START OF LIEUT. PAYER’S SLEDGE EXPEDITION.
In the winter of 1874 several sledging parties were sent out. On the 24th of March, Lieutenant Payer, with six companions, left the vessel, dragging a large sledge freighted with provisions and stores to the extent of three-fourths of a ton. They succeeded in reaching the new land, after many a struggle with the ice-hummocks, snow-drifts, and floods of sea-water which had submerged some parts of the ice. Their difficulties were increased by the fact that a once fine team of dogs was reduced to three capable of being of service. Payer describes the new land as broken up by numerous inlets and fiords, and surrounded by innumerable islands. The mountains were of fair altitude—from 2,000 to 5,000 feet in height—while the glaciers in the valleys were of gigantic size, and formed a great feature in the wild scenery. Some visited “were characterised by their greenish-blue colour, the paucity of crevasses, and extraordinarily coarse-grained ice.” The vegetation was poor, as might be expected. To this hitherto unknown land the name of the Emperor Franz Josef was affixed. The party reached the high latitude of 81° 37′ N.
FALL OF THE SLEDGE INTO A CREVASSE.
The return journey to the vessel was made successfully, although the scarcity of [pg 273]provisions obliged them to make forced marches, and also necessitated a division of the party remaining behind under a cliff on Hohenlohe Island, while Payer, with two of the crew and a small sledge, pressed forward for aid. Crossing an enormous glacier on Crown Prince Rudolf Land, one of the men, the sledge and dogs, fell into a gigantic crevasse which [pg 274]the snow had concealed. Payer himself might have come to grief had not he had presence of mind enough to cut the harness by which he was attached to the sledge. For a time the case looked very bad, as they were unable to extricate the unfortunate explorer. Payer, however, with that quickness which is one of his distinguishing characteristics, immediately ran back some twelve miles to the other party, and obtained assistance. They had eventually the happiness of rescuing the man, &c., by means of ropes. After many perils in the journey over the rotten ice they succeeded in joining the anxious little band on the vessel. Alas! the Tegethoff, which had passed unscathed so many dangers, had to be abandoned in the ice, and a journey by boat and sledge commenced, very similar to that of Barents, made three centuries before. After mournfully nailing the flags to the ship’s mast, on May 20th they started on their doubtful and adventurous trip. It took them over three months (ninety-six days) to reach the Bay of Downs, in lat 72° 4′, where they happily met a Russian schooner, and their troubles were over.
And now to the Arctic expedition which stands out pre-eminently above almost any other whatever. Professor Nordenskjöld may be congratulated on having performed the most intrepid and daring feat of the present century, speaking in a geographical point of view. The North-East Passage has been accomplished. “The splendid success,” said a leading journal, “has been splendidly deserved. It was no lucky accident of exploration that found the Vega a way round the northernmost point of Asia, or chance good fortune that carried her through new seas to the Behrings Straits. Professor Nordenskjöld has fought it out fairly with Nature. The combat has been a long one, and round after round had to be toughly contested before the Professor closed with his opponent, the Arctic Ocean, and floored the grim old tyrant. Six times he has gone northward to do battle with ice and snow, and each time, though returning, he has brought back such knowledge of the enemy’s weakness that assured him of ultimate success.” Unfortunately the details as yet at hand are meagre, and only the bare outlines of the story can be presented. Some of the important scientific results of the expedition will be referred to in future pages.
The Vega, a tough, teak-built steam whaler, left Gothenburg on July 4th, 1878, sighted Nova Zembla on the 28th, and anchored that day off a village on the Samoyede peninsula at the entrance of the Kara Sea, once known as the Ice Cave, but which of late has lost its terrors for even the hardy Norwegian fisherman. Nordenskjöld knew the right season to attempt its passage, and it was surprised when almost free of ice. On August 1st, after making many scientific observations of importance, the Vega proceeded slowly eastward, nothing but rotten ice, which in no way impeded the vessel, being met. In a few days they were safely anchored in Dickson’s Haven, Siberia, a spot perhaps destined to become an important exporting point. Bears and reindeer were found to be numerous, and the vegetation extremely rich. On the 10th the Vega again proceeded, and threading her way through unknown islands, reached a fine harbour situated in the strait that separates Taimyr Island and the mainland, where they dredged for marine specimens with great success. Again resuming the voyage, they, on the evening of the 19th, anchored in a bay round Cape Chelyuskin, the most northerly point of the Asiatic continent. This, the once unconquerable cape, had now been conquered, and that fact alone would have constituted a splendid triumph, although it now only forms an episode in this grand [pg 275]voyage. Low mountains, free from snow, were seen to the southward; geese, ducks, and other birds were seen on the coast, while the ocean was alive with walrus, seals, and whales. On the 21st, though delayed by fogs and rotten ice, the Vega coasted south-east; and on the 23rd, aided by a fine breeze and a smooth sea, was able to dispense with steam. At the Chatanga river they shot bears and wild fowl to their heart’s desire. On the 26th they passed the entrance to the mouth of the Lena, and on the 27th turned northward for the Siberian Islands, which they were prevented from exploring, owing to the ice. Nordenskjöld ordered the vessel’s head to be turned southward, and they passed the mouth of the great Kolyma river. Soon they were among the ice, and, as they had anticipated, were to be imprisoned in it. But the health of the party was excellent, and no scurvy whatever appeared; their own provisions were of the best; and after passing Cook’s Cape, Vankarema, the Vega crossed to Kolintchin, where the furnaces were put out, the sails stowed, and winter life fairly commenced. At a mile distance ashore there was a Tchuktchi village of 4,000 souls, all living easily, for fish and seals, bear, wolf, and fox, were abundant, while in spring the geese, swans, and ducks, returned from the south. For nearly nine months they were ice-bound; but at last the ice floes broke up and scattered, and the little Vega soon passed East Cape, the extremity of Asia, and steamed gaily into Behring Straits, where a salute was fired, announcing a success unprecedented in the annals of Arctic history. The Professor believes that voyages may be regularly performed in the future which will open up a considerable trade with northern Siberia.
Surrounded by almost every conceivable difficulty and danger, Arctic research has witnessed and developed more genuinely heroic skill and enterprise than has been needed or found in the exploration of any other portion of our globe. With all its dangers the North Polar world possesses a rare fascination for the adventurous, and has something to offer in palliation of its monotonous desolation. The yet unknown must always have charms for the greatest minds, even though it should prove practically unknowable; the undiscovered may not always be so, for the unfathomed of the past may be fathomed to-day. The Polar regions offer much to the scientist, and, in some phases, much to the artist. The beautiful Aurora flashes over the scene and banishes the darkness of the Arctic night. The vastness of Nature’s operations are shown in the huge icebergs clad in dazzling whiteness or glittering in the moon’s silvery rays in the interminable fields of fixed or floating ice, in glacial rivers of grandest size. As the bergs melting in the warmer waves assume endless fantastic forms—as of pointed spires, jagged steeples, or castellated remains, and as, losing the centre of gravity, they roll over to assume new forms, or meeting together crash like thunder or the roar of artillery, throwing up great volumes of foam, disturbing the surface of the sea for miles, the puniness of man is felt, and the mind inevitably lifted from Nature up “to Nature’s God.”
Much has been done; still, there is yet work which remains to be accomplished in the Arctic seas. But brave men will never be wanting when new attempts are made. As the old sea-captain, looking at the chart in Millais’ picture, says, concerning the North-West Passage, “It might be done—and England ought to do it!”