II.
FORTY years ago last May, England fitted Sir John out with two fine ships. They were the Erebus and Terror.
Away they sailed from the wharf where many came to see them off, among them Lady Franklin, Sir John's wife.
Away they pushed through the sea toward the North. On they went, further and further from their home, to see if they could find the North Pole or what was called the "Northwest Passage."
Soon they met icebergs, or great mountain castles, moving down from the north. But the Erebus and Terror turned aside and sailed north, north, north, hundreds of miles.
Then the winter came on. The two ships were soon hedged in by the ice. They could neither go forward nor backward. The ice became thicker and thicker; the nights longer and colder. The men were clothed in fur, and there were stoves in the ships, but they shivered with the cold. No word came to them from their friends. They, however, tried to be cheerful, hoping for spring and the breaking up of the ice so they could sail out of their prison and find the Northwest Passage.
They sang, told stories, read, celebrated each other's birthday; good Sir John read sermons and prayers to his men as was his custom and exhorted them to be of good cheer. It was a joyful thought to them of making wonderful discoveries in that strange land and then coming back some day with the news.
John Franklin
But the spring came and went, another and another, but no tidings of Sir John. Then there was alarm. Meetings were called, speeches made, great sums of money raised; brave captains and crews offered to go in search of him. Vessel after vessel went and came, only to report failure.
Five years passed; seven; nine; ten—Hope was dying—eleven. Lady Franklin did not give up, but fitted out, at her own expense, a little ship.
Captain and sailors bid good-by to wives and friends, not knowing they would ever see them again, as they resolved not to come back till they found out something as to the fate of Sir John.
So this little ship disappeared far away northward, and, like the others, in a few weeks, was in the midst of majestic palaces of ice.
But it worked its way on, when, lo! one day as the captain was hunting here and there, he came upon parts of a ship, and he knew it was Sir John's. He also found Sir John's own handwriting and many other things that told of great sufferings and death.
It appeared that he had died June 11th, 1847; but he was not found till 1857. All had perished.
He was a noble Christian man, with a heart tender as a woman's.
When the little ship came back with the news, England mourned as did this nation over the fate of Sir John Franklin.
C. M. L.
