith's
Sound, latitude 78° 35'. All these were English ships, and were
commanded by Englishmen, our fellow-countrymen."
Here Hatteras paused.
"I ought to add," he resumed with some formality, and as if he could
hardly bring himself to utter the words,--"I ought to add that in 1854
the American, Captain Kane, in the brig -Advance-, went still farther
north, and that his lieutenant, Morton, journeying over the ice,
hoisted the United States flag beyond the eighty-second degree. Having
once said this, I shall not return to it. Now the main point is that
the captains of the -Neptune-, the -Enterprise-, the -Isabella-, and
the -Advance- agree in the statement that beyond these high latitudes
there is an open polar sea, entirely free from ice."
"Free from ice!" cried Shandon, interrupting the captain, "it's
impossible!"
"You will notice, Shandon," observed Hatteras, quietly, while his eye
lighted up for an instant, "that I quote both facts and authorities. I
must add that in 1851, when Penny was stationed by the side of
Wellington Channel, his lieutenant, Stewart, found himself in the
presence of an open sea, and that his report was confirmed when, in
1853, Sir Edward Belcher wintered in Northumberland Bay, in latitude
76° 52', and longitude 99° 20'; these reports are indisputable, and
one must be very incredulous not to admit them."
"Still, Captain," persisted Shandon, "facts are as contradictory--"
"You're wrong, Shandon, you're wrong!" cried Dr. Clawbonny; "facts
never contradict a scientific statement; the captain will, I trust,
excuse me."
"Go on, Doctor!" said Hatteras.
"Well, listen to this, Shandon; it results very clearly from
geographical facts, and from the study of isothermal lines, that the
coldest spot on the globe is not on the Pole itself; like the magnetic
pole, it lies a few degrees distant. So the calculations of Brewster,
Berghaus, and other physicists prove that in our hemisphere there are
two poles of extreme cold: one in Asia in latitude 79° 30' N., and
longitude 120° E.; the other is in America, in latitude 78° N., and
longitude 97° W. This last alone concerns us, and you see, Shandon,
that it is more than twelve degrees below the Pole. Well, I ask you
why, then, the sea should not be as free from ice as it often is in
summer in latitude 66°, that is to say, at the southern end of
Baffin's Bay?"
"Well put," answered Johnson; "Dr. Clawbonny talks of those things
like a man who understands them."
"It seems possible," said James Wall.
"Mere conjectures! nothing but hypotheses!" answered Shandon,
obstinately.
"Well, Shandon," said Hatteras, "let us consider the two cases; either
the sea is free from ice, or it is not, and in neither case will it be
impossible to reach the Pole. If it is free, the -Forward- will take
us there without difficulty; if it is frozen, we must try to reach it
over the ice by our sledges. You will confess that it is not
impracticable; having once come with our brig to latitude 83°, we
shall have only about six hundred miles between us and the Pole."
"And what are six hundred miles," said the doctor, briskly, "when it
is proved that a Cossack, Alexis Markoff, went along the frozen sea,
north of Russia, on sledges drawn by dogs, for a distance of eight
hundred miles, in twenty-four days?"
"You hear him, Shandon," answered Hatteras, "and will you say that an
Englishman cannot do as much as a Cossack?"
"Never!" cried the enthusiastic doctor.
"Never!" repeated the boatswain.
"Well, Shandon?" asked the captain.
"Captain," answered Shandon, coldly, "I can only repeat what I have
said,--I shall obey you."
"Well. Now," continued Hatteras, "let us consider our present
situation; we are caught in the ice, and it seems to me impossible for
us to reach Smith's Sound this year. This is what we must do."
Hatteras unfolded on the table one of the excellent charts published
in 1859 by the order of the Admiralty.
"Be good enough to look here. If Smith's Sound is closed, Lancaster
Sound is not, to the west of Baffin's Bay; in my opinion, we ought to
go up this sound as far as Barrow Strait, and thence to Beechey
Island. This has been done a hundred times by sailing-vessels; we
shall have no difficulty, going under steam. Once at Beechey Island,
we shall follow Wellington Sound as far northward as possible, to
where it meets the channel, connecting it with Queen's Sound, at the
place where the open sea was seen. It is now only the 20th of May; if
nothing happens, we shall be there in a month, and from there we shall
start for the Pole. What do you say to that, gentlemen?"
"Evidently," said Johnson, "it's the only way open to us."
"Well, we shall take it, and to-morrow. Let Sunday be a day of rest;
you will see, Shandon, that the Bible is read as usual; the religious
exercises do the men good, and a sailor more than any one ought to put
his trust in God."
"Very well, Captain," answered Shandon, who went away with the second
officer and the boatswain.
"Doctor," said Hatteras, pointing at Shandon, "there's an offended
man, whose pride has ruined him; I can no longer depend upon him."
Early the next day the captain had the launch lowered; he went to
reconnoitre the icebergs about the basin, of which the diameter was
hardly more than two hundred yards. He noticed that by the gradual
pressure of the ice, this space threatened to grow smaller; hence it
became necessary to make a breach somewhere, to save the ship from
being crushed; by the means he employed, it was easy to see that John
Hatteras was an energetic man.
In the first place he had steps cut, by which he climbed to the top of
an iceberg; from that point he saw it would be easy to open a path to
the southwest; by his orders an opening was made in the middle of an
iceberg, a task which was completed by Monday evening.
[Illustration]
Hatteras could not depend on his blasting-cylinders of eight or ten
pounds of powder, whose action would have been insignificant against
such large masses; they were only of use to break the field-ice; hence
he placed in the opening a thousand pounds of powder, carefully laying
it where it should be of the utmost service. This chamber, to which
ran a long fuse, surrounded by gutta-percha, opened on the outside.
The gallery, leading thereto, was filled with snow and lumps of ice,
to which the cold of the next night gave the consistency of granite.
In fact, the temperature, under the influence of the east-wind, fell
to 12°.
The next day at seven o'clock the -Forward- was under steam, ready to
seize any chance of escape. Johnson was charged with lighting the
mine; the fuse was calculated to burn half an hour before exploding
the powder. Hence Johnson had plenty of time to get back to the ship;
indeed, within ten minutes he was at his post.
The crew were all on deck; the day was dry and tolerably clear; the
snow was no longer falling; Hatteras, standing on the deck with
Shandon and the doctor, counted the minutes on his watch.
At thirty-five minutes after eight a dull explosion was heard, much
less deafening than had been anticipated. The outline of the mountains
was suddenly changed, as by an earthquake; a dense white smoke rose
high in the air, and long cracks appeared in the side of the iceberg,
of which the upper part was hurled to a great distance, and fell in
fragments about the -Forward-.
But the way was by no means free yet; huge lumps of ice were suspended
upon the neighboring icebergs, and their fall threatened to close the
exit.
Hatteras saw their situation in a flash of the eye.
"Wolston!" he shouted.
The gunner hastened to him.
"Captain!" he said.
"Put a triple charge in the forward gun, and ram it in as hard as
possible!"
"Are we going to batter the iceberg down with cannon-balls?" asked the
doctor.
"No," answered Hatteras. "That would do no good. No balls, Wolston,
but a triple charge of powder. Be quick!"
In a few moments the gun was loaded.
"What is he going to do without a ball?" muttered Shandon between his
teeth.
"We'll soon see," answered the doctor.
"We are all ready, Captain," cried Wolston.
"Well," answered Hatteras. "Brunton!" he shouted to the engineer,
"make ready! Forward a little!"
Brunton opened the valves, and the screw began to move; the -Forward-
drew near the blown-up iceberg.
"Aim carefully at the passage!" cried the captain to the gunner.
He obeyed; when the brig was only half a cable-length distant,
Hatteras gave the order,--
"Fire!"
A loud report followed, and the fragments of ice, detached by the
commotion of the air, fell suddenly into the sea. The simple
concussion had been enough.
[Illustration]
"Put on full steam, Brunton!" shouted Hatteras. "Straight for the
passage, Johnson!"
Johnson was at the helm; the brig, driven by the screw, which tossed
the water freely, entered easily the open passage. It was time. The
-Forward- had hardly passed through the opening, before it closed
behind it.
It was an exciting moment, and the only calm and collected man on
board was the captain. So the crew, amazed at the success of this
device, could not help shouting,--
"Hurrah for John Hatteras!"
CHAPTER XIV.
THE EXPEDITIONS IN SEARCH OF FRANKLIN.
Wednesday, the 21st of May, the -Forward- resumed her perilous voyage,
making her way dexterously through the packs and icebergs, thanks to
steam, which is seldom used by explorers in polar seas; she seemed to
sport among the moving masses; one would have said she felt the hand
of a skilled master, and that, like a horse under a skilful rider, she
obeyed the thought of her captain.
The weather grew warmer. At six o'clock in the morning the thermometer
stood at 26°, at six in the evening at 29°, and at midnight at 25°;
the wind was light from the southeast.
Thursday, at about three o'clock in the morning, the -Forward- arrived
in sight of Possession Bay, on the American shore, at the entrance of
Lancaster Sound; soon Cape Burney came into sight. A few Esquimaux
came out to the ship; but Hatteras could not stop to speak with them.
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