SUNLIGHT EFFECT IN THE ARCTIC REGION (SEE PAGE [291]).
They decided, however, on making the attempt, in the hope of reaching a place called Shaumen, a little to the north of Cape Mercy, in lat. 65° N., where game, and sometimes Eskimos, were to be found. In spite of all their efforts, they were foiled by a succession of blinding, lashing, beating snow-storms. The mercury sank again to 24° below zero, and their position grew desperate. They were reduced to one meal—and such a meal!—per diem. Great was their joy on the 28th when the hunters brought in thirty-seven dove-kies, or two apiece. They were cooked without delay, and eaten up to the last morsel, except the feathers. Greater still was their joy on the 2nd (of March), when Eskimo Joe shot a monster oogjook (a large kind of seal), the largest they had ever seen—such a monster that it took all hands to drag its carcass to the huts. Peter danced and sung in the exuberance of his delight, and everybody felt that for a time they were saved from starvation. On measurement, this glorious oogjook proved to be seven feet nine inches in length, or fully nine feet including the tail.
The ice-raft was now approaching Cumberland Gulf, and Tyson calculated that they had reached lat. 65° N. They drifted more and more rapidly; and if they did not die of famine,—if the ice did not break up too suddenly,—there was a probability of their reaching the whaling ground, and falling in with some friendly ship. The gales, however, were frequent and severe; the thermometer continued very low—32° to 34° below zero; and the sufferings of the whole company were intense. Even the Eskimos were sorely afflicted; though without these bold and patient hunters, the white men must certainly have perished.
FIRST SIGHT OF A WHALE.
On the 7th of March there were indications of the breaking up of the floe. It cracked and snapped beneath them, with a sound like that of distant thunder. So far as the surface was concerned, however, no signs of fracture were visible; the eye, straining in every direction, saw nothing but an unbroken expanse of ice. And thus it continued until the 12th, when, during a terrible storm, the threatened catastrophe took place, the ice-raft being shattered suddenly into hundreds of pieces, on one of which, not more that one hundred yards by seventy-five, the adventurers found themselves adrift! Oh, what a night of dread anxiety they passed, expecting every moment that this piece too would give way, and plunge them into ruin! But it held together; and when the wind abated, and the snow ceased to fall, and the wild hurtling of the broken ice was hushed, they could look around them, and realize their position. The condition of the ice had undergone an absolute change; the “floes” were driven up into a “pack,” and huge blocks, of all shapes and sizes, were heaped up and jammed together in inextricable confusion.
FACE TO FACE WITH A POLAR BEAR.
AN ARCTIC ICE-SCAPE (SEE PAGE [292]).