After some further reconnoitring in the hope of finding the party should they be in the vicinity, Lieutenant Hartstein decided to make for Upernavik. A furious gale drove them out of their course adrift in the ice pack.
“After this gale,” writes Dr. Kane’s brother, “we had little or no more troubles with the ice; one or two trifling detentions of a few days brought us to open water. We had drifted so far to the south that Lievely was nearer than Upernavik, and Captain Hartstein determined to put in there. We had a heavy gale the night after we left the ice; but so glad were we all to get clear of it, that I heard no complaints about rough weather. It cleared away beautifully towards morning, and we were all on the deck, admiring the clear water, and the fantastic shapes of the water-washed icebergs. All hands were in high spirits; the gale had blown in the right direction, and in a few hours we should be in Lievely. The rocks of its land-locked harbor were already in sight. We were discussing our news by anticipation, when the man in the crow’s nest cried out: ‘A brig in the harbor!’ and the next minute, before we had time to congratulate each other on the chance of sending letters home, that she had hoisted American colors—a delicate compliment, we thought, on the part of our friends, the Danes. I believe our captain was about to return it, when to our surprise, she hoisted another flag, the veritable one which had gone out with the Advance, bearing the name of Mr. Henry Grinnell. At the same moment, two boats were seen rounding the point, and pulling towards us. Did they contain our lost friends? Yes, the sailors had settled that. ‘Those are Yankees, sir; no Danes ever feathered their oars that way.’
“For those who had friends among the missing party, the few minutes that followed were of bitter anxiety; for the men in the boats were long-bearded and weather-beaten; they had strange wild costumes; there was no possibility of recognition.”
In Dr. Kane’s own words, let us conclude the chapter:—
“Presently we were alongside. An officer whom I shall ever remember as a cherished friend, Captain Hartstein, hailed a little man in a ragged flannel shirt. ‘Is this Dr. Kane?’ and with the ‘Yes!’ that followed, the rigging was manned by our countrymen, and cheers welcomed us back to the social world of love which they represented.”
Dr. Kane and his party reached New York, October 11, 1855, and received an enthusiastic welcome, after an absence of thirty months. Honours of the most flattering kind awaited him on both sides of the Atlantic, but his health was completely broken by the trials of his wonderful journey. On February 16, 1857, he died at Havana, in the thirty-seventh year of his age.
“Tennyson Monument”
The tall shaft, of pale green granite, was discovered by Dr. Kane