The Pandora was highly favoured by the singularly open condition of Melville Bay; bergs proved plentiful, but no dreaded ice-floe impeded her progress. A change in the ice conditions was first noticeable while off the Gary Islands. And upon leaving the islands and proceeding toward Lancaster Sound, the Pandora fell in with the ice the 20th of August while lying about thirty miles east of Cape Horsburgh.
“Three bears being seen on the ice,” writes Captain Young, “I went away in the second cutter with Pirie and Beynen, and after shooting the old she-bear and one cub we succeeded in getting a rope around the larger cub and towing him to the ship. Now began a most lively scene. The bear was almost full grown, and it was with some difficulty we got him on board and tied down the ring-bolts with his hind legs secured; and notwithstanding this rough treatment he showed most wonderful energy in trying to attack any one who came within reach, and especially our dogs, who seemed to delight in trying his temper. He was at last secured on the quarter deck with a chain round his neck and under his fore arms, and soon began to feed ravenously on—I am sorry to have to write it—his own mother, who was speedily cut up and pieces of her flesh thrown to my new shipmate. I hope that he was only an adopted child, and the great difference between him and the other cub warranted this supposition, as, being three times the size of the other, he could not have been of the same litter.” A few days later we read, “Our new shipmate, the bear, made desperate struggles to get over the rail into the sea, but the chain was tightened, and at last he went to sleep.”
On the 23d of August, a barrier of ice across Lancaster Sound obliged Captain Young to retrace his steps. Snow, sleet, and wind prevailed as they scudded onward, an ice blink frequently ahead; then the inevitable floe in streams and loose pieces, with the sea dashing over them as they flew between.
“While we were in this situation,” Captain Young observes, “our bear gradually worked himself into a state of frantic excitement—getting up to the rail,—watching the floe-ice rapidly dashing past our side—and in his attempts to get over the bulwarks, he released his chain until it was evident that in a few moments he would be free, whether to dive overboard or to run amuck among the watch appeared a question of doubt. The alarm being given by Pirie, who was writing up the deck log, the watch was called to secure the bear, and I fear that during the half hour which elapsed the ship was left, more or less, to take care of herself. The whole watch, besides Pirie with a revolver and myself with a crowbar, assaulted the unfortunate Bruin, whose frantic struggles and endeavours to attack every one within reach were quite as much as we could control. He was loose, but by a fortunate event a running noose was passed round his neck, and the poor brute was hauled down to a ring-bolt until we could secure the chain round his neck and body. I had hitherto no conception of the strength of these animals, and especially of the power of their jaws. Fearing that the iron crowbar might injure his teeth, I jammed a mop handle into his mouth while the others were securing his chain, and he bit it completely through. At last Bruin gave in, and beyond an occasional struggle to get loose, and a constant low growling, he gave us no further trouble. I ought to mention that in the midst of the scrimmage the Doctor was called up to give him a dose of opium, in the hope of subduing him by this means; but having succeeded in getting him to swallow a piece of blubber saturated with chloroform and opium sufficient to kill a dozen men, our Bruin did not appear to have experienced the slightest effect, and the Doctor, who volunteered to remain up, and expressed some anxiety as to the bear’s fate, retired below somewhat disappointed.”
Making Barrow Strait for the purpose of reaching Beechey Island, the Pandora pursued her course, in fog and snow; Beechey Island was reached on the 25th. Going on shore, Captain Young and two officers inspected the state of provisions and boats at Northumberland House. It will be remembered that Northumberland House was built by Commander Pullen of the North Star, which wintered there in 1852-1853 and 1853-1854, as a depot for Sir Edward Belcher’s expedition. The house was built in the fall of 1852, of the lower masts and spars from the American whaler McLellan, which had been crushed in the ice in Melville Bay in 1852.
Captain Young found that the house had been stove in at the door and sides, by the wind and by bears, and almost everything light and movable had been blown out or dragged out by the bears, which had also torn up all the tops of the bales, and scattered the contents in all directions. The house was nearly full of ice and snow frozen so hard as to necessitate the use of pick-axe and crowbar before anything could be moved. Tea-chests and beef casks had been broken open and the contents scattered or devoured. The place presented a scene of ruin and confusion, although there were no traces of the place having been visited by human beings since the departure of Sir Leopold M’Clintock in the Fox, the 14th of August, 1853.
A cask of rum had remained intact, “a conclusive proof to my mind,” writes Captain Young, “that neither Eskimo nor British sailor had entered that way.” The boats, however, were found in good condition, and had escaped the ravages of time and wild animals.
Weighing anchor the Pandora stood to the southward for Peel Strait. Captain Young visited a cairn in which a record had been placed by Captain James C. Ross, 7th of June, 1849.
An attempt was made to push through to Bellot Strait, but the fast closing in of the ice determined Captain Young to retreat and abandon his cherished hope of making the Northwest Passage this year. A race with the ice to Cape Rennell and a second visit to the Cary Islands resulted in finding a record left there by the Alert and Discovery, which brought glad tidings to friends at home. By the 11th of September, the Pandora sighted Cape Dudley Digges, about ten miles distant, “the wind freshening to a gale, with a high flowing sea, which froze as it lapped our sides.”
Cape York was passed the next day. A stormy passage continued to harass them until the 19th, when the Pandora reached the harbour of Godhaven. After a four days’ stay at Godhaven, she continued in her course; on the 1st of October she stood southward of the cape, steering direct for the English Channel, and anchored at Spithead, the 16th of October, 1875.