The morning of the 10th was bright, clear, and calm. They noticed a stratum of misty clouds, supposed to be water-clouds, hanging along the foot of the cliffs on the Grinnell Land shore, and extending from above Cape Beechy northward indefinitely. After passing through several bands of rubble-ice with great labor, and yet without having to double up, they found the tracks made on the outward journey, and followed them continuously. This saved a great deal of time in chopping and picking out a road. About noon they suddenly encountered a very cold south wind. It seemed to come out of Devil’s Gap, Polaris Promontory, and as usual carried along a lot of fine drifted snow, continuing during the day. Their heavy loads made the dogs travel at a slow walk, otherwise, no doubt, both Jewell and Ellis must have been left behind or carried on the sledges. They went into camp on a hard snow-drift.
After an uncomfortable night, with the mercury at 45° below zero, they left camp and followed the old trail, as on the previous day, jolting along with little difficulty in the rubble-ice, the dogs doing admirably, bracing themselves to the effort at bad places, like so many men.
They reached Depot B at 2.50 P. M., and pitched the tents, this making the tenth time that Lockwood had crossed the straits above Fort Conger.
The traveling was tedious and slow, but they reached Depot A at noon, stopping only half an hour, and arrived at Fort Conger in the afternoon. Everything there was quiet as the grave. “General Grant” was the only one, man or beast, that knew of their approach and came out to meet them. Even when they passed the windows and reached the door, no one saw or heard them, and Lockwood walked in on Lieutenant Greely like a ghost, and simply said: “Well, I’m back again; open water at Black Horn Cliffs.” Some of his further reflections were to this effect:
“Do I take up my pen to write the humiliating word failed? I do, and bitter is the dose, although it is now a week since first I tasted it. My return here, the inaction after two and a half weeks of activity, and the monotony, not to mention the disappointment of Lieutenant Greely, make it fresh as when first mixed. I tried yesterday and to-day to induce Lieutenant Greely to let me go out again, but he says this is our last year here, that I still have last year’s work to fall back on, and, above all, that it is not prudent. I have a scheme by which I could travel four days beyond the farthest of ’82, and get back here in forty-four days, leaving April 21st and returning June 3d—that is, provided an overland route around the Black Horn Cliffs can be found, and provided the conditions beyond are no worse than last year. My proposal was to take the two teams, the two Esquimaux and Brainard, five sacks of pemmican, one tent, two sleeping-bags, etc., and forty-four days’ rations for the party. The five sacks would last the dogs twenty-three days, after which about eight dogs of the twenty would be killed one by one, and thus the remainder fed on the return. We should have to make long marches, it is true. Perhaps the refusal is for the best, and I still have the country southwest of the head of Archer Fiord to operate in; but I am reluctant to give up this scheme for passing 83° 24′.” Everything at the station was very quiet, and much as when they left, except that a party had been sent for the boat at Thank-God Harbor.
XV.
ACROSS GRINNELL LAND.
While the disappointment which attended the late expedition was very great, it did not make Lieutenant Lockwood unhappy or morose. He was only convinced, perhaps, that when the ice and snow and storms, minions of the North Pole, undertake to play the game of April fool, they do it very effectually. The absence of so many of his companions from the station had a depressing effect upon his spirits, but as usual he prepared the report of his last journey, and duly submitted it to Lieutenant Greely, all the while suffering from the severe rheumatic pains which invariably followed his exposure to severe cold. Many of the men were complaining, and the weather outlook was not encouraging, and yet, after consulting with Lieutenant Greely, Lockwood fixed his mind upon an exploration up and beyond the Archer Fiord. His idea was to go west, at least as far as the English had gone along the northern shore of Grinnell Land, feeling that he could hardly fail of finding something of interest, and would perhaps make important discoveries. Indeed, he might be able to determine the coast-line on the west. As usual, he wanted the company of Sergeant Brainard and Esquimaux Frederick, and would be content with one dog-team and supplies for thirty days, with a proper supporting party for two days.
His spirits now became better than they had been, caused chiefly, as he confessed, by the glorious sun; and yet he could not refrain from thinking of home, and again resorting for comfort to his old family letters, which he had so frequently read before.
His late failure had been a disappointment to himself as well as to Lieutenant Greely and the men. Some of them seemed down in the mouth and gloomy, and, by way of cheering them, Lieutenant Greely informed them that he intended to leave Fort Conger on the 5th of August, or as soon thereafter as the ice would permit. The personal relations of Dr. Pavy and Lieutenant Kislingbury with Lieutenant Greely and himself were not what they should have been, and, instead of getting better, these relations seemed to grow worse. Could he not have gone abroad on these fatiguing journeys to escape such companionship, he would have felt utterly desperate. He certainly would cheerfully take any risks during the summer than longer endure the existing personal troubles. Lieutenant Kislingbury’s only thought seemed to be that a sledge-party should be sent down to Littleton Island to have the ship leave her supplies at Cape Sabine, therein merely reflecting the latest opinion of the doctor.
The start for the western trip was made on the 25th of April, 1883, with two sledges, each drawn by ten dogs and carrying about one thousand pounds of rations for thirty days. They moved along the south side of the harbor over very soft and deep snow, through which the dogs labored, yet made their way with full loads. On getting near “Sun Land,” however, the snow became abominable, and the traveling was as bad as they had ever experienced. After trying for some time to go ahead, but sticking incessantly, they turned short off to the left, and after a great deal of work reached the shore, Brainard en route falling down a crack, and Lockwood feeling convinced that his feet were frozen, as all sensation had left them.