True Tales of Arctic Heroism in the New World

by A. W. Greely

On learning of the attitude of the American press, she wrote: "I learn that the people of the United States have responded to the appeal made to their humane and generous feelings, and that in a manner worthy of so great and powerful a nation—indeed, with a munificence which is almost without parallel."

Now the efforts of three nations having failed, Lady Jane then resolved to undertake a final search at the expense of herself and of her sympathizing friends. There was then available the Resolute, abandoned by Belcher, brought back by the American whaler, J. M. Buddington, bought by the American Congress, and presented to the Queen. The admiralty would neither loan the Resolute nor any of its surplus stores suited for arctic service. By the efforts of Lady Franklin and her friends the steam-yacht Fox was sent forth on an expedition that cost about thirty-five thousand pounds sterling, of which the greater portion came from Lady Jane's private fortune. McClintock and Allen Young volunteered to serve without pay, and both Hobson and Dr. Walker made similar pecuniary sacrifices.

At McClintock's request Lady Jane wrote out her wishes, in which the personal element came last. She says: "The rescue of any survivor of the Erebus and Terror would be to me the noblest results of our efforts. To this object I wish every other to be subordinate; and next to it in importance is the recovery of the unspeakably precious documents of the expedition, public and private, and the personal relics of my dear husband and his companions. And lastly, to confirm, directly or inferentially, the claim of my husband's expedition to the earliest discovery of the passage, which, if Dr. Rae's report be true (and the government has accepted it as such), these martyrs in a noble cause achieved at their last extremity."

Captain Sir Leopold McClintock sailed July 2, 1857, inspired by the feeling that "the glorious mission intrusted to me was in reality a great national duty." He was the greatest of arctic sledgemen, having made in unexplored parts of Parry archipelago, without dogs, a sledge journey of one hundred and five days, in which he travelled twelve hundred and ten miles.

Reaching Baffin Bay, the Fox had the great misfortune of being caught in the pack in the midst of summer, on August 15. McClintock's experiences and sufferings were horrible. His assistant engineer died of an accident, and for days at a time the Fox was in danger of instant destruction from gales, icebergs, and other elements attendant on life in the pack. After a besetment of eight months and nine days, in which she drifted twelve hundred miles to the south, the yacht escaped, buffeted, racked, and leaking.

The winter in the pack was not entirely without the presence of game, for in the beginning of November a bear crept up to the yacht, attracted by odors from the cook's galley. Fortunately an alert quartermaster detected his form outlined against the snow and at once shouted to the dogs. Some of them ran like cowards, while others, rushing the bear, closed in on him, biting his legs as he ran. Crossing a lane of lately frozen sea, the bear broke through the new ice, followed by a number of dogs who held fast to him in the water-space. One dog, old Sophy, fared badly at close quarters, receiving a deep cut in one of her shoulders from his sharp claws. It took four shots to kill the animal, it being a large male bear seven feet three inches long. McClintock tells us that "The chase and death were exciting. A misty moon affording but scanty light, dark figures gliding singly about, not daring to approach each other, for the ice trembled under their feet, the enraged bear, the wolfish, howling dogs, and the bright flashes of the rifles made a novel scene."

The escape from the pack was made under conditions that would turn one's hair gray in a few days. For eighteen hours the chief stood fast at his engines, while navigation was made through very high seas, with waves from ten to thirteen feet high, which threatened to destroy the yacht by driving against her great ice-floes which shook the vessel violently and nearly knocked the crew off their legs.

Return to Europe for repairs seemed inevitable, but with the thought of poor Lady Franklin in his heart, McClintock patched up the ship as best he could in Greenland, and, crossing Baffin Bay, was driven, after a fruitless sea-search, to winter quarters in Port Kennedy, 72° N. 94° W.

Hunting filled in the winter, though most animal life had gone south. Lemmings were plentiful, about twice the size of and resembling the short-tailed field-mouse. Bold and fearless, they enlivened the members of the crew. An ermine visited the ship, and, being seen by one of the dogs, the pack set up a perfect pandemonium in their efforts to catch him. The beautiful snow-white creature rather unconcernedly watched the efforts of the dogs to get at him under the grating of the boat where he was safely ensconced. It was amusing to see an ermine play around the ship, and when closely pursued by man or by dog plunge into a drift of soft snow only to reappear at a considerable distance and in a quarter where least expected. It was with the active little animals a kind of hide-and-seek game, with their lives for forfeit if they were caught.

During Hobson's long journey to lay down an advance depot he lost a dog actually from overcare. She had the bad habit of gnawing and eating her seal-thong harness, and to prevent this Hobson caused her to be tightly muzzled after the evening meal. One of the numberless dog-fights occurred during the night, and with the trait so common to these half-wolfish beasts they fell on the least defenceless, and the whole pack bit and tore almost to pieces their muzzled and defenceless sister. Her wounds were so many and so deep that she died during the day.