On reaching Cape Bunny, the north-west point of North Somerset, which proved to be an island, they left the coast discovered by Parry in 1819 and, turning south, entered on a previously unknown region. The furthest point to the south in 72° 38′ was reached on June 6th, whence land, seen at a distance of fifty miles, was named Cape Bird. They little knew how near they were to the solution of the Franklin mystery.

The sledge travellers reached the Enterprise again on June 23rd. The strength of all the men was much impaired, mainly from insufficiency of food. Four broke down altogether, one having to be carried on the sledge. The return journey had been a period of intense labour, constant exposure, and insufficient food. M’Clintock alone returned well. They had gone over five hundred miles in thirty-nine days. The weight to be dragged per man was too great, and the whole scheme required revision. Still, it was the greatest Arctic sledge journey that had ever been made up to that time. M’Clintock noted everything, down to the minutest detail, and with the eye of genius saw the numerous improvements that might be made, and the great future that sledge travelling had in the work of polar discovery.

As the summer advanced scurvy broke out, and it was only kept in check by the very large number of birds (2300) that were shot. A long lane had to be cut through the ice, and it was not until quite the end of August that the ships were clear of their winter quarters. Sir James Ross had intended to continue the search in Barrow Strait, but on the very day after leaving Port Leopold the ships were closely beset and drifted helplessly down Lancaster Sound into Baffin’s Bay. They were not released until September 24th, having been firmly fixed in the drifting ice for 24 days. There was nothing for it but to return to England, which they did in the full expectation that they would find the Franklin expedition safely returned before them. Bitter was their disappointment.

In the spring of 1849 the old North Star frigate, under Mr Saunders, the Master who served in the Terror with Sir George Back, was sent out with stores to enable Sir James Ross to continue the search, but he too was unfortunate. Unable to get through the ice of Melville Bay in time, he was obliged to winter in Wolstenholme Sound on the Greenland coast. In the summer of the succeeding year Mr Saunders landed a depôt of provisions at Admiralty Inlet in Lancaster Sound and returned to England.

The results of Sir James Ross’s expedition were the discovery of 150 miles of coast on the western side of North Somerset, the certainty that none of Franklin’s people had been to Fury Beach, and above all the experience gained by M’Clintock. Ross and Bird, who had commenced as Parry’s faithful and loyal midshipmen, had now completed their polar careers[128].

The country was now thoroughly alarmed when it was too late; the warmest sympathy was felt throughout the civilised world, and the Government was forced to take steps on a large scale. The Enterprise and Investigator were re-commissioned and despatched to search by way of Bering Strait, under the command of Captains Collinson and M’Clure, while the Plover was stationed near Cape Barrow as a depôt ship. Two strong bluff-bowed, barque-rigged vessels of 410 and 430 tons, named the Resolute and Assistance, were strengthened and fitted out in the yards of Green and Wigram respectively, and two sharp-bowed screw steamers were bought as tenders, and named the Pioneer and Intrepid. These four vessels, under the command of Captain T. H. Austin, were to search by way of Lancaster Sound. Captain Ommanney was to have the Assistance, with M’Clintock, Mecham, and Vesey Hamilton. Sherard Osborn was to command the Pioneer, J. Bertie Cator the Intrepid. The Admiralty also bought two brigs, which were named the Lady Franklin and Sophia, for another expedition under Captain Penny, a well-known whaling captain in those days. Old Sir John Ross, with some aid from Sir Felix Booth and others, managed to fit out a small schooner called the Felix, towing the Mary, a decked boat.

Sir John Ross declared that Franklin had promised to leave a record for him at Cape Hotham. He had with him Lieutenant Philips, who had been in Ross’s Antarctic expedition on board the Erebus, and that old polar veteran Abernethy. Lady Franklin, with marvellous intuition, felt very strongly that one important route was being omitted—that by Prince Regent’s Inlet. She therefore equipped another schooner named the Prince Albert, under Commander Forsyth, to search in that direction. That warm-hearted and philanthropic American, Mr Grinnell, also fitted out and despatched two small vessels from New York, the Advance and Rescue. Thus no less than twelve vessels were despatched in 1850 in search of Franklin’s expedition.

Since the Enterprise was paid off, M’Clintock had been studying all the details of sledge travelling. He joined the Assistance at Woolwich directly he was appointed, and was absorbed in the work of fitting-out. In Captain Austin he found an officer with a genius for organisation who had been brought up to Arctic work in the splendid school of Parry. He examined into every detail; if care and forethought availed anything there would be no scurvy where Austin commanded. He secured the health and comfort of the men in the winter by fixing the Sylvester stove on the keelson, and sending warm air from it round the living decks, while bathing and all washing was done in the holds, so that the living decks were kept dry and wholesome. Austin was a short, stout man, of florid complexion, fifty years of age and thus rather too old for sledge-work, but he was full of vivacity and life, very kind-hearted, and most sympathetic and thoughtful for those under his command. If there ever was justification for employing an Arctic commander at the age of fifty, it was in the case of Austin. The perfect health of all in the four ships was due to him.

The present writer served on the Assistance under Ommanney. Sir Edward Parry, now near the close of his well-spent life, visited the ships at Greenhithe, and bade us God speed with a few earnest words which went to our hearts. Owing to constant adverse winds in the Atlantic we did not reach the Whale Fish Islands until the 15th of June. We filled up with stores from the transport and on the 25th reached the edge of the Melville Bay ice, where we overtook Penny’s brigs. Then on to battle with that ice for many arduous days, and to come out victorious.

Parry had twice attempted the middle pack. The first time he was successful, but the second time he suffered long detention. It is better to stick to the land floe in Melville Bay and run no risks. Forty days of hard work, towing, tracking, blasting, and cutting docks amidst the fairy scenery of refracted icebergs saw our squadron through the ice and off Cape York, in company with Penny’s brigs, the Felix and the Prince Albert. We gazed on “the crimson cliffs of Beverley,” which were a very pale, scarcely perceptible pink, but dear old Sir John Ross, who was visiting us, staunchly defended the brilliant crimson as correctly depicting, in his book, the colour the snow had in 1818. Here too we were visited by a party of Sir John’s “Arctic Highlanders,” and one of them, a lad of about eighteen named Kalahierua, who also received the names of Erasmus after Captain Ommanney and York after the cape, accepted an invitation to cast in his lot with us, and came on board. Like the Eskimo of Igloolik who drew the Melville Peninsula with such accuracy for Parry, our friend Kalahierua had a wonderful eye for topography. When asked to draw a map of his country he took the pencil and delineated the coast-line with marvellous accuracy, making marks to indicate islands and bird-frequented cliffs, leaving a space where glaciers reach the sea, and marking the places where his people had winter stations, mentioning the names. The northern part of the map was then unknown, but it was afterwards proved to be quite correct.