On the 29th, a singular aurora made its appearance, consisting of a ribbon of white light a degree wide, stretching through the zenith from north to south; then another arch, 10° westward, whose base touched the first; and still another, also passing through the zenith, and cutting the others at right angles.
On the 30th, Lockwood commenced preparations for a preliminary journey to Hall’s winter quarters, whenever the straits could be crossed and the weather and light were suitable. Among other things, the saddler, Fredericks, made a tent to hold eight men, using to that end two common “A” tents.
About this time, while cogitating on his room and room-mates, Lockwood said: “Surely this is a happy quartet occupying this room! We often sit silent during the whole day, and even a meal fails to elicit anything more than a chance remark or two. A charming prospect for four months of darkness, such gloom within, and penned up as we are in one room! I have doubts of getting over the straits, but I must be off as soon as possible, for I find a relief in getting away.”
Lieutenant Greely had felt himself compelled to show his dissatisfaction with Dr. Pavy’s explorations, or rather attempted explorations. He and the doctor had also adverse views as to how explorations should be made. The doctor wanted to take along many creature comforts, while Greely thought, with Lockwood, that nothing could be accomplished without sacrificing all beyond bare necessities.
Having everything complete, Lockwood started on the 1st of November to try the passage of the straits, with Brainard, Lynn, Saler, Biederbick, Ellis, Fredericks, and Connell, dragging an eight-man sledge, weighing, with load, one thousand pounds. They left sledge and load beyond Cape Distant, and returned to lodge at the house, where all hands fortified themselves with a first-class dinner, preparatory to the labors of the next day.
They got off early, but, owing to the limited light and other difficulties, found themselves some distance from the snow-house near Cape Beechy when darkness overtook them. Having all in readiness on the 4th, they again got off, leaving Ellis at the snow-house with an injured foot. This was unfortunate, as he was a strong, willing fellow, with lots of pluck. The prospects of crossing the straits at this time were not encouraging, both from the short duration of light and from the open waters. Still, they determined to make the effort. This they first did with the whale-boat, which they had picked up on their route. They mounted it on the sledge, but soon found they could not drag so heavy a body, and returned to the snow-house. Rice, whom they found there, was then sent with a dog-sledge to bring up a small boat from Cape Murchison. Dr. Pavy, Lieutenant Kislingbury, and Jans coming along en route for another attempt northward, were surprised to see how comfortable they were in the snow-house.
After extensive repairs to the small boat, they again got off at noon, seven men and Lockwood himself dragging the sledge, on which were the boat and one hundred and fourteen pounds of rations. On reaching open water, three only were to proceed in the boat, the others to fall back on the snow-house. They got along pretty well until they came to the hummocks, through which, with extreme labor, and frequently using an axe, they made their way, till they heard, in the distance toward Polaris Promontory, the roar of the grinding ice, indicating open water. Moving on ahead of the party over very rough ice, and crossing some wet, slushy ice fifteen or twenty yards wide, Lockwood found himself on a level floe. He had gone only a short distance over this toward a dark streak beyond, which he took for open water, when he found that the floe upon which he stood was in motion. Retreating over the bed of slushy ice, he found this to be really only a thick mass of broken pieces intermediate between the moving floe and the firm ice. He could readily thrust his ice-hook down through it to the water beneath, and did so. Reaching the sledge-party, and viewing the difficulties of the situation, he decided, all agreeing, on the impracticability of crossing at this season. They accordingly displayed signal-torches from the top of an iceberg, as agreed upon, that Lieutenant Greely might know that they had found the crossing dangerous and had abandoned the effort. They returned in darkness, and with considerable difficulty, guided somewhat by a signal-torch displayed by Ellis at the snow-house. They remained all day at the snow-house, which the men found so comfortable that they preferred it to the restraints of the station. At noon Lockwood and Brainard went upon a tramp, and found the condition of the open water to be such as to demonstrate the wisdom of their return the evening before. The men made some additions to the snow-house, which were regarded as a great success. The return to the station on the 7th was attended with more difficulty and labor than had been expected, arising from a strong south wind having worn away the foot-ice, and the small amount of light; hence, they soon had wet feet, which in that region always means frost-bitten feet. So much were some of the men used up by this journey of twenty miles, which had before been made in one day, that they had to be conveyed on the sledge, and did not reach the station till the third day. At Dutch Island they met Whistler, who, missing Biederbick at the ropes and seeing a human form on the sledge, came to the conclusion that Biederbick was dead, and repeatedly exclaimed, “Poor Biederbick! poor Biederbick!”
During a period of dullness at the station, Rice and Henry projected a newspaper, to be called the “Arctic Moon,” and Lockwood, to whom, also, the idea had occurred, agreed to join them as one of the editors. They wanted something to dispel the monotony which was depressing all hands, as all were tired of reading, of cards and other games, while two of Lockwood’s room-mates were gloomy and taciturn. To counteract this, he resumed his reading, especially history and travels—anything but novels. Kane’s work interested him especially, and he considered him a remarkable man, courageous, energetic, and determined. Their own manner of life just then reminded Lockwood of a rainy day in the country intensified. “Yet,” says he, “why not be contented? Books and leisure afford an opportunity for reading and studying which we may never have again. We have a warm, comfortable house, plenty of food, and other things which many are without. Life in this world is just what one chooses to make it. Man can make of it a heaven or a hell.” He felt anxious as to the effect of one hundred and thirty sunless days upon himself and men, as this might tell on their sledging in the coming spring. Nares’s people broke down under it, and, when sledging, were decimated by the scurvy. They themselves were fortunate so far in not having had a single man sick enough to keep his bed.
True to his intellectual instincts, Lockwood formed a class in geography and grammar, consisting of Ellison, Bender, Connell, and Whistler, while Lieutenant Greely taught them arithmetic. On the 22d of November appeared, with a flourish of trumpets, the first number of the “Arctic Moon.” Of course the editors thought it a great success. It had for the frontispiece a sketch of the house, drawn by Lockwood, while Rice made fair copies of the paper by the hectograph process—enough for all, and many to spare.
These trifles served to shorten, apparently, the many hours of gloom and darkness, which were wearing away the spirits of all. The men were now far less hilarious than they had been, and, with the game of chess to assist, silence reigned supreme.