Then Bell went on ahead; Hatteras followed next; Simpson and the
doctor sought also to keep in a straight line behind, with their eyes
on Hatteras alone; and yet, in spite of all their efforts, they often
got thirty or forty degrees from the right way, much to their
annoyance.
Sunday, January 15th, Hatteras judged that they had come about one
hundred miles to the south; this morning was set aside to mending
their clothes and materials; the reading of divine service was not
forgotten.
At noon they started again; the temperature was very low; the
thermometer marked only -22°; the air was very clear.
Suddenly, without warning, a frozen vapor arose into the air from the
ice, to a height of about ninety feet, and hung motionless; no one
could see a foot before him; this vapor formed in long, sharp crystals
upon their clothing.
[Illustration]
The travellers, surprised by this phenomenon, which is called
frost-rime, only thought of getting together; so immediately various
shouts were heard:--
"O Simpson!"
"Bell, this way!"
"Dr. Clawbonny!"
"Doctor!"
"Captain, where are you?"
They began to look for one another with outstretched arms, wandering
through the fog which their eyes could not pierce. But to their
disappointment they could hear no answer; the vapor seemed incapable
of carrying sound.
Each one then thought of firing his gun as a signal to the others. But
if their voices were too feeble, the reports of the fire-arms were too
loud; for the echoes, repeated in every direction, made but a confused
roar, in which no particular direction could be perceived.
Then they began to act, each one as he thought best. Hatteras stood
still and folded his arms. Simpson contented himself with stopping the
sledge. Bell retraced his steps, feeling them with his hand. The
doctor, stumbling over the blocks of ice, wandered here and there,
getting more and more bewildered.
At the end of five minutes he said to himself,--
"This can't last long! Singular climate! This is too much! There is
nothing to help us, without speaking of these sharp crystals which cut
my face. Halloo, Captain!" he shouted again.
But he heard no answer; he fired his gun, but in spite of his thick
gloves the iron burned his hands. Meanwhile he thought he saw a
confused mass moving near him.
"There's some one," he said. "Hatteras! Bell! Simpson! Is that you?
Come, answer!"
A dull roar was alone heard.
"Ah!" thought the doctor, "what is that?"
The object approached; it lost its first size and appeared in more
definite shape. A terrible thought flashed into the doctor's mind.
"A bear!" he said to himself.
In fact, it was a huge bear; lost in the fog, it came and went with
great danger to the men, whose presence it certainly did not suspect.
"Matters are growing complicated!" thought the doctor, standing still.
Sometimes he felt the animal's breath, which was soon lost in the
frost-rime; again he would see the monster's huge paws beating the air
so near him that his clothes were occasionally torn by its sharp
claws; he jumped back, and the animal disappeared like a
phantasmagoric spectre.
[Illustration]
But as he sprang back he found an elevation beneath his feet; he
climbed up first one block of ice, then another, feeling his way with
his staff.
"An iceberg!" he said to himself; "if I can get to the top I am safe."
With these words he climbed up an elevation of about ninety feet with
surprising agility; he arose above the frozen mist, the top of which
was sharply defined.
"Good!" he said to himself; and looking about him he saw his three
companions emerging from the vapor.
"Hatteras!"
"Dr. Clawbonny!"
"Bell!"
"Simpson!"
These names were shouted out almost at the same time; the sky, lit up
by a magnificent halo, sent forth pale rays which colored the
frost-rime as if it were a cloud, and the top of the icebergs seemed
to rise from a mass of molten silver. The travellers found themselves
within a circle of less than a hundred feet in diameter. Thanks to the
purity of the air in this upper layer in this low temperature, their
words could be easily heard, and they were able to talk on the top of
this iceberg. After the first shots, each one, hearing no answer, had
only thought of climbing above the mist.
"The sledge!" shouted the captain.
"It's eighty feet beneath us," answered Simpson.
"Is it all right?"
"All right."
"And the bear?" asked the doctor.
"What bear?" said Bell.
"A bear!" said Hatteras; "let's go down."
"No!" said the doctor; "we shall lose our way, and have to begin it
all over again."
"And if he eats our dogs--" said Hatteras.
At that moment Duke was heard barking, the sound rising through the
mist.
"That's Duke!" shouted Hatteras; "there's something wrong. I'm going
down."
All sorts of howling arose to their ears; Duke and the dogs were
barking furiously. The noise sounded like a dull murmur, like the roar
of a crowded, noisy room. They knew that some invisible struggle was
going on below, and the mist was occasionally agitated like the sea
when marine monsters are fighting.
"Duke, Duke!" shouted the captain, as he made ready to enter again
into the frost-rime.
"Wait a moment, Hatteras,--wait a moment! It seems to me that the fog
is lifting."
It was not lifting, but sinking, like water in a pool; it appeared to
be descending into the ground from which it had risen; the summits of
the icebergs grew larger; others, which had been hidden, arose like
new islands; by an optical illusion, which may be easily imagined, the
travellers, clinging to these ice-cones, seemed to be rising in the
air, while the top of the mist sank beneath them.
Soon the top of the sledge appeared, then the harnessed dogs, and then
about thirty other animals, then great objects moving confusedly, and
Duke leaping about with his head alternately rising and sinking in the
frozen mist.
"Foxes!" shouted Bell.
"Bears!" said the doctor; "one, two, three."
"Our dogs, our provisions!" cried Simpson.
A troop of foxes and bears, having come across the sledge, were
ravaging the provisions. Their instinct of pillaging united them in
perfect harmony; the dogs were barking furiously, but the animals paid
no heed, but went on in their work of destruction.
"Fire!" shouted the captain, discharging his piece.
[Illustration: "'Fire!' shouted the captain, discharging his piece."]
His companions did the same. But at the combined report the bears,
raising their heads and uttering a singular roar, gave the signal to
depart; they fell into a little trot which a galloping horse could not
have kept up with, and, followed by the foxes, they soon disappeared
amid the ice to the north.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE CAIRN.
This phenomenon, which is peculiar to the polar regions, had lasted
three quarters of an hour; the bears and foxes had had plenty of time;
these provisions arrived opportunely for these animals, who were
nearly starved during the inclement weather; the canvas cover of the
sledge was torn by their strong claws, the casks of pemmican were
opened and emptied; the biscuit-sacks pillaged, the tea spilled over
the snow, a barrel of alcohol torn open and its contents lost, their
camping materials scattered and damaged, bore witness to the ferocity
of these wild beasts, and their greediness.
"This is a misfortune," said Bell, gazing at this scene of ruin.
"Which is probably irreparable," said Simpson.
"Let us first estimate the loss," interrupted the doctor, "and we'll
talk about it afterwards."
Hatteras, without saying a word, began to gather the scattered boxes
and sacks; they collected the pemmican and biscuits which could be
eaten; the loss of part of their alcohol was much to be regretted; for
if that was gone there would be nothing warm to drink; no tea, no
coffee. In making an inventory of the supplies left, the doctor found
two hundred pounds of pemmican gone, and a hundred and fifty pounds of
biscuit; if their journey continued they would have to subsist on
half-rations.
They then began to discuss what should be done, whether they should
return to the ship and start out again. But how could they make up
their minds to lose the hundred and fifty miles they had already made?
To return without fuel would have a depressing effect upon the spirits
of the crew. Could men be found again to resume their march across the
ice?
Evidently it was better to push on, even at the risk of severe
privations.
The doctor, Hatteras, and Bell were of this opinion; Simpson wanted to
go back; the fatigue of the journey had worn upon his health; he was
visibly weaker; but finding himself alone of this opinion, he resumed
his place at the head of the sledge, and the little caravan continued
its journey to the south.
During the three next days, from the 15th to the 17th of January, all
the monotonous incidents of the voyage were repeated; they advanced
more slowly, and with much fatigue; their legs grew tired; the dogs
dragged the sledge with difficulty; their diminished supply of food
could not comfort men or beasts. The weather was very variable,
changing from intense, dry cold to damp, penetrating mists.
January 18th the aspect of the ice-fields changed suddenly; a great
number of peaks, like sharp-pointed pyramids, and very high, appeared
at the horizon; the ground in certain places came through the snow; it
seemed formed of gneiss, schist, and quartz, with some appearance of
limestone. The travellers at last touched earth again, and this land
they judged to be that called North Cornwall.
The doctor could not help striking the earth with joy; they had now
only a hundred miles to go before reaching Cape Belcher, but their
fatigue increased strangely on this soil, covered with sharp rocks,
and interspersed with dangerous points, crevasses, and precipices;
they had to go down into the depths of these abysses, climb steep
ascents, and cross narrow gorges, in which the snow was drifted to the
depth of thirty or forty feet.
[Illustration]
The travellers soon regretted the almost easy journey over the
ice-fields, which so well suited the sledge; now it had to be dragged
by main force; the weary dogs were insufficient; the men, compelled to
take their place alongside of them, wore themselves out with hauling;
often they had to take off the whole load to get over some steep
hills; a place only ten feet wide often kept them busy for hours; so
in this first day they made only five miles in North Cornwall, which
is certainly well named, for it exhibits all the roughness, the sharp
points, the steep gorges, the confused rockiness, of the southwest
coast of England.
The next day the sledge reached the top of the hills near the shore;
the exhausted travellers, being unable to make a snow-hut, were
obliged to pass the night under the tent, wrapped up in buffalo-skins,
and drying their wet stockings by placing them about their bodies. The
inevitable consequences of such conduct are easily comprehended; that
night the thermometer fell below -44°, and the mercury froze.
Simpson's health caused great anxiety; a persistent cough, violent
rheumatism, and intolerable pain obliged him to lie on the sledge
which he could no longer guide. Bell took his place; he too was
suffering, but not so much as to be incapacitated. The doctor also
felt the consequences of this trip in this terrible weather; but he
uttered no complaint; he walked on, resting on his staff; he made out
the way and helped every one. Hatteras, impassible, and as strong as
on the first day, followed the sledge in silence.
January 20th the weather was so severe that the slightest effort
produced complete prostration. Still, the difficulties of the way were
so great, that Hatteras, the doctor, and Bell harnessed themselves
with the dogs; sudden shocks had broken the front of the sledge, and
they had to stop to repair it. Such delays were frequent every day.
The travellers followed a deep ravine, up to their waists in snow, and
perspiring violently in spite of the intense cold. They did not say a
word. Suddenly Bell, who was near the doctor, looked at him with some
alarm; then, without uttering a word, he picked up a handful of snow
and began rubbing his companion's face violently.
[Illustration]
"Well, Bell!" said the doctor, resisting.
But Bell continued rubbing.
"Come, Bell," began the doctor again, his mouth, nose, and eyes full
of snow, "are you mad? What's the matter?"
"If you have a nose left," answered Bell, "you ought to be grateful to
me."
"A nose!" answered the doctor, quickly, clapping his hand to his face.
"Yes, Doctor, you were frost-bitten; your nose was white when I looked
at you, and if I had not done as I did, you would have lost that
ornament which is in the way on a journey, but agreeable to one's
existence."
In fact, the doctor's nose was almost frozen; the circulation of the
blood was restored in time, and, thanks to Bell, all danger was gone.
"Thanks, Bell!" said the doctor; "I'll be even with you yet."
"I hope so, Doctor," the carpenter answered; "and may Heaven protect
us from worse misfortunes!"
"Alas, Bell," continued the doctor, "you mean Simpson! The poor fellow
is suffering terribly."
"Do you fear for his life?" asked Hatteras, quickly.
"Yes, Captain," answered the doctor.
"And why?"
"He has a violent attack of scurvy; his legs have begun to swell, and
his gums too; the poor fellow lies half frozen on the sledge, and
every movement redoubles his suffering. I pity him, Hatteras, and I
can't do anything to relieve him."
"Poor Simpson!" murmured Bell.
"Perhaps we shall have to halt for a day or two," resumed the doctor.
"Halt!" shouted Hatteras, "when the lives of eighteen men are hanging
on our return!"
"Still--" said the doctor.
"Clawbonny, Bell, listen to me," said Hatteras; "we have food for only
twenty days! Judge for yourselves whether we can stop for a moment!"
Neither the doctor nor Bell made any reply, and the sledge resumed its
progress, which had been delayed for a moment. That evening they
stopped beneath a hillock of ice, in which Bell at once cut a cavern;
the travellers entered it; the doctor passed the night attending to
Simpson; the scurvy had already made fearful ravages, and his
sufferings caused perpetual laments to issue from his swollen lips.
"Ah, Dr. Clawbonny!"
"Courage, my dear fellow!" said the doctor.
"I shall never get well! I feel it! I'd rather die!"
The doctor answered these despairing words by incessant cares;
although worn out by the fatigue of the day, he spent the night in
composing a soothing potion for his patient; but the lime-juice was
ineffectual, and continual friction could not keep down the progress
of the scurvy.
[Illustration]
The next day he had to be placed again upon the sledge, although he
besought them to leave him behind to die in peace; then they resumed
their dreary and difficult march.
The frozen mists penetrated the three men to the bone; the snow and
sleet dashed against them; they were working like draught-horses, and
with a scanty supply of food.
Duke, like his master, kept coming and going, enduring every fatigue,
always alert, finding out by himself the best path; they had perfect
confidence in his wonderful instinct.
During the morning of January 23d, amid almost total darkness, for the
moon was new, Duke had run on ahead; for many hours he was not seen;
Hatteras became uneasy, especially because there were many traces of
bears to be seen; he was uncertain what to do, when suddenly a loud
barking was heard.
Hatteras urged on the sledge, and soon he found the faithful animal at
the bottom of a ravine. Duke stood as motionless as if turned to
stone, barking before a sort of cairn made of pieces of limestone,
covered with a cement of ice.
"This time," said the doctor, detaching his harness, "it's a cairn,
there's no doubt of that."
"What's that to us?" asked Hatteras.
"Hatteras, if it is a cairn, it may contain some document of value for
us; perhaps some provisions, and it would be worth while to see."
"What European could have come as far as this?" asked Hatteras,
shrugging his shoulders.
"But in lack of Europeans," answered the doctor, "cannot Esquimaux
have made it here to contain what they have fished or shot? It's their
habit, I think."
"Well, go and look at it," continued Hatteras; "but I'm afraid it will
be hardly worth your while."
Clawbonny and Bell walked to the cairn with picks in their hands. Duke
continued barking furiously. The limestones were firmly fastened
together by the ice; but a few blows scattered them on the ground.
"There's something there, evidently," said the doctor.
"I think so," answered Bell.
They rapidly destroyed the cairn. Soon they found a bundle and in it a
damp paper. The doctor took it with a beating heart. Hatteras ran
forward, seized the paper, and read:--
"Altam..., -Porpoise-, December 13, 1860, longitude 12..°, latitude
8..° 35'."
"The -Porpoise-?" said the doctor.
"The -Porpoise-!" replied Hatteras. "I never heard of a ship of this
name in these seas."
"It is clear," resumed the doctor, "that travellers, perhaps
shipwrecked sailors, have been here within two months."
"That is sure," said Bell.
"What are we going to do?" asked the doctor.
"Push on," answered Hatteras, coldly. "I don't know anything about any
ship called the -Porpoise-, but I know that the brig -Forward- is
waiting for our return."
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE DEATH OF SIMPSON.
They resumed their journey; the mind of every one was filled with new
and unexpected ideas, for to meet any one in these regions is about
the most remarkable event that can happen. Hatteras frowned uneasily.
"The -Porpoise-!" he kept saying to himself; "what ship is that? And
what is it doing so near the Pole?"
At the thought, he shuddered. The doctor and Bell only thought of the
two results which might follow the discovery of this document, that
they might be of service in saving some one, or, possibly, that they
might be saved by them. But the difficulties, obstacles, and dangers
soon returned, and they could only think of their perilous position.
[Illustration: "They could only think of their perilous position."]
Simpson's condition grew worse; the doctor could not be mistaken about
the symptoms of a speedy death. He could do nothing; he was himself
suffering from a painful ophthalmia, which might be accompanied by
deafness if he did not take care. The twilight at that time gave light
enough, and this light, reflected by the snow, was bad for the eyes;
it was hard to protect them from the reflection, for glasses would be
soon covered with a layer of ice which rendered them useless. Hence
they had to guard carefully against accident by the way, and they had
to run the risk of ophthalmia; still, the doctor and Bell covered
their eyes and took turns in guiding the sledge. It ran far from
smoothly on its worn runners; it became harder and harder to drag it;
their path grew more difficult; the land was of volcanic origin, and
all cut up with craters; the travellers had been compelled gradually
to ascend fifteen hundred feet to reach the top of the mountains. The
temperature was lower, the storms were more violent, and it was a
sorry sight to see these poor men on these lonely peaks.
[Illustration]
They were also made sick by the whiteness of everything; the uniform
brilliancy tired them; it made them giddy; the earth seemed to wave
beneath their feet with no fixed point on the immense white surface;
they felt as one does on shipboard when the deck seems to be giving
way beneath the foot; they could not get over the impression, and the
persistence of the feeling wearied their heads. Their limbs grew
torpid, their minds grew dull, and often they walked like men half
asleep; then a slip or a sudden fall would rouse them for a few
moments from their sluggishness.
January 25th they began to descend the steep slopes, which was even
more fatiguing; a false step, which it was by no means easy to avoid,
might hurl them down into deep ravines where they would certainly have
perished. Towards evening a violent tempest raged about the snowy
summit; it was impossible to withstand the force of the hurricane;
they had to lie down on the ground, but so low was the temperature
that they ran a risk of being frozen to death at once.
Bell, with Hatteras's aid, built with much difficulty a snow-house, in
which the poor men sought shelter; there they partook of a few
fragments of pemmican and a little hot tea; only four gallons of
alcohol were left; and they had to use this to allay their thirst, for
snow cannot be absorbed if taken in its natural state; it has to be
melted first. In the temperate zone, where the cold hardly ever sinks
much below the freezing-point, it can do no harm; but beyond the Polar
Circle it is different; it reaches so low a temperature that the bare
hand can no more touch it than it can iron at a white heat, and this,
although it is a very poor conductor of heat; so great is the
difference of temperature between it and the stomach that its
absorption produces real suffocation. The Esquimaux prefer severe
thirst to quenching it with this snow, which does not replace water,
and only augments the thirst instead of appeasing it. The only way the
travellers could make use of it was by melting it over the
spirit-lamp.
At three in the morning, when the tempest was at its height, the
doctor took his turn at the watch; he was lying in a corner of the hut
when a groan of distress from Simpson attracted his attention; he
arose to see to him, but in rising he hit his head sharply against the
icy roof; without paying any attention to that, he bent over Simpson
and began to rub his swollen, discolored legs; after doing this for a
quarter of an hour he started to rise, and bumped his head again,
although he was on his knees.
"That's odd," he said to himself.
He raised his hand above his head; the roof was perceptibly sinking.
"Great God!" he cried; "wake up, my friends!"
At his shouts Hatteras and Bell arose quickly, striking their heads
against the roof; they were in total darkness.
"We shall be crushed!" said the doctor; "let's get out!"
And all three, dragging Simpson after them, abandoned their dangerous
quarters; and it was high time, for the blocks of ice, ill put
together, fell with a loud crash.
[Illustration]
The poor men found themselves then without shelter against the
hurricane. Hatteras attempted to raise the tent, but it was
impossible, so severe was the wind, and they had to shelter themselves
beneath the canvas, which was soon covered with a thick layer of snow;
but this snow prevented the radiation of their warmth and kept them
from being frozen to death.
The storm lasted all night; Bell, when he was harnessing the
half-starved dogs, noticed that three of them had begun to eat the
leather straps; two were very sick and seemed unable to go on. Still,
they set out as well as they could; they had sixty miles between them
and the point they wished to reach.
On the 26th, Bell, who was ahead, shouted suddenly to his companions.
They ran towards him, and he pointed with astonishment to a gun
resting on a piece of ice.
[Illustration]
"A gun!" cried the doctor.
Hatteras took it; it was in good condition, and loaded.
"The men of the -Porpoise- can't be far off."
Hatteras, as he was examining the gun, noticed that it was of American
make; his hands clinched nervously its barrel.
"Forward!" he said calmly.
They continued to descend the mountains. Simpson seemed deprived of
all feeling; he had not even strength left to moan.
The tempest continued to rage; the sledge went on more and more
slowly; they made but a few miles in twenty-four hours, and, in spite
of the strictest economy, their supplies threatened to give out; but
so long as enough was left to carry them back, Hatteras pushed on.
On the 27th they found, partly buried beneath the snow, a sextant and
then a flask, which contained brandy, or rather a piece of ice, in the
middle of which all the spirit of the liquor had collected in the form
of snow; it was of no use.
Evidently, without meaning it, Hatteras was following in the wake of
some great disaster; he went on by the only possible route, collecting
the traces of some terrible shipwreck. The doctor kept a sharp lookout
for other cairns, but in vain.
Sad thoughts beset him: in fact, if he should discover these wretches,
of what service could he be to them? He and his companions were
beginning to lack everything; their clothing was torn, their supplies
were scanty. If the survivors were many, they would all starve to
death. Hatteras seemed inclined to flee from them! Was he not
justified, since the safety of the crew depended upon him? Ought he to
endanger the safety of all by bringing strangers on board?
But then strangers were men, perhaps their countrymen! Slight as was
their chance of safety, ought they to be deprived of it? The doctor
wanted to get Bell's opinion; but Bell refused to answer. His own
sufferings had hardened his heart. Clawbonny did not dare ask
Hatteras: so he sought aid from Providence.
Towards the evening of that day, Simpson appeared to be failing fast;
his cold, stiff limbs, his impeded breathing, which formed a mist
about his head, his convulsive movements, announced that his last hour
had come. His expression was terrible to behold; it was despairing,
with a look of impotent rage at the captain. It contained a whole
accusation, mute reproaches which were full of meaning, and perhaps
deserved.
Hatteras did not go near the dying man. He avoided him, more silent,
more shut into himself than ever!
The following night was a terrible one; the violence of the tempest
was doubled; three times the tent was thrown over, and snow was blown
over the suffering men, blinding them, and wounding them with the
pieces torn from the neighboring masses. The dogs barked incessantly.
Simpson was exposed to all the inclemency of the weather. Bell
succeeded in again raising the canvas, which, if it did not protect
them from the cold, at least kept off the snow. But a sudden squall
blew it down for the fourth time and carried it away with a fierce
blast.
"Ah, that is too much!" shouted Bell.
"Courage, courage!" answered the doctor, stooping down to escape being
blown away.
Simpson was gasping for breath. Suddenly, with a last effort, he half
rose, stretched his clinched fist at Hatteras, who was gazing steadily
at him, uttered a heart-rending cry, and fell back dead in the midst
of his unfinished threat.
[Illustration: "Suddenly, with a last effort, he half rose."]
"Dead!" said the doctor.
"Dead!" repeated Bell.
Hatteras, who was approaching the corpse, drew back before the
violence of the wind.
He was the first of the crew who succumbed to the murderous climate,
the first to offer up his life, after incalculable sufferings, to the
captain's persistent obstinacy. This man had considered him an
assassin, but Hatteras did not quail before the accusation. But a
tear, falling from his eyes, froze on his pale cheek.
The doctor and Bell looked at him in terror. Supported by his long
staff, he seemed like the genius of these regions, straight in the
midst of the fierce blast, and terrible in his stern severity.
He remained standing, without stirring, till the first rays of the
twilight appeared, bold and unconquerable, and seeming to defy the
tempest which was roaring about him.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE RETURN TO THE FORWARD.
Toward six o'clock in the morning the wind fell, and, shifting
suddenly to the north, it cleared the clouds from the sky; the
thermometer stood at -33°. The first rays of the twilight appeared on
the horizon above which it would soon peer.
Hatteras approached his two dejected companions and said to them,
sadly and gently,--
"My friends, we are more than sixty miles from the point mentioned by
Sir Edward Belcher. We have only just enough food left to take us back
to the ship. To go farther would only expose us to certain death,
without our being of service to any one. We must return."
"That is a wise decision, Hatteras," answered the doctor; "I should
have followed you anywhere, but we are all growing weaker every day;
we can hardly set one foot before the other; I approve of returning."
"Is that your opinion, Bell?" asked Hatteras.
"Yes, Captain," answered the carpenter.
"Well," continued Hatteras, "we will take two days for rest. That's
not too much. The sledge needs a great many repairs. I think, too, we
ought to build a snow-house in which we can repose."
This being decided, the three men set to work energetically. Bell took
the necessary precautions to insure the solidity of the building, and
soon a satisfactory retreat arose at the bottom of the ravine where
they had last halted.
[Illustration]
It was doubtless after a hard struggle that Hatteras had decided to
discontinue his journey. So much effort and fatigue thrown away! A
useless trip, entailing the death of one of his men! To return without
a scrap of coal: what would the crew say? What might it not do under
the lead of Shandon? But Hatteras could not continue the struggle any
longer.
He gave all his attention to their preparations for returning; the
sledge was repaired; its load, too, had become much lighter, and only
weighed two hundred pounds. They mended their worn-out, torn clothes,
all soaked through and through by the snow; new moccasins and
snow-shoes replaced those which were no longer serviceable. This kept
them busy the whole of the 29th and the morning of the 30th; then they
all sought what rest they could get, and prepared for what was before
them.
During the thirty-six hours spent in or near the snow-house, the
doctor had been noticing Duke, whose singular behavior did not seem to
him to be natural; the dog kept going in circles which seemed to have
a common centre; there was a sort of elevation in the soil, produced
by accumulated layers of ice; Duke, as he ran around this place, kept
barking gently and wagging his tail impatiently, looking at his master
as if asking something.
The doctor, after reflecting a moment, ascribed this uneasiness to the
presence of Simpson's corpse, which his companions had not yet had
time to bury. Hence he resolved to proceed to this sad ceremony on
that very day; the next morning they were to start. Bell and the
doctor, picks in hand, went to the bottom of the ravine; the elevation
which Duke had noticed offered a suitable place for the grave, which
would have to be dug deep to escape the bears.
The doctor and Bell began by removing the soft snow, then they
attacked the solid ice; at the third blow of his pick the doctor
struck against some hard body; he picked up the pieces and found them
the fragments of a glass bottle. Bell brought to light a stiffened
bag, in which were a few crumbs of fresh biscuit.
"What's this?" said the doctor.
"What can it be?" asked Bell, stopping his work.
The doctor called to Hatteras, who came at once.
Duke barked violently, and with his paws tried to tear up the ice.
"Have we by any possibility come across a supply of provisions?" said
the doctor.
"It looks like it," answered Bell.
"Go on!" said Hatteras.
A few bits of food were found and a box quarter full of pemmican.
"If we have," said Hatteras, "the bears have visited it before we did.
See, these provisions have been touched already."
"It is to be feared," answered the doctor, "for--"
He did not finish his sentence; a cry from Bell interrupted him; he
had turned over a tolerably large piece of ice and showed a stiff,
frozen human leg in the ice.
"A corpse!" cried the doctor.
"It's a grave," said Hatteras.
It was the body of a sailor about thirty years old, in a perfect state
of preservation; he wore the usual dress of Arctic sailors; the doctor
could not say how long he had been dead.
After this, Bell found another corpse, that of a man of fifty,
exhibiting traces of the sufferings that had killed him.
[Illustration]
"They were never buried," cried the doctor; "these poor men were
surprised by death as we find them."
"You are right, Doctor," said Bell.
"Go on, go on!" said Hatteras.
Bell hardly dared. Who could say how many corpses lay hidden here?
"They were the victims of just such an accident as we nearly perished
by," said the doctor; "their snow-house fell in. Let us see if one may
not be breathing yet!"
The place was rapidly cleared away, and Bell brought up a third body,
that of a man of forty; he looked less like a corpse than the others;
the doctor bent over him and thought he saw some signs of life.
"He's alive!" he shouted.
Bell and he carried this body into the snow-house, while Hatteras
stood in silence, gazing at the sunken dwelling.
[Illustration]
The doctor stripped the body; it bore no signs of injury; with Bell's
aid he rubbed it vigorously with tow dipped in alcohol, and he saw
life gradually reviving within it; but the man was in a state of
complete prostration, and unable to speak; his tongue clove to his
palate as if it were frozen.
The doctor examined his patient's pockets; they were empty. No paper.
He let Bell continue rubbing, and went out to Hatteras.
He found him in the ruined snow-house, clearing away the floor; soon
he came out, bearing a half-burned piece of an envelope. A few words
could be deciphered:--
....tamont
....-orpoise-
....w York.
"Altamont!" shouted the doctor, "of the -Porpoise-! of New York!"
"An American!" said Hatteras.
"I shall save him," said the doctor; "I'll answer for it, and we shall
find out the explanation of this puzzle."
He returned to Altamont, while Hatteras remained pensive. The doctor
succeeded in recalling the unfortunate man to life, but not to
consciousness; he neither saw, heard, nor spoke, but at any rate he
was alive!
The next morning Hatteras said to the doctor,--
"We must start."
"All right, Hatteras! The sledge is not loaded; we shall carry this
poor fellow back to the ship with us.
"Very well," said Hatteras. "But first let us bury these corpses."
The two unknown sailors were placed beneath the ruins of the
snow-house; Simpson's body took the place of Altamont's.
The three travellers uttered a short prayer over their companion, and
at seven o'clock in the morning they set off again for the ship.
Two of the dogs were dead. Duke volunteered to drag the sledge, and he
worked as resolutely as a Greenland dog.
For twenty days, from January 31st to February 19th, the return was
very much like the first part of the journey. Save that it was in the
month of February, the coldest of the whole year, and the ice was
harder; the travellers suffered terribly from the cold, but not from
the wind or snow-storm.
The sun reappeared for the first time January 31st; every day it rose
higher above the horizon. Bell and the doctor were at the end of their
strength, almost blind and quite lame; the carpenter could not walk
without crutches. Altamont was alive, but continued insensible;
sometimes his life was despaired of, but unremitting care kept him
alive! And yet the doctor needed to take the greatest care of himself,
for his health was beginning to suffer.
Hatteras thought of the -Forward-! In what condition was he going to
find it? What had happened on board? Had Johnson been able to
withstand Shandon and his allies? The cold had been terrible! Had they
burned the ship? Had they spared her masts and keel?
While thinking of this, Hatteras walked on as if he had wished to get
an early view of the -Forward-.
February 24th, in the morning, he stopped suddenly. Three hundred
paces before him appeared a reddish glow, above which rose an immense
column of black smoke, which was lost in the gray clouds of the sky.
"See that smoke!" he shouted.
His heart beat as if it would burst.
"See that smoke!" he said to his companions. "My ship is on fire!"
"But we are more than three miles from it," said Bell. "It can't be
the -Forward-!"
"Yes, but it is," answered the doctor; "the mirage makes it seem
nearer."
"Let us run!" cried Hatteras.
They left the sledge in charge of Duke, and hastened after the
captain. An hour later they came in sight of the ship. A terrible
sight! The brig was burning in the midst of the ice, which was melting
about her; the flames were lapping her hull, and the southerly breeze
brought to Hatteras's ears unaccustomed sounds.
Five hundred feet from the ship stood a man raising his hands in
despair; he stood there, powerless, facing the fire which was
destroying the -Forward-.
The man was alone; it was Johnson.
Hatteras ran towards him.
"My ship! my ship!" he cried.
"You! Captain!" answered Johnson; "you! stop! not a step farther!"
"Well?" asked Hatteras with a terrible air.
"The wretches!" answered Johnson, "they've been gone forty-eight
hours, after firing the ship!"
"Curse them!" groaned Hatteras.
Then a terrible explosion was heard; the earth trembled; the icebergs
fell; a column of smoke rose to the clouds, and the -Forward-
disappeared in an abyss of fire.
[Illustration: "Then a terrible explosion was heard."]
At that moment the doctor and Bell came up to Hatteras. He roused
himself suddenly from his despair.
"My friends," he said energetically, "the cowards have taken flight!
The brave will succeed! Johnson, Bell, you are bold; Doctor, you are
wise; as for me, I have faith! There is the North Pole! Come, to
work!"
Hatteras's companions felt their hearts glow at these brave words.
And yet the situation was terrible for these four men and the dying
man, abandoned without supplies, alone at the eighty-fourth degree of
latitude, in the very heart of the polar regions.
END OF PART I.
PART II.
THE DESERT OF ICE.
THE DESERT OF ICE.
CHAPTER I.
THE DOCTOR'S INVENTORY.
The design which Captain Hatteras had formed of exploring the North,
and of giving England the honor of discovering the Pole, was certainly
a bold one. This hardy sailor had just done all that human skill could
do. After struggling for nine months against contrary winds and seas,
after destroying icebergs and ice-fields, after enduring the severity
of an unprecedentedly cold winter, after going over all that his
predecessors had done, after carrying the -Forward- beyond the seas
which were already known, in short, after completing half his task, he
saw his grand plans completely overthrown. The treachery, or rather
the demoralization of his wearied crew, the criminal folly of some of
the ringleaders, left him in a terrible situation; of the eighteen men
who had sailed in the brig, four were left, abandoned without
supplies, without a boat, more than twenty-five hundred miles from
home!
The explosion of the -Forward-, which had just blown up before their
eyes, took from them their last means of subsistence. Still,
Hatteras's courage did not abandon him at this terrible crisis. The
men who were left were the best of the crew; they were genuine heroes.
He made an appeal to the energy and wisdom of Dr. Clawbonny, to the
devotion of Johnson and Bell, to his own faith in the enterprise; even
in these desperate straits he ventured to speak of hope; his brave
companions listened to him, and their courage in the past warranted
confidence in their promises for the future.
The doctor, after listening to the captain's words, wanted to get an
exact idea of their situation; and, leaving the others about five
hundred feet from the ship, he made his way to the scene of the
catastrophe.
Of the -Forward-, which had been built with so much care, nothing was
left; pieces of ice, shapeless fragments all blackened and charred,
twisted pieces of iron, ends of ropes still burning like fuse, and
scattered here and there on the ice-field, testified to the force of
the explosion. The cannon had been hurled to some distance, and was
lying on a piece of ice that looked like a gun-carriage. The surface
of the ice, for a circle of six hundred feet in diameter, was covered
with fragments of all sorts; the brig's keel lay under a mass of ice;
the icebergs, which had been partly melted by the fire, had already
recovered their rock-like hardness.
The doctor then began to think of his ruined cabin, of his lost
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