In February, it became apparent to all of us, that the provisions of the natives were getting low; we saw it in our daily fare—diminished in quantity, if not poorer in quality.
A new and unexpected calamity now threatened us. One misfortune after another had followed us since the wreck of the ship; deliverance had failed us when it was just within our reach; disappointment and untold deprivation had taken its place; but now, as if our past trials were only preparatory for another,—one more frightful than any we had contemplated or looked upon,—the question was presented to us in its most distressing form, whether we should remain among the natives, and, from present appearances, starve to death, or whether, while any strength remained, we should make one more, and perhaps the last effort to reach some other settlement, where we might get provisions enough to live upon. Our prospects never looked more gloomy than at this time.
We were well assured there were huts down along upon the coast, but how far we could not tell; and therefore it was a most hazardous journey, and altogether uncertain whether any one of us would live to reach them.
We were at this time very much reduced in flesh and strength in consequence of short allowance, and therefore greatly incapacitated to endure the labor and fatigue of traveling through the snow, or to withstand for any considerable season the intense cold which then prevailed. And still further, we were aware there would be no protection for us during the long night we should be out; or, it may be, a number of days and nights we should find no shelter. How many fearful odds were against us! Of this fact we were certain: to remain where we were, we should all perish by degrees with starvation; we came therefore to the conclusion, we could but die if we should venture to travel to the next settlement.
The haggard and emaciated countenances of our companions told but too plainly that a change must take place in our living, or soon we should "go the way of all the earth." If our friends at home could have looked in upon us in this time of our last extremity, they would neither have known us, nor would they have supposed, from our appearance, that we could long survive our misfortunes. It is well that we do not always know either the condition or the sufferings of our fellow-men.
It was about this time, while we were anxiously considering our state—what should be done, in what direction to seek for life—a report reached us by means of the natives, that a ship had been cast away on the coast, from seventy to one hundred miles distant, as near as we could judge.
A single ham was brought to the settlement by the natives, which confirmed the truth of the wreck.
This circumstance greatly encouraged us, and determined the first party, consisting of only two, to leave one morning, and to travel in the direction of East Cape. In the afternoon of the same day another party of three left, Mr. Fisher and two others, taking the same course as those did in the morning.
The last party soon came up with the first one, and found the two men nearly exhausted, and overcome by the difficulties of traveling, and by the intenseness of the cold; but by encouragement and hope held out to them, that another day they might find a native settlement, they struggled on through that night. The next day, they pressed on the best they could, making, however, but very slow progress, and seeing but little before them to animate their minds, or to raise up their spirits. They had gone as far as strength, or hope, or the love of life could carry them. They became bewildered, chilled, frost-bitten, and blinded by the flying snow; and as their last resort before they should lie down in death, having given up all prospect of getting any farther, they traveled round and round in a circle; and they were found in this condition when discovered by several natives, who immediately led them to their huts, which were only a mile or two distant.
How these men were kept alive during the time they were exposed to the intense cold of the day, and especially of the cheerless arctic night, seeking the best track they could through an unknown region of valleys, cliffs, ice, snow banks, &c.,—how these men were kept alive, is a matter of profound surprise, and certainly one of those instances of special providence in behalf of the needy and suffering sons of men.