On Sunday June 12 the pressure became so tremendous that the ship cracked in every part. She at once began to fill, and the men set to work to remove on to the ice everything necessary for a sledge journey to a place of safety. Towards four o’clock on the following morning the man on watch suddenly burst into the tent. “Turn out if you want to see the last of the Jeannette,” he cried. “There she goes! There she goes!” “Most of us,” writes Melville, “had barely time to arise and look out, when, amid the rattling and banging of her timbers and iron work, the ship righted and stood almost upright; the floes that had come in and crushed her slowly backed off; and as she sank with slightly accelerated velocity, the yardarms were stripped and broken upward parallel to the masts; and so, like a great gaunt skeleton, its hands clasped above its head, she plunged out of sight.”
ESKIMOS SLEDGING
FROM A DRAWING BY CAPT. LYON
On that day they started off with their nine sledges and five boats on their journey of 150 miles to the New Siberian Islands. They carried sixty days’ provisions with them, and had not the men been in an enfeebled condition, and had not circumstances been against them, they could easily have accomplished the distance. As it was, they were too weak to drag all their sledges and boats in a single load, so that every mile of the journey had to be covered seven times, while an unfortunate northerly drift carried them miles out of their course. At last, however, the New Siberian Islands were reached, and, after a short rest, the crew started off in their boats, with only seven days’ provisions, for the Lena Delta. The first cutter was commanded by De Long, the second cutter by Lieutenant Chipps, and the whaleboat by Melville. A storm separated the three boats soon after they had started, and of Chipps and his men nothing more was ever heard. De Long landed on September 16, 1881, near the mouth of the Lena, and he and his companions started off on a long march of ninety-five miles for the nearest settlement. They had provisions for seven days, and their chances of reaching their destination seemed good. Circumstances, however, were once more against them, for they found their way crossed by unfordable tributaries, and, as they had been obliged to abandon their boat, there was nothing for them to do but to wait until ice should bridge over the streams.
On October 6 the first death occurred, and on the following day the miserable party ate their last provisions. To press forward was impossible for most of them, so weak and ill had they become, while to stay where they were meant certain death. De Long and Ambler, the doctor of the party, however, determined to send on two men to find assistance, while they themselves heroically remained behind to take care of their dying comrades. The rest of their story cannot be better told than by quoting extracts from the commander’s diary:—
“Missed Lee. Went down a hole in the bank and camped. Sent back for Lee. He had turned back, lain down, and was ready to die. All united in saying Lord’s Prayer and Creed after supper. Horrible night.”
“October 17, Monday—one hundred and twenty-seventh day. Alexey dying. Doctor baptised him. Read prayers for sick. Mr Collins’ birthday—forty years old. About sunset Alexey died. Exhaustion from starvation.”
“October 22, Saturday—one hundred and thirty-second day. Too weak to carry bodies of Lee and Kaack out on the ice. The doctor, Collins, and I carried them round the corner, out of sight. Then my eye closed up.”
“October 30, Sunday—one hundred and fortieth day. Boyd and Görtz died during the night. Mr Collins dying.”
And here the brave commander’s diary tragically ends. Some months later Melville, who had made his way to the coast in a less inhospitable region, and had organised a search-party as soon as he heard of De Long’s plight, came upon the camp.