On the 24th of October, the sledge party returned, having reached as far north as Cape Brevoort, 82° N. They had all been well, during their two weeks’ absence, with the exception of Captain Hall, who had complained that he did not feel his wonted vigour and endurance; and for the last three days had not felt at all well.
He had frequently expressed his surprise during the journey that he was not able to run before the sleds and encourage the dogs, as on former expeditions, but had been compelled to keep on the sled. Captain Hall had not been aboard half an hour before he was taken violently ill, and by 8 P.M. his entire left side was paralyzed as the result of an apoplectic attack. By the evening of the 25th, he was delirious; on November 7, he sank into a comatose state, breathing heavily; he remained in this condition until 3:25 A.M. of the 8th, when he died.
The sad news was broken to the ship’s company, and none felt his loss more than the Eskimos, Joe and Hannah, who had been his constant companions for nearly ten years. These faithful friends had looked upon him as a father, and were now heart-broken.
On November 11, Captain George Tyson, assistant navigator of the expedition, wrote in his diary:—
“As we went to the grave this morning, the coffin hauled on a sledge, over which was spread, instead of a pall, the American flag, we walked in procession. I walked on with my lantern a little in advance; then came the captain and officers, the engineer, Dr. Bessel, and Meyers; and then the crew, hauling the body by a rope attached to the sledge, one of the men on the right holding another lantern. Nearly all are dressed in skins, and, were there other eyes to see us, we should look like anything but a funeral cortège. The Eskimos followed the crew. There is a weird sort of light in the air, partly boreal or electric, through which the stars shone brightly at 11 A.M., while on our way to the grave.
“Thus end poor Hall’s ambitious projects; thus is stilled the effervescing enthusiasm of as ardent a nature as I ever knew. Wise he might not always have been, but his soul was in this work, and had he lived till spring, I think he would have gone as far as mortal man could go to accomplish his mission. But with his death I fear that all hopes of further progress will have to be abandoned.”
The death of Captain Hall proved to be fatal to the main object of the expedition—the attainment of the Pole; if possible—or the absolute proof of its inaccessibility. The command of the expedition now devolved upon Captain Buddington.
Several unsuccessful boat journeys to the north were followed by a sledge journey under Dr. Bessels, to Petermann Fiord. Another boat journey by Mr. Chester reached Newman Bay, but it was left to Sergeant F. Meyer, Signal Corps, U. S. Army, to reach on foot the most northerly land at that time ever reached by civilized man, near Repulse Harbor, 82° 09´ N.
“POLARIS” ADRIFT AMONG THE ICEBERGS
On the 11th of August, 1872, the ice of the straits was observed to be in motion, drifting to the south. With the hope of releasing the ship and returning home, Captain Buddington, after an examination of the ice, decided it would be safe to force the vessel through. At 4:30 P.M. the engines were started, and the Polaris left Thank God Harbor; with great care the vessel was piloted between the heavy floes, changing her course frequently, but always gaining ground. By the 18th, she stood 79° 44´ 30´´ N.