Wars, and rumours of wars, were prevalent, for our latest news came from England at the time when all Europe was disturbed and unsettled by the complexion of affairs in the East.
This made us all the more anxious to get home quickly; but alas! everything was against us. Tempestuous weather, with the wind always contrary, was our introduction to our own element, and, as our coal was running very short, we were obliged to put the ships under canvas and thrash them at it. Icebergs were innumerable, and, as the nights were increasing in length and the darkness in density, they were anything but pleasant neighbours.
On the 12th of September it was blowing so hard and the weather was so thick, that it was determined to seek an anchorage under the lee of the land in Whale Sound, and there wait until the weather moderated. With this object the ships were worked up under fore and aft sails and steam, eventually anchoring in a small bay (Bardin Bay) in close proximity to the Tyndall Glacier. As we came in we observed an Eskimo settlement on the eastern side of the bay, and several natives were seen running along the land towards us; but as the glacier intervened they were unable to communicate, and the weather was too bad to allow us to send a boat to them. This was much to be deplored, as, irrespective of the fact that these people were the first human beings that we had seen for many a long month, it was desirable that we should propitiate them in favour of white men, and for this purpose we had many little articles of infinite value to them, such as knives, needles, thread, scissors, etc., besides provisions, ready for their acceptance.
These natives were of the same tribe as those who were so kind to Kane and Hayes, and also to the “Polaris,” so it would have been a good action, independently of all other reasons, could we have befriended them.
We had not been at anchor, however, more than five hours before a change of wind, accompanied by heavy squalls which came over the hills fast and furious, obliged us to get under weigh, and again put to sea, although the weather was as thick and the wind as strong as ever—added to which hail and snow showers were frequent: altogether a very unpleasant and miserable night was spent, for it was nearly midnight when we were forced to fly from our harbour.
On the 16th we were beating about off the entrance to Lancaster Sound, near Cape Byam Martin. This was all familiar ground to me, and brought back to my recollection scenes on board the old whaler, “Arctic,” that had occurred in the same locality three years before. We made many tacks in our endeavours to weather Cape Walter Bathurst, but, for a long time, without success, for the wind invariably headed us on each tack.
On the 20th several eider-ducks, some turnstones, rotges, and snow-buntings were seen, but all going in a southerly direction, apparently anxious to seek warmer climes before the winter should have claimed both the sea and land. How we envied these birds their means of locomotion! for foul and strong winds causing slow progress, were beginning to be very irksome. Our old friends the “mollies” (fulmar petrels), that we had not seen for so long, again joined us, and might be seen continually darting down and picking up in their voracious maws all scraps that had been thrown overboard.
| FULMAR PETRELS (“MOLLIES”). |
The persistent manner in which the bad weather clung to us was quite marvellous. Hardly a fine day had been enjoyed since we emerged from the ice. The words of Falconer would have been applicable to us, and might have been repeated with truth every morning:
| “A lowering squall obscures the southern sky, Before whose sweeping breath the waters fly. * * * * * It comes resistless! and with foaming sweep, Upturns the whitening surface of the deep.” |