My impatience about the lead would not let me sleep, so at 2 A. M. I had tea ready and sent my two men to reconnoitre. They were gone a long time, and I made up my mind they could find no crossing, when they returned, and said they thought the ice would hold at a place a little west of where we had been watching it.
Turned everyone out, and sent all the sledges across with light loads on each and, when they returned hurried everything else on to them and went across with everyone except Ryan and two of his men (I took the other one with me), who started right back.
While the men were scouting I had written notes of instruction to Marvin, Clark, Captain, Doctor, and Ryan himself, which the last-named took back with him.
With everything over Henson packed his sledges and got away at 8 A. M. My men built an igloo, double rationed their dogs, and I arranged their loads, and put what remained in a prominent cache on a hummock of the old floe on which we camped. A beautiful day but colder, and the going north appeared to be good. I hoped it was.
The point of view makes a great difference. From here the broad “Hudson River” looked much fairer than it did from the other side, and looking across its shining surface to the purple shadows under the opposite ice banks, a very strong imagination might even fancy a resemblance to its namesake.
CHAPTER VI
FROM THE “BIG LEAD” TO 87° 6′ N. LAT.
The night of April 2d was fine until early morning when it clouded up, and when we got under way it was dark and threatening, with a biting wind right from the direction of the Pole, swinging later to the west. The ice was shrouded in the shadowless light peculiar to these conditions, making it almost impossible to see Henson’s trail. I found that our camp floe was an island; a broad lane of young ice separating it from the other ice. After passing two or three more narrow lanes of young ice, we got beyond the most pronounced traces of the recent disturbance, and travelled over heavy old ice, with snow somewhat deeper and softer than south of the “Big Lead.” There was no season’s ice and recent pressure ridges were infrequent. We reached Henson’s igloo where his record told what a hard march they had and how tired they were, etc., etc. The sun, now continuously above the horizon, shone for a bit as we camped.
Thick and blowing from the north all night, and the same when we got under way the 4th. The diffused light made it very difficult to follow the nearly wind-obliterated trail. Frequent snow squalls from the north and west added annoyance. At noon it began to lighten and when we reached Henson’s igloo, the wind had ceased and the sun was trying to shine. Some season’s ice and two narrow leads of recent ice were crossed in this march. The rest of the way we had heavy old floes, some of them the blue hummock kind, on which the going was good, interrupted by old ruptures and belts of rubble ice over which the going was very bad. These places served as nets to catch all the snow blown off the level places, and there it lay soft and deep. It was going that would seriously discourage an ordinary party, but my little brown children of the ice cheerfully tooled their sledges through it with the skill born of life-long experience and habit.
The wind and thick weather came on again during the night of the 4th and continued. We got under way at 3:30 A. M. and found following the trail very difficult in the diffused light, and possible only with constant attention and straining of the eyes. This was distinctly fatiguing, and added to the depressing effect of the weather, was a strain which I made up my mind to avoid as much as possible in future by not travelling in thick weather except when compelled to. The going for the first two hours was through a zone of rafters and rubble with deep snow; after that came old blue-topped floes (some of them more massive than I had ever seen) interrupted by old rafters.
In some places the floes were level, swept free of snow in large patches, and beautifully blue. One bit of season’s ice and two or three narrow leads, or rather cracks, were crossed. I was not surprised at the end of six hours to come upon Henson in camp with his party. “Too thick to travel,” and all more or less worried at being so far away, the hard travelling, etc. I set my men building an igloo, and hoped the sun would clear away the thick weather as it had the day before, and give a chance to start soon. While building my igloo a crack opened with a loud noise nearly all round our place, greatly disturbing Sipsu’s sensitive nerves. Later thick snow came on with the increasing wind. Through carelessness I frosted my entire left cheek during the march and this I anticipated would cause me some annoyance as it was in my heavy beard. After the igloo was built my men overhauled and repaired their sledges thoroughly. All night the wind and snow continued from the west, and during the night (probably with the turn of the tide) the cracks closed up with a good deal of noise, ending with two severe bumps as our floe came to a bearing all around.