It was now becoming a matter for discussion that, should they be so unfortunate as to have to spend a third winter in this region, they would have to live on salt meat and hard bread. Dr. Pavy said they were already getting short of many articles of food, and of some they were entirely out—short of sugar and also of candles and foot-gear, of the latter, only a few pairs of cork-soled boots, unfitted for use in these parts, remaining. Lockwood felt that he would rather take any risks in boats than stay there another winter.
The weather, which had been variable, having settled calm and clear, Lockwood started on his proposed sledge trip up the “Bellows” with Jewell, the Esquimaux Frederick, and an eight-dog team. Having young ice most of the way and no load, they made rapid progress to the tent at Basil Norris Bay. The dogs moved at a gallop, giving to all the rare opportunity of a ride. Here they found sleeping-bags and provisions. The next morning they reached Black Rock Vale and followed the windings of its stream-bed until they came to Lake Heintzelman, a beautiful body of water, or rather ice, perfectly smooth and free from snow, filling the whole valley, some three miles wide, to towering cliffs, and extending about five miles. So smooth was the surface that the dogs could have pulled a ton. Feeling rather chilly, they all held on to the upright of the sledge behind, and were dragged along on the soles of their shoes. Reaching the head of the lake, and finding the way so rough as to endanger the sledge-runners, they deemed it best to go into camp and reconnoitre before proceeding farther. While Lockwood and Jewell got supper, Frederick went on a hunt for musk-oxen. The former afterward followed with the team to bring in the game which he had killed, first skinning and cutting it up, not an easy job, as they had only a very dull hatchet and equally dull case-knives. They finally succeeded, however, after much labor, and returned to camp at a late hour. The ox killed was the only one seen, although it was there—three miles above the lake—that a hundred had been formerly seen. The following morning being chilly and the sky overcast, they returned to the tent at Basil Norris Bay, the dogs carrying the men, as well as nearly four hundred pounds of meat, over the smooth lake at a rapid rate.
While crossing they heard an unusual noise, like distant thunder, which at first they were unable to account for, but finally concluded was due to the cracking of the ice, arising probably from changes of temperature. The whole expanse of ice was marked by cracks extending in every direction, not, however, coming to the surface, but visible below.
In returning to the station, they avoided some rough places by hugging the south shore of the harbor, a rumbling noise of moving and crushing ice being heard in the direction of Dutch Island. On reaching the station, they found that a large bear had visited the house, dragging off the skeleton of a musk-ox which Dr. Pavy had hung out to dry as a specimen. Tracks of another bear were afterward seen near the house. At Lieutenant Greely’s request, Lockwood with others followed these tracks, came in sight of the animal, and saw him make his way toward the middle of the straits through leads of open water and over hills of ice with seeming ease. Of course, they failed to add bear-meat to their well-stocked larder.
After enjoying a hot bath, which Lockwood commended as a grand luxury, he penned the following from his corner in the station-house:
“The men have added a bagatelle-board to their other sources of amusement, and sometimes have bagatelle tournaments. Lieutenant Greely and I often play chess, and sometimes I take a game of checkers with the Esquimaux. These, by-the-way, seem much better reconciled than they were last winter. Probably have come to understand us better, and we them.
“Much of my time has been occupied in making maps of the several launch trips and in writing out stenographic notes. Still, the monotony here is dreadful, and tells on all. It certainly does on me. Dr. Pavy and Lieutenant Kislingbury spend much of their time in the other room, and, when in here and Lieutenant Greely absent, are engaged in the most gloomy prognostications as to the future, and in adverse criticisms on the conduct of the expedition. It is really dreadful, and I sometimes think the life of an exile in Siberia preferable to this. The absence of light without keeps us within-doors, and the want of exercise and fresh air promotes restlessness. Our supply of books comprises only novels and Arctic literature. A few really solid books of history, biography, essays, etc., are much to be desired, though, under the circumstances, I suppose it would be difficult to concentrate one’s mind on them.
“Our experiment with calves had to be given up. All died but one. Long took that to Dutch Island, but it would not stay. Like the human animal, the poor thing wanted sympathy and something to love, and followed him all the way back, notwithstanding all he could do to restrain it. Tame foxes and tame owls have also been given up. The former bit their keepers, the latter ate each other up. The dogs multiply rapidly, and would increase faster, but that the pups are eaten by the old ones. I saw the mother of a dead pup keeping Ritenbank from swallowing it, while she hesitated whether or not she would do the same thing herself.
“We are again building around our house with ice, which proved such an addition last winter, and the double sashes to the windows have been put in. I have added a side-board to my bunk and covered the adjacent walls with paper, thus adding to the warmth. Much may be done to mitigate the evils of this climate. The moral and social evils are what we can not meet, or rather do not repel.”
Mrs. Greely’s birthday was again observed, chiefly by a good dinner with wine furnished by Lieutenant Greely. Lockwood’s own birthday was also celebrated in like manner, when he recorded the following: “After dinner Lieutenant Greely and I had a long talk—reminiscences of army-life, speculations as to our retreat in boats, etc. When alone, my mind turned to the dear ones at home and the many warm friends I had elsewhere, and to the happy days spent with them.