THE ROUTINE OF SLEDGE TRAVELLING.
| “We are well persuaded We carry not a heart with us from hence That grows not in a fair consent with ours; Nor leave not one behind, that doth not wish Success and conquest to attend on us.” Henry V. |
On the morning of Monday, the 3rd of April, an unwonted bustle and excitement on board and around the “Alert” betokened that something unusual was taking place. Men in their travelling costumes might have been observed busily engaged in adding the last finishing touches to the already well-packed sledges. Officers, also in travelling attire, were carefully conveying delicate instruments from the ship to the row of sledges drawn up in “line of battle” on the floe, whilst the white ensign flying from the peak bore witness of some important event.
The day was indeed one of memorable import, for it was the one that we had all, during the long dark winter, looked forward to as that on which our real work was to commence. It was the day on which we were to start forth with the object of achieving all that was possible with the means at our disposal, in the great and glorious work of increasing the stock of geographical knowledge respecting the Polar regions. No wonder, then, that the scene of our winter quarters presented an animated and unwonted appearance on that bright but intensely cold morning.
The sledges, seven in number, on two of which were placed the boats to accompany the northern division, were drawn up in single line, one before the other, according to the seniority of their respective leaders. They were all fully equipped and provisioned, and were “manned” by a force of fifty-three officers and men; a chosen band, eager to emulate the deeds of their predecessors, and willing to risk their lives in bringing to a successful issue the task they had resolved to accomplish.
A strict medical examination had been held a day or two previously, and the rather unnecessary question, “Do you feel yourself fit and able in every way to go sledging?” was put to all. It is needless to record the answer!
On the previous day, being Sunday, Pullen preached a capital sermon, drawing comparisons between the undertaking in which we were about to engage, and the march of the Israelites to the Promised Land. The hymn “for those at sea” was sung and the Holy Communion celebrated, at which latter service there was an exceptionally good attendance, the number of communicants amongst the men having largely increased.
From each sledge flew the bright colours of its commander’s standard: a swallow-tailed flag bearing the armorial colours, and emblazoned with the crest of its owner, each charged with the red cross of St. George. In addition, the two boats displayed from their mast-heads Captain Nares’s Union Jack and a white ensign. Worked by the fair hands of some loved and cherished one at home, these standards, as they fluttered out bravely before a gentle breeze, kindled our enthusiasm, whilst they materially added to the spirit and gaiety of the scene.
The sledges were arranged in the following order:—“Marco Polo” (with a boat), “Challenger,” “Victoria” (with a boat), “Poppie,” “Bulldog,” “Alexandra,” and “Bloodhound;” the latter was only a small sledge party ordered to accompany us for three or four days, then supply us with three days’ provisions, and return to the ship to report our progress.
At eleven o’clock, everything being in readiness for a start, all hands assembled on the floe, and prayers were read by Pullen. The hymn, “God, from whom all blessings flow,” was then sung, after which the order was given to “fall in,” and, amidst the hearty cheers of those few who were left behind, the sledging parties moved off. The captain and officers accompanied us for a short distance, when, wishing us Godspeed, they turned to go back. This was a signal for three cheers from the travellers, after which they settled down to their work, and the march was steadily commenced.