In 1556 Borough, in the Searchthrift, persevered further east, and, passing between Novaya Zemlya and Waigatz Island, through the strait that bears his name spelt differently, entered the Kara Sea. Next year in the same ship he was given the command of the first Arctic Search Expedition, its object being to discover what had become of Willoughby. Of one ship, the Confidentia, he obtained news in an interview with a man who had bought her sails, but the full story of the disastrous end of the voyage remained a mystery until the Russians found the ships and bodies and Willoughby's journal, and took the ships round to the Dwina. Then for the first time did people realise what it meant to battle with an Arctic winter without preparation, and many were those who withdrew their interest in the frozen north, preferring tropical dangers to the possibility of such accumulating miseries as the journal records in due order in its matter-of-fact way, its last entry being the terribly suggestive—"Unknowen and most wonderful wild beasts assembling in fearful numbers about the ships."
With Stephen Borough in the Chancellor voyage was Arthur Pet—or Pett, a name not unknown in the navy—who, after two centuries, has become notable again through a strange discovery. In search of the much-desired passage by the north-east he sailed from Harwich on the 31st of May, 1580, in the George, of forty tons, accompanied by Charles Jackman, in the William, of twenty tons. His orders were to avoid the open sea and keep the coast in sight all the way out on the starboard side, and William Borough—Stephen's brother, afterwards Comptroller of the Navy—gave him certain instructions and notes.
Arranging with Jackman, whose little vessel sailed badly, to wait for him at Waigatz, Pet went ahead and endeavoured to pass through Burrough Strait, but meeting with trouble from the ice, missed the passage, and working round Waigatz to the south, entered the Kara Sea through Yugor Strait, or as it used to be called after him, Pet Strait. Coasting eastward with the mainland in sight, he was, as might be expected, much hampered by the heavy pack. On being joined by the little William he made for the northward, seeking a way to the east, but the "more and thicker was the ice so that they could go no further," and, after talking the matter over on the 28th of July, Pet and Jackman reluctantly decided to return to Waigatz and there decide on what should be done.
Their way back was difficult. They became shut in so that "they could not stir, labouring only to defend the ice as it came upon them." For one day they were clear of it, but next day, the 16th of August, they were encumbered again, though they got out of the trouble by sailing between the ice and the shore, which was a new experience. In this way they just scraped through Pet Strait, and bore away in the open sea to Kolguiev, both vessels grounding for a time on the sands to the south of that island. On the 22nd of August, two days afterwards, the William parted from the George in a dense fog, while Pet brought his ship home and dropped anchor at Ratcliff on Boxing Day.
The Dutch had for some time been trying to outstrip the English on this route to the far east. In 1565 they had settled at Kola, and about thirteen years afterwards had established the factory at the mouth of the Dwina on the site of Nova Kholmogory, generally known as Archangel. In 1584 Olivier Brunel, their energetic emissary in Russia, sailed on the first Dutch Arctic discovery expedition. He tried in vain to pass through Pet Strait, and the ship, with a valuable cargo of furs and mica, was wrecked on its homeward voyage at the mouth of the Petchora.
Ten years elapsed, and then there sailed from the Texel the expedition of Cornelis Nai, in which the Mercury, of Amsterdam, was commanded by Willem Barents. Barents—really Barentszoon, the son of Bernard—sighted Novaya Zemlya, with which his name was to be thenceforth associated, on the 4th of July, and coasting along its mighty cliffs, peopled with their myriad seabirds, passed Cape Nassau ten days later. Thence reaching 77° 20´, and thus improving on John Davis's record for the highest north, he struggled through the ice to the Orange Islands and back, some twenty-five miles, during which he tacked eighty-one times and thereby sailed some seventeen hundred geographical miles. Failing to proceed further, he came south, and off Pet Strait—named by the Dutchmen Nassau Strait—fell in with the other two ships returning from their unsuccessful attempt to cross the Kara Sea.
Next year a fleet of seven vessels under Nai left the Mars Diep on another endeavour to get through to China. One of the two chief commissioners on board was the famous Van Linschoten, who had been on the previous voyage, and the chief pilot was Barents, who was in the Winthont (Greyhound) with Jacob van Heemskerck as supercargo. Arriving at Pet Strait they found it so blocked with ice that no passage was possible, and Barents, in search of information, went ashore on the mainland south of the strait and made friends—in a way—with the Samoyeds, whose appearance, as described by Gerrit de Veer, was "like that of wild men," dressed as they were in deerskins from head to foot, those of importance wearing caps of coloured cloth lined with fur; for the most part short of stature, with broad flat faces, small eyes, and bow legs; their hair worn long, plaited, and hanging down their backs.
They were evidently suspicious of the Dutchmen, who did their best to be friendly. The chief had placed sentinels all round to see what the new-comers were about and note everything that was bought and sold. One of the sentinels was offered a biscuit, which "he with great thanks took and ate, and while he ate it he still looked diligently about him on all sides, watching what was done." Their reindeer sledges were kept ready—"that run so swiftly with one or two men in them that our horses were not able to follow them." They were unacquainted with firearms, and, when a musket was fired to impress them, "ran and leapt like madmen," but calmed down as soon as they saw there was no malicious intention, to wonder much more, however, when the man with the gun aimed at a flat stone he placed as a mark, and, fortunately, hit and broke it. The meeting ended satisfactorily; "after that we took our leaves one of the other with great friendship on both sides, and when we were in our pinnace we all put off our hats and bowed to them, sounding our trumpet; they in their manner saluting us also, and then went to their sledges again."
SAMOYEDS AND THEIR DWELLINGS