He spoke to them in Russian, with no better luck at communication than the Yakut reindeer drivers had had, but suddenly recalling what we had told him of our two lost boats, he enquired of them,
“Jeannette? Americanski?” and immediately the men had understood, nodding vigorously in assent; and writing this note, had placed it in his hands, begging him piteously,
“Commandant! Bulun! Bulun!”
That he understood also, but as he was bound for Jamaveloch and knew that I would be most interested in the matter, he had forthwith resumed his journey, and now, two days later, there was the message in my hands, while Nindemann and Noros no doubt were by this time in Bulun itself.
I retrieved the note from Bartlett and read it again carefully. De Long had landed, but simply “on Siberia.” Where was he now? The note was blank on that. I could not tell. But evidently he was in a bad way, for Nindemann and Noros, somehow separated from their shipmates, were from Kusmah’s account obviously far gone, and as for the others, that closing scrawl,
“Reply in haste; want food and clothing” had an ominous ring. And then my eyes fell again on “the CAPTAIN and DOCTOR and nine (9) other men.”
Nine? Hastily I counted up. The captain, the doctor, Nindemann, Noros and nine others—that made only thirteen! But De Long had had fourteen all told in his boat! Was nine an error? No; as if to emphasize it, the nine was repeated as a figure in parenthesis. So already one of De Long’s party had died. Sadly I wondered who. Collins, perhaps? No, I decided; Collins had done no work on the ice to wear him down. Lee, my machinist, was most likely, I concluded. His injured hips would have made it most difficult for him to keep up and he might have had to be left behind.
But this was no time for wondering. Only Nindemann and Noros could tell me where the captain was and how to get there. And if those two men were as badly off as Kusmah said, they might both soon die, taking their secret with them. The Lena Delta was large, over 5000 square miles in area, and from bitter experience I knew now how difficult it was to find one’s way amidst its myriad islands, swamps, and freezing streams. And as for charts, there were none worthy of the name—Petermann’s, which had nearly led my party to starvation, was worse than useless. I shivered as I thought of that. De Long, relying on that same Petermann chart, had intended to land near Barkin! Barkin and the north coast of the delta thereabouts, were not only uninhabited and a hopeless stretch of barren tundra, but a hundred miles further north and by so much further removed even from such slight shelter as we had providentially encountered at Jamaveloch! De Long and his party must be in fearful straits!
“Kusmah!” I said sharply. “Return with me to Bulun at once! Get your dogs! We start right away!”
But Kusmah demurred, objecting that his dog team was completely worn out and could not travel the ice again without several days’ rest. On investigating his dogs, this proved to be true, so getting hold promptly of Nicolai Chagra, I insisted vigorously that he provide immediately from somewhere another team if it stripped the village of its last dog.