The positions of the different bays and headlands on the western side of Robeson Channel we found strangely at variance with the positions assigned to them on the latest American chart; indeed, the shore, as delineated, was quite unrecognizable. The land on the opposite side of the channel seemed, on the contrary, to be very accurately laid down.
With the exception of a little lemming (Myodes torquatus), captured by Captain Nares when he landed in the morning, a solitary dovekie (Uria grylle), fluttering about in the ice-encumbered waters, was the only living thing seen during the day. The first-named little animal was the first of its species caught alive, and excited considerable interest, every one being desirous of obtaining a peep at the diminutive little quadruped. One man, more fortunate than his messmates, was literally besieged, by those less lucky than himself in seeing the animal, with numerous questions regarding its appearance. When asked its colour the man hesitated, finding it difficult to describe; but suddenly brightening up he said, “Why, lemon colour, of course!” an answer that appeared quite satisfactory, agreeing, as it did, so well with its name!
These little mouse-like creatures are the smallest, yet the most numerous and common, of all quadrupeds in the Arctic regions. They are extremely pugnacious and fearless, and often attract attention, when they would otherwise be unobserved, by their shrill cries of rage at an approaching step. They hibernate in burrows under the snow, and live during the summer on the scant vegetation of these regions. When roasted and served up on toast, like sparrows, they were found to be excellent eating, although provokingly small.
On the same hill where the capture of this little animal was effected, our naturalist picked up a marine shell (Astarte borealis), about a mile from the beach, and at least a hundred and fifty feet above the level of the sea. This shell was in excellent preservation, the epidermis still adhering, and in a perfect state.
The apparent freshness of this specimen gave rise to many conjectures regarding the theory of the upheaval of the land, the evidence pointing conclusively to its being both recent and rapid. These regions offer a wide field for the geologist and student of natural history.
Monday, August 30th.—During the forenoon, there being no prospect of pushing forward, a large depôt of provisions, consisting of one thousand rations, was landed. This depôt was established for the use of travelling parties from the “Discovery,” or from our own ship should it be determined to despatch any to the southward. It was not without some difficulty that the heavy casks were transported from the boats to a suitable position sufficiently removed from the encroachments of the pack. Their transit was only effected by a nautical process known as “parbuckling,” by which casks and barrels are either hauled up or lowered down steep inclines.
On the brow of the hill immediately above the depôt a large cairn was erected, in which the usual records were deposited; the provisions themselves being so placed as to form a very conspicuous landmark to any ship passing to the northward, or to any sledge party travelling along the coast line. Whilst engaged in these operations, the pack was observed to slacken considerably, several leads of water opening to the northward, which we fondly hoped would afford us an easy passage towards the attainment of that object which was ever uppermost in our thoughts, and for which we were ready and willing to make any sacrifice—the object of exploring the unknown region, and of reaching a high northern latitude.
Steam was accordingly quickly raised, and another attempt made to proceed; but alas! having incautiously been tempted by promising lanes of water to stray farther from the land than had hitherto been our custom, we were soon hopelessly beset by very heavy ice, of at least eighty or one hundred feet in thickness, and fully ten feet above the surface of the water. So high was it that our boats, suspended at the davits, were seriously endangered, and had in consequence to be “turned in” to avoid being crushed altogether. We were, fortunately, surrounded by loose pieces of broken-off ice, which acting as cushions between the ship and the more massive floes, thereby saved the “Alert” from an unpleasant nip. As there was no saying when we might be deprived of the friendly aid of these “buffers,” by any sudden movement of the pack, steam was kept ready in both boilers in order that we might take immediate advantage of any such motion for the purpose of extricating our vessel from her very unpleasant and perilous position.
An anxious night was spent by all on board, and many ineffectual attempts were made to push our way through cracks in the pack that appeared to be inclined to open. Sleep was out of the question—indeed, was hardly thought of—every one being prepared, with his little bag of necessaries, to abandon the ship when such an order, which seemed inevitable, should be given.
On the following day, by dint of much labour, a space was cleared round the stern of the vessel, which enabled us to ship our rudder, and, the ice having slackened a little, by constantly steaming ahead and astern we succeeded in clearing a larger space in which the ship could be worked, when, boldly attacking the pack, we forced our way through, and with relieved minds and thankful hearts extricated ourselves from our dangerous position, and once more secured the ship in Lincoln Bay. The time occupied in steaming through the pack, a distance of about a mile, was exactly five hours!