The shores of Hudson's Bay are low and barren, and abound in lakes of every size and shape. They are too low to produce glaciers, but are just right for the production of the finest crop of mosquitoes to be found in the world, as has previously been remarked by Franklin, Richardson, Back, and, indeed, all the explorers of this territory. After leaving Marble Island we sailed toward Depot Island, Cape Fullerton, and Whale Point, so that we might see any other ships that had come in this season and get some news from them. We found plenty of ice in Daly Bay and the entrance to Rowe's Welcome, the ice bridge still extending from near Whale Point to Southampton Island.
On Sunday the 8th of August, while moving slowly through the ice-pack off Cape Fullerton, we saw a she-bear and cub asleep on a large cake of ice about a quarter of a mile from the ship, and one of the boats was lowered to go in pursuit. Lieutenant Schwatka, Mr. Williams, and I went in the boat, and quite enjoyed the exciting chase. Before the boat was lowered the bears seemed aware of the presence of danger, and took to the water, the old one in her motherly anxiety for the safety of her cub carrying it on her back most of the time. When they found the boat gaining upon them, and close at hand, they left the water and stood at bay on a cake of ice. A bullet from Lieutenant Schwatka's rifle broke the mother's backbone and she dropped, when Mr. Williams gave her the "coup de grace" with a bullet through her head at close range. We were quite anxious to capture the little fellow alive, but found it difficult to kill the mother without wounding him, as he clung to her poor wounded body with the most touching tenacity. It was heartrending to see him try to cover her body with his own little form, and lick her face and wounds, occasionally rising upon his hind legs and growling a fierce warning to his enemies. At this juncture Lieutenant Schwatka got out upon the ice, and, after several ineffectual attempts, at last succeeded in throwing a rope over the head of the cub, which put him in a towering passion. Nevertheless he was towed alongside the ship and hoisted on deck, together with the carcass of his mother, but he never ceased to growl and rush at every one who approached him. We would gladly have brought him alive to the United States, for he was a handsome little rascal, but the vessel was small and devoid of conveniences for that purpose; so the captain ordered him killed, and his fate was, consequently, sealed with a bullet from Mr. Williams's pistol.
We met the whaler 'Isabella' in Fisher's Strait, and the 'Abbott Lawrence' near Charles Island, and from both got some later news, but no letters from either. We learned from them that the 'Abby Bradford' had gone in already, and must have passed us in Fisher's Strait the day before we met the 'Isabella', in a thick fog that prevailed. We were sorry not to have met the 'Abby Bradford' also, for we felt pretty certain that she must have letters for us; but it seemed scarcely worth while to go back in search of her. The 'Isabella' and 'Abby Bradford' had been in company for twenty-seven days from Resolution Island to Nottingham Island, surrounded by ice all the time and narrowly escaping destruction. The 'Isabella' was carried by the current right upon a large iceberg, which would most certainly have wrecked the vessel; but, when just about to strike, the eddy swept them around and past the berg, though they had entirely lost control of the ship. They were both "nipped" by the ice several times, and on one of these occasions the 'Abby Bradford' suffered such a severe strain that her timbers creaked and groaned terribly, and her deck planks were bowed up. So imminent did their peril appear that the boats and provisions were got out upon the ice preparatory to abandoning the vessel, when, just as it seemed as if she must succumb, the pressure was relaxed and the crew returned to their ship. We had head winds before reaching Resolution Island, but after passing Cape Best the winds were fair, and we made a fine run of six days to the latitude of St. John, N. F. We saw a brig off Hamilton Inlet, evidently trying to beat into that harbor; but saw no more vessels until the 2d of September, when we saw a heavily laden bark some distance ahead of us making toward the west. We changed our course so as to endeavor to head her off, but though we gained upon her considerably, could not overtake her before dark. On the 3d we saw a number of vessels, including one steamer, all, except one large merchantman, bound eastward.
A little humpback whale that came playing around our ship, as if trying to get a harpoon in him, prevented our heading off the steamer and getting some late papers. But as soon as a boat was lowered into the water the fishy representative of King Richard thought it began to look too much like business at this time, and hastened off to look for his mother. We saw quite a large school of humpbacks during the same afternoon, but there was too much wind, with the near prospect of a gale, to render it worth while to hunt them. We had some pretty heavy blows on our way home, and on the last day of August we were struck by a squall that gave us a very good idea of what a gale would be like should it have continued for a day or two; but within twenty minutes of the time it struck us it had passed off, the sun was shining brightly, and we were making sail again, with nothing to indicate what had just taken place save a few barrels of immense hailstones that still covered the deck like so much coarse salt and a chilliness in the atmosphere that made you shiver in spite of yourself. It was fearful, though, while it lasted; the lightning and thunder crashes were almost synchronous, indicating a most unpleasant proximity. Since the night of the 2d of September we had been cut off by southwest winds and enveloped with fogs of varying density. Everything on deck was as wet as if a heavy rain-storm had just passed over, and great drops of water kept dropping from the sails and rigging, making it very unpleasant to venture beyond the cabin.
During the morning of the 7th the fog lifted a little and showed us three fishing-smacks anchored about a mile away, and we directed our course toward them, with the hope of getting some fresh fish as well as some fresh news. Mr. Gilbert, second officer of the 'George and Mary', took me in his boat on board the schooner 'Gertrude', of Provincetown, Mass., whose master, Captain John Dillon, extended a hearty welcome. In answer to our first question he told us who were the Presidential candidates. Captain Dillon prevailed upon me to recount some of the incidents of our sledge journey. He seemed very much interested in the recital, brief as it necessarily was, and hospitably pressed us to dine with him, as it was just about his dinner hour. Desiring to impress upon his steward the importance of his guests he said:—"Steward, it is a great treat to see these gentlemen. You ought to take a good look at them. They have had one of the toughest times you ever heard of. They have just come down from—where?" (aside to me). "King William's Land," said I, scarcely able to retain my composure. "King William's Land," he repeated, "and were looking for Franklin." The doubt in his mind as to who this mythical "Franklin" was seeming to add much to the interest that invested us.
We had a substantial meal of fried haddock, which was particularly enjoyable, in the absence of fresh meat on board our ship since the reindeer meat was exhausted. In the laudable pursuit of information I felt interested in seeing how they lived on board these fishing schooners, and had accepted the kind invitation to dinner as much on that account as for the sake of the fresh fish I anticipated. I saw that the cabin was too small to accommodate a dining-table, but had four very wide bunks in it, one of which was the captain's, and the others occupied by two men each. There is not the same amount of discipline on board these vessels, which are out for so short a time, as upon merchantmen or whalers, and all hands eat at the same table. We found the feast spread in the forecastle, which was also used as the galley, and was consequently oppressively warm to us from the north, in this thick, sultry weather. On each side of the forecastle I observed three large bunks, each of which accommodated at least two men. This was their second voyage this summer, they having been fortunate enough to fill up before their first three months had expired. The crews are usually shipped for three months, and receive about $50 compensation for the voyage. If they get full before the time is up, that is their gain. Sometimes, however, they have an interest in the voyage the same as whalers, but usually, I understand, are paid from $40 to $75 for a season, which means three months unless sooner filled. The men do not fish from the deck of the vessel, but from little flat-bottomed dories, each man paddling his own boat and changing its location to suit his whim. When brought on board the vessel the fish are immediately cleaned, split open and salted right down in the hold, without the formality of putting them in barrels or casks. After they are landed on shore they are dried and assorted according to size and sold by the quintal of 112 pounds, though 100 pounds is estimated as a quintal from the hold of the smack. The 'Gertrude' had already 175 quintals on her second cargo the day we were on board, but the captain seemed much more desirous of hearing of our strange adventures than of imparting the information that I sought. He appeared much impressed with the circumstance that we were "worth looking at," as he said, and dwelt much upon the fact that this summer was a good season for him to see strange things.
"On my first voyage this summer," said he, "that little dory, thirteen and a half feet long, in which two young men are going around the world, came alongside my vessel, and I gave them some water and lucky cake, and now I meet you gentlemen from—where?" (addressing me). "King William's Land," said I. "Oh, yes, King William's Land. Let me have some fish put into your boat before you go." And the kind-hearted fisherman gave us about a barrel of fine fresh cod and haddock, besides a fifty-fathom line and some hooks. He also gave us three late newspapers; and we sent him in return a copy of Hall's "Life Among the Esquimaux," and some other reading matter, besides a pair of sealskin slippers, and a fine walrus skull with the ivory tusks in it. This was a present from Mr. Gilbert. Just as we were about leaving I turned to Mr. Gilbert and said, "The Governor will be glad to hear the news."
"What!" said the surprised skipper, "have you got a real Governor on board?" And then I had to explain that it was merely a title we had bestowed upon Lieutenant Schwatka in view of the faithful care he took of his people, though, I believe, the youngest in the party. The incident was only amusing as showing that the captain had heard so many strange things this morning that he was prepared to believe anything, no matter how absurd it might appear.
The day following our visit to the fishing schooner was still foggy and without a breath of wind stirring. We therefore availed ourselves of the opportunity to use our fish-lines, and succeeded in securing about fifty fine cod and haddock, besides one huge dogfish, which snapped ferociously when hauled into the boat, and had to be despatched with a boat-hook. We experienced considerable squally weather about the middle of September, interspersed with head winds and calms. On the 15th there were several vessels in sight, and a large iron bark came so near that we concluded to send aboard for newspapers. The waist boat was cleared away and the second mate started to intercept the stranger, but scarcely had the boat been lowered into the water when a squall came up and the sea became very rugged, so that in passing to the leeward of the bark, though he shouted out that it was only papers that he wanted, the captain did not hear him, and luffed up into the wind to deaden his headway. But even then the bark drifted ahead so rapidly that it was hard work for our boat to catch it by rowing in such a heavy sea. The stranger then lowered his top-gallant sails and hauled his foreyards aback, and in about twenty-five minutes Mr. Gilbert was alongside. He sprang lightly up the side of the big vessel, and, standing before the captain, with all the characteristic politeness of the French people, presented Captain Baker's compliments and asked for some late papers. The captain of the bark was a splendid old Scotchman who had grown gray battling with stormy seas for many years. But when he found out that all we wanted was newspapers, he was so completely overpowered with surprise that all he could say was, "Well—I'll—be—blanked." This he kept repeating all the way to his cabin as he went to gather some late copies of the 'New York Herald'. When he again came upon deck he had recovered his accustomed composure, and asked where we were from and where bound. He said his vessel was the bark 'Selkirkshire', of Glasgow, from New York the night of the 12th inst., and then turning again to Mr. Gilbert said, "And is that all you wanted? And a fair wind? Why, man, you'll be home to-night. Well—I'll—be—blanked." Never before in all his experience had he known a vessel within two or three days' sail of home, with a fair wind, take so much trouble to stop another merely for the purpose of getting some newspapers. It was rather "a stunner," that is a fact, but at the same time was unintentional. The squall came up after our boat was lowered and prevented Mr. Gilbert doing what he had intended, which was merely to go alongside, get a few papers thrown overboard and drop back, without causing more than five minutes' detention, if any. But the wind prevented their hearing him, when he shouted to them that he only wanted papers, and for them to go ahead, as they missed getting close enough when they passed; so when he saw them taking so much trouble to stop he felt it his duty to pull up and explain on board. Captain Anderson, of the 'Selkirkshire', recovered his equanimity sufficiently to send his best respects to Captain Baker, with the very welcome papers—fresh for us, as there were some as late as the 'Herald' of the Saturday previous. I have no doubt, though, that every time he recalls the episode on his voyage to England he will say to himself, "Well, I'll be——"
Saturday, the 18th, we were becalmed on the George's Bank, about a quarter of a mile from another large bark, bound the same way as we were; and as it is so excessively monotonous at sea, especially in a calm, and knowing that we could not be causing any delay this time, we lowered a boat, and Captain Baker, Lieutenant Schwatka and I paid a visit to Captain Kelly, of the bark 'Thomas Cochrane', of St. John, N. B., fifty-seven days from Gloucester, England, bound for New York. We found Captain Kelly a genial, whole-souled sailor, who received us very cordially, and three hours slipped away most pleasantly in his society. He had his family on board, and said he would have been exceedingly comfortable had he not run short of provisions in such an exceptionally long voyage between the two ports. On the Banks of Newfoundland he had encountered a Norwegian bark loaded with grain, to which he sent a boat with an explanation of his necessities. The captain returned word that he was short himself, but sent a bag of wheat, which he remarked would sustain their lives for some time. Captain Kelly received the wheat graciously, and the next day met an old friend, who sent him stores sufficient to carry him home. Captain Baker told him he could supply him with ship's stores if he desired it, but he said he was all right now and did not require further assistance.