In a future chapter I propose to give a full account of the routine of sledge life, of the equipment and scale of provisions, and of all other details connected with sledging operations in the Arctic Regions. I will now, therefore, proceed at once to give a brief account of our journey, for the purpose of laying out a depôt in the autumn, which occupied three weeks of very severe and harassing work.
At eight o’clock, on the 25th of September, the three officers commanding sledges, myself and Lieutenants Parr and May, assembled at breakfast in sledging costume, and a rattling good breakfast our caterer gave us. At 8.15 our standards were displayed on the sledges, the ship hoisting the ensign. At 8.30 the crews took up their stations alongside their respective sledges, and the order was given to march. Our men stepped out bravely, and as they did so three hearty cheers resounded from the ship. I called a halt and returned the salute with as much emphasis as twenty-four powerful pairs of lungs could give, and then continued the march. The young ice seemed strong enough to bear, so leaving the ice foot, on which the travelling was heavy, we ventured on the new ice. But we had not gone more than a mile when, to my horror, Parr’s sledge, the “Victoria,” went through! It was a case of all hands to the rescue, and after fifteen minutes of hard tugging and hauling we succeeded in dragging it upon a firm piece of ice. But everything was thoroughly saturated. There was nothing for it but to send back at once for another sledge and dry things. This being done, we again proceeded for about three miles, when suddenly I heard a crack, and looking round, there was my sledge through! We dragged it on shore, and unpacking at once, I was glad to find that we had suffered less than the “Victoria;” but it was bad enough. Our tent and gear at the top were of course saturated, and nearly all our biscuit spoilt. However, I did not think it advisable to return, so re-packing we made another start, and shortly afterwards were rejoined by Parr. After marching for twelve miles I halted for the night with the temperature 3° below zero, the tent frozen hard and shrunk considerably. Next day we marched thirteen miles over ice whose blue uneven surface was as smooth as glass, making it very hard work for the men, who were sorely put to it to maintain their footing. They worked splendidly, trudging merrily along, making light of the heavy loads and the treacherous ice, thinking only of performing a good day’s work, and of advancing the depôt as far north as possible.
On the third day, being unable to round a point of land owing to several lanes of water, we were obliged to unload the sledges and carry the things piecemeal across a neck of land about two miles in width and a hundred feet above the level of the sea. On the same evening snow began to fall, and from that time it fell incessantly until our return to the ship, increasing in depth day by day. This, combined with the softness of the snow as it fell, seriously impeded our advance, and we were frequently obliged to halt our sledges whilst the men were employed clearing a road with the shovels. So impervious was the air, owing to the heavy fall of snow, that it was only occasionally that we were able to obtain glimpses of the land as we journeyed onwards, rendering it most difficult to make out its conformation, or even the direction in which the coast line trended.
From the unaccustomed work of dragging, the shoulders of the men began to evince symptoms of rawness, although they constantly shifted their drag belts from one shoulder to the other. In spite of these little drawbacks, and the dull overcast weather that generally prevailed, the spirits of the men never flagged, and every night the labour of the day would be forgotten, and singing and laughter would be the only sounds heard issuing from our little camp, long after we had comfortably settled ourselves in our sleeping bags.
It was amusing to listen to the quaint remarks and witty conversation of the men, as, reclining in their bags and smoking their pipes, they would, regardless of the generally dreaded presence of the commander, broach lower deck topics, and freely discuss and criticize them. I was much surprised at the extensive Arctic knowledge which they possessed, showing that they had read largely on this subject, and were anxious to learn yet more.
I must own that the subject of eating and drinking monopolized a very large share of the conversation; nor did they only occupy our minds whilst awake, for they frequently formed the subject of our dreams. On one occasion when I aroused the men in the morning one of them said, “Oh! I am sorry you called me so soon, sir, for I was dreaming that I was eating plum pudding, and if you had let me finish it would have been as good as a breakfast to me!” Gales of wind were, of course, serious impediments to our advance, and were of not unfrequent occurrence. They invariably necessitated a halt, as, irrespective of the cold wind being productive of frost-bites, it was almost impossible to make way through the blinding snow-drift, which did not admit of anything being seen even at the distance of a yard or two!
On the 4th of October, half our provisions being consumed, and there being the prospect of very heavy travelling before us on our homeward journey, it was decided to return. The depôt was therefore established, on the brow of a ridge just above our encampment. It consisted of 870 lbs. of pemmican and 240 lbs. of bacon. May and myself pushed on, with the object of reaching Cape Joseph Henry; but the weather was too thick to obtain any view, and, for the same reason, it was impossible to ascertain the trend of the coast or the nature of the travelling to the northward. The floes seemed to be composed of very heavy ice, and the hummocks were piled up to a great height along the coast, especially off any projecting points of land. Lieutenant Aldrich had, however, ascended a hill some two thousand feet in height, and was fortunate in having a fine clear day. From Cape Joseph Henry the land, he saw, trended away to the westward, but there was no indication of anything but the impenetrable polar pack to the north. We reached a latitude of about 82° 50′ N. before turning our steps homewards.
On the return journey the dragging became infinitely more irksome and laborious. The snow had accumulated to such a depth as to render some of the ravines and promontories almost impassable, being above the men’s knees nearly all the time. On one occasion we were compelled to take our sledges up a range of hills two hundred and fifty feet above the level of the sea, in order to pass a precipitous cliff, off which was a stream of water, and then to lower them down a steep incline on the opposite side. To add to our difficulties, a sudden fall of temperature produced many severe frost-bites, principally on the feet and toes. Circulation was always restored as speedily as possible by the application of the warm hand, and the injured part was then dressed with glycerine ointment and lint.
The hills, over which we were obliged to take our sledges, subsequently went by the name of the “Frost-bite Range,” in consequence of the many casualties sustained during the time we were on them.