Hatteras was gone. Feeling uneasy at his absence, they hurried out
of the grotto in search of him.
[Illustration: There he was standing on a rock, gazing fixedly at
the top of the mountain.--P.242]
There he was standing on a rock, gazing fixedly at the top of the
mountain. His instruments were in his hand, and he was evidently
calculating the exact longitude and latitude.
The Doctor went towards him and spoke, but it was long before he
could rouse him from his absorbing contemplations. At last the
captain seemed to understand, and Clawbonny said, while he examined
him with a keen scrutinizing glance--
"Let us go round the island. Here we are, all ready for our last
excursion."
"The last!" repeated Hatteras, as if in a dream. "Yes!, the
last truly, but," he added, with more animation, "the most
wonderful."
He pressed both hands on his brow as he spoke, as if to calm the
inward tumult.
Just then Altamont and the others came up, and their appearance
seemed to dispel the hallucinations under which he was labouring.
"My friends," he said, in a voice full of emotion, "thanks for
your courage, thanks for your perseverance, thanks for your
superhuman efforts, through which we are permitted to set our feet
on this soil."
"Captain," said Johnson, "we have only obeyed orders to you
alone belongs the honour."
"No, no!" exclaimed Hatteras, with a violent outburst of
emotion, "to all of you as much as to me! To Altamont as much as
any of us, as much as the Doctor himself! Oh, let my heart break in
your hands, it cannot contain its joy and gratitude any longer."
He grasped the hands of his brave companions as he spoke, and paced
up and down as if he had lost all self-control.
"We have only done our duty as Englishmen," said Bell.
"And as friends," added Clawbonny.
"Yes, but all did not do it," replied Hatteras "some gave way.
However, we must pardon them--pardon both the traitors and those
who were led away by them. Poor fellows! I forgive them. You hear
me, Doctor?"
"Yes," replied Clawbonny, beginning to be seriously uneasy at
his friend's excitement.
"I have no wish, therefore," continued the captain, "that they
should lose the little fortune they came so far to seek. No, the
original agreement is to remain unaltered, and they shall be
rich--if they ever see England again."
It would have been difficult not to have been touched by the
pathetic tone of voice in which Hatteras said this.
"But, captain," interrupted Johnson, trying to joke, "one
would think you were making your will!"
"Perhaps I am," said Hatteras, gravely.
"And yet you have a long bright career of glory before you!"
"Who knows?" was the reply.
No one answered, and the Doctor did not dare to guess his meaning;
but Hatteras soon made them understand it, for presently he said, in
a hurried, agitated manner, as if he could scarcely command
himself--
"Friends, listen to me. We have done much already, but much yet
remains to be done."
His companions heard him with profound astonishment.
"Yes," he resumed, "we are close to the Pole, but we are not
on it."
"How do you make that out," said Altamont.
"Yes," replied Hatteras, with vehemence, "I said an Englishman
should plant his foot on the Pole of the world! I said it, and an
Englishman shall."
"What!" cried Clawbonny.
"We are still 45" from the unknown point," resumed Hatteras,
with increasing animation, "and to that point I shall go."
"But it is on the summit of the volcano," said the Doctor.
"I shall go."
"It is an inaccessible cone!"
"I shall go."
"But it is a yawning fiery crater!"
"I shall go."
The tone of absolute determination in which Hatteras pronounced
these words it is impossible to describe.
His friends were stupefied, and gazed in terror at the blazing
mountain.
At last the Doctor recovered himself, and began to urge and entreat
Hatteras to renounce his project. He tried every means his heart
dictated, from humble supplications to friendly threats; but he
could gain nothing--a sort of frenzy had come over the captain, an
absolute monomania about the Pole.
Nothing but violent measures would keep him back from destruction,
but the Doctor was unwilling to employ these unless driven to
extremity.
He trusted, moreover, that physical impossibilities, insuperable
obstacles would bar his further progress, and meantime finding all
protestations were useless, he simply said--
"Very well, since you are bent on it, we'll go too."
"Yes," replied Hatteras, "half-way up the mountain, but not a
step beyond. You know you have to carry back to England the
duplicate of the document in the cairn----"
"Yes; but----"
"It is settled," said Hatteras, in an imperious tone; "and
since the prayers of a friend will not suffice, the captain
commands."
The Doctor did not insist longer, and a few minutes after the little
band set out, accompanied by Duk.
It was about eight o'clock when they commenced their difficult
ascent; the sky was splendid, and the thermometer stood at 52°.
Hatteras and his dog went first, closely followed by the others.
"I am afraid," said Johnson to the Doctor.
"No, no, there's nothing to be afraid of; we are here."
This singular little island appeared to be of recent formation, and
was evidently the product of successive volcanic eruptions. The
rocks were all lying loose on the top of each other, and it was a
marvel how they preserved their equilibrium. Strictly speaking, the
mountain was only a heap of stones thrown down from a height, and
the mass of rocks which composed the island had evidently come out
of the bowels of the earth.
The earth, indeed, may be compared to a vast cauldron of spherical
form, in which, under the influence of a central fire, immense
quantities of vapours are generated, which would explode the globe
but for the safety-valves outside.
These safety-valves are volcanoes, when one closes another opens;
and at the Poles where the crust of the earth is thinner, owing to
its being flattened, it is not surprising that a volcano should be
suddenly formed by the upheaving of some part of the ocean-bed.
The Doctor, while following Hatteras, was closely following all the
peculiarities of the island, and he was further confirmed in his
opinion as to its recent formation by the absence of water. Had it
existed for centuries, the thermal springs would have flowed from
its bosom.
As they got higher, the ascent became more and more difficult, for
the flanks of the mountain were almost perpendicular, and it
required the utmost care to keep them from falling. Clouds of
scoriæ and ashes would whirl round them repeatedly, threatening
them with asphyxia, or torrents of lava would bar their passage. In
parts where these torrents ran horizontally, the outside had become
hardened; while underneath was the boiling lava, and every step the
travellers took had first to be tested with the iron-tipped staff to
avoid being suddenly plunged into the scalding liquid.
At intervals large fragments of red-hot rock were thrown up from the
crater, and burst in the air like bomb-shells, scattering the debris
to enormous distances in all directions.
Hatteras, however, climbed up the steepest ascents with surprising
agility, disdaining the help of his staff.
He arrived before long at a circular rock, a sort of plateau about
ten feet wide. A river of boiling lava surrounded it, except in one
part, where it forked away to a higher rock, leaving a narrow
passage, through which Hatteras fearlessly passed.
Here he stopped, and his companions managed to rejoin him. He seemed
to be measuring with his eye the distance he had yet to get over.
Horizontally, he was not more than two hundred yards from the top of
the crater, but vertically he had nearly three times that distance
to traverse.
The ascent had occupied three hours already. Hatteras showed no
signs of fatigue, while the others were almost spent.
The summit of the volcano appeared inaccessible, and the Doctor
determined at any price to prevent Hatteras from attempting to
proceed. He tried gentle means first, but the captain's excitement
was fast becoming delirium. During their ascent, symptoms of
insanity had become more and more marked, and no one could be
surprised who knew anything of his previous history.
"Hatteras," said the Doctor, "it is enough! we cannot go
further!"
"Stop, then," he replied, in a strangely altered voice; "I am
going higher."
"No, it is useless; you are at the Pole already."
"No, no! higher, higher!"
"My friend, do you know who is speaking to you? It is I, Doctor
Clawbonny."
"Higher, higher!" repeated the madman.
"Very well, we shall not allow it--that is all."
He had hardly uttered the words before Hatteras, by a superhuman
effort, sprang over the boiling lava, and was beyond the reach of
his companions.
A cry of horror burst from every lip, for they thought the poor
captain must have perished in that fiery gulf; but there he was safe
on the other side, accompanied by his faithful Duk, who would not
leave him.
He speedily disappeared behind a curtain of smoke, and they heard
his voice growing fainter in the distance, shouting--
"To the north! to the north! to the top of Mount Hatteras!
Remember Mount Hatteras!"
All pursuit of him was out of the question; it was impossible to
leap across the fiery torrent, and equally impossible to get round
it. Altamont, indeed, was mad enough to make an attempt, and would
certainly have lost his life if the others had not held him back by
main force.
"Hatteras! Hatteras!" shouted the Doctor, but no response was
heard save the faint bark of Duk.
At intervals, however, a glimpse of him could be caught through the
clouds of smoke and showers of ashes. Sometimes his head, sometimes
his arm appeared; then he was out of sight again, and a few minutes
later was seen higher up clinging to the rocks. His size constantly
decreased with the fantastic rapidity of objects rising upwards in
the air. In half-an-hour he was only half his size.
The air was full of the deep rumbling noise of the volcano, and the
mountain shook and trembled. From time to time a loud fail was heard
behind, and the travellers would see some enormous rock rebounding
from the heights to engulph itself in the polar basin below.
[Illustration: Hatteras did not even turn once to look back, but
marched straight on, carrying his country's flag attached to his
staff.--P.249]
Hatteras did not even turn once to look back, but marched straight
on, carrying his country's flag attached to his staff. His
terrified friends watched every movement, and saw him gradually
decrease to microscopic dimensions, while Duk looked no larger than
a big rat.
Then came a moment of intense anxiety, for the wind beat down on
them an immense sheet of flame, and they could see nothing but the
red glare. A cry of agony escaped the Doctor; but an instant
afterwards Hatteras reappeared, waving his flag.
For a whole hour this fearful spectacle went on--an hour of battle
with unsteady loose rocks and quagmires of ashes, where the
foolhardy climber sank up to his waist. Sometimes they saw him hoist
himself up by leaning knees and loins against the rocks in narrow,
intricate winding paths, and sometimes he would be hanging on by
both hands to some sharp crag, swinging to and fro like a withered
tuft.
[Illustration: ]
At last he reached the summit of the mountain, the mouth of the
crater. Here the Doctor hoped the infatuated man would stop, at any
rate, and would, perhaps, recover his senses, and expose himself to
no more danger than the descent involved.
Once more he shouted--
"Hatteras! Hatteras!"
There was such a pathos of entreaty in his tone that Altamont felt
moved to his inmost soul.
"I'll save him yet!" he exclaimed; and before Clawbonny could
hinder him, he had cleared with a bound the torrent of fire, and was
out of sight among the rocks.
Meantime, Hatteras had mounted a rock which overhung the crater, and
stood waving his flag amidst showers of stones which rained down on
him. Duk was by his side; but the poor beast was growing dizzy in
such close proximity to the abyss.
Hatteras balanced his staff in one hand, and with the other sought
to find the precise mathematical point where all the meridians of
the globe meet, the point on which it was his sublime purpose to
plant his foot.
All at once the rock gave way, and he disappeared. A cry of horror
broke from his companions, and rang to the top of the mountain.
Clawbonny thought his friend had perished, and lay buried for ever
in the depths of the volcano. A second--only a second, though it
seemed an age--elapsed, and there was Altamont and the dog holding
the ill-fated Hatteras! Man and dog had caught him at the very
moment when he disappeared in the abyss.
Hatteras was saved! Saved in spite of himself; and half-an-hour
later be lay unconscious in the arms of his despairing companions.
When he came to himself, the Doctor looked at him in speechless
anguish, for there was no glance of recognition in his eye. It was
the eye of a blind man, who gazes without seeing.
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Johnson; "he is blind!"
"No," replied Clawbonny, "no! My poor friends, we have only
saved the body of Hatteras; his soul is left behind on the top of
the volcano. His reason is gone!"
"Insane!" exclaimed Johnson and Altamont, in consternation.
"Insane!" replied the Doctor, and the big tears ran down his
cheeks.
CHAPTER XXV.
RETURN SOUTH.
Three hours after this sad dénouement of the adventures of Captain
Hatteras, the whole party were back once more in the grotto.
Clawbonny was asked his opinion as to what was best to be done.
"Well, friends," he said, "we cannot stay longer in this
island; the sea is open, and we have enough provisions. We ought to
start at once, and get back without the least delay to Fort
Providence, where we must winter."
"That is my opinion, too," said Altamont. "The wind is
favourable, so to-morrow we will get to sea."
The day passed in profound dejection. The insanity of the captain
was a bad omen and when they began to talk over the return voyage,
their hearts failed them for fear. They missed the intrepid spirit
of their leader.
However, like brave men, they prepared to battle anew with the
elements and with themselves, if ever they felt inclined to give way.
[Illustration: ]
Next morning they made all ready to sail, and brought the tent and
all its belongings on board.
But before leaving these rocks, never to return, the Doctor carrying
out the intentions of Hatteras, had a cairn erected on the very spot
where the poor fellow had jumped ashore. It was made of great blocks
placed one on the top of the other, so as to be a landmark perfectly
visible while the eruptions of the volcano left it undisturbed. On
one of the side stones, Bell chiselled the simple inscription--
JOHN HATTERAS.
The duplicate of the document attesting the discovery of the North
Pole was enclosed in a tinned iron cylinder, and deposited in the
cairn, to remain as a silent witness among those desert rocks.
This done, the four men and the captain, a poor body without a soul,
set out on the return voyage, accompanied by the faithful Duk, who
had become sad and downcast. A new sail was manufactured out of the
tent, and about ten o'clock, the little sloop sailed out before
the wind.
She made a quick passage, finding abundance of open water. It was
certainly easier to get away from the Pole than to get to it.
But Hatteras knew nothing that was passing around him. He lay full
length in the boat, perfectly silent, with lifeless eye and folded
arms, and Duk lying at his feet. Clawbonny frequently addressed him,
but could elicit no reply.
On the 15th they sighted Altamont Harbour, but as the sea was open
all along the coast, they determined to go round to Victoria Bay by
water, instead of crossing New America in the sledge.
The voyage was easy and rapid. In a week they accomplished what had
taken a fortnight in the sledge, and on the 23rd they cast anchor in
Victoria Bay.
As soon as the sloop was made fast, they all hastened to Fort
Providence. But what a scene of devastation met their eyes!
Doctor's House, stores, powder-magazine, fortifications, all had
melted away, and the provisions had been ransacked by devouring
animals.
The navigators had almost come to the end of their supplies, and had
been reckoning on replenishing their stores at Fort Providence. The
impossibility of wintering there now was evident, and they decided
to get to Baffin's Bay by the shortest route.
"We have no alternative," said Clawbonny; "Baffin's Bay is
not more than six hundred miles distant. We can sail as long as
there is water enough under our sloop, and get to Jones' Sound,
and then on to the Danish settlements."
"Yes," said Altamont; "let us collect what food remains, and
be off at once."
After a thorough search, a few cases of pemmican were found
scattered here and there, and two barrels of preserved meat,
altogether enough for six weeks, and a good supply of powder. It was
soon collected and brought on board, and the remainder of the day
was employed in caulking the sloop and putting her in good trim.
Next morning they put out once more to sea. The voyage presented no
great difficulties, the drift-ice being easily avoided; but still
the Doctor thought it advisable, in case of possible delays, to
limit the rations to one-half. This was no great hardship, as there
was not much work for anyone to do, and all were in perfect health.
Besides, they found a little shooting, and brought down ducks, and
geese, and guillemots, or sea turtledoves. Water they were able to
supply themselves with in abundance, from the fresh-water icebergs
they constantly fell in with as they kept near the coast, not daring
to venture out to the open sea in so frail a barque.
At that time of the year, the thermometer was already constantly
below freezing point. The frequent rains changed to snow, and the
weather became gloomy. Each day the sun dipped lower below the
horizon, and on the 30th, for a few minutes, he was out of sight
altogether.
However, the little sloop sailed steadily on without stopping an
instant. They knew what fatigues and obstacles a land journey
involved, if they should be forced to adopt it, and no time was to
be lost, for soon the open water would harden to firm ground;
already the young ice had begun to form. In these high latitudes
there is neither spring nor autumn; winter follows close on the
heels of summer.
On the 31st the first stars glimmered overhead, and from that time
forwards there was continual fog, which considerably impeded
navigation.
The Doctor became very uneasy at these multiplied indications of
approaching winter. He knew the difficulties Sir John Ross had to
contend with after he left his ship to try and reach Baffin's Bay,
and how, after all, he was compelled to return and pass a fourth
winter on board. It was bad enough with shelter and food and fuel,
but if any such calamity befell the survivors of the Forward, if
they were obliged to stop or return, they were lost.
[Illustration: ]
The Doctor said nothing of his anxieties to his companions, but only
urged them to get as far east as possible.
At last, after thirty days' tolerably quick sailing, and after
battling for forty-eight hours against the increasing drift ice, and
risking the frail sloop a hundred times, the navigators saw
themselves blocked in on all sides. Further progress was impossible,
for the sea was frozen in every direction, and the thermometer was
only 15° above zero.
Altamont made a reckoning with scrupulous precision, and found they
were in 77°15' latitude, and 85° 2' longitude.
"This is our exact position then," said the Doctor. "We are in
South Lincoln, just at Cape Eden, and are entering Jones' Sound.
With a little more good luck, we should have found open water right
to Baffin's Bay. But we must not grumble. If my poor Hatteras had
found as navigable a sea at first, he would have soon reached the
Pole. His men would not have deserted him, and his brain would not
have given way under the pressure of terrible trial."
"I suppose, then," said Altamont, "our only course is to leave
the sloop, and get by sledge to the east coast of Lincoln."
"Yes; but I think we should go through Jones' Sound, and get to
South Devon instead of crossing Lincoln."
"Why?"
"Because the nearer we get to Lancaster Sound, the more chance we
have of meeting whalers."
"You are right; but I question whether the ice is firm enough to
make it practicable."
"We'll try," replied Clawbonny.
The little vessel was unloaded, and the sledge put together again.
All the parts were in good condition, so the next day the dogs were
harnessed, and they started off along the coast to reach the
ice-field; but Altamont's opinion proved right. They could not get
through Jones' Sound, and were obliged to follow the coast to
Lincoln.
At last, on the 24th, they set foot on North Devon.
"Now," said Clawbonny, "we have only to cross this, and get to
Cape Warender at the entrance to Lancaster Sound."
But the weather became frightful, and very cold. The snow-storms and
tempests returned with winter violence, and the travellers felt too
weak to contend with them. Their stock of provisions was almost
exhausted, and rations had to be reduced now to a third, that the
dogs might have food enough to keep them in working condition.
The nature of the ground added greatly to the fatigue. North Devon
is extremely wild and rugged, and the path across the Trauter
mountains is through difficult gorges. The whole party--men, and
dogs, and sledge alike--were frequently forced to stop, for they
could not struggle on against the fury of the elements. More than
once despair crept over the brave little band, hardy as they were,
and used to Polar sufferings. Though scarcely aware of it
themselves, they were completely worn out, physically and mentally.
It was not till the 30th of August that they emerged from these wild
mountains into a plain, which seemed to have been upturned and
convulsed by volcanic action at some distant period.
Here it was absolutely necessary to take a few days' rest, for the
travellers could not drag one foot after the other, and two of the
dogs had died from exhaustion. None of the party felt equal to put
up the tent, so they took shelter behind an iceberg.
Provisions were now so reduced, that, notwithstanding their scanty
rations, there was only enough left for one week. Starvation stared
the poor fellows in the face.
[Illustration: "Dead, frozen----"--P.262]
Altamont, who had displayed great unselfishness and devotion to the
others, roused his sinking energies, and determined to go out and
find food for his comrades.
He took his gun, called Duk, and went off almost unnoticed by the
rest.
He had been absent about an hour, and only once during that time had
they heard the report of his gun; and now he was coming back
empty-handed, but running as if terrified.
"What is the matter?" asked the Doctor.
"Down there, under the snow!" said Altamont, speaking as if
scared, and pointing in a particular direction.
"What?"
"A whole party of men!"
"Alive?"
"Dead--frozen--and even--"
He did not finish the sentence, but a look of unspeakable horror
came over his face.
The Doctor and the others were so roused by this incident, that they
managed to get up and drag themselves after Altamont towards the
place he indicated.
They soon arrived, at a narrow part at the bottom of a ravine, and
what a spectacle met their gaze! Dead bodies, already stiff, lay
half-buried in a winding-sheet of snow. A leg visible here, an arm
there, and yonder shrunken hands and rigid faces, stamped with the
expression of rage and despair.
The Doctor stooped down to look at them more closely, but instantly
started back pale and agitated, while Duk barked ominously.
"Horrible, horrible!" he said.
"What is it?" asked Johnson.
"Don't you recognize them?"
"What do you mean?"
"Look and see!"
It was evident this ravine had been but recently the scene of a
fearful straggle with cold, and despair, and starvation, for by
certain horrible remains it was manifest that the poor wretches had
been feeding on human flesh, perhaps while still warm and
palpitating; and among them the Doctor recognized Shandon, Pen, and
the ill-fated crew of the Forward! Their strength had failed;
provisions had come to an end; their boat had been broken, perhaps
by an avalanche or engulphed in some abyss, and they could not take
advantage of the open sea; or perhaps they had lost their way in
wandering over these unknown continents. Moreover, men who set out
under the excitement of a revolt were not likely to remain long
united. The leader of a rebellion has but a doubtful power, and no
doubt Shandon's authority had been soon cast off.
Be that as it might, it was evident the crew had come through
agonies of suffering and despair before this last terrible
catastrophe, but the secret of their miseries is buried with them
beneath the polar snows.
"Come away! come away!" said the Doctor, dragging his companions
from the scene. Horror gave them momentary strength, and they
resumed their march without stopping a minute longer.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CONCLUSION.
It would be useless to enumerate all the misfortunes which befell
the survivors of the expedition. Even the men themselves were never
able to give any detailed narrative of the events which occurred
during the week subsequent to the horrible discovery related in the
last chapter. However, on the 9th of September, by superhuman
exertions, they arrived at last at Cape Horsburg, the extreme point
of North Devon.
They were absolutely starving. For forty-eight hours they had tasted
nothing, and their last meal had been off the flesh of their last
Esquimaux dog. Bell could go no further, and Johnson felt himself
dying.
They were on the shore of Baffin's Bay, now half-frozen over; that
is to say, on the road to Europe, and three miles off the waves were
dashing noiselessly on the sharp edges of the ice-field.
Here they must wait their chance of a whaler appearing; and for how
long?
But Heaven pitied the poor fellows, for the very next day Altamont
distinctly perceived a sail on the horizon. Every one knows the
torturing suspense that follows such an appearance, and the
agonizing dread lest it should prove a false hope. The vessel seems
alternately to approach and recede, and too often just at the very
moment when the poor castaways think they are saved, the sail begins
to disappear, and is soon out of sight.
[Illustration: Two hours later, after unheard-of exertions, the
survivors of the Forward were picked up by the Hans
Christian.--P.266]
The Doctor and his companions went through all these experiences.
They had succeeded in reaching the western boundary of the ice-field
by carrying and pushing each other along, and they watched the ship
gradually fade away from view without observing them, in spite of
their loud cries for help.
Just then a happy inspiration came to the Doctor. His fertile
genius, which had served him many a time in such good stead,
supplied him with one last idea!
A floe driven by the current struck against the icefield, and
Clawbonny exclaimed, pointing to it--
"This floe!"
His companions could not understand what he meant.
"Let us embark on it! let us embark on it!"
"Oh! Mr. Clawbonny, Mr. Clawbonny," said Johnson, pressing his
hand.
Bell, assisted by Altamont, hurried to the sledge, and brought back
one of the poles, which he stuck fast on the ice like a mast, and
fastened it with ropes. The tent was torn up to furnish a sail, and
as soon as the frail raft was ready the poor fellows jumped upon it,
and sailed out to the open sea.
Two hours later, after unheard-of exertions, the survivors of the
Forward were picked up by the Hans Christian, a Danish whaler, on
her way to Davis' Straits. They were more like spectres than human
beings, and the sight of their sufferings was enough. It told its
own tale; but the captain received them with such hearty sympathy,
and lavished on them such care and kindness, that he succeeded in
keeping them alive.
Ten days afterwards, Clawbonny, Johnson, Bell, Altamont, and Captain
Hatteras landed at Korsam, in Zealand, an island belonging to
Denmark. They took the steamer to Kiel, and from there proceeded by
Altona and Hamburg to London, where they arrived on the 13th of the
same month, scarcely recovered after their long sufferings.
The first care of Clawbonny was to request the Royal Geographical
Society to receive a communication from him. He was accordingly
admitted to the next
[Illustration: --P.267]
séance, and one can imagine the astonishment of the learned
assembly and the enthusiastic applause produced by the reading of
Hatteras' document.
The English have a passion for geographical discovery, from the lord
to the cockney, from the merchant down to the dock labourer, and the
news of this grand discovery speedily flashed along the telegraph
wires, throughout the length and breadth of the kingdom. Hatteras
was lauded as a martyr by all the newspapers, and every Englishman
felt proud of him.
The Doctor and his companions had the honour of being presented to
the Queen by the Lord Chancellor, and they were feted and
"lionized" in all quarters.
The Government confirmed the names of "Queen's Island,"
"Mount Hatteras," and "Altamont Harbour."
Altamont would not part from his companions in misery and glory, but
followed them to Liverpool, where they were joyously welcomed back,
after being so long supposed dead and buried beneath the eternal
snows.
But Dr. Clawbonny would never allow that any honour was due to
himself. He claimed all the merit of the discovery for his
unfortunate captain, and in the narrative of his voyage, published
the next year under the auspices of the Royal Geographical Society,
he places John Hatteras on a level with the most illustrious
navigators, and makes him the compeer of all the brave, daring men
who have sacrificed themselves for the progress of science.
The insanity of this poor victim of a sublime passion was of a mild
type, and he lived quietly at Sten Cottage, a private asylum near
Liverpool, where the Doctor himself had placed him. He never spoke,
and understood nothing that was said to him; reason and speech had
fled together. The only tie that connected him with the outside
world was his friendship for Duk, who was allowed to remain with him.
For a considerable time the captain had been in the habit of walking
in the garden for hours, accompanied by his faithful dog, who
watched him with sad, wistful eyes, but his promenade was always in
one direction in a particular part of the garden. When he got to the
end of this path, he would stop and begin to walk backwards. If
anyone stopped him he would point with his finger towards a certain
part of the sky, but let anyone attempt to turn him round, and he
became angry, while Duk, as if sharing his master's sentiments,
would bark furiously.
The Doctor, who often visited his afflicted friend, noticed this
strange proceeding one day, and soon understood the reason of it. He
saw how it was that he paced so constantly in a given direction, as
if under the influence of some magnetic force.
This was the secret: John Hatteras invariably walked towards the
North.
The End.
End of the Voyage Extraordinaire
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