17. In this enforced idleness passed away the days between the 9th and 15th inst., save that on the 14th we changed our place by three hundred yards, in order to select a more convenient spot for seal-hunting and to keep up the appearance of travelling—but in truth only the appearance, for in reality our situation had become truly dreadful. There were no events of sudden occurrence either to excite or alarm us, but time flowed on, and our constantly diminishing stock of provisions, like the steady movement of the hands of a clock, spoke with a plainness of speech, that could not be resisted, of the doom impending over us. Hitherto we had patiently endured the severe labours of dragging our heavily-laden boats and sledges from floe to floe, of launching the boats in the small fissures, and again drawing them on to the floes, when the ice became closely packed, often too carrying all the provisions and baggage as we slowly crept along. The least progress was sufficient to fill us with joy and thankfulness. Meanwhile the ice on all sides lay closely packed, and many times we had to wait for a week in our boats on a floe, till the “leads” were pleased to open, while every empty tin case proclaimed, with fearful distinctness, the diminishing of our provisions and the gloominess of our prospects; and now a steady wind from the south destroyed the little progress we had made. After the lapse of two months of indescribable efforts, the distance between us and the ship was not more than nine English miles! The heights of Wilczek Island were still distinctly visible, and its lines of rocks shone with mocking brilliance in the ever-growing day-light. All things seemed to say that after a long struggle with the supremacy of the ice there remained for us but a despairing return to the ship and a third winter there, stript of every hope, and the Frozen Ocean for our grave!
18. Such reflections and prospects were not calculated to raise our spirits or promote calm and deliberate thought, and it was happy for us that the earth was round, and that we were thus prevented from seeing how much ice lay between us and the open sea. No measures were left untried which promised to facilitate our progress or prolong our lives. We ceased to cook with oil, and used spirit instead, in order to lighten the boats. The rations of bread were diminished; even our faithful companion little Pekel fell a victim to necessity. Seals played a greater part still in our cuisine, and everything seemed to depend on the successful use of the four hundred ball-cartridges which still remained in store. On the 15th of July a walrus showed himself close to the boats, but when we made a rush upon him to finish him he disappeared under the waters, and heavy rain drove us back again into the boats. Up to this time all signs of a happy termination of our venture seemed to have disappeared; but the hour of our liberation and escape was nearer than we thought.
19. On the evening of the 15th of July, after finishing our supper, a line of small “leads” running to the south-west opened itself, and we forced our way for about a mile against wind and current coming from the same direction. Next day, July 16, the wind blew from the north-west, and after our boats had been nearly crushed by the ice closing in some smaller “ice-holes,” we ran into a broader and longer “lead.” At noon of this day our latitude was 79° 39′, and we had gone so far that the highest points of Cape Tegetthoff and Wilczek Island were barely discernible—blue shadows surrounded by an edge of yellow vapour, and over the whole a heavy water sky.
20. Up to this date we had been compelled to cross every fissure, a procedure as exhausting for us as it was detrimental to the boats. The least impediment, such as the stoppage of a “lead” by some pieces of ice, had sufficed to cause us hours of laborious efforts. The ice lay thick and close, and its floes were firmly frozen together. But now it was not only somewhat opened, but seldom cemented by frost, and the efforts of fifteen or twenty men generally sufficed to shove apart any two floes with long poles, or remove any barrier which closed a “lead.” If the “leads” closed in so that there was danger lest the boats should be crushed, the crew jumped out and hauled them up on the ice.
The accompanying sketch exhibits one of the scenes that occurred almost daily—the pushing the floes asunder with long poles, in order that the boat might pass between them, while the rotatory motion of the floe closes the fissure in the foreground, so that another boat has to be drawn on the ice as quickly as possible. The baggage of the boat is represented partly as packed on a sledge, or partly lying on the snow, and the men and dogs stand ready to drag it over the floe to the next place of launching. Two other boats, which have found the “lead” open, are on before, and one of them is lying at an ice-field which has to be crossed, waiting for the others to come up.
SCENE ON THE ICE.
21. It sometimes happened that we could not push the floes asunder, and we were then compelled to cross them; and in those cases where the floes were a mile or more in diameter, our progress took the form of sledging. The provision was sent on for some distance to the nearest water, and the boats, which remained behind under the care of the less able-bodied of our party, were lifted on to the sledge when it returned by the rest of the crew, and firmly secured. The smallest of our boats was shoved through the snow while the dogs with their sledge transported the bags of bread and the spirit.