The Arctic regions and the northern whale-fishery

by William Scoresby

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Now sir John Ross and sir Edward Parry.

[CHAPTER IV.]

OBSERVATIONS ON THE ATMOSPHEROLOGY OF THE ARCTIC REGIONS, PARTICULARLY RELATING TO SPITZBERGEN AND THE ADJACENT GREENLAND SEA.

In treating of the subject of this chapter, our remarks shall, in the first instance, relate to the climate of the Arctic Regions and the general effects of cold. In the autumn and spring seasons, the climate of Spitzbergen and its adjacent sea is variable and tempestuous. The temperature passes through its extreme range, which, probably, exceeds fifty degrees in the same season, or even in the same month, with a rapidity unknown in countries situate within the temperate zones. North, west, and east winds bring with them the extreme cold of the icy regions immediately surrounding the Pole, whilst a shift of wind to the south-west, south, or south-east, elevates the temperature towards that of the neighbouring seas.

An arctic winter consists of the accumulation of almost everything among atmospheric phenomena that is disagreeable to the feelings, together with the privation of those bounties of Heaven with which other parts of the earth, in happier climates, are so plentifully supplied. During the whole of the winter months, the cheering rays of the sun are neither seen nor felt, and there are occasional storms of wind and snow.

The most severe cold, says Crantz, that occurs in Greenland, sets in, as in temperate climates, “after the new year; and is so piercing in February and March, that the stones split in twain, and the sea reeks like an oven.” On the return of the sun, the months of May, June, and August, are even occasionally pleasant; but with July, and partially with June and August, the densest fogs prevail, which are more depressing to the spirits than even intense cold.

The temperature of the atmosphere, when the fogs prevail, is generally near the freezing point, and is not above three or four degrees higher at midday than at midnight, and sometimes does not vary above a degree or two for several days together. But, in the spring and winter seasons, the temperature is subject to very great and rapid alterations, which are frequently simultaneous with the greatest changes of pressure. This renders the thermometer a valuable appendage in the prognostication of the weather.

The great depression of temperature which takes place in the proximity of ice with a northerly wind, appears equally as considerable to the feelings in low as in high latitudes. As great a degree of cold as ever I noticed in a series of twelve years’ observations (once excepted) was in latitude 71¼°, April 12, 1814, when the mean of three thermometers indicated zero; and, on the same occasion, during an interval of three days, the mean temperature was less than 5°. The wind in the mean time was continually blowing from the north-eastward, generally blowing a gale, but sometimes moderate. On the 25th of April, 1813, in latitude 8°, the thermometer fell to 4°, during a hard gale from the north-east, but on account of the ship being driven away from the ice it soon rose to 10° or 15°. The effect of the ice in reducing the temperature is so considerable, that our proximity to it is often announced by the coldness before it can be seen. In this manner, the difference of a few leagues in position sometimes produces a surprising increase of cold.

The Greenland sailors, being well defended from external cold by a choice selection of warm clothing, generally support the lowest temperature, after a few days’ habitude, without much inconvenience. When, however, its attacks are not gradual, as when a ship, which has attained the edge of the ice, under a southerly gale, is exposed suddenly to a northerly breeze, the change of temperature is so great and rapid, that the most hardy cannot conceal their uneasiness under its first impression. On one occasion, in the year 1814, there was between the time of my leaving the deck at night and arising the following morning an increase in the cold of about 20°. This remarkable change was attended with singular effects. The circulation of the blood was accelerated, a sense of parched dryness was excited in the nose; the mouth, or rather lips, were contracted in all their dimensions, as by a sphincter, and the articulation of many words was rendered difficult and imperfect; indeed, every part of the body was more or less stimulated or disordered by the severity of the cold. The hands, if exposed, would have been frozen in a few minutes, and even the face could not have resisted the effects of a brisk wind, continued for any length of time. A piece of metal, when applied to the tongue, instantly adhered to it, and could not be removed without its retaining a portion of the skin; iron became brittle, and such as was at all of inferior quality might be fractured by a blow; brandy, of English manufacture and wholesale strength, was frozen; quicksilver, by a single process, might have been consolidated; the sea, in some places, was in the act of freezing, and, in others, appeared to smoke, and produced, in the formation of frost-rime, an obscurity greater than that of the thickest fog.

The subtle principle of magnetism seemed to be, in some way or other, influenced by the frost, for the deck compasses became sluggish, or even motionless, while a cabin compass traversed with celerity. The ship became enveloped in ice; the bows, sides, and lower rigging, were loaded; and the rudder, if not repeatedly freed, would, in a short time, have been rendered immovable. A considerable swell at this time prevailing, the smoke in the cabin, with the doors closed, was so intolerable, that we were under the necessity of giving free admission to the external air to prevent it. The consequence was, that, in front of a brisk fire, at the distance of a yard and a half from it, the temperature was 25°; water spilt on the table froze, and, indeed, congelation took place in one situation at the distance of only two feet from the stove. Hoar-frost, also, appeared in the sailors’ bed-cabins, arising from their breath, and was deposited upon their blankets.

Under such a temperature, the whale-fishery could not be prosecuted, for nature could not sustain continued exposure to the pungent force of the wind. With a calm atmosphere, however, the sensible effects of cold are singularly diminished; the cold of zero then becomes equally supportable with the temperature of 10, 15, or even 20 degrees, when impressed by a brisk wind; hence, the sensations produced on the body become a very equivocal criterion for estimating the degree of cold.

The effect of cold in preventing the traversing of compasses, exposed to its influence, has been noticed by some navigators. As a remedy against this inconvenience, Ellis, in his voyage to Hudson’s Bay, suggests the propriety of removing the compasses into a warm place, by which the needles speedily resume their activity. I have found, by experiments, that neither the attractive nor directive power of the magnet suffers diminution by an increase of cold. There appears, however, to be an increase of friction, or the introduction of some unknown principle, which, when the degree of cold is very much increased, occasions a diminution in the mobility of magnetic needles.

Many remarkable effects of cold are related in the journals of Polar navigators. Captain James, when wintering in Hudson’s Bay, latitude 52° north, experienced such cold, that, on the 10th December, many of the sailors had their noses, cheeks, and fingers, frozen as white as paper. Ellis, who wintered in the same region, latitude 57° 30′, found, by the 3rd of November, bottled beer, though wrapped in tow, and placed near a good, constant fire, frozen solid. Many of the sailors had their faces, ears, and toes frozen; iron adhered to their fingers; glasses used in drinking stuck to the mouth, and sometimes removed the skin from the lips or tongue; and a sailor, who inadvertently used his finger for stopping a spirit-bottle in place of a cork, while removing it from the house to his tent, had his finger fast frozen in the bottle, in consequence of which a part of it was obliged to be taken off to prevent mortification.

A Hamburgh whaler, beset by the ice, near Spitzbergen, in the year 1769, was exposed to great danger. The effect of the frost was such, that the seams in the ship’s sides cracked with a noise resembling the report of a pistol. These openings at first rendered the vessel very leaky, but after she got free from the ice, and into a milder climate, they again closed.

In the interesting narrative, by Pelham, of the preservation of eight seamen, who were accidentally left in Spitzbergen, in the year 1630, and wintered there, are some remarks on the effects of cold. The sea of the bay, where they took up their abode, froze over on the 10th of October. After the commencement of the new year, the frost became most intense; it raised blisters in their flesh as if they had been burned with fire, and if they touched iron at such times it would stick to their fingers like bird-lime. Sometimes, when they went out of doors to procure water, they were seized in such a way by the cold, that their flesh felt as sore as if they had been cruelly beaten.

The effects of cold at Disco, as observed by M. Paul Egedé, on the 7th January, 1738, and recorded by David Crantz, in his History of Greenland, are too striking to be omitted. “The ice and hoar-frost,” says Egedé, “reach through the chimney to the stove’s mouth, without being thawed by the fire in the day-time. Over the chimney is an arch of frost, with little holes, through which the smoke discharges itself. The doors and walls are as if they were plastered over with frost, and, which is scarcely credible, beds are often frozen to the bedsteads. The linen is frozen in the drawers, the upper eider-down bed and the pillows are quite stiff with frost an inch thick, from the breath.”

The terrific power of these mighty agencies of nature illustrate His perfections, who has all resources at his command, to minister to the comfort of his servants, or the inevitable destruction of his enemies. To be hostile to the God of heaven and of earth, is surely the height of folly as well as of ingratitude. “He sendeth forth his commandment upon earth: his word runneth very swiftly. He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoar-frost like ashes. He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who can stand before his cold?”

In these frigid regions, the scurvy becomes a very alarming disease, and many individuals have perished by it, who have attempted to winter in Spitzbergen and neighbouring countries. It appears, however, probable, that this disease is not so much influenced by the severity of the climate as by the use of improper aliment. An excellent paper on this subject, by Dr. John Aikin, is published in the Memoirs of the Literary and Philosophical Society of Manchester. It affirms, that by the constant use of fresh provisions, the occasional use of oleaginous substances, together with frequent exercise, a warm dwelling, and a warm clothing, there would, probably, be little danger in exposure to the severities of a Spitzbergen winter. Whenever I have had occasion to expose myself to severe cold, I have found that the more I am heated the longer I can resist the cold without inconvenience. The warmth produced by simple fluids, such as tea or soup, is preferable to that occasioned by spirits. After the liberal use of tea, I have often sustained a cold ten degrees at the mast-head for several hours without uneasiness. I have frequently gone from the breakfast-table, where the temperature was 50° or 60°, to the mast-head, where it was ten, without any other additional clothing except a cap, yet I never received any injury, and seldom much inconvenience, from the uncommon transition.

The antiseptical property of frost is remarkable. Animal substances requisite as food, of all descriptions, (fish excepted,) may be taken to Greenland, and there preserved any length of time, without being smoked, dried, or salted. Beef, mutton, pork, and fowls, the latter neither plucked nor drawn, are constantly taken out from England, Shetland, or Orkney, and preserved in this way. When used, the beef is best divided by a saw; it is then thawed in cold water, and, if cooked, when three, four, or five months old, will frequently appear as profuse of gravy as if it had been recently killed. A further antiseptical effect is produced by the cold on animal and vegetable substances, so as to preserve them, if they remain in the same climate, unchanged for a period of many years. An instance corroborative of this remark is given by M. Bleau, who, in his Atlas Historique, informs us, that the bodies of seven Dutch seamen, who perished in Spitzbergen, in the year 1635, were found twenty years afterwards by some sailors, who happened to land about the place where they were interred, in a perfect state, not having suffered the smallest degree of putrefaction. Wood, indeed, has been met with in Spitzbergen, which has resisted all injury from the weather during the lapse of a century.

Our remarks must now be directed to meteorology, and to an investigation of the temperature of the north Polar regions, and its constant tendency to equalization.

Though in a state of rapid improvement, the science of meteorology is acknowledged to be yet in its infancy. Before the discovery of the weight of the atmosphere by Torricelli, about the year 1630, no means of registering its variations of pressure could be known or practised. Hence we can have no very correct idea of the relative temperature of climates in the present and remote periods, unless from occasional historical remarks of the formation of ice in particular lakes, rivers, or parts of the sea, or from the capability of the earth for producing certain fruits or grain. In consequence, however, of the use of the thermometer and barometer, meteorology, as a science, has made considerable advancement. The records of phenomena, which these instruments indicate, have proved highly useful. Professor Mayer has given us a formula for determining the temperature of any situation on the globe, where observations have not been made. Dr. Hutton has presented us with an ingenious and plausible theory of rain; and Kirwan, Humboldt, and others, have advanced our knowledge of the climates of different countries. Dr. Wells has investigated the phenomena of dew, and professor Leslie has conducted profound researches on the relations of air to heat and moisture, and on the propagation of heat and cold through the atmosphere to distant regions. By the invention, also, of several curious and useful instruments, especially the hygrometer for the measurement of the dryness or dampness of the atmosphere, he has contributed very largely to the advancement of meteorological knowledge.

The temperature of the atmosphere in any particular region is one of those phenomena, which, however they may fluctuate, or whatever may be their daily, monthly, or yearly variations, and however unequal and capricious these may be, will, on the average of numerous corresponding periods, be found to be dependent on certain laws tending to produce equilibrium; so that the general results are remarkably uniform. When we experience particularly cold winters, or particularly hot summers, we might suppose that the mean temperature of the years in which the former occur, would be greatly below, and that of years in which the hot summers occur, would be greatly above, the general standard. But this will seldom be found to be the case. In temperate climates of the northern hemisphere, the mean temperature of any one year, derived from the mean of the daily extremes of heat and cold, or from any particular number of daily observations, continued through the course of twelve successive months, seldom differs from the general mean temperature, as derived from the observation of a great, number of years, more than two or three degrees. The mean temperature of any single month cannot be supposed to be equally uniform; this, however, does not differ so widely from the general mean of the month as might be expected.

As the mean annual temperature of a country is, therefore, probably given by one year’s observations only, to within two or three degrees of the truth, the mean of a period of eight or ten years will, probably, come within one degree of the truth. By the comparison of the results of thermometrical observations, made in different countries, with each other, tracing the changes of temperature, which appear with certain changes of latitude or situation, some ingenious and philosophical men have endeavoured, by principles of analogy and induction, to determine the mean temperature of every parallel of latitude from the Equator to the north Pole. These calculations have been considered as near approximations; and, as long as observations were wanting, served for purposes of investigation, to complete the scale of the temperature of the globe. When we reach, however, the regions of perpetual ice, a remarkable anomaly is discovered, the mean temperature falling below the estimation in these tables at once 17°. From a series of observations on the temperature, etc., of the Polar regions, conducted with care during twelve successive voyages to the Greenland Seas, I am able to deduce the following conclusions.

The mean temperature of the months of April, May, June, and July, are satisfactorily derived from the means of the latitudes and of the observations of temperature; but the mean temperature of the whole year, and of the winter months, wherein no observations in such high latitudes have yet been made, can only be ascertained by analogy. From the examination of numerous thermometrical registers, particularly one consisting of 54,750 observations, made in a succession of fifty years, at Stockholm, it would seem that the temperature of the year in northern latitudes is indicated by that of the 27th to 28th of April. I have collated 656 observations, made on 242 days, in nine different years, extending equally before and after the 27th of April, from which the mean temperature of the year, in latitude 76° 45′, near the meridian of London, appears to be 18° 86′. Reducing all the monthly temperatures derived from my observations to the parallel of latitude 78° north, by the application of Mayer’s formula, and allowing for the fact that many of the observations of April were made at a considerable distance from the ice, I calculate the temperature of April, latitude 78°, to be 14° 23′, and the mean of the year in the same proportion exactly 17°. Having discovered, by observation chiefly, the mean temperature of the months of April, May, June, and July, and the probable mean temperature of the year in the icy regions adjoining Spitzbergen, I conceive it not difficult to calculate the temperature of the remaining months. The difference between the mean temperature of the year and that of July, is 21½° in Stockholm, and 20° near Spitzbergen. Finding not only that the difference of temperature between the mean of the year and July, near Spitzbergen, but that the progressive increase of temperature from April to July, also, bore a strong analogy to the relative circumstances at Stockholm, I formed a scheme of decimals, connected with a simple formula, by which the same proportion of change, which has been observed to take place every month at Stockholm, may be made very readily to apply to any other country, whence, situations and circumstances being nearly similar, the temperature of unobserved months may be calculated. The temperature of January, latitude 78°, comes out—1°; that of February, O° 7′; March, 6° 1′; August, 34° 9′; September, 27° 8′; October, 18° 5′; November, 9° 8′; and December, 3° 1′.

Following the example of every generalizing meteorologist, I may, with some propriety, extend my observations to the probable temperature of the north Pole, provided I can proceed on data, not merely arbitrary or fanciful, but founded on observation and analogy.

It has been observed, that professor Mayer’s theory for ascertaining the temperature of every latitude, becomes exceedingly wide of the truth when we approach the regions of perpetual ice, notwithstanding in most other situations on the sea, or bordering thereon, it holds sufficiently near. According to it, the mean temperature of latitude 76° 45′, near the western coast of Spitzbergen, would have been 33° 8′, instead of 18° 8′, as shown by my observations; and, according to it, the mean temperature of the Pole is reckoned to be about 31°. The 15° difference between the observation and calculation must be considered as the frigorific effect of the ice, of which, if we can ascertain the probable measurement at the Pole, we shall be able to modify Mayer’s calculation, so as to approximate to the mean temperature. At the Pole, no wind could convey the mild influence of a temperate climate, because, from whatever direction it should blow, it must be cooled down by brushing over an extensive surface of ice; consequently, the full frigorific effect of the ice must be greater in the Pole than in places situated at or near the borders of the ice. In a total period of 242 days, the temperature of the air was, by observation, found to be more or less influenced by the ice during 173 days of that period. Hence, as 173 is to 15°, the anomaly occasioned by the mean temperature, so is 242 to 21°, which is the probable anomaly that may be expected when the temperature is always influenced by the ice, or the anomaly which may be supposed to occur at the Pole. Now, if we deduct 21° from 31°, the calculated temperature of the Pole, the actual mean temperature at the Pole will be about 10°.

Concerning the pressure of the atmosphere in Polar latitudes, I would remark, particularly in the winter and spring months, it is liable to sudden and very considerable variations, and a careful study and observation of these is necessary to enable the watchful mariners to anticipate the approach of storms.

The following are the relations which, in Polar latitudes, I have been enabled to trace between the barometer and the weather:—

1. A hard westerly gale, with snow, occasions the greatest depression of the mercury; and a light easterly wind, with dry weather, the greatest elevation.

2. The rising of the mercury foretells the subsidence of wind or rain, a change of wind or fine weather; and its falling, rain, snow, or a change or increase of wind.

3. The mercury rising unusually high, and then becoming stationary, indicates, in the months of April and May, a continuance of fine weather; but in June or July, foggy weather.

4. If, in the month of April, the mercury fall with some rapidity an inch or more, a storm will most certainly succeed, however contrary appearances may be, which will probably be the more severe in proportion as it approximates the east, and will frequently continue, with unabated violence, for fifty or sixty hours.

5. The rising of the mercury usually precedes the cessation of a storm, but does not invariably determine the period of its continuance, as storms frequently blow for a day or two after the first rise of the mercury.

6. Sudden and repeated fluctuations are indicative of unsettled weather; but the rapid fall of the mercury is no indication of a short gale, though, in other regions, the reverse is said to be the case; for, before storms that continue two or three days, the barometer frequently falls an inch within twenty-four hours; and indeed, in a gale as long and as heavy as I almost ever witnessed, the fall of the mercury was above an inch in twelve hours.

7. Before very heavy storms, when the barometer falls uncommonly low, the mercury seems to get below its natural level, and often rises two or three tenths of an inch as soon as the predicted storm commences; hence this first rise of the mercury is no indication whatever of an abatement of the wind.

8. On account of the different states of the barometer in west and east winds, the usual level of the mercury, with a moderate wind at west, not being much higher than with a gale at east, a change of wind from one of these quarters to the opposite may be accompanied with the greatest alteration in the strength of the wind, without producing any effect on the barometer.

The appearance of the Greenland atmosphere corresponds in some degree with the winter sky of Britain; the colour of the former is, however, of a deeper azure, and its transparency, when clear and free from icy crystals, perhaps more perfect.

Far within the borders of compact ice the atmosphere, in summer, is often cloudless, and the weather serenely pleasant, though cold. But in the usual fishing-stations, and on the exterior of the ice in general, a clear sky is not frequent; nevertheless, when it does occur, its transparency is peculiarly beautiful. The sun sometimes sweeps two or three times round the Pole, without being for a moment obscured by a cloud. Objects the most remote may be seen perfectly distinct and clear. A ship’s top-gallant-mast, at the distance of five or six leagues, may be discerned when just appearing above the horizon, with a common perspective glass; and the summits of some mountains are visible at the distance of sixty to a hundred miles. This perfect clearness occurs most frequently before easterly winds; in general, however, especially in very cold weather, objects on the horizon, when viewed with a high magnifier, appear affected with a perpetual tremor; whence the contemplation of distant objects is accomplished as perfectly with a good pocket-glass as with the best telescope. This tremulous motion is evidently produced by the quantity of delicate icy crystals which, in very low temperatures, are almost always seen floating in the air.

The general obscurity of the atmosphere, arising from clouds or fogs, is such, that the sun is frequently invisible during several successive days. At such times, when the sun is near the northern tropic, there is scarcely any sensible variation in the quantity of light from noon to midnight. Hence, when the sailors have been long abroad in the boats, or so fully engaged as to be unable to mark the progress of time, the inquiry, whether it be day or night, is not unfrequent.

There is nothing remarkable in the appearance of the sun at midnight, excepting that, when its altitude is very small, it may be viewed with the naked eye, without producing any painful sensation; but when it is more than four or five degrees above the horizon, it generally appears as effulgent as with the same elevation in Britain. The force of the sun’s rays is sometimes remarkable. Where they fall upon the snow-clad surface of the ice or land, they are, in a great measure, reflected, without producing any material elevation of temperature; but when they impinge on the black exterior of a ship, the pitch on one side occasionally becomes fluid, while ice is rapidly generated on the other; or, while a thermometer, placed against the black paint-work on which the sun shines, indicates a temperature of 80° or 90°, or even more, on the opposite side of the ship a cold of 20° is sometimes found to prevail.

This remarkable force of the sun’s rays is accompanied with a corresponding intensity of light. A person placed in the centre of a field or other compact body of ice, under a cloudless atmosphere and elevated sun, experiences such an extraordinary intensity of light, that if it be encountered for any length of time, is not only productive of a most painful sensation in the eyes, but sometimes of temporary, or even, as I have heard, of permanent blindness. Under such circumstances, the use of green glasses affords a most agreeable relief. Some of the Indians of North America defend their eyes by the use of a kind of wooden spectacles, having, instead of glasses, a narrow perpendicular slit opposite to each eye. This simple contrivance, which intercepts, perhaps, nine-tenths of the light that would reach a naked eye, prevents any painful consequences in the most intense reflection of light that ever occurs.

The constant light of the sun during the summer prevents the stars from being seen; and this, together with the frequency of cloudy or foggy weather, rarely admits a sight of the moon. Hence, the longitude, which is of such essential importance in navigation, can seldom be determined by lunar observations. Chronometers, therefore, though but little used by the whale-fishers, become of enhanced value; and even a good watch, well regulated, will, where the degrees of longitude are so very contracted, point out the meridianal situation of the ship for short intervals, with a very tolerable degree of accuracy.

Though the air in the arctic seas is generally in a state of dampness, approaching to complete saturation, yet the absolute quantity of moisture cannot, when the cold is very excessive, be considerable. It is remarked, that vessels are less apt to rust here than in any other climate; and this observation, if we consider the relative humidity of the atmosphere as indicated by the hygrometer, is certainly correct; but though the air in the Polar regions is generally damp, yet it is probable there is no habitable situation in the known world in which such a degree of actual dryness prevails, as in a house or in the cabin of a ship, well heated, when the external air is intensely cold. The wainscoting of the cabin of a ship in cold weather sometimes shrinks, in consequence of the uncommon dryness, as much as half an inch in a panel of about fifteen inches broad, being equal to one-thirtieth of the breadth; but, on returning to Britain, the same panel expands again to almost its original dimensions.

Few observations, comparatively, seem to have been made on the electricity of the atmosphere, especially in high latitudes. Perhaps, some trials that I made in the spring of 1818, on this subject, were the first that have been attempted within the arctic circle. When in latitude 68°, I erected an insulated conductor, eight feet above the maintop-gallant mast-head, connected by a copper wire with a copper ball, attached by a silk string to the deck. The conductor consisted of a slender tapering tube of tinned iron, terminated by a pointed brass wire. It was fixed in an iron socket, supported by a large cylindrical piece of glass; which glass, by means of another iron socket, was secured to the top of a long pole, elevated several feet above the mast-head. A tin cone encompassed the bottom of the conductor, the mouth of which being downward, defended the rod of glass from getting wet, so as to injure its insulated property. The conducting wire, being kept clear of the rigging of the ship, was expected to exhibit in the ball, where it terminated, any difference between the state of the electricity of the ship or sea and that of the atmosphere. The test of electricity was a Bennet’s gold-leaf electrometer, brought into contact with the ball; but though trials were made for several successive days, from lat. 78° to lat. 75°, during clear, cloudy, and showery weather, not the least excitation was ever observed. That the effect might be rendered more perceptible, the electrometer was well dried and warmed immediately before each experiment, without which, indeed, no excitation could be produced in it, either with glass or sealing-wax. The nights being light, the aurora borealis could not be seen; but on the evening of the 20th of May, an appearance was observed, very much resembling the aurora borealis, yet no signs of electricity were observed in the electrometer applied to the conductor.

There are several phenomena of the atmosphere dependent on reflection and refraction, deserving of notice. Ice-blinks have been already mentioned, when speaking of the ice. Under certain circumstances, all objects seen on the horizon seem to be lifted above it a distance of two to four, or more, minutes of altitude, or so far extended in height above their natural dimensions. Ice, land, ships, boats, and other objects, when thus enlarged and elevated, are said to loom. The lower part of looming objects are sometimes connected with the sensible horizon by an apparent fibrous or columnar extension of their parts, which columns are always perpendicular to the horizon; at other times, they appear to be quite lifted into the air, a void space being seen between them and the horizon. This phenomenon is observed most frequently on, or before, an easterly wind, and is generally considered as indicative of such.

A most extraordinary appearance of the Foreland, or Charles’s Island, Spitzbergen, occurred on the 16th of July, 1814. While sailing to the southward, along the coast, with an easterly wind, I observed what appeared to be a mountain, in the form of a slender, but elevated, monument. I was surprised that I had never seen it before, and was more astonished when I saw, not far distant, a prodigious and perfect arch thrown across a valley, of above a league in breadth. The neighbouring mountains disclosed the cause, by exhibiting an unnatural elevation with the columnar structure of looming objects. Presently, the scene was changed, the mountains along the whole coast assumed the most fantastical forms; the appearance of castles, with lofty spires, towers, and battlements, would, in a few minutes, be converted into a vast arch or romantic bridge. These varied, and sometimes beautiful, metamorphoses naturally suggested the reality of fairy descriptions; for the air was perfectly transparent; the contrast of snow and rocks was quite distinct; even in the substance of the most uncommon phantasms, though examined with a powerful telescope, and every object deemed to possess every possible stability. I never before observed a phenomenon so varied or so amusing. The land was not alone affected by this peculiar refraction, since every object between the north-east and south-east points of the compass was, more or less, deformed by it. A mass of ice on the horizon appeared of the height of a cliff, and the prismatic structure of its front suggested the idea of basaltic columns. It may be remarked, that these phenomena took place on a clear evening, after an uncommonly warm afternoon.

I observed many other peculiar effects of refraction. Such phenomena are frequent on the commencement or approach of easterly winds, and are probably occasioned by the commixture, near the surface of the land or sea, of two streams of air of different temperatures, so as to occasion an irregular deposition of imperfectly condensed vapour, which, when passing the verge of the horizon, produced these appearances.

Parhelia, mock suns, and corona, haloes, are perhaps not so frequent in Greenland as in some parts of America. I do not recollect to have observed them more than thrice. In the first instance, I did not minutely notice the particulars. I recollect, however, there were two or three parhelia, and four or five coloured circles, some of which almost equalled in their colours the brilliancy of the rainbow. On the second occasion, several parhelia were succeeded by a lunar halo, together with the aurora borealis, and proved the harbingers of a tremendous tempest. The last phenomenon of the kind which I saw, consisted of a large circle of luminous whiteness, passing through the centre of the sun, in a direction nearly parallel with the horizon, intersected in various places with coloured circles of smaller dimensions.

Rainbows are common in these regions, but the fog-bow, or fog-circle, is more rarely observed, and is entitled to our attention. It is a circle depicted on the fog, which prevails in the Polar seas, at certain seasons, resting upon the surface of the water, and seldom reaching to a considerable height. On the 19th July, 1813, I observed one of about 30° diameter, with bands of vivid colours depicted on the fog. The centre of the circle was in a line drawn from the sun, through the point of vision, until it met the visible vapour in a situation exactly opposite to the sun. The lower part of the circle descended beneath my feet to the side of the ship, and although it could not be a hundred feet from the eye, it was perfect, and the colours distinct. The centre of the coloured circle was distinguished by my own shadow, the head of which, enveloped by a halo, was most conspicuously portrayed. I remained a long time contemplating the beautiful phenomenon before me.

In the phenomena of the winds, which I am now about to describe, I cannot be so precise as I have been in my observations on atmospheric temperature and pressure; being able to give a correct idea only of their peculiarities and direction, whilst their relative force, founded on conjecture, I am unable to express otherwise than in the phraseology of the mariner, which, it must be allowed, is somewhat ambiguous.

In proportion as we recede from the equator, we find the winds become more variable, irregular, and partial. Storms and calms, in the northern regions, repeatedly alternate, without warning or progression; forcible winds blow at one place, when, at the distance of a few leagues, gentle breezes prevail; a storm from the south, on one hand, exhausts its impetuosity upon the gentle breeze, blowing from off the ice on the other, without prevailing in the least; ships, within the circle of the horizon, may be seen enduring every variety of wind and weather at the same moment; come becalmed, and tossing about by the violence of the waves; some, under close-reefed topsails, labouring under the force of a storm; and others, flying under gentle breezes, from quarters as diverse as the cardinal points.

The most general preliminaries to sudden storms are perfect calms; curiously variable breezes, with strong squalls; singular agitation of the sea, together with thick snow, which often changes from flakes to powder, and falls in such profusion, as to occasion an astonishing gloominess and obscurity in the atmosphere. If the snow clear away, the gale is often at hand, whilst a luminousness on the horizon, resembling the ice-blink, sometimes points out its direction, and a noise in the upper regions of the air announces its immediate approach. In this variable and occasionally tempestuous climate, the value of the barometer is satisfactorily proved. My father once removed his ship from a most dangerous bight in the main ice, where she would probably have been lost, had she remained a few moments longer, in consequence of his having heard the rushing of a storm in the air, while at the mast-head. Before the ship was out of danger, a heavy gale commenced, but the sails being set, and the ship under command, she was extricated from the perilous situation. From this circumstance, he imagined that sudden storms frequently commence at some height in the atmosphere, and gradually descend to the surface. Intermitting gales are almost equally common with sudden storms, and variable winds prevail, in an extraordinary degree, in the frigid zone. The winds, indeed, among ice, are generally unsteady in their direction, and attended with strong gusts or squalls, particularly in very cold weather, and towards the termination of a storm. This variableness, being the effect of the unequal temperature of the ice and water, is curious, but the phenomenon that is most calculated to excite surprise is, that several distinct, and even opposite winds, with the force, in many instances, of a fresh gale, will occasionally prevail at the same moment of time, within the range of the horizon. The situation in which this circumstance occurs, would appear to be the point where conflicting winds contend for the superiority; and as, in some instances, their forces are effectually balanced, the winds, which simultaneously blow from the southward and northward, or from the eastward and westward, have their energies almost destroyed at the place of combination. Thus it sometimes happens that ships, within sight of each other, will, at the same period of time, experience every variety of weather, from calm to storm, from fair weather to thickest snow, together with several distinct and contrary currents of wind.

On the morning of the 30th of April, 1810, the ship Resolution—in which I served in the capacity of chief-mate, or harpooner—was, during thick showers of snow, sailing by the edge of a stream of ice, with the wind from the north-westward. About ten, A. M., the snow abated, and several ships were seen within the distance of three or four miles. As all of these ships were sailing “on a wind,” it was easy to ascertain the direction of the wind where they were, and curious to observe its variableness. Two ships, bearing north-east from us, had the wind at north-east; two, bearing east, had east or east-north-east; two, bearing south-east, had the wind at south-east; while, with us, it blew from the north-west. In each of these situations a fresh breeze prevailed; but in some situations, where there happened to be no ships, there appeared to be no wind at all. The clouds above us, at the time, we’re constantly changing their forms. Showers of snow were seen in various places at a distance.

Instances of local storms are not uncommon in temperate climates, but in the arctic regions they are frequent and striking. Their locality is such, that a calm may occur when a storm is expected and actually does prevail at a short distance, so that the indication of the barometer may appear to be erroneous. In such cases, however, the reality of the storm is often proved by the agitation of the sea. Swells from various quarters make their appearance, and frequently prevail at the same time. My father, whose opportunities of observation have been very numerous, relates the following instance of the locality of a storm. When commanding the ship Henrietta, he was on one occasion navigating the Greenland Sea during a tedious gale of wind, accompanied with snowy weather. As the wind began to abate, a ship appeared in sight, under all sails, and presently came up with the Henrietta. The master hailed, and inquired what had happened that my father’s ship was under close-reefed top-sail in such moderate weather. On being told that a storm had just subsided, he declared that he knew nothing of it; he observed, indeed, a swell, and noticed a black cloud a-head of his ship that seemed to advance before him until he was overshadowed with it a little while before he overtook the Henrietta, but he had had fine weather and light winds the whole day!

A single instance is given of those sudden gusts and various currents of wind, which occur at some elevation in the atmosphere, and which are common to all climates. On a particularly fine day, my father having landed on the northern part of Charles’s island, incited by the same curiosity which led him on shore, ascended, though not without great difficulty and fatigue, a considerable elevation, the summit of which was not broader than a common table, and which shelved on one side as steep as the roof of a house, and on the other formed a mural precipice. Engaged in admiring the extensive prospect from an eminence of about two thousand feet, he scarcely noticed the advance of a very small cloud. Its rapid approach and peculiar form (having somewhat the appearance of a hand) at length excited his attention, and when it reached the place where he was seated in a calm air, a torrent of wind assailed him with such violence, that he was obliged to throw himself on his body and stick his hands and feet in the snow to prevent himself from being hurled over the tremendous slope which threatened his instant destruction. The cloud having passed, the air, to his great satisfaction, became calm, when he immediately descended by sliding down the surface of snow, and in a few minutes reached the base of the mountain in safety.

The course of the seasons, as relates to prevailing winds, is as follows. In the spring months, north-east and east winds are frequent, with severe storms from these and other quarters. The storms from the north-east, east, and south-east, are generally the most violent. When they occur in March and April, they frequently continue without intermission for two or three successive days, and rarely subside till the wind veers round to the north or north-west. Storms, in the spring of the year, blowing from the south-east, generally change, before they abate, to the east, north-east, north, and north-west; but storms commencing at south-west or south, usually veer, before they subside, in the contrary direction, towards the north-west, and sometimes continue changing until their strength is spent in the north or north-east quarter. A storm beginning to blow from the western quarter seldom continues long; when it blows hard it commonly veers to the north or north-east, and it is observable that a very hard southerly or easterly gale is frequently succeeded within a few days by another from the opposite quarter. With the advance of the month of May, storms become less frequent, and the weather becomes sensibly better. The winds then begin to blow more frequently from the north-west; in June, the most common winds are north and north-west, south and south-west; and in July, south and south-westerly winds prevail. At this season, calms or very light winds also become frequent, and continue sometimes for several days together. In high northern latitudes, however, very heavy storms from the southward occur in July, and blow for thirty or forty hours at a time. In August, north-east winds begin again to prevail. The south-west and southerly storms of the autumn blow with particular violence. “The wind rages so vehemently, that the houses quiver and crack, the tents and lighter boats fly up in the air, and the sea-water scatters about in the land like snow-dust—nay, the Greenlanders say that the storm rends off stones a couple of pounds’ weight, and mounts them in the air. In summer, whirlwinds also spring up, that draw up the waters out of the sea, and turn a boat round several times.”

When the countries of temperate climates suffer under tempests in frequent succession, Polar regions enjoy comparative tranquillity. After the autumn gales have passed, a series of calm weather, attended by severe frosts, frequently succeeds. So striking, indeed, is the stillness of the northern winter, that there is truth in Dr. Guthrie’s observation, that nature seems “to have studied perfect equality in the distribution of her favours, as it is only parts of the earth which most enjoy the kindly influences of the sun that suffer by the effects of its superior heat, so that if the atmosphere of the north is not so genial as that of the south, at least it remains perfectly quiet and serene, without threatening destruction to man and the product of his industry as in what are called happier climates.”

The principal meteors, not being of the aqueous kind, that remain to be considered are lightning and the aurora borealis. As we approach the Pole, the former phenomenon becomes more rare, and the latter more common. Lightning, indeed, is seldom seen to the northward of the arctic circle, and when it does occur, it is very seldom accompanied by thunder.

In Spitzbergen, neither thunder nor lightning has, I believe, ever been observed. For my own part, I have never seen lightning northward of latitude 65°, and only in two instances when at any considerable distance from land. The aurora borealis occurs independent of land and of cold, becoming more frequent in its appearance as we approach the Pole, and enlivening by its brilliancy and peculiar grandeur the tedious gloom of the long winter nights. Its appearance, though not very frequently seen in Britain, is very common as far south as Shetland and Feroe. In Iceland, and other countries bordering on the arctic circle, the northern lights occur almost every clear night during the winter. In the summer, they can seldom be seen on account of the presence of the sun, and in the spring of the year, the obscurity of the atmosphere prevents their frequent exhibition. In several instances, I have known stormy weather follow the appearance of the brilliant aurora, and one of the most tremendous storms I was ever exposed to, succeeded a splendid exhibition of the northern lights. Under certain circumstances, especially when they are seen at a considerable altitude above the horizon, having a red or copper colour, they are supposed to be indicative of a violent storm.

Our chapter on atmospherical phenomena must now be concluded by observations on aqueous meteors; including clouds, rain, hail, snow, frost-rime, hoar-frost, and fog.

Very little clear weather occurs in the Greenland seas, for often when the atmosphere is free from any visible vapour on the land, at sea it is obscured by frost-rime in the spring of the year, and by clouds or fog in the summer; so that scarcely one-twentieth of the season devoted to the whale-fishery can be said to consist of clear weather.

The clouds most generally consist of a dense stratum of obscurity, composed of irregular compact patches covering the whole expanse of the heavens. The cirrus, cirrocumulus, and cirrostratus, of Howard’s nomenclature, are occasionally distinct; the nimbus is partly formed, but never complete: and the grandeur of the cumulus or thunder-cloud is never seen, unless it be on the land. In the atmosphere over the coasts in Greenland and Spitzbergen, where the air is greatly warmed by the concentration and reflection of the sun’s rays in the sheltered valleys, a small imperfect cumulus is sometimes exhibited.

The known agents made use of in the economy of nature for the production of rain are changes of temperature and electricity. The latter principle is supposed to act most powerfully in the production of thunder-showers, in which case it is not unlikely that a portion of the air of the atmosphere is, by the passing of the lightning from one cloud to another, converted into water. The former seems to be the chief agent in the colder regions of the globe, where electricity is either more equal in its distribution, or not so active in its operations as in the warmer climates. From the beautiful theory of the late Dr. James Hutton, supported by the researches of professor Leslie, it appears, that “while the temperature advances uniformly in arithmetical progression, the dissolving power which this communicates to the air mounts with the accelerating rapidity of a geometrical series;” and this in such a ratio, that the “air has its dryness doubled at each rise of temperature answering to fifteen centesimal degrees,” or twenty-seven of Fahrenheit. Hence, “whatever be the actual condition of a mass of air, there must always exist some temperature at which it would become perfectly damp;” and hence whenever two streams of air saturated with moisture of different temperatures are mixed together, or brush against one another, in the form of different currents of wind, there must always be a quantity of moisture precipitated. For if two masses of air, of different temperatures, but equal in quantity, and both saturated with moisture, were mixed together, the resulting temperature would be nearly the mean of the two, but, at that temperature, the capacity of air for moisture being less than the quantity contained in the two commixed masses, the surplus must be deposited.

Rain is by no means common in the Polar countries excepting in the months of July and August, and then only with southerly or westerly winds. During all seasons of the year, however, with strong gales blowing from a southern climate, rain is occasionally observed in situations near the edge of the ice; but snow or sleet are more common even under such circumstances; and in remote situations among ice, near the 80th parallel of latitude, rain seldom or never occurs.

Hail is a much more familiar meteor in temperate than in frigid climates. In the Greenland Sea, this aqueous concretion is very rarely seen; and if we define it as consisting of pellucid spheres of ice, generated in the atmosphere, it may be said to be unknown in very high latitudes. This fact is in favour of the electrical origin of hail, as it is well-known to be common in temperate climates, where the air is in a high state of electricity, and to be the frequent concomitant of thunder and lightning. The only substance resembling hail that is generated in the frigid zone consists of a white, porous, spherical concretion of light and snowy texture.

Snow is so very common in the arctic regions, that it may be boldly stated, that in nine days out of ten, in April, May, and June, more or less snow falls. With southerly winds, near the borders of the ice, or in situations where humid air, blowing from the sea, assimilates with a gelid breeze from the ice, the heaviest falls of snow occur. In this case, a depth of two or three inches is sometimes deposited in an hour. The thickest precipitations also frequently precede sudden storms. The form of the particles of snow presents an endless variety. When the temperature of the air is within a degree or two of the freezing point, much snow falls, frequently consisting of large irregular flakes, such as are common in Britain. Sometimes it exhibits small granular, or large rough white concretions; at others, it consists of white spiculæ, or rude stellated crystals. But in severe frosts, though the sky appears perfectly clear, lamellar flakes of snow, of the most regular and beautiful forms, are always seen floating in the air, and sparkling in the sunbeams, and the snow which falls in general is of most elegant texture and appearance.

Snow, of a reddish or brownish colour, is not unfrequently seen. The brownish stain, which occurs on shore, is given by an earthy substance brought from the mountains by the streams of water, derived from thawing ice and snow, or the fall of rain. The reddish colour, as far as I have observed, is given by the mute of birds; though, in the example met with by captain Ross, in Baffin’s Bay, the stain appears to have been of a vegetable nature. The little auk, (Alca alle,) which feeds upon shrimps, is found, in some parts of the Polar seas, in immense numbers. They frequently retreat to pieces of ice, or surfaces of snow, and stain them all over red with their mute. Martens saw red snow in Spitzbergen, which he considered as being stained by rain-water running down by the rocks.

The extreme beauty and endless variety of the microscopic objects procured in the animal and vegetable kingdoms, are perhaps fully equalled, if not surpassed, in both particulars of beauty and variety, by the crystals of snow. The principal configurations are the stelliform and hexagonal, though almost every shape, of which the generating angles of 60° and 12° are susceptible, may, in the course of a few years’ observation, be discovered. The various modifications of crystals may be classed under five general kinds, or genera.

1. Lamellar, infinite in variety, most delicate in structure, and capable of sub-division into several distinct species.

2. A lamellar, or spherical nucleus, with spinous ramifications in different planes. This genus also consists of two or three species.

3. Fine spiculæ, or six-sided prisms. The finest specimens resemble white hair, cut into lengths not exceeding a quarter of an inch.

4. Hexagonal pyramids. I have but once seen this kind of snow crystal.

5. Spiculæ, or prisms having one or both extremities inserted in the centre of a lamellar crystal. This genus resembles a pair of wheels, united by an axle-tree.

In low temperatures, the greatest proportion of crystals that fall are, probably, perfect geometrical figures.

Some of the general varieties in the figures of the crystals may be referred to the temperature of the air; but the particular and endless modifications of similar classes of crystals can only be referred to the pleasure of the great First Cause, whose works, even the most minute and evanescent, and in regions the most remote from human observation, bear the impress of His own hand, and display to his intelligent creatures his vast and beneficent wisdom. If, on these forms of unintelligent matter, he has bestowed such excellent workmanship, with how much more transcendent loveliness will he clothe those who are redeemed by the exceeding riches of his grace, and who, beyond the history and productions of all worlds, will reflect the beauty of his glorious countenance!

Frost-rime, or frost-smoke, is a meteor peculiar to those parts of the globe where a very low temperature prevails for a considerable time. It consists of a dense frozen vapour, apparently arising out of the sea, or any large sheet of water, and ascending, in high winds and turbulent seas, to the height of eighty or one hundred feet, but, in light breezes and smooth water, creeping along the surface. The particles of which it consists are as small as dust, and cleave to the rigging of ships, or almost any substance against which they are driven by the wind, and afford a coating of an inch or upwards in depth. These particles adhere to one another until the windward surface of the ropes is covered, and form long fibres somewhat of a prismatical or pyramidal shape, having their points directed towards the wind. Frost-rime adheres readily to articles of clothing; and, from the circumstance of its lodging in the hair, and giving it the appearance of being powdered, the sailors humorously style it “the barber.” Such of the frost-rime as is dislodged from the rigging whenever the ship is tacked, covers the deck to a considerable thickness, and, when trod upon, emits an acute sound, resembling the crushing of fine particles of glass. The cause of this phenomenon, which generally is not observed until the cold is reduced to 14°, may perhaps be similar to that producing rain, and may be explained according to Dr. Hutton’s theory.

An aqueous vapour, consisting of very minute frozen particles, sometimes occupies the lower regions of the atmosphere in temperate and frigid climates, during frosty weather, and is deposited on the ground, on surfaces of ice, or almost any other substance with which it comes in contact. This vapour seems to be of the nature of hoar-frost; it generally appears in the evening, after a bright sunshiny day.

Fog, or mist, is the last meteor that remains to be considered. This is one of the greatest annoyances that the arctic whalers have to encounter. It frequently prevails during the greater part of the month of July, and sometimes, at considerable intervals, in June and August. Its density is often such, that it circumscribes the prospect to an area of a few acres, not being pervious to sight at the distance of a hundred yards. It frequently lies so low that the brightness of the sun is scarcely at all intercepted; in such cases, substances warmed by the sun’s rays, give to the air immediately above them increased capacity for moisture, by which evaporation goes briskly on during the densest fogs. In Newfoundland, on occasions when the sun’s rays penetrate the mist, and heat the surface of the rocks, fish is frequently dried during the thickest fogs. Fogs are more frequent and more dense at the borders of the ice than near the coast of Spitzbergen. They occur principally when the mercury, in the thermometer, is near the freezing point, but they are by no means uncommon with the temperature of 40° or 45°. They are most general with south-westerly, southerly, and south-easterly winds. They seldom occur with high winds, yet in one or two instances I have observed them very thick, even in storms. Rain generally disperses them. Fogs, by increasing the apparent distances of objects, appear sometimes to magnify men into giants, hummocks of ice into mountains, and common pieces of drift-ice into heavy floes or bergs. They are an especial annoyance to the whale-fisher, and greatly perplex the navigator, by preventing him from obtaining observations for the correction of his latitude and longitude, so that he often sails in complete uncertainty. Fogs are more common near the ice than in the vicinity of the land, more frequent in open seasons than in close seasons, and more intense and more common in the southern fishing-stations than in the most northern.

[CHAPTER V.]

A SKETCH OF THE ZOOLOGY OF THE ARCTIC REGIONS.

In the arrangement of the following original observations on, and descriptions of the more remarkable animals inhabiting, or frequenting, Spitzbergen and the adjacent seas, I have followed Linnæus, in combination with La Cepède. The latter author has published a most voluminous and pleasing account of cetaceous animals, and has made some judicious changes in the Linnæan arrangements. By La Cepède, for instance, whales having the dorsal fin are separated from those without it; the former being called, in distinction from the latter, Balænopteræ, signifying whales with a fin.

Our first description must relate to the animals of the cetaceous kind, which frequent the Greenland Seas.

Of these the first in eminence and of importance to our commerce, is the Balæna mysticetus, the common or Greenland whale. This animal is productive of more oil than any other of the cetacea, and being less active, slower in its motion, and more timid than any other of its kind, of similar, or nearly similar, magnitude, it is more easily captured. Its size has been much overrated, and, in his excellent natural history of cetaceous animals, La Cepède has been guilty of considerable exaggeration. In the age when whales were regarded with superstitious dread, it is easy to conceive that the dimensions of an animal inhabiting an element in which it cannot easily be measured, would be recorded with extravagance. Authors of the first respectability in the present day give a length of eighty to one hundred feet to the mysticetus, and remark with unqualified assertion, that when the captures were less frequent, and the animals had sufficient time to attain their full growth, specimens were found of one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet in length, or even longer; and some ancient naturalists, indeed, have gone so far as to assert, that whales had been seen of above nine hundred feet in length. In the present day, however, it is certain that they are by no means so bulky. Of three hundred and twenty-two individuals, in the capture of which I have been personally concerned, no one, I believe, exceeded sixty feet in length, and the largest I ever measured was fifty-eight feet, from one extremity to the other, being one of the largest to appearance which I ever saw. An uncommon whale that was caught near Spitzbergen, about twenty years ago, the whalebone of which measured almost fifteen feet, was not, I understand, so much as seventy feet in length; and the longest actual measurement that I have met with, or heard of, is given by sir Charles Giesecké, who informs us, that in the spring of 1813, a whale was killed at Godhaven of the length of sixty-seven feet. These, however, are very uncommon instances. I therefore conceive that sixty feet may be considered as the size of the larger animals of this species, and sixty-five feet in length as a magnitude which very rarely occurs.

I believe, too, that whales are now met with of as large dimensions as at any former period since the commencement of the whale-fishery; a point which, I think, can be established from various historical records.

The greatest circumference of the whale is from thirty to forty feet. It is thickest a little behind the fins, or in the middle, between the anterior and posterior extremes of the animal, from whence it gradually tapers in a conical form towards the tail, and slightly towards the head. Its form is cylindrical, from the neck to within ten feet of the tail, beyond which it becomes somewhat quadrangular, the greatest ridge being upward, or on the back, and running backward nearly across the middle of the tail. The head has somewhat of a triangular shape. The under-part, the arched outline of which is given by the jaw-bones, is flat, and measures sixteen to twenty feet in length, and ten to twelve in breadth. The lips, extending fifteen or twenty feet in length, and five or six in height, and forming the cavity of the mouth, are attached to the under-jaw, and rise from the jaw-bones at an angle of about 80°, having the appearance, when viewed in front, of the letter U. The upper-jaw, including the “crown-bone,” or skull, is bent down at the extremity, so as to shut the front and upper parts of the cavity of the mouth, and is overlapped by the lips in a squamous manner at the sides.

When the mouth is open, it presents a cavity as large as a room, and capable of containing a merchant-ship’s jolly-boat full of men, being six or eight feet wide, ten or twelve feet high in front, and fifteen or sixteen feet long. The fins, two in number, are placed between one-third and two-fifths of the length of the animal, from the snout, and about two feet behind the angle of the mouth. They are seven to nine feet in length, and four or five in breadth; and in the living animal are capable of considerable flexion. The whale has no dorsal fin.

The tail, comprising in a single surface eighty or one hundred square feet, is a formidable instrument of motion or defence. Its length is only five or six feet, but its width is eighteen to twenty-four or twenty-six feet. Its position is horizontal. In its form it is flat and semi-lunar, indented in the middle, the two lobes somewhat pointed and turned a little backward. Its motions are rapid and universal; its strength immense.

The eyes are situated in the sides of the head, about a foot obliquely above and behind the angle of the mouth. They are little larger than those of an ox. The whale has no external ear. The spiracles or nostrils of the whale are two longitudinal apertures, six or eight inches in length, from which a moist vapour, mixed with mucous, is discharged when the animal breathes, but no water accompanies it unless the breathing takes place under the surface. The mouth, in place of teeth, contains two extensive rows of “fins,” or whalebone, which are suspended from the sides of the crown-bone. Each series, or side of bone, as the whale-fishers term it, consists of upwards of three hundred laminæ, of which the longest are near the middle. Ten or eleven feet is the average length, and the greatest breadth at the gum ten or twelve inches. The interior edges of these laminæ are covered with a fringe of hair. In the youngest whales, called suckers, the whalebone is only a few inches long; when the length reaches six feet or upwards, the whale is said to be of size. The colour of the whalebone is brownish black, or bluish black, and occasionally striped longitudinally with white. A large whale sometimes affords a ton and a half of whalebone. The gum, in which the thick ends of the whalebone are inserted, is white, fibrous, tender, and tasteless. It cuts like cheese, and has the appearance of the kernel of the cocoanut. The animal has a large tongue, a slight beard, and a remarkably narrow throat.

The milk of the whale resembles that of quadrupeds in appearance, and is said to be rich and well-flavoured. In the female, two paps are situated on the abdomen.

The colour of the mysticetus is velvet black, grey, and white, with a tinge of yellow, according to the parts of the body. The older animals contain the most grey and white; under-sized whales are altogether of a bluish black, and suckers of a pale bluish, or bluish grey colour.

The skin of the body is slightly furrowed, but on the tail it is smooth. That part of the skin, which can be pulled off in sheets after it has been dried a little in the air, or particularly in the frost, is not thicker than parchment. The rete mucosum in adults is about three-fourths of an inch in thickness over most parts of the body. Under it lies the true skin, white and tough, and immediately in contact with it the blubber.

This most valuable portion of the animal encompasses its whole body. Its colour is yellowish white, yellow, or red; in old animals sometimes resembling the substance of the salmon. It swims in water. Its thickness all round the body is eight or ten to twenty inches, varying in different parts, as well as in different individuals. The lips are composed almost entirely of blubber, and yield from one to two tons of pure oil each. The oil appears retained in the blubber in minute cells, connected by a strong reticulated combination of tendinous fibres, which are condensed at the surface, and appears to form the substance of the skin. The oil is expelled when heated. In its fresh state, the blubber is without unpleasant smell, and it is only at the end of the voyage that the cargo of a Greenland ship becomes disagreeable.

The quantity of oil yielded by a certain quantity of blubber varies according to the age of the animal; the blubber of the sucker contains a very small portion. The quantity of oil generally bears a proportion to the length of the longest blade of whalebone. Four tons of blubber in measure generally produce three tons of oil; the ton of oil being two hundred and fifty-two gallons, wine-measure.

The flesh of the young whale is of a red colour, and, when broiled and seasoned with pepper and salt, eats like coarse beef. The bones are very porous, and contain much fine oil. The ribs are thirteen in number, and are nearly solid, and the bones of the fins, in number and proportion, are similar to those of the fingers of the human hand.

A stout whale, of sixty feet in length, is of the enormous weight of seventy tons; the blubber weighs about thirty tons; the bones of the head, whalebone, fins, and tail, eight or ten; the carcase thirty or thirty-two.

The whale is dull of hearing, but its sense of seeing is acute, especially when under water. It has no voice, but makes in breathing or blowing a very loud noise. It blows or breathes about four or five times a minute, discharging vapour to the height of some yards, which, at a distance, looks like a puff of smoke. When the animal is wounded, this vapour is often stained with blood, and on the approach of death jets of blood are sometimes discharged. The whale being lighter than the water, can remain at the surface with ease, but requires considerable exertion to descend. It advances through the water by means of the tail, which, to attain the greatest velocity, is moved alternately upward and downward; and, for slower progress, laterally and obliquely downward, in the manner of skulling a boat. The fins are used for balancing the animal, and in bearing off their young. I have observed a whale descending, after I had harpooned it, to the depth of four hundred fathoms, with the average velocity of seven or eight miles per hour. The usual rate at which whales swim, however, seldom exceeds four miles an hour, and though their extreme velocity may be eight or nine, yet we find this speed never continues longer than for a few minutes. They sometimes ascend with such rapidity as to leap entirely out of the water, apparently for amusement, and to the high admiration of the distant spectator. At other times they throw themselves into a perpendicular posture, with their heads downward, and rearing their tails on high in the air, they beat the water with awful violence; the sea is thrown into foam, the air is filled with vapours, and the noise in calm weather is heard to a great distance. Sometimes the whale shakes its tremendous tail in the air, which, cracking like a whip, resounds to the distance of two or three miles.

When it retires from the surface, it first lifts its head, then plunging it under water, elevates its back, like the segment of a sphere, deliberately rounds it away towards the extremity, throws its tail out of the water, and then disappears. Whales usually remain at the surface to breathe about two minutes, during which time they “blow” eight or nine times, and then descend for an interval usually of five or ten minutes, but sometimes, when feeding, fifteen or twenty. They commonly descend to only a trifling depth; but, when struck, they have been known, by the quantity of line taken out of the boat, to descend to the depth of an English mile, and, with such velocity, as to break their jaw-bones by the blow struck against the bottom. Occasionally, they may be found sleeping in calm weather among ice, and some persons are of opinion that, when undisturbed, they can remain under the surface for many hours at a time.

The food of the whale consists of various species of actiniæ, clioncs, sepiæ, medusæ, cancri, and helices, judging from the fact that some of these genera are always to be seen wherever any tribe of whales is found stationary. I have only discovered in the stomachs of dead animals squillæ or shrimps. When the whale feeds, it swims swiftly through the sea, with its jaws extended; its food is entangled by the whalebone, which, from its compact arrangement and thick internal covering of hair, does not allow a particle to escape.

The whale has one young at a birth. At this time the young one is said to be at least ten feet long, and continues under the protection of the mother for probably a year, until, by the growth of the whalebone, it is able to maintain itself. It probably reaches the magnitude called size, that is, with a six feet length of whalebone, in twelve years, and attains its full growth at the age of twenty or twenty-five. Whales live to a great age. The maternal affection of the whale is very interesting. The cub, being insensible to danger, is easily harpooned, and is sometimes struck as a snare to secure the mother. In this case she joins it at the surface whenever it has occasion to rise for respiration, encourages it to swim off, assists its flight by taking it under her fin, and seldom deserts it while life remains. In June, 1811, one of my harpooners struck a sucker, with the hope of its leading to the capture of the mother. Presently she arose close by “the fast-boat,” and seizing the young one, dragged about a hundred fathoms of line out of the boat with remarkable force and velocity. Again she rose to the surface, darted furiously to and fro, frequently stopped short, or suddenly changed her direction, and gave every possible intimation of extreme agony. For a length of time she continued thus to act, though closely pursued by the boats; and, inspired with courage and resolution by her concern for her offspring, seemed regardless of the danger which surrounded her. At length, one of the boats approached so near that a harpoon was hove at her. It hit, but did not attach itself. A second harpoon was struck, this also failed to penetrate, but a third was more effectual, and held. Still she did not attempt to escape, but allowed other boats to approach, so that, in a few minutes, three more harpoons were fastened, and, in the course of an hour afterwards she was killed.

There is something deeply interesting in the manner in which the great Maker of all things, in giving laws to the animal kingdom, has thus presented so many illustrations of the parental relation. It is as if he would not leave his intelligent creatures destitute of memorials of their relation to himself; so that, while in the field and on the flood, they behold the signs of parental affection and filial dependence, they may be led to ponder the solemn question of their tender and faithful Parent in heaven—“If, then, I be a Father, where is mine honour?”

The mysticetus occurs most abundantly in the frozen seas of Greenland and Davis’s Strait, in the bays of Baffin and Hudson, in the sea to the northward of Behring’s Strait, and along some part of the northern shores of Asia, and probably America. It is never met with in the German Ocean, and rarely within two hundred leagues of the British coast; but along the coasts of Africa and South America it is met with periodically, in considerable numbers. In these regions, it is attacked and captured by the southern British and American whalers, as well as by some of the people inhabiting the coasts to which it resorts. Whether this whale is precisely of the same kind as that of Spitzbergen and Greenland is uncertain, though it is evidently a mysticetus. One striking difference, possibly the effect of situation and climate, is, that the mysticetus in southern regions is often covered with barnacles, while those of the Arctic Seas are free from these shell-fish.

Besides the formidable inroads made upon the whale by man, it is subject to annoyance from sharks, and it is also said from the narwal, sword-fish, and thrasher. The opinion as to the narwal I am persuaded is incorrect; the sword-fish and thrasher (if such an animal there be) may be enemies of the whale, and the shark certainly is hostile to the extent of his ability, which, in comparison to that of the whale, can hardly be very formidable.

It is certain that the flesh of the whale is now eaten by savage nations, and it is also well authenticated that, in the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, it was used as food by the Icelanders, the Netherlander, the French, the Spaniards, and, probably, by the English. Besides forming a choice eatable, the inferior products of the whale are applied to other purposes by the Indians and Esquimaux of Arctic countries, and, with some nations, are essential to their comfort. Some membranes of the abdomen are used for an upper article of clothing, and the peritoneum in particular, being thin and transparent, is used instead of glass in the windows of their huts; the bones are converted into harpoons and spears for striking the seal, or darting at the sea-birds, and are also employed in the erection of their tents, and, with some tribes, in the formation of their boats; the sinews are divided into filaments, and used as thread, with which they join the seams of their boats and tent-cloths, and sew, with great taste and nicety, the different articles of dress they manufacture; and the whalebone and other superior products, so valuable in European markets, have also their uses among them.

The largest animal of the whale tribe is not the mysticetus, but the Balæna physalis of Linnæus, Balænoptera gibbar of La Cepède, and razor-back of the whalers. This is, probably, the most powerful and bulky of created beings. In comparison with the mysticetus, it has a form less cylindrical, a body longer and more slender, whalebone shorter, produce in blubber and oil less, colour bluer, fins more numerous, breathing more violent, speed greater, and actions quicker, more restless and more bold. Its length is about one hundred feet, and its greatest circumference thirty or thirty-five. Its colour is a pale bluish black, or dark bluish grey, in which it resembles the sucking mysticetus. Besides the two pectoral fins, it has a small horny protuberance, or rayless and immovable fin on the extremity of the back. Its greatest velocity in swimming is about twelve miles an hour. It is by no means a timid animal, yet it does not appear revengeful or mischievous. When closely pursued by boats, it manifests little fear, and does not attempt to outstrip them in the race, but merely endeavours to avoid them by diving or changing its direction. If harpooned, or wounded, it then exerts all its energies, and escapes with its utmost velocity, but shows little disposition to retaliate on its enemies, or to repel their attacks by engaging in a combat. Unlike the mysticetus, it very rarely, when descending into the water, throws its tail into the air. Its great speed and activity render it a difficult and dangerous object of attack, and the small quantity of inferior oil it affords makes it unworthy the general attention of the fishers. When struck, it not uncommonly drags the fast-boat with such speed through the water, that it is liable to be carried immediately beyond the reach of assistance, and soon out of sight of both boats and ship. Hence the striker is under the necessity of cutting the line, and sacrificing his employer’s property for securing the safety of himself and his companions. In the year 1818, I ordered a general chase of them, providing against the danger of having my crew separated from the ship by appointing a rendezvous on the shore not far distant, and preparing against the loss of much line by dividing it at two hundred fathoms from the harpoon, and affixing a buoy to the end of it. Thus arranged, one of these whales was shot, and another struck. The former dived with such impetuosity that the line was broken by the resistance of the buoy, as soon as it was thrown into the water, and the latter was liberated within a minute by the division of the line, occasioned, it was supposed, by its friction against the dorsal fin. Both of them escaped. Another physalis was struck by one of my inexperienced harpooners, who mistook it for a mysticetus. It dived obliquely with such velocity that four hundred and eighty fathoms of line were withdrawn from the boat in about a minute of time. This whale was also lost by the breaking of the line.

The physalis occurs in great numbers in the Arctic Seas, especially along the edge of the ice, between Cherie Island and Nova Zembla, and also near Jan Mayen. Persons trading to Archangel have often mistaken it for the common whale. It is seldom seen among much ice, and seems to be avoided by the mysticetus; hence the fishers view it with painful concern. It inhabits most generally in the Spitzbergen quarter the parallels of 70° to 76°; but in the months of June, July, and August, when the sea is usually open, it advances along the land to the northward as high as 80° of latitude. In open seasons it is seen near the headland at an earlier period. A whale, probably of this kind, one hundred and one feet in length, was stranded on the banks of the Humber, about the middle of September, 1750.

Another species of whale frequenting the coasts of Scotland, Ireland, Norway, etc., is the Balænoptera rorqual of La Cepède, Balæna musculus of Linnæus, or the broad-nosed whale.

In many characters, this species resembles the physalis, though, I think, with an essential difference. The musculus is shorter, having a larger head and mouth, and a rounder under-jaw than the physalis and is said to feed principally upon herrings. Several individuals, apparently of this kind, have been stranded or killed on different parts of the coast of the United Kingdom. One was embayed and killed in Balta Sound, Shetland, in the winter of 1817-18, some remains of which I saw. It was eighty-two feet in length, the jaw-bones were twenty-one feet long, and the largest lamina of whalebone about three feet. Instead of hair at the inner edge, and at the point of each blade of whalebone, it had a fringe of bristly fibres, and it was stiffer, harder, and more horny in its texture than common whalebone. It produced only about five tons of oil, all of it of an inferior quality; some of it viscid and bad. It valued, deducting expenses, no more than £60 sterling. It had the usual sulci about the thorax, and a dorsal fin.

A smaller species of whale is Balænoptera jubartes of La Cepède, Balæna boops of Linnæus, or the finner of the whale-fishers.

The following is its description:—Length, about forty-six feet; greatest circumference of the body, about twenty feet; dorsal protuberance, or fin, about two feet and a half high; pectoral fins, four or five feet long externally, and scarcely a foot broad; tail, about three feet deep and ten broad; whalebone, about three hundred laminæ on each side, the longest about eighteen inches in length, the under-jaw about fifteen feet long, or one-third of the whole length of the animal; sulci, about two dozen in number; two external blow-holes; blubber on the body two or three inches thick, under the sulci none.

The last, and smallest of the whalebone whales, with which I am acquainted, is the Balænoptera acuto-rostrata of La Cepède, Balæna rostrata of Linnæus, or the beaked whale. An animal of this kind was killed in Scalpa Bay, November 14, 1808. Its length was seventeen and a half feet, circumference twenty. Pectoral fins, two feet long and seven inches broad; dorsal fin fifteen inches long by four and a half feet broad. Largest whalebone, about six inches. The rostrata is said to inhabit principally the Norwegian Seas, and to grow to the length of twenty-five feet. One of the species was killed near Spitzbergen, in 1813, and I have some of the whalebone in my possession.

Three species of narwals are noticed by La Cepède, though I myself have seen but one, and perhaps the other species are imaginary, for the animal varies in appearance. It is the Monodon monoceros of Linnæus, and the narwal, or unicorn, of whalers.

It is, when full grown, from thirteen to sixteen feet in length, exclusive of the tusk; and in circumference (two feet behind the fins, where it is thickest,) eight to nine feet. The form of the head, with the part of the body before the fins, is paraboloidal; of the middle of the body, nearly cylindrical; of the hinder-part, to within two or three feet of tail, somewhat conical, and from thence a ridge, commencing both at the back and belly; the section becomes first an ellipse, and then a rhombus, at the junction of the tail. At the distance of twelve or fourteen inches from the tail the perpendicular diameter is about twelve inches, the transverse diameter about seven. The head is about one-seventh of the whole length of the animal; it is small, blunt, round, and of a paraboloidal form. The mouth is small and not capable of much extension. The under-lip is wedge-shaped. The eyes are small, the largest diameter being only an inch, and are placed in a line with the opening of the mouth about thirteen inches from the snout. The blow-hole, which is directly over the eyes, is a single opening, of a semicircular form, about three and a half inches in diameter, or breadth, and one and a half radius, or length. The fins are twelve or fourteen inches long, and six or eight broad; the tail, from fifteen to twenty inches long, and three to four feet broad. It has no dorsal fin, but in place of it an irregular, sharpish, fatty ridge. The colour of the narwal is in the young animal blackish grey, on the back variegated with numerous darker spots, running into one another; in the older animals the ground is wholly white, or yellowish white. The integuments are similar to those of the mysticetus, only thinner.

A long prominent tusk, with which some narwals are furnished, is considered as a horn by the whale-fishers, and as such has given occasion for the name of unicorn being applied to this animal. This tusk occurs on the left side of the head, and is sometimes found of the length of nine or ten feet; according to Egedé, fourteen or fifteen. It springs from the lower part of the upper-jaw, points forward and a little downward, being parallel in its direction to the roof of the mouth. It is spirally situated from right to left, is nearly straight, and tapers to around, blunt point, is of a yellowish white colour, and consists of a compact kind of ivory. It is usually hollow from the base to within a few inches of the point. In a five feet tusk the diameter at the base is two and a quarter inches, and about three-eighths within an inch of the end. This external tusk is peculiar to the male, and there is another imbedded in the skull, on the right side of the head, about nine inches long. Two or three instances have occurred of male narwals having been taken, which had two large external tusks. The use of the tusk is ambiguous. It cannot be essential for procuring their food, nor for defence. Dr. Barclay is of opinion that it is principally a sexual distinction; and it appears not improbable that it is used in piercing the ice for convenience of breathing, without the animal being obliged to retreat to open water. If this latter supposition be correct, it affords another illustration of the wisdom of the great Creator, who has adapted in so many instances the organization of every animal to the locality which it inhabits.

A quantity of blubber, from two to three and a half inches in thickness, and amounting sometimes to above half a ton, encompasses the whole body of the narwal, and affords a large proportion of very fine oil. In a fine fatty substance about the internal ears of the narwal are found multitudes of worms. They are about an inch in length, some shorter, very slender, and taper both ways, but are sharper at one end than at the other. They are transparent. The vertebral column of the narwal is about twelve feet in length. The cervical vertebræ are seven in number, the dorsal twelve, the lumbar and caudal thirty-five. The spinal marrow appears to run through the processes of all the vertebræ from the head to the fortieth, but does not penetrate the forty-first. The ribs are twelve on each side, six true and six false, and are small for the size of the animal. The principal food of the narwal are molluscous animals. I have found remains of sepiæ in several stomachs which I have examined. Narwals are quick, active, inoffensive animals, and swim with considerable velocity. They appear in numerous little herds of half a dozen or more together, each herd being most frequently composed of animals of the same sex. When harpooned, the narwal dives with almost the velocity of the mysticetus, but not to the same extent; on returning to the surface it is dispatched with a lance in a few minutes.

Passing now from these tribes, a short space must be allotted to the description of the dolphins. The first is Delphinus deductor, defined by Dr. Traill, the ca’ing or leading whale. The following are its specific characters. Body thick, black; one short dorsal fin; pectoral fins long, narrow; head obtuse; upper jaw bent forward; teeth subconoid, sharp, and a little bent.

This animal grows to the length of about twenty-four feet, and is about ten feet in circumference. The skin is smooth, resembling oiled-silk; the colour a white blueish black on the back, and generally whitish on the belly; the blubber is three or four inches thick. The head is short and round; the upper jaw projects a little over the lower. Externally it has a single spiracle. The full grown have generally twenty-two to twenty-four teeth in each jaw, and when the mouth is shut, the teeth lock between one another like the teeth of a trap. The tail is about five feet broad, the dorsal fin about fifteen inches high, cartilaginous, and immovable.

This kind of dolphin sometimes appears in large herds off the Orkney, Shetland, and Feroe islands. The main body of the herd follows the leading whales, and from this property the animal is called in Shetland the ca’ing whale, and by Dr. Traill the deductor. Many herds of this animal have been driven on shore at different periods, and it is recorded that there were taken in two places in the year 1664 about a thousand; and in modern times extensive slaughters have taken place on the shores of the British and other northern islands.

The Delphinapterus beluga of La Cepède, Delphinus Leucas of Linnæus, Beluga of Pennant, or white whale of the fishers, is the last of the cetacea to which we shall refer. It is not unlike the narwal in its general form, but is thicker about the middle of its body in proportion to its length. Both jaws are furnished with teeth. It has no dorsal fin. The skin is smooth, the colour white. A male animal of this kind was taken in the Frith of Forth in June, 1815. The length was thirteen feet four inches, and the greatest circumference nine feet. The beluga is generally met with in families or herds of five or ten together. They are plentiful in Hudson’s Bay, Davis’s Strait, and on some parts of the northern coasts of Europe and Asia, where they frequent some of the larger rivers. They are taken for the sake of the oil they produce by harpoons or strong nets; in the latter case, the nets are extended across the stream, so as to prevent their escape out of the river, and when thus interrupted in their course to seaward, they are attacked with lances, and great numbers are sometimes killed.

It is now our purpose to give an account of the quadrupeds which inhabit Spitzbergen and the icy seas adjacent.

The connecting link between the mammalia of the land and the water is Trichecus rosmarus, walrus, morse, or sea-horse of the whale-fishers. It corresponds in several of its characters both with the bullock and the whale. It grows to the bulk of an ox. Its canine teeth, two in number, are of the length externally of ten to twenty inches, (some naturalists say three feet,) and extend downward from the upper jaw, and include the point of the lower jaw between them. They are incurvated inward. Their full length when cut out of the skull is commonly fifteen to twenty inches, sometimes almost thirty, and their weight five to ten pounds each or upward. The walrus being a slow clumsy animal on land, its tusk seems necessary for its defence against the bear, and also for enabling it to raise its unwieldy body upon the ice when its access to the shore is prevented.

The walrus is found on the shores of Spitzbergen twelve to fifteen feet in length, and eight to ten feet in circumference. The head is short, small, and flattened in front. The flattened part of the face is set with strong bristles. The nostrils are on the upper part of the snout, through which it blows like a whale. The fore paws, which are a kind of webbed hand, are two-sevenths of the full length of the animal from the snout. They are from two to two and a half feet in length, and being expansive maybe stretched to the breadth of fifteen to eighteen inches. The hind feet, which form a sort of tail fin, extend straight backward. They are not united, but detached from each other. The length of each is about two to two and a half feet; the breadth, when fully extended, two and a half or three feet; the termination of each toe is marked by a small tail.

The skin of the walrus is about an inch thick, and it is covered with a short, yellowish brown coloured hair. The inside of the paws in old animals is defended by a rough, horny kind of casing, a quarter of an inch thick, probably produced by the hardening of the skin in consequence of coarse usage in climbing over ice and rocks.

Beneath the skin is a thin layer of fat. At some seasons the produce is said to be considerable, but I have never met with any that afforded above twenty or thirty gallons of oil. In the stomachs of walruses I have met with shrimps, a kind of craw-fish, and the remains of young seals.

It is not at all improbable that the walrus has afforded foundation for some of the stories of mermaids. I have myself seen a sea-horse in such a position, that it requires little stretch of imagination to mistake it for a human being; so like, indeed, was it, that the surgeon of the ship actually reported to me that he had seen a man with his head just appearing above the surface of the water.

The walrus is a fearless animal. It pays no regard to a boat, excepting as an object of curiosity. It is sometimes taken by a harpoon when in the water. If one attack fails, it often affords an opportunity for repeating it. The capture cannot be always accomplished without danger, for, as they go in herds, an attack made upon one individual draws all its companions to its defence. In such cases they frequently rally round the boat from which the blow was struck, pierce its planks with their tusks, and, though resisted in the most determined manner, sometimes raise themselves upon the gunwale, and threaten to overset it. The best defence against these enraged animals is, in such a crisis, sea-sand, which, being thrown into their eyes, occasions a partial blindness, and obliges them to disperse. When on shore they are best killed with long sharp-pointed knives.

The tusks of the walrus, which are hard, white, and compact ivory, are employed by dentists in the fabrication of false teeth. The skin is used in place of mats for defending the yards and rigging of ships from being chafed by friction against each other. When cut into shreds and plaited into cordage, it answers admirably for wheel-ropes, being stronger and wearing much longer than hemp. In ancient times, most of the ropes of ships, in northern countries at least, would appear to have been made of this substance. When tanned, it is converted into a soft porous leather, above an inch in thickness, but it is by no means so useful or so durable as in its green or raw state.

As early as the ninth century, we have accounts of the walrus being extensively fished for on the western coast of Norway. Prior to the institution of the Spitzbergen whale-fishery, the capture of this animal was an object of some commercial importance. It was at first attacked by the English, on Cherie Island, but being driven from thence, if not extirpated in that quarter, by the great slaughter that was carried on, it was then pursued to Spitzbergen. The earliest attacks made on it were very unsuccessful, but experience rendered the assailants more skilful, and, in one voyage, nine hundred or one thousand sea-horses were killed in less than seven hours. The Russians now, rather than the British, are their enemies.

With the exception of the head, the general form of the walrus is similar to the next animal which we describe, the phoca, or seal.

Several species of seals occur in the Greenland Sea, and resort to the ice in the neighbourhood of Spitzbergen and Jan Mayen, in immense herds; but, as the seal frequents the British coast, and is a well-described and well-known animal, I shall not particularize the well-known species that are met with in the Arctic Seas. Some few general observations only will be necessary.

Seals are generally fat in the spring of the year, and afford several gallons of blubber; even small seals will then yield about four or five gallons of oil. The voice of the young seal when in pain or distress is a whining cry, resembling that of a child. They appear to hear well under water; music, or particularly a person whistling, draws them to the surface, and induces them to stretch their necks to the utmost extent, so as to prove a snare by bringing them within reach of the shooter. The most effectual way of shooting them is by the use of small shot, fired into their eyes; when killed with a bullet they generally sink, and are lost. Seals are often seen on their passage from one situation to another in very large shoals. Their general conduct in such cases is such as to amuse spectators, and the sailors call such a shoal a “seal’s wedding.” The feet of seals are better adapted for motion in the water than on land. They feed on birds, crabs, and small fishes, and are very tenacious of life.

The uses of the seal are various, and to some nations highly important. It yields train-oil, and its skin is extensively employed in making shoes, and, when dressed with the hair, in covering trunks. To the Esquimaux the seal is everything. Its flesh is food, its fat gives light, and its skin, dressed so as to be waterproof, is used for covering for boats and tents, and for garments.

The Phoca vitulina is the common species in the Greenland Sea, especially near Jan Mayen. The hooded seal is common near Spitzbergen. The latter is longer than the former, and is said to grow to the length of ten or twelve feet. It is also much more formidable. Seals are not fond of the water, but, when on the ice, are extremely watchful, and secure their retreat either by reclining at the edge or by keeping a hole in the ice open for them. The young ones, however, are not so wary as the old folks. The best situation for the seal-fishery in the Arctic Sea is in the vicinity of Jan Mayen, and the best season March and April. The capture of the seal is the work of a moment. A blow with a seal-club on the nose immediately stuns it, and affords opportunity of making a prize of many at a time. Ships fitted out for the whale-fishery have accidentally obtained in April from two thousand to three thousand seals, and sometimes more; and vessels sent out for seal-fishery only, four thousand or five thousand, yielding nearly one hundred tons of oil. From the ports of the Elbe and Weser a number of sealers are annually dispatched, but few comparatively on this pursuit alone sail from Britain.

Of the dangers of the seal-fishery, arising from the liability to heavy storms at the season and in the place where seals are taken, the following narrative will furnish full illustration.

Fifty-four ships, chiefly Hamburghers, were, in the year 1774, fitted out for seal-fishery alone from foreign ports. In the spring of the year they met with several English ships on the borders of the ice, about sixty miles to the eastward of the island of Jan Mayen. While the boats of the fleet were in search for seals, a dreadful storm suddenly arose. Almost all the people who were at a distance from the ships perished. The Duke of York, captain Peters, had two boats at that time down. The crews of these by great exertion rowed up to the ship, got hold of the rudder rings, but were unable to make their way alongside; they held fast for some time, but the sea was too strong for them, and they lost their hold and fell astern. The chief-mate of the ship, seeing that they were too exhausted to recover their position, determined to attempt their rescue at the peril of his own life. He manned a boat with six stout seamen beside himself, and went to their assistance. On reaching them he exchanged four of his vigorous crew for two of the fainting men in each boat. Thus reinforced, the three boats, by the exertions of their crews, were brought to the stern of the ship; but while in this critical situation, a sea struck the boats, filled and overwhelmed them, on which the whole of their crews, nineteen men, perished. This was only a portion of the disasters of the storm. One ship foundered in a heavy surge, and all hands were lost. Another was wrecked on the ice, and all hands perished. Many boats and men were washed from several others, and the results were that about four hundred foreign seamen, and two hundred British, were drowned, four or five ships lost, and scarcely any escaped without damage.

To all those who navigate the treacherous ocean, especially to such as do business in such dangerous waters, it ought to be of more than ordinary importance to live in a continued preparation for death and judgment, and to be the servants of that God who

“—— rides upon the stormy sky

And manages the seas.”

Beneath his care the mariner is safe, and whether from the abysses of its ancient caves, or the foundations of its lofty icebergs, the sea must surrender unto eternal life the bodies of the disciples of Jesus.

The Arctic fox, Canis lagopus, is an animal known to those who winter in Spitzbergen, though seldom seen by the whale-fishers. They are rarely found on the ice, though I have often found their impressions on the snow. They are of a white colour, and not easily distinguished.

A more remarkable animal is the Polar or Greenland bear, Ursus maritimus. He is the sovereign of the quadrupeds of the Arctic countries. He is powerful and courageous; savage and sagacious; apparently clumsy, yet not inactive. His senses are extremely acute, especially his sight and smell. As he traverses extensive fields of ice, he mounts the hummocks and looks for prey, and on rearing his head and snuffing the breeze, he can perceive the scent of the carrion of the whale at an immense distance. Seals are his usual food, but from their watchfulness he is often obliged to fast. He is as much at home on the ice as on the land, and is found on field-ice above two hundred miles from shore. He can swim with the velocity of three miles an hour, and can dive to a considerable distance.

Bears occur in Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Greenland, and other Arctic countries, throughout the year. In some places, they are met with in great numbers. By means of the ice, they often effect a landing on Iceland, but as soon as they appear, they are generally attacked by the inhabitants and destroyed. On the east coast of Greenland, they have appeared like flocks of sheep on a common.

The size of the bear is generally four or five feet in height, seven or eight in length, and nearly as much in circumference. Sometimes, however, the size is much larger. His paws are seven inches in breadth, and his claws two inches in length. His canine teeth, exclusive of the part in the jaw, are about an inch and a half in length. He has been known by the strength of his jaw to bite a lance in two, though made of iron half an inch in diameter. In the water he can be captured without much danger, but on land the experiment is hazardous. When pursued and attacked, he turns upon his enemies. He always, however, unless urged by hunger, retreats before men. His general walk is slow, but upon the ice he can easily outrun any man. If struck with a lance, he is apt to seize it in his mouth, and either bite it in two, or wrest it out of the hand. If shot with a ball, unless he is struck in the head, in the heart, or in the shoulder, he is enraged rather than depressed, and falls with increased power upon his pursuers. When shot at a distance, and able to escape, he has been observed to retire to the shelter of a hummock, and, as if conscious of the styptical effect of cold, apply snow with his paws to the wound.

The bear feeds on the kreng, or carcases of the whales, as they are left by the fishers; on seals, birds, foxes, and deer, when it can surprise them; on eggs, and indeed on any animal substance that comes within its power. The skin of the bear, when dressed with the hair on, forms beautiful mats for a hall or for the bottom of a carriage. Prepared without being ripped up, and the hairy side turned inward, it forms a very warm sack bed, and is used as such in some parts of Greenland. The flesh, when cleared of the fat, is well flavoured and savoury, especially the muscular part of the ham. I once treated my surgeon with a dinner of bears ham, and he did not know for above a month afterwards, but that it was beefsteak. The liver is very unwholesome.

Bears are remarkably affectionate towards their young, and peculiarly sagacious. The female has generally two at a birth. On one occasion, a mother bear with two cubs was pursued across a field of ice by a party of armed sailors. At first, she urged her young ones to increase their speed, but finding the pursuers gaining on them, she carried or pushed or pitched them alternately forward, until she effected their escape. The little creatures are said to have placed themselves across her path to receive her impulse, and when thrown forward they ran on till she overtook them, when they adjusted themselves for a second throw.

Many instances have been observed of the peculiar sagacity of these animals. A seal, lying on the middle of a large piece of ice, with a hole just before it, was marked out by a bear for its prey, and secured by the artifice of diving under the ice, and making its way to the hole by which the seal was prepared to retreat. The seal, however, observed its approach, and plunged into the water, but the bear instantly sprang upon it, and appeared in about a minute afterwards with the seal in its mouth.

The captain of one of the whalers being anxious to procure a bear without wounding the skin, made trial of the stratagem of laying the noose of a rope in the snow, and placing a piece of kreng within it. A bear, ranging the neighbouring ice, was soon enticed to the spot by the smell of burning meat. He perceived the bait, approached, and seized it in his mouth, but his foot, at the same moment, by a jerk of the rope being entangled in the noose, he pushed it off with the adjoining paw, and deliberately retired. After having eaten the piece he carried away with him he returned. The noose, with another piece of kreng, being then replaced, he pushed the rope aside, and again walked triumphantly off with the kreng. A third time the noose was laid, and this time the rope was buried in the snow and the bait laid in a deep hole dug in the centre. But Bruin, after snuffing about the place for a few minutes, scraped the snow away with his paw, threw the rope aside, and escaped unhurt with his prize.

In the month of June, 1812, a female bear, with two cubs, approached the ship I commanded, and was shot. The cubs, not attempting to escape, were taken alive. These animals, though at first evidently very unhappy, became at length, in some measure, reconciled to their situation, and being tolerably tame, were allowed occasionally to go at large about the deck. While the ship was moored to a floe, a few days after they were taken, one of them, having a rope fastened round its neck, was thrown overboard. It immediately swam to the ice, got upon it, and attempted to escape. Finding itself, however, detained by the rope, it endeavoured to disengage itself in the following ingenious way:—Near the edge of the floe was a crack in the ice, of considerable length, but only eighteen inches or two feet wide, and three or four feet deep. To this spot the bear returned; and when, on crossing the chasm, the bight of the rope fell into it, he placed himself across the opening; then, suspending himself by his hind feet, with a leg on each side, he dropped his head and most of his body into the chasm, and, with a foot applied to each side of the neck, attempted for some minutes to push the rope over his head. Finding this scheme ineffectual, he removed to the main ice, and running with great impetuosity from the ship, gave a remarkable pull on the rope; then, going backward a few steps, he repeated the jerk. At length, after repeated attempts to escape this way, every failure of which he announced by a significant growl, he yielded himself to his hard necessity, and lay down on the ice in angry and sullen silence.

Accidents with bears occasionally occur; not so many, however, as the ferocity of these animals, and the temerity of the sailors, might lead one to expect. Some of the early voyagers to the Polar Seas had hard conflicts with them. Barentz’s crew especially were often in danger from them, but always succeeded either in conquering or repelling them. Two, however, of the crew of a vessel which had anchored near Nova Zembla, landed on an island at the mouth of the Weigats, and, impelled by curiosity, wandered some distance from the beach; but, whilst unconscious of danger, one of them was suddenly seized on the back by a bear, and brought to the earth. His companion ran off, and gave the alarm, and a party of his shipmates came to their assistance. The bear stood over its prey during their approach without the least appearance of fear and, on their attack, sprang upon one of their number, and made him also a victim to its ferocity and power. The rest now fled in confusion, and could not be induced to renew the conflict. Three sailors only among the crew had sufficient courage to combat with this formidable animal; they attacked it, and, after a dangerous struggle, killed it, and rescued the mangled bodies of their two unfortunate shipmates.

Captain Cook, of the Archangel, of Lynn, being near the coast of Spitzbergen, in the year 1788, landed, accompanied by his surgeon and mate. While traversing the shore, the captain was unexpectedly attacked by a bear, which seized him in an instant between its paws. At this awful juncture, when a moment’s pause must have been fatal to him, he called to his surgeon to fire; who, with admirable resolution and steadiness, discharged his piece as directed, and providentially shot the bear through the head. The captain, by this prompt assistance, was preserved from being torn to pieces.

On a more recent occasion, a commander of a whale ship was in a similar danger. Captain Hawkins, of the Everthorpe, of Hull, when in Davis’s Strait, in July, 1818, seeing a very large bear, took a boat, and pushed off in pursuit of it. On reaching it, the captain struck it twice with a lance in the breast; and, while in the act of recovering his weapon for another blow, the enraged animal sprang up, and seized him by the thigh, and threw him over its head into the water. Fortunately it did not repeat its attack, but exerted itself to escape. This exertion, when the attention of every one was directed towards their captain, was not made in vain, for it was allowed to swim away without further molestation.

With regard to curious adventures, on one occasion a bear, which was attacked by a boat’s crew, made such formidable resistance, that it was enabled to climb the side of the boat and take possession of it, while the intimidated crew fled for safety to the water, supporting themselves by the gunwale and rings of the boat, until, by the assistance of another party from the ship it was shot, as it sat inoffensively in the stern. With regard to narrow escapes, a sailor, who was pursued on a field of ice by a bear, when at a considerable distance from assistance, preserved his life by throwing down an article of clothing whenever the bear gained upon him, on which it always suspended the pursuit until it had examined it, and thus gave him time to obtain some advance. In this way, by means of a hat, a jacket, and a neckerchief, successively cast down, the progress of the bear was retarded, and the sailor escaped from the danger that threatened him, in the refuge afforded him by his vessel.

The rein-deer, Cervus tarandus, deserves to be mentioned amongst the quadrupeds of the Arctic regions. I have never seen one myself, though it is known to inhabit almost every part of Spitzbergen.

Our remarks must now be directed to the Birds which frequent the sea and coast of Spitzbergen.

The brent goose and eider duck, Anas bernicla and Anas mollissima, are found in these regions; the former occurring in considerable numbers near the coast of Greenland, but not in Spitzbergen, and the latter frequenting all the islands in the Greenland Sea. The puffin, or Greenland parrot, Alca arctica, feeding on shrimps, is rarely seen out of sight of land, but is very common near the coast of Spitzbergen. Alca alle, also, the little auk or roach, is an extremely numerous species in some situations in the Polar Seas. They occur in the water in thousands together, and sometimes in like abundance on the pieces of ice. They dive quickly on being alarmed, and on the approach of thick weather they are particularly noisy.

The fulmar, Procellaria glacialis, is the constant companion of the whale-fisher. It joins his ship immediately on passing the Shetland Islands, and accompanies it through the trackless ocean to the highest accessible latitudes. It keeps an eager watch for anything thrown overboard; the smallest particle of fatty substance can scarcely escape it. As such, a hook baited with a piece of fat meat or blubber, and towed by a long twine over the ship’s stern, is a means employed by the sailor-boys for taking them. In the spring of the year, before they have glutted themselves with the fat of the whale, they are pretty good eating. They are remarkably easy and swift on the wing, and can fly to windward in the highest storms. Though very few fulmars should be seen when a whale is about being captured, yet, as soon as the flensing commences, they rush in from all quarters, and seize, with great audacity, all the pieces of fat that come in their way. They frequently glut themselves so completely as to be unable to fly, in which case, when not relieved by a quantity being disgorged, they rest on the ice until restored by digestion. The fulmar is a bold and very hardy bird. Its feathers being thick, it is not easily killed with a blow. Its bite, from the crookedness, strength, and sharpness of its bill, is very severe. Fulmars differ in colour; some are a dirty grey, others much paler, and totally white on the breast and belly. In size this bird is a little smaller than a duck. Beneath its feathers is a thick bed of fine grey down. When carrion is scarce, the fulmar sometimes points out the whale to the fisher by following in its track. They cannot make much impression on the dead whale until some more powerful animal tears away the skin.

The tysté, or doveca, Colymbus grylle, is a beautifully formed bird, occurring in considerable numbers in icy situations, at various distances from land. It is so watchful, and so quick at diving, that, if fired at without precaution to conceal the flash of the powder, it generally escapes the shot. It feeds on shrimps and small fishes. The common colour is black, but the feet are all red.

Almost equally common with the preceding is the Colymbus troile, a clumsy bird, weighing two pounds or upwards, and measuring only sixteen or seventeen inches in length, and twenty-eight inches across the wings, when full spread, in breadth. It cannot rise on the wing in any direction except to windward. If it attempts to fly to leeward, it runs for a considerable distance along the surface of the water, and at length falls into it. Both in this instance and that of the doveca, shortness of tail is compensated for by the feet, which are used as a rudder in flying. The Colymbus glacialis was seen by captain Phipps on the coast of Spitzbergen.

The sea-swallow, or great tern, Sterna hirundo, is an elegant bird, common on the shore of Spitzbergen, but is not met with at a distance from land. Its length is seven or eight inches, and including the tail fourteen, and the spread of its wings twenty-nine or thirty inches. It flies with great ease and swiftness, and to a considerable height. It defends its eggs and young with great boldness from the Arctic gull, and even descends within a yard of the head of any person who ventures to molest them, startling him with its loud screams. It lays its eggs among the shingle of the beach above high-water mark, where the full power of the sun falls.

There are several varieties of the gull tribe. The kittywake, Larus rissa, is seen in every part of the northern Atlantic from Britain to the highest latitudes. It is a better fisher than its enemy, the Arctic gull, Larus parasiticus, by whom it is pursued until it gives up the food it has procured. The latter kind of gull lives at the expense of its neighbours, preying upon their eggs and their young. Larus crepidatus and Larus eburneus are other varieties. The latter, remarkable for its immaculate whiteness, is as ravenous as the fulmar. Larus glaucus, burgomaster, is the chief magistrate of the feathered tribe in the Spitzbergen regions, as none of its class dare dispute its authority, or refuse at its bidding to surrender their prey. It is a large and powerful bird, twenty-eight inches in length, and five inches in breadth across the wings. The kittywake, snow-bird, and burgomaster, are sometimes shot for the sake of their feathers. The two latter species are very shy. They are shot with the greatest ease, however, from a house built of snow on the ice. The Tringa hypoleucos, sandpiper, and the Emberiza nivalis, snow-bunting, are inhabitants also of these regions. A bird of great delicacy and smallness is Fringilla linaria, the lesser redpole. On our approach to Spitzbergen, several of this species alighted on the ship, and were, apparently, so wearied by flight that they allowed themselves to be taken alive. It is difficult to understand how this small bird manages to perform the journey from Spitzbergen to a milder climate, without becoming exhausted and perishing by the way.

The Amphibia, Fishes, Animalcules, etc., must conclude our sketch of the zoology of the Arctic regions.

In the class Amphibia, the most notable personage is the Greenland shark, Squalus borealis. It has not, I believe, been described. The ventral fins are separate. It is without anal fin, but has the temporal opening, and it belongs, therefore, to the third division of the genus. The spiracles on the neck are five in number on each side. The colour is cinereous grey. The eyes are the most extraordinary part of the animal. The pupil is emerald green, the rest of the eye blue. To the posterior edge of the pupil is attached a white vermiform substance, one or two inches in length. Each extremity of it consists of two filaments, but the central part is single. The sailors imagine this shark is blind, because it pays not the least attention to the presence of a man, and is, indeed, so apparently stupid, that it never draws back when a blow is aimed at it with a knife or a lance. It is twelve or fourteen feet in length, and six or eight feet in circumference, and in general form very much resembles the dog-fish. It is one of the foes of the whale. It bites and annoys it when living, and feeds on it when dead. With its teeth, which are serrated in one jaw, and lancet-shaped and denticulated in the other, it scoops out of the body of the whale pieces as large as a person’s head, and continues scooping and gorging till its belly is filled. It is so insensible to pain that, though run through the body with a knife, it will return to its food, and for some hours after its heart is taken out, or its body cut in pieces, they will continue to show signs of life. It does not, so far as I am aware, attack the fishers.

In the class Pisces, Gadus carbonarius, the coal-fish, was procured by captain Phipps, as also of the former class, Cyclopterus liparis, during his stay in the vicinity of Spitzbergen. Mullus barbatus was taken out of the mouth of a seal by a seaman, near Spitzbergen. It was boiled by our officers, and proved an excellent dish.

In the class Articulata are one or two species of gammarus. The G. arcticus of Leach, the actions of which suggest as a familiar name, the mountebank shrimp. There are also various crabs, and the Oniscus ceti of Linnæus, or whale’s louse. This little animal is about half an inch in diameter, and firmly fixes itself by hooked claws on the skin of the mysticetus. It is found under the fin, and wherever the skin is tender, and it is not likely to be dislodged. A similar animal, though smaller, is found on the body of the narwal.

In the class Vermes are several species found in various animals inhabiting the northern seas. The sea-snail, Clio helicina, is an animal covered with a delicately beautiful sheet, similar to that of the nautilus. The diameter is from two-eighths to three-eighths of an inch. It is found in great quantities near the coast of Spitzbergen. The Clio borealis occurs in vast numbers in some situations near Spitzbergen, but is not found generally in the Arctic Seas. In swimming, it brings the tips of its fins almost into contact, first oil one side and then on another. I kept several of them alive in a glass of sea-water for about, a month, when they gradually wasted away and died.

The cuttle-fish, Sepia, were found by me in large numbers in the stomachs of the narwals.

More than six or seven kinds of Medusæ may be distinguished, among which may be named, Medusa pileus, and the purse-shaped, bottle-shaped, and orange-coloured medusæ. Medusa pileus is one of the most curious of the tribe. It consists of eight lobes, with a beautiful, irridescent, finny fringe on the external edge of each. A canal, four-fifths the length of the animal, penetrates the centre of it, and two red cirrhi, which may be extended to the length of nearly a foot, proceed from a crooked cavity in opposite sides. The animal is semi-transparent, the colour white, and the finny fringes of deeper red. It is found of various sizes.

The substance of the purse-shaped medusa is tougher than that of any other species which I have examined. It has one large open cavity, and is divided by the finny fringes into eight segments, each alternate pair of which are similar. The colour is a pale crimson, with waved purple lines, and the finny fringes deeper crimson. The animal appeared to be almost without sensation. The only evidence it gave of feeling was in an increased vibration of the finny fringes. Though it was cut into pieces, each portion on which there was any of the fringe continued, by its incessant play, to give evidence of life during two or three days, after which it became putrescent, and began to waste away. I have only seen one specimen of this and of the orange-coloured medusa. The colour of the latter was a brilliant orange, and it was not transparent. It was not tenacious of life, having died, to appearance, soon after it was taken.

The Greenland Sea, frozen and extensive as it is, teems with life. The variety of the animal creation is not, indeed, very great, but the quantity of some of the species that occur is truly immense. The minute medusæ and animalcules, throughout the Spitzbergen Sea, would exceed all the powers of the mind to conceive. These little creatures constitute the food of the largest animals in the creation. The common whale feeds on medusæ, sepiæ, cancri, actiniæ, etc., and these feed, probably, on the minor medusæ animalcules. The fin-whales and dolphins feed principally on herrings and other small fishes. These subsist on the smaller cancri, medusæ, and animalcules. The bear’s most general food is the seal; the seal subsists on the cancri and small fishes, and these on lesser animals of the tribe, or on the minor medusæ and animalcules. Thus the whole of the larger animals depend on these minute beings, which, until the year 1816, when I first entered on the examination of the sea-water, were not, I believe, known to exist in the Polar Seas.

The manner in which these minute animals are preserved, in a sea which is surrounded by an atmosphere ten or twelve degrees in mean temperature below the freezing point of salt water, is curious and interesting, and illustrates the combined wisdom and goodness of the Lawgiver of these icy regions, as well as of the entire globe. If the water of the sea were stationary, the temperature of the atmosphere would soon freeze it to the very bottom, and destroy all these minute animals, who have not either instinct or power of motion to retire into a more southern region. A current, however, is provided, setting towards the south-west, which carries away the ice into a parallel where it can be dissolved, and creates a circulation of water into the frozen regions from a warmer climate; while therefore the superficial current is carrying away the ice, an under-current, in a contrary direction, is bringing in warmth beneath. But how, it may be asked, does it happen that the minor medusæ are not carried away into the southern region? It is no violation of commonly received principles to suppose, that whenever the medusæ are carried to some extent southward, they sink in the water until they reach the stream of the under-current, and are by it conveyed to their proper element. The fact that the olive-green water of the sea maintains a similar position for years together, while surface after surface of ice is carried away and dissipated, is in support of this conjecture. Thus, by a most beautiful contrivance, a large portion of the surface of the globe is rendered habitable, which would otherwise be a solid mass of ice, and the Polar Sea affords a dwelling-place for many tribes of animals most useful in supplying the wants, and contributing to the comfort, of man.

It is not only, therefore, in those regions where

“Spices breathe and milder seasons smile,”

but even in the laws of a less genial climate, that we are called upon to observe His eternal power and godhead, who gives the bounties of his providence to the just and the unjust, and pleads with us, in the gospel of his Son, that we should be reconciled to him. The mighty whale, the ephemeral insect, and the minute animalcule, all the productions of his power and skill, have their wants supplied by his laws, and are subject to his control. In these he displays the strength of his arm, and the adaptations of his wisdom, but in man, redeemed and sanctified, “the exceeding riches of his grace.” Happy, indeed, are we, if whilst, with the ancient psalmist, we can proclaim that the earth is full of the goodness of the Lord, “who gathereth the waters of the sea together as an heap,” and “layeth up the depth in store-houses,” we can also, without presumption, through our union with the great heir of all things, the Lord Jesus, and by the merit of his life and death, honestly declare all things are ours, whether ... the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come, all are ours, and we are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s.

[CHAPTER VI.]

EXPEDITIONS FOR FURTHER DISCOVERY.

Having now completed the account of the Arctic Regions, as given by captain Scoresby, it may be interesting to the reader to have a brief statement of some of the principal expeditions for further discovery down to the present time.

In 1819, lieutenant Parry sailed with the Hecla and Griper. The object of his expedition was to examine the great and open bay, known as sir J. Lancaster’s Sound; and, in case of failure, the Sound of alderman Jones, and that of sir T. Smith. On the 1st of August, the ships entered the Sound of sir J. Lancaster, and ran quickly up it, finding no land across the bottom of the inlet, but arriving at a strait, which they named Barrow’s Strait, and a magnificent opening into which it led, Wellington Channel. On the 4th of September, the expedition crossed the meridian of 110° west longitude, in latitude 74° 44′, becoming entitled to a reward of £5,000. They anchored, and put into winter-quarters at Melville Island, losing sight of the sun from 11th November till the 3rd of February, when it became once more visible from the Hecla’s main-top. With the greatest difficulty, they managed to escape from the ice during the months of August and September, arriving at the Orkneys 28th October, 1820.

The second voyage of Parry was with the Fury and Hecla. His instructions were to proceed towards, or into, Hudson’s Strait, to penetrate to the westward through that strait, until he should reach some portion of the coast of the continent of America. The object was to discover a way westward from the Atlantic into the Pacific Ocean. The vessels left the Nore 8th May, 1821, and arrived at Resolution Island, at the entrance of Hudson’s Strait, on 2nd July, attempted the direct passage through the Frozen Strait, and passed through it into Repulse Bay. From it no passage was found to the west, and the ships, after beating about to no profit, were compelled to winter near Lyon’s Inlet. Here the dreariness of the winter was relieved by interviews with the inhabitants, who were found to be intelligent and honest. On 2nd July, the ships left their winter-quarters, and, after being exposed to the most fearful dangers, arrived at a strait, called by Parry, the Strait of the Fury and Hecla, and believed by him to be an opening into the Polar Sea. The ships again went into winter-quarters, and were frozen in until late in the following year, but arrived at Lerwick on October 10th, 1823.

The same ships, under the same commander, sailed on a third expedition in May, 1824, having for its object to penetrate through Lancaster Sound, Barrow’s Strait, and Prince Regent’s Inlet, to the westward. Through detention by the ice, they did not arrive at Lancaster Sound till 10th September, and went into winter-quarters on the 27th, in Prince Regent’s Inlet, at Port Bowen. On the breaking up of the ice, they explored, southerly, close to the westward shore; but by the accidents to which they were exposed, they were compelled to abandon the Fury, with her stores, and the Hecla only returned to England.

In 1827, captain Parry proposed to reach the North Pole by means of travelling with sledge-boats over the ice. Two boats were constructed for the purpose, the one to be commanded by Parry, the other by lieutenant Ross. They proceeded in the Hecla to Spitzbergen, and there left the ship, starting in their sledge-boats with seventy-one days’ provisions. They travelled by night rather than by day; found the ice very rough, and in some places tender; and after experiencing great difficulties, arrived only at latitude 82° 45′, and were compelled to abandon the undertaking as hopeless.

Captain John Franklin received instructions to explore the northern coast of America, from the mouth of Copper Mine River to the eastward. He sailed on 22nd May, 1819, in a ship of the Hudson’s Bay Company. They arrived at York Factory, in Hudson’s Bay, on 30th August. Their route was to be by Cumberland House, and through a chain of posts to the Great Slave Lake. At Cumberland House, it was arranged that Franklin and others should proceed at once on to the Athobasca department, to the northward of the Great Slave Lake, and that the rest of the party should follow in the spring. The place of meeting was Fort Chepewyan, eight hundred and fifty-seven miles from Cumberland House; and, by the 20th August, they had advanced to Fort Enterprise, five hundred and fifty miles from Chepewyan. Here they wintered, and were exposed to awful hardships; but, on the arrival of the spring, they prosecuted their journey down the Copper Mine River, reaching the Polar Sea on the 18th July. They then navigated the coast to the eastward, in their canoes, exploring Coronation Gulf. They attempted to return by Hood’s River, and across the land to Point Lake. After being exposed to the most dreadful sufferings, they regained their winter-stations, at Fort Enterprise, and returned to England.

Notwithstanding the perils and hardships which had already befallen them, captain Franklin and his companions, Dr. Richardson and lieutenant Back, undertook a second expedition over the same country, and left Liverpool 16th February, 1825, arriving at Fort Chepewyan as early as 15th July. They then descended Mackenzie River to the sea. Dividing themselves into two parties, they explored the coast east and west, and the expedition returned home 24th September, 1827.

Other voyages are those of Ross, of Back, first and second, and of Dease and Simpson, two officers of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who surveyed, in 1839, the remainder of the western coast which had been left by Franklin. Dr. John Rae was dispatched by the Hudson’s Bay Company in July, 1846, to survey the unexplored portion of the Arctic coast at the north-eastern angle of the American continent, and returned successfully in October, 1847.

An important expedition for discovery in the North Polar regions, the termination of which is yet awaited with serious anxiety, left England under sir John Franklin in July, 1845. The ships were victualled for only three full years, which expired during the summer of this year. Three expeditions have been sent in search of the lost travellers. One departed early in February, 1848, for Behring’s Strait; a second, which sailed in the spring, under sir J. Ross, has been heard of as having reached Disco Island on the 2nd July; and a third, under sir John Richardson, accompanied by Dr. Rae, left in March to proceed overland, and arrived at Lake Superior on 29th of April. A report has very recently come in from the Esquimaux of their having seen “two large boats, full of white men, to the east of the Mackenzie river;” and sir J. Ross has been spoken with by a whaler on the east side of Baffin’s Bay, in latitude 74° 20′; but no tidings to relieve the public anxiety have been received to the close of 1848, concerning the fate of sir J. Franklin and his companions.

THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY: INSTITUTED 1799

Transcriber’s Note
Hyphenation has been retained as published in the original publication.
Pg [57] Changed Magdalena Bay to Magdalen Bay
Pg [76] Removed quote before: From this remarkable sea
Pg [156] Changed of La Cèpede, to Cepède
Pg [158] Changed according to Egède, to Egedé