“It may be imagined with what feelings,” says Kennedy, “when we really had come upon it, we approached a spot round which so many hopes and anxieties had so long centred. Every object, distinguished by the moonlight in the distance, became animated to our imaginations, into the forms of our long-absent countrymen; for had they been imprisoned anywhere in the Arctic Seas, within a reasonable distance of Fury Beach, here we felt assured some of them at least would have been now. But alas! for these fond hopes! How deeply, though perhaps unconsciously cherished, none of us probably suspected, till standing under the tattered covering of Somerset House, and gazing silently upon the solitude around us, we felt as we turned to look mournfully on each other’s faces, that the last ray of hope as to this cherished imagination had fled from our hearts. It is perhaps necessary for the vigorous prosecution of any difficult object that for the moment, some particular circumstance in the chain of operations by which it is to be effected, should seem to us so vitally important that the eye is blinded to all beyond. The spot on which we now stood had so long been associated in our minds with some clue to the discovery of the solution of the painful mystery which hung over the fate of Franklin, and had so long unconsciously perhaps coloured all our thought, that it was not without a pang, and a feeling as if the main purpose of our expedition had been defeated, that we found all our long-cherished anticipations shattered at a blow by the scene which met our eyes. Thus my friend and I stood paralyzed at the death-like solitude around us. No vestige of the visit of a human being was here since Lieutenant Robinson had examined the depot in 1849. The stores, still in the most perfect preservation, were precisely in the well-arranged condition, described in the clear report of that energetic officer.”
“His own notice of his visit,” continues Mr. Kennedy, “was deeply buried in the snow, and the index staff he had placed over it was thrown down and gnawed by the foxes. Wearied with a long and fruitless examination we took up our quarters for a repose of a few hours in Somerset House, the frame of which was still standing entire, but the covering blown to rags by the wind, and one end of the house nearly filled with snow. We lighted a fire on the stove which had heated the end occupied by Sir John Ross’s crew during the dreary winter of 1832-33.
“After refreshing ourselves with a warm supper, and nodding for a few hours over the fire, we set out about 11 P.M. on our return to our encampment, which we reached by 2 A.M. of the following morning. Our return from this point to the ship, which we reached about 5 P.M. of Saturday the 10th, was not marked by any incident worthy of notice.
“We had deposited at our encampment a 90-pound case of pemmican, a bag of coals, two muskets, and some ammunition, which, while it served as a reserve for future explorations in this direction, materially lightened the labour of the dogs, and allowed us time for a more minute examination of the coast than we had been able to make during the outward journey. The result, however, was not in any respect more successful. No traces of any kind were discovered which could throw light on the objects of our search.
“Thus ended our first journey to Fury Beach, and its results satisfied us that, in the present state of the ice in Prince Regent’s Inlet, the more extended explorations of the coastline, which we had calculated on being able to commence on our return to the ship, could not now be safely undertaken, and must for the present be postponed. We were most reluctantly compelled, therefore, to pass the next month in the ship, occupied in the same general routine duties as those on which we had been during the earlier part of the winter.”
Captain Kennedy gives a vivid description of Arctic gales and the dangers of travel during a tempest. “About eight A.M. in the morning of the 13th February,” he writes, “Mr. Bellot, the carpenter, Andrew Irvine, Henry Anderson (the first mate), and myself left the ship, taking with us two cases of pemmican, and three tin jars, each containing two gallons of spirits of wine, on a sledge, drawn by five Eskimo dogs, for the purpose of depositing them a short distance on the way to Fury Beach, and returning in the evening. After proceeding for a few hours, and making very fair progress along a tolerably good path, a strong wind arose, which by one P.M. had increased to a perfect hurricane, so thickly charged with snow that, in attempting to cross a bay on our return, we lost sight of the land by which our course homeward had been guided. In short, after wandering about for some time, scarcely able to distinguish each other at the distance of a few paces, we found that we had fairly lost our way. In this dilemma, we set two of the five dogs loose from the sledge, in the hope that they would act as guides better than when drawing; but this proved to be a mistake, as they would not leave the others. At last, however, they all set off together, taking the sledge with them and leaving us to our fate. As we afterwards found, they reached the ship without any difficulty, and, as may readily be supposed, put every one on board in a perfect fever of terror and anxiety as to what had become of us. In the meantime, we had gone on floundering over broken ice, until we had once more stumbled on the land, but where or what the land was we had fallen upon, nobody knew. It was something certainly to know we were not marching over the Inlet or out to sea, in which case we would have marched on, and in all probability never returned; but in other respects we had rather lost than gained by getting on terra firma. With an atmosphere as thick as pea-soup, and no sun, moon, or stars to be seen, there was no keeping the shore (and to go on one side or the other was to incur the certainty of losing ourselves again, either on the Inlet or on the land) without hugging close up and into a break-neck line of stranded fragments of ice, which indicated the direction of the beach.
“Along this formidable path we floundered on—now coming bump up against some huge fragment of ice, or pitching over the top of it into a hole, excavated in the snow at the bottom, by the whirling eddies of the wind; now walking, now crawling, occasionally tumbling into the snow, until we were all brought up by a cry of pain from one of the men who had met a ‘bouleversement’ over the edge of a bank of ice. It was a sad accident, but the worst of it was, that after setting him on his legs, nothing could induce him to move a step farther. Here he was, and here he maintained he must remain ‘coute qui coute.’ There was no reasoning with the poor fellow, who certainly had sustained a very severe injury, but not anything like so bad as he had imagined it, and it would never do to leave him lying here. So feigning to take him at his word, we proposed to bundle him up in a buffalo-robe and bury him in the snow for the night—comforting him with the assurance that we would certainly come back for him in the morning. This Arctic prescription had a magical effect upon our patient—the back and the broken bones were speedily forgotten, and in a short time he was on his legs again, and we all trudging on once more in the old rough and tumble style of progression, till about midnight, we found ourselves standing under the lee of something which looked like a bank of snow, but which, to our great gratification, proved to be the powder house we had erected on shore in the beginning of the winter. A consultation was now held whether we should cut our way into it and pass the night here, ‘accoutred as we were,’ or make for the ship, which we now knew could not be far off. Our decision was for the latter, and the only question now was, how to steer for the vessel. This, too, was decided upon at last, by each of the party pointing in turn, in the direction in which he thought the vessel lay, and then taking the mean of the bearings. To prevent our separating in the drift (for some of the party had by this time got so benumbed with cold, as to be unable to use their hands to clear their eyelids, and had thus become literally blind with the accumulation of the snow on their eyes), it was agreed that at certain intervals we should call and answer each other’s names, and that those whose eyes had suffered least should take the others in tow. In this order, we proceeded for the vessel, and fortunately by the guidance of a solitary star, that could be faintly distinguished through the drift, got near enough to the ship to hear the wind whistling through the shrouds and were thus guided, rather by the ear than by the eye, to her position, and soon afterwards found ourselves on board, where we were received once more as those from the dead.
“These short journeys, however arduous, in which caches were established for future use, were only preliminary skirmishes to the ‘grand journey’ planned by Captain Kennedy with much forethought and in preparation for which days had been occupied in making suitable apparel, trappings, and sledges. It was expected that the journey would take at least three months. The particular direction our route ought to assume, was, of course, a matter to be regulated very much by the nature of the circumstances that might arise in the course of it. On one point only we were decided, viz. that it should embrace Cape Walker to which, as the point of departure of Sir John Franklin for the unknown regions to the W. and S.W., had he decided upon this course, and not gone up Wellington Channel, much interest naturally attached.
“There were fourteen of the crew disposable in the ship,” continues Captain Kennedy, “of whom four picked men were to go with Mr. Bellot and myself to Cape Walker, while the rest were to accompany us, as a fatigue party, as far as Fury Beach, which was to form the starting-point of the journey. Parties sent out on different occasions during the last two months, had taken in advance six cases of pemmican, six muskets, and a bag of coals. One case of pemmican, as already mentioned, had been deposited in January a few miles north of Fury Point. Our provisions, clothing, and bedding, drawn upon two Indian sleighs by our five dogs, had, of course, been reduced to whatever was strictly indispensable. Five gallons of spirits of wine were taken as a substitute for fuel. With proper management and economy, we hoped to make this last us till the spring, when, by the plan we proposed adopting, of travelling during the night instead of the day, we trusted, should a necessity arise for so doing, to be able to dispense with the use of fuel altogether.
“On the morning of the 20th of February, a scene of general bustle and excitement showed that all our arrangements had been completed, and that the long-deferred start for the grand journey was about to take place. A detachment of five men, Mr. Bellot, and myself, were all that could leave the ship at this time; the others appointed to join us being still under the doctor’s attendance for slight and temporary inconvenience, frost-bites, etc. The whole crew, however, had mustered to see us as far as the south point of Batty Bay, all but our dear Hepburn, who, unable to control his manly emotion at parting with so many old friends, and above all at being unable to accompany us, took a touching farewell of us at the vessel: ‘God bless you,’ said he, grasping my hand with affectionate warmth, ‘I cannot accompany you, and I cannot let all these men witness my emotion: let me part with you here, and may God grant that we meet in life and health, after the long and hazardous journey you are about to undertake.’ Though this veteran hero saw much hardship and hazard in store before us, he would have seen none whatever had he been allowed to accompany us, but I could not for a moment entertain the idea of employing him on a journey, when there were so many younger men all emulous to be engaged on it, and more particularly when his services on board ship were so indispensable; and, by his kindly consenting to remain, I was relieved of all anxiety as respected the Prince Albert.