On November 8 it was so dark at midday that a newspaper could not be read, nor could a man be distinguished a dozen yards away. For eighty-seven days more the sun would be absent, but the moon visited the dark, cold skies, appearing for ten days without setting, and then going out of sight for thirteen. On November 13 the cold was so intense that the mercury froze in the thermometer.
But if it was dark and cold outside, the ship's company made themselves comfortable. A school was started, a theatre was opened—the Royal Arctic—and every Thursday they had popular concerts. Exercise was daily taken and the general health was excellent, only one man being on the sick-list, and he from a constitutional cause. The men were warmly clad when "between decks," as the temperature there was never what one might term hot; but before going outside they had to wrap themselves up in a variety of thick heavy fur garments, for there was often a difference of nearly one hundred degrees to be experienced.
The long stretch of winter's darkness was varied by the appearance, from time to time, of the aurora. This was the phenomenon which so greatly puzzled, and not infrequently terrified, the early explorers. Assuming a variety of forms, sometimes like the fringe of a vast curtain hanging in the sky, at others appearing as bands and streaks of light, waving and flickering over the heavens, but always with this peculiarity, that however bright they appeared, no light was given to the surrounding atmosphere, they were a source of constant interest to the men.
And so the winter passed, not entirely without its pleasures, in spite of the prolonged darkness. With the beginning of spring active preparations were made for the sledging trips, which were to carry out the work of surveying the surrounding land and penetrating farther to the North than it was possible for the vessels to go. The great majority of the officers and men on the Alert were told off for these expeditions, six officers and six men remaining on board, while fifty-three were split up into two parties, one to survey the coast of Grant's Land, and the other, under Commander Markham and Lieutenant Parr, to go North—to the Pole if possible.
The day the start was made the two parties were drawn up in line alongside the ship, and the chaplain read prayers, after which, with cheers for one another and the men left behind, they started.
Both did good service, the survey party carrying the survey round the coast well on to the western side. The North Pole party pressed on in the face of terrible difficulties until they reached the farthest point North that had yet been recorded.
In addition to the sledges laden with stores, they dragged with them two whale-boats in case they should meet with open water. But there was no sign of it as far as they went. On the contrary, their route lay over such excessively rough ice that although they travelled as a rule about ten miles a day, so much of it was spent in getting round inaccessible hummocks, that the actual progress towards the North rarely exceeded one mile a day.
When on April 11 they bade their comrades farewell, they had provisions for seventy days, and all were in good health and spirits. The work of dragging the boats and sledges up and down the great masses of rugged ice which covered the Polar Sea was terribly trying, however, and by the time the ten miles were covered every one was ready to creep into the sleeping-bags and rest. As the sun began to rise above the horizon it made the snow and ice sparkle and glitter so much that their eyes, accustomed for so long to darkness, could not stand it. Goggles had to be worn to protect the sight, but before they were adopted by all the members several were affected, and Lieutenant Parr for some days suffered from snow-blindness, an affliction which fortunately passed away in time.
As the days went by, the toil of dragging the sledges over the interminable and monotonous ice became more and more wearying. There was no variety in the work, no change in the surroundings; and although the men stuck at their task with true British obstinacy, it began to tell upon them. One man fell sick, growing weaker and weaker until he was no longer able to pull, and then was unable to walk. One of the boats was abandoned, and the sick man laid on a sledge. His condition was more than disquieting to the leaders, for it was evident he was suffering from scurvy, and no one could say who would be the next to develop it.
On April 23 they only added a mile and a quarter to their distance, for they had come upon clumps of ice hummocks which made their progress so difficult that they had to combine forces to haul first one sledge and then another over the obstacles. On April 28, when they were seventeen miles from the shore, they found the track of a hare in the snow, going towards the land, but with the footprints so close together that the animal was evidently very weak. Where it had come from, or how it had got so far from the shore, were riddles they could not solve.