CHAPTER XI.
A GREEN SPOT.
WE seemed now to be in a safe resting-place. Dr. Hayes and Mr. Bonsall, accompanied by John and Godfrey, took the advantage of this security to go in search of the life-boat, which they judged was not more than two miles away.
After a walk over the floe of one hour they found it. It had not been disturbed, and the articles deposited under it were in good order. There were, besides the oars and sails, two barrels of bread, a barrel of pork, and one of beef; thirty pounds of rice, thirty pounds of sugar, a saucepan, an empty keg, a gallon can of alcohol, a bale of blankets, an ice anchor, an ice chisel, a gun, a hatchet, a few small poles, and some pieces of wood. They took of these a barrel of bread, the saucepan filled with sugar, a small quantity of rice, the gun, the hatchet, and the boat's equipments. They were to carry this cargo, and drag the life-boat, back to the camp, unless a fortunate lead should enable them to take to the boat.
They ascended a hill, before starting, to get a view of the present state of the fickle ice. All was fast in the direct line through which they came. But, a mile away, washing a piece of the shore of Littleton Island, was open water. They concluded to push forward in that direction, and wait the coming of their companions in the "Hope."
They reached this open water in six hours—a slow march of one mile—but it must be remembered that they had to carry their cargo, piece by piece, then go back and draw along the boat, thus going over the distance many times. Besides, they had to climb the hummocks with their load, and lower it down the other side and tumble about generally over the rough way.
The island thus reached was three fourths of a mile in diameter. They landed in a tumultuous sea, which only a life-boat could survive. There was no good hiding-place from the storm, which was increasing. They were completely wet by the spray, and ready to faint with cold and hunger. In a crevice of the rock a fire was kindled, the saucepan half filled with sea water, and an eider duck John had knocked over with his oar was put into it to stew. To this was added four biscuit from the bread barrel. The hot meal thus cooked refreshed them, but it was their only refreshment. Bonsall and Godfrey crept under the sail taken from the boat, and, from sheer exhaustion, fell asleep. John and Dr. Hayes sought warmth in a run about the island. Dr. Hayes wandered to a rocky point, which commanded a view of the channel between the island and the "Hope." He watched every object, expecting to see her and her crew adrift. He had not watched long before a dark object was seen upon a whirling ice-raft. After a close and careful second look, he saw that it was John. He called but received no answer. John's raft now touched the floe and away he went, jumping the fearful cracks, and disappearing in the darkness. What could inspire so reckless an adventure? Had he seen the "Hope" in peril, and was this a manly effort to save her and his comrades? He was going in the direction in which he had left them.
Bonsall and Godfrey were soon frozen out of their comfortless tent, and joined Dr. Hayes on the rocky point. They took places of observation a short distance apart, and watched with intense anxiety both for the "Hope" and John. The morning came, the sea grew less wild, and the wind subsided, but nothing was seen of the boat.
Leaving Dr. Hayes and his party thus watching on the island, we will glance at the experience of those of us who were left in the camp.
Soon after they left, the wind and the waves played free and wild. The spray wet our clothes, buffaloes, and blankets, as it flew past us in dense clouds. Our bread-bag, wrapped in an india rubber cloth, was kept dry. We pitched our tent in the safest place possible, but were driven out by the increasing deluge of spray. We tried to cook our supper, but the water put out the lamp. So we obtained for thirty hours neither rest nor a warm meal. Dry, hard bread without water, was our only food. Finally the floe broke up, and, hastily packing, ourselves and stores into the "Hope," we went scudding through the leads, earnestly desiring but scarcely daring to hope that we should fall in with Dr. Hayes and his party. As we approached Littleton Island the lead closed, and the pack for a moment shut us in. As we waited and watched, we saw a dark object moving over the floe in the misty distance. Had we been on the lookout for a bear, we might have sent a bullet after it at a venture. But a moment only intervened before John, nimbly jumping the drifting ice-cakes, sprung into the boat! He brought the welcome news of the whereabouts of our companions with the life-boat, and his needed help in our peril. Soon a change of tide brought open water, through which, with all sails set, we bore down on the island. About eight o'clock we saw Dr. Hayes watching for our coming from his bleak, rocky lookout.
So rough was the sea that we could not land, but rowed round Cape Ohlsen, the nearest main-land, where we found a snug harbor with a low beach. The life-boat and her crew followed. The cargoes were taken from the boats, and they were hauled up. From a little stream of melted snow which trickled down the hill-side our kettles were filled. The camp was set ablaze, some young eiders and a burgomaster, shot just before we landed, were soon cooked, a steaming pot of coffee served up, and we talked over our adventures as we satisfied our craving hunger. John was questioned concerning his wild adventure. He had not seen the "Hope," nor did he know where she was. But he was concerned about her, and "wanted to hunt her up."
After dinner we set ourselves at work, preparing the boats for a renewed voyage, which we had some reason to hope would be one of fewer interruptions. The "Hope" was repatched and calked by Petersen. A mast and sail was put into the life-boat, which we named the "Ironsides." The heavier part of the freight was put on board the "Hope," of which Petersen took command, with Sontag, George Stephenson, and George Whipple as companions and helpers. Dr. Hayes commanded in the "Ironsides," with whom was Bonsall, John, Blake, and William Godfrey.
Having spread our sails to a favoring breeze, we gave three cheers and bore away for Cape Alexander, about fourteen miles distant. As we sped onward the scene was delightful. On our left was Hartstene Bay, with its dark, precipitous shore-line, and white glacier fields in the background. The outlines of Cape Alexander grew clearer over our bows, and cheered us onward. But a dark, threatening cloud crept up the northern sky, sending after us an increasing breeze, and tipping the waves with caps of snowy whiteness. The storm-king came on in frequent squalls, giving earnest of his wrath. We could not turn back, nor did such a course at all accord with our wishes; nor could we run toward the shore on the left, where only frowning rocks awaited us. We could only scud before the tempest toward Cape Alexander, come what would. The wind roared louder and the waves rolled higher, yet on we flew. We came within half a mile of the cape unharmed. Now the current, as it swept swiftly round the cape, produced a "chopping sea." The "Hope," being made for a heavy sea, rounded the point in good style. The "Ironsides" was shorter, stood more out of the water, and was, therefore, less manageable. John, who was intrusted with the steering-oar, in minding the business of Bonsall and Godfrey instead of his own, let it fly out of the water, and so permitted the boat to come round broadside to the current. Of course the sea broke over us at its pleasure, filling every part which could be filled and sinking us deep in the water. But for its metallic structure and air-tight apartment we should have sunk; as it was we held fast to the sides and mast to prevent being washed overboard, and thus we drifted ingloriously round the cape.
Here we found our consort, ready to come to our assistance; but as the water was smooth under sheltering land, we bailed out our boat, took in our sails, unshipped the mast, and rowed for a small rock called Sutherland's Island, hoping to find a harbor. But we found none, nor was it safe to land anywhere upon the island. There was nothing to do but to pull back again in the face of the wind. The men were weary and disheartened; the sun had set and it was growing dark; our clothes were frozen and unyielding as a coat of mail; cutting sleet pelted our faces, and we were often compelled to lose for a moment part of what we had with such toil gained. But the sheltering main-land of the cape was at last gained, and we coasted slowly along for some distance looking for a haven. We finally came to a low rocky point, behind which lay a snug little harbor. "A harbor! here we are boys; a harbor!" shouted the lookout. The men responded with a faint cheer—they were too much exhausted for "a rouser."
The boats were unladen and drawn upon the land. Every thing in the "Ironsides" was wet, but the stores of the "Hope" were in perfect order. We pitched our tent, cooked our supper, and lay down to sleep. The sea roared angrily as its waves broke upon the rocky coast, and the wind howled as it came rushing down the hill-side; but they did but lull us to rest as we slept away our weariness and disappointment.
Two days we were detained in this place. Once a little fox peered at us from the edge of the cliff, which set our men upon a fruitless hunt for either his curious little self or some of his kindred. We greatly desired a fox stew, but fox cunning was too much for us.
We started for Northumberland Island on the eighth of September. To reach it we must pass through a wide expanse of sea which was now clear; not a berg greeted our vision, no fragments of drifting ice-packs met our sight. The wind was nearly "after us," and the boats glided through the waves as gloriously as if carrying a picnic party in our own home waters. The spirits of the men run over with glee. "Isn't this glorious?" cried Whipple as the boats came near enough together to exchange salutations; "we have it watch and watch about."
"And so have we," replied Godfrey.
"We're shipping a galley and mean to have some supper," shouted Stephenson.
"And we have got ours already!" exclaimed John. "Look at this!" he added, flourishing in the air a pot of steaming coffee.
But these joys were emphatically of the arctic kind, which are in themselves prophecies of ill. Bergs were soon seen lifting their unwelcome heads in the distance, and sending through the intervening waters their tidings of evil. Next came long, narrow lines of ice; then these were united together by a thin, recent formation. We were now compelled to dodge about to find open lanes. Coming to a full stop, the officers climbed an iceberg to get a view of the situation. The pack was every-where, though in no direction was it without narrow runs of open water. Then and there they were compelled, after careful consultation, to decide a question deeply concerning our enterprise. It was this: Should we take the outer passage, or the one lying along shore. The first would afford a better chance of open water, but if this failed us, as it was even likely to do at this late season, we must certainly perish. The second gave us a smaller chance of boating, but some chance to live if it failed. But we were on a desperate enterprise, and were inclined to desperate measures. But Petersen, who had twenty years' experience in these waters, counseled the inner route, and by his counsel the officers felt bound to abide.
While this consultation was going on the sea became calm, and the boats could be urged only by the oars. It was night before we found a sheltered, sloping land behind a projecting rock. The boats were anchored in the usual way—by taking out their loads and lifting them upon the land.
The tents were pitched upon a terrace a few yards above the boats. This terrace, we were surprised to find, was covered with a green sod, full of thrifty vegetation. The sloping hill-side above had the same greenness. A little seeking brought to our wondering sight an abundant supply of sorrel and "cochlearia," anti-scurvy plants which our men much needed. Some of the men soon filled their caps with them. A fox had been shot and was already in the cook's steaming pot, to which a good supply of the green plants was added. Such a supper as we had! Nothing like it had been tasted since we left home! Our scurvy plague spots disappeared before its wonderful healing power. The men became as hilarious as boys when school is out. They reveled and rolled upon the green arctic carpet like young calves in a newly found clover field. They smoked their pipes, "spun yarns," and laughed cheerily, as if their lives had not just now been in peril, and as if no imminent dangers lay at their door. Our camp had indeed been pitched by the all-guiding Hand in a goodly place. The men declared on retiring that they felt the healing cochlearia in their very bones, and it is certain that we all felt the glow of our changed condition throughout our whole being.
The next day two of us climbed the highest land of the island for a glance at our situation. We found it as depressing as our paradise of greenness had been encouraging. We could see southward the closed ice-pack for twenty miles, and faint indications of the same condition of the sea could be discerned for twenty more miles.
We returned, and a council was called in which all, men and officers, were called upon freely to discuss, and finally to decide by vote, the question, Shall we go forward or attempt to return to the "Advance." All the facts so far as known were fairly brought out. Upernavik was six hundred miles in a straight line; the brig was four hundred. Dangers, if not death, were everywhere, yet none desponded. Whipple, or "Long George," as his messmates called him, made a heroic speech which expressed the feelings of all. He exclaimed: "The ice can't remain long; I'll bet it will open to-morrow. The winter is a long way off yet. If we have such luck as we have had since leaving Cape Alexander, we shall be in Upernavik in two weeks. You say it is not more than six hundred miles there in a straight line. We have food for that time and fuel for a week. Before that's gone we'll shoot a seal."
We voted with one voice—"Upernavik or nothing." The decision was made.