The hunters were fortunate in securing occasional deer, but the unfortunate condition of Erickson, whose frozen feet necessitated the amputation of his toes, retarded their progress, and October came in cold and blustery to find the miserable party still far away from human aid. For nine days more they struggled along the barren shores of the Lena; game failed, and their food was exhausted. Erickson died and was buried in the river. Nindemann and Noros started on a forced march for assistance from the nearest settlement at Ku Mark Surka; they carried their blankets, one rifle, forty rounds of ammunition, and two ounces of alcohol—but no food!
On October 10, De Long makes the following entry:—
“One hundred and twentieth day. Last half ounce alcohol at 5.30; at 6.30 send Alexey off to look for ptarmigan. Eat deerskin scraps. Yesterday morning ate my deerskin foot-nips. Light S.S.E. airs. Not very cold. Under way at eight. In crossing creek three of us got wet. Built fire and dried out. Ahead again until eleven. Used up. Built fire. Made a drink out of the tea-leaves from alcohol bottle. On again at noon. Fresh S.S.W. wind, drifting snow. Very hard going. Lee begging to be left. Some little beach, and then long stretches of high bank. Ptarmigan tracks plentiful. Following Nindemann’s tracks. At three halted, used up; crawled into a hole in the bank, collected wood, and built fire. Alexey away in quest of game. Nothing for supper except a spoonful of glycerine. All hands weak and feeble but cheerful—God help us.”
Three days later there is an entry, “We are in the hands of God, and unless He intervenes we are lost.”
On October 16, the faithful hunter, Alexey, broke down, and the next day he died. On the 21st Kaack was found dead between the captain and Dr. Ambler, and about noon Lee died, and on October 22 De Long writes:—
“One hundred and thirty-second day. Too weak to carry the bodies of Lee and Kaack out on the ice. The doctor, Collins, and I carried them around the corner out of sight; then my eye closed up.”
On Monday, October 24, there is the simple entry: “One hundred and thirty-fourth day. A hard night.” And three days later, “Iversen broken down,” and the next day, “Iversen died during early morning.” On October 29, “One hundred and thirty-ninth day, Dressler died during night.” On October 30, Sunday, the last record of the brave De Long was written: “One hundred and fortieth day. Boyd and Görtz died during night. Mr. Collins dying.”
The forced march of Nindemann and Noros is one of the most remarkable tests of human suffering and endurance in the annals of Arctic history. It is a record of travelling across the wilderness without food except as they brought down an occasional ptarmigan and lemming; sighting with the eyes of starving men a herd of deer which fled before they could approach sufficiently near to fire at them; struggling through wretched days to crawl into a snow hole at night, where they lay the night through wet to the waist, alternately sleeping for five-minute intervals, one man rousing the other that he might knock his feet together to keep them from freezing and taking up the march upon the strength of an infusion of Arctic willow tea and boot-sole. Crossing a couple of streams they sought shelter from a raging gale in a wretched hut where a refuse pile of deer bones were burned and eaten. Near another hut was found a little rotten fish—this eked out with strips cut from seal-skin clothing was all that stayed the pangs of hunger as they marched on. The 16th of October found their strength fast waning. Noros was complaining of illness and spitting blood. Two days later they reached a place set down on later maps as Bulcour; it consisted of three deserted huts.
“Near by was a half kayak with something in it. Noros tasted it. It was blue moulded and tasteless to them, but it was fish, and they took it with them to the other huts. They found nothing more, and after gathering some drift-wood they made a fire and tried to find some food in the mouldy fish.”
On Friday, October 21, they were too weak to push on, but spent the day in careful husbanding of their resources. Measuring their fish, they found that by taking each two tin cupfuls a day they had enough for ten days. Sewing up the fish in their foot-nips and skull caps, they arranged straps to these bundles for carrying.