The following descriptions indicate the narrow escapes of the ships from destruction during disruptions of the ice-pack:
“The separated sides would come together with an explosion like a mortar, craunching the newly formed field and driving it headlong in fragments for fifty feet upon the floe till it piled up against our bulwarks. Everything betokened a crisis. Sledges, boats, packages of all sorts were disposed in order; contingencies were met as they approached by new delegations of duty; every man was at work, officers and seamen alike. The Rescue, crippled and thrown away from us to the further side of a chasm, was deserted, and her company consolidated with ours. Our own brig groaned and quivered under the pressure against her sides.”
“The ice came in with the momentum before mentioned as irresistible, progressive, and grand. All expected to betake ourselves sledgeless to the ice, for the open space around the vessel barely admits of a foot-board. The timbers and even cross-beams protected by shores vibrated so as to communicate to you the peculiar tremor of a cotton-factory. Presently the stern of the brig, by a succession of jerking leaps, began to rise, while her bows dipped toward the last night’s ice ahead. Everybody looked to see her fall upon her beam-ends and rushed out upon the ice.”
“On the 13th the hummock ridge astern advanced with a steady march upon the vessel. Twice it rested and advanced again—a dense wall of ice, thirty feet broad at the base and twelve feet high, tumbling huge fragments from its crest, yet increasing in mass at every new effort. We had ceased to hope, when a merciful interposition arrested it, so close against our counter that there was scarcely room for a man to pass between. Half a minute of progress more and it would have buried us all. As we drifted along five months afterward this stupendous memento of controlling power was still hanging over our stern.”
The discomfort of the prescribed out-of-door exercise in extreme cold appears from the following:
| A Sleeping-bag for Three Men. |
“Close the lips for the first minute or two and admit the air suspiciously through nostril and mustache. Presently you breathe in a dry, pungent but gracious and agreeable atmosphere. The beard, eyebrows, eyelashes, and the downy pubescence of the ears acquire a delicate white and perfectly enveloped cover of venerable hoar-frost. The mustache and under lip form pendulous beads of dangling ice. Put out your tongue and it instantly freezes to this icy crusting, and a rapid effort and some hand aid will be required to liberate it. The less you talk the better. Your chin has a trick of freezing to your upper jaw by the luting aid of your beard; even my eyes have often been so glued as to show that even a wink may be unsafe.”
The unfortunate physical condition of the party made Kane’s duties most onerous and wearing. In mid-winter he says:
“Scurvy advanced steadily. This fearful disease, so often warded off when in a direct attack, now exhibited itself in a cachexy, a depraved condition of system sad to encounter. Pains diffuse and non-locatable were combined with an apathy and lassitude which resisted all attempts at healthy excitement. These, of course, were not confined to the crew alone: out of twenty-four men but five were without ulcerated gums and blotched limbs. All the officers were assailed.”