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North-Pole Voyages

<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> <div class='chaptertitle'>LOST AND RESCUED.</div> <div class='cap'>THE sun had disappeared, but the moon completed her circuit in the heavens with great beauty. Her nearest approach to the horizon was twenty-five degrees. For eight days after the return of the party to the vessel it shone with almost unclouded brightness, as if to give them a joyful welcome.</div> When November came our explorers were well settled in their winter-quarters. They had made them by judicious ventilation and a careful distribution of heat tolerably comfortable. Below decks they had a uniform temperature of sixty-five degrees above zero, and under the housing of the upper deck it never went below zero, while outside the thermometer averaged twenty-five degrees minus. While shut up in the darkness, relieved only by the light from the sparkling stars and the glowing moon, the daily routine of the ship's' duties were strictly performed. Each had his assigned work. The monotonous meals came at the stated hour, and the bell noted the changing watches. The morning and evening prayers, and the religious observance of the Sabbath, were pleasant and profitable prompters to serious thought. These[32] became more and more needed as the inactive season progressed. The continued darkness without, made dense often by heavy clouds, wore upon the spirits of the men; besides, their light within became less cheerful by the failure of the supply of oil. The lamps refused to burn poor lard, and muddy corks and wads of cotton floating as tapers in saucers filled with it gave but a lurid light and emitted an offensive smoke and odor. It would be strange, indeed, if in this ice-imprisoned company there were no homesick ones, however bravely the feeling might be suppressed. Hans, the Esquimo, at one time packed his clothes and shouldered his rifle to bid the brig's company good-bye. A desperate, lone journey homeward he would have had of it! It was whispered that in addition to his drawings to his mother there was at Fiskernes a lady-love. He, however, was persuaded to stay on shipboard, and Dr. Kane gave him for his sickness a dose of salts and promotion. They worked well, and he seems to have been very contented afterward. The usual resort was had to dramatic performances, fancy balls, and the publication of a paper called the "Ice-blink." A favorite sport was the "fox-chase," in which each sailor in turn led off as fox in a run round the upper deck, followed by the rest in chase. Dr. Kane offered a Guernsey shirt as a prize to the man who held out the longest in the chase. William Godfrey sustained the chase for fourteen minutes, and wore off the shirt. November twenty-seventh the commander sent[33] out a volunteer party under Bonsall to see if the Esquimo had returned to the huts which had been seen in the fall. The darkness at noonday was too great for reading, and the cold was terrible. The party returned after one night's encamping, the sledge having broken, and the tent and luggage being left behind. A few days after Morton started alone to recover the lost articles. In two days and a half he returned bringing every thing. He tramped in that time, with the cold forty degrees below zero, sixty-two miles, making only three halts. The darkness during the time was such that a hummock of ice fifty paces ahead could hardly be seen. The effect of the darkness on the dogs was very marked, but so long as there was any sledging for them to do their spirits kept up. One of the Newfoundlands, named Grim, was a character. He was noted for a profound appreciation of his dinner, of which he never had enough, for a disrelish for work, and a remarkable knowledge of the arts of hypocrisy. His cunning fawning, and the beseeching wink of his eye, procured for him warm quarters in the deck-house, and a bed on the captain's fur coat, while his fellows had to be content with their kennel. Though Grim thus proved his knowledge of the best place at the dog-table, and the best bits it afforded, as well as the best place to sleep, he never could understand a call to the sledge-harness. He always happened at such times to be out of the way. Once, when the dog-team was about to start, he was found hid in a[34] barrel, and was bid join the party. But Grim was equal to the occasion. He went limping across the deck, as much as to say, Would you have a poor lame dog go? The joke was so cute that he was allowed to remain at home, and after that he became suddenly lame as soon as a movement toward the sledges was made. Grim thus attained the usual success of shallow-brained, flattering hypocrisy—many favors and universal contempt. His end, too, was very befitting his life. His master, thinking he was becoming too fat in his lazy dignity, commanded him to join a sledge party. Grown presumptuous by indulgence, he refused, and showed his teeth, besides pleading lameness. But the order was peremptory this time, and a rope was put round his body and attached to the sledge, and he was made to trot after his faithful fellows. At the first halt he contrived to break the rope, and, carrying a few feet of it dragging after him, started in the darkness for the ship. Not having come home when the party returned, search was made for him with lanterns, as it was thought the rope might have caught and detained him in the hummock. His tracks were found not far from the vessel, and then they led away to the shore. Old Grim was never seen again. Grim could be spared, but the explorers were much alarmed soon after his death by a strange disease among the whole pack. They were at times frenzied, and then became stupid. They were taken below, nursed, tended, and doctored with anxiety and care, for on them much depended.[35] But all died except six. Their death threw a cloud over the prospect of further successful exploration. But a still darker event threatened the explorers. Every man was more or less touched with the scurvy, except two, and some were prostrate. It was with great joy, therefore, that, on the twenty-first of January, 1854, they saw the orange-colored tints of the sun faintly tracing the top of the distant hills. Daylight and game would be important medicines for the sick. A month later and Dr. Kane made a long walk, and a hard scramble up a projecting crag of a headland of the bay, and bathed in his welcome rays. It was about a week later before he was seen from the deck of the "Advance." A very busy company now was that on board the brig, making preparations for spring work. The carpenter was making and mending sledges; the tinker making and mending cooking apparatus for the journeys; many busy hands were at work on the furs and blankets for a complete renewed outfit for wearing and sleeping. But though March had come, the average cold was greater than at any time before. Still a sledge party was in readiness to start by the middle of the month, to carry provisions for a new deposit beyond those made in the fall. The party consisted of eight men. A new sledge had been made, smaller than the "Faith," and adapted to the reduced dog-team. To this the load was lashed, a light boat being, placed on top. The men harnessed[36] in but could hardly start it. The boat was then removed and two hundred pounds of the load, and thus relieved away they went, cheered by the hearty "God bless you!" of their shipmates. Dr. Kane had added to their provisions by the way, as an expression of good-will, the whole of his brother's "great wedding cake." But as they started their ever watchful commander thought he saw more good-will than ability to draw the load, and a suspicion, too, impressed him that the new sledge was not all right. So he followed, and found them in camp only five miles away. He said nothing about any new orders for the morning, laughed at the rueful faces of some of them, and heard Petersen's defense of his new sledge as the best which could be made. He saw them all tucked away in their buffaloes, and returned to the brig. We have before referred to a sledge called the "Faith." It was built by Dr. Kane's order, after an English pattern, except that the runners were made lower and wider. It had been thought too large for the present party. The doctor now called up all his remaining men. The "Faith" was put on deck, her runners polished, lashings, a canvas covering, and track-lines were adjusted to her. By one o'clock that night the discarded two hundred pounds of provisions and the boat were lashed on, and away the men went for their sleeping comrades. They were still sound asleep when the "Faith" arrived. The load of the new boat was quietly placed upon it, all put in traveling order, and it was started off[37] on an experimental trip with five men. The success was perfect. The sleepers were then awakened, and all were delighted at the easier draught of the heavier load. Dr. Kane and his party returned to the vessel with the discarded sledge. Ten days slipped away, and no tidings from the depot party. The work of clearing up the ship, and putting the finishing touch to the preparation for the distant northern excursion, which was to crown the efforts of the expedition, and unlock, it was hoped, at last, some of the secrets of the North Pole, progressed daily. At midnight of the eleventh day a sudden tramp was heard on deck, and immediately Sontag, Ohlsen, and Petersen entered the cabin. Their sudden coming was not so startling as their woe-begone, bewildered looks. It was with difficulty that they made their sad tale known. Brooks, Baker, Wilson, and Schubert were all lying on the ice, disabled, with Irish Tom Hickey, who alone was able to minister to their wants. The escaped party had come, at the peril of their own lives, to get aid. They had evidently come a long distance, but how far, and where they had left the suffering ones, they could not tell, nor were they in a condition to be questioned. While the urgent necessities of the new comers were being attended to, Dr. Kane and others were getting ready the "Little Willie," with a buffalo cover, a small tent, and a package of prepared meat called pemmican. Ohlsen seemed to have his senses more than the others, though he was[38] sinking with exhaustion, having been fifty hours without rest. Dr. Kane feeling that he must have a guide or fail to find the lost ones, Ohlsen was put in a fur bag, his legs wrapped up in dog-skins and eider down, and then he was strapped on the sledge. Off dashed the rescue party, nine men besides their commander, carrying only the clothes on their backs. The cold was seventy-eight degrees below the freezing point. Guided by icebergs of colossal size, they hurried across the bay, and traveled sixteen hours with some certainty that they were on the right track. They then began to lose their way. Ohlsen, utterly exhausted, had fallen asleep, and when awakened was plainly bewildered. He could tell nothing about the way, nor the position of the lost ones. He had before said that it was drifting heavily round them when they were left. The situation of the rescue party was becoming critical, and the chance of helping the lost seemed small indeed; they might be anywhere within forty miles. Thus situated Dr. Kane moved on ahead, and clambered up some ice-piles and found himself upon a long, level floe. Thinking the provision party might have been attracted by this as a place to camp, he determined to examine it carefully. He gave orders to liberate Ohlsen, now just able to walk, from his fur bag, and to pitch the tent; then leaving tent, sledge, and every thing behind, except a small allowance of food taken by each man,[39] he commanded the men to proceed across the floe at a good distance from each other. All obeyed cheerfully and promptly, and moved off at a lively step to keep from freezing; yet somehow, either from a sense of loneliness, or involuntarily, there was a constant tendency of the men to huddle together. Exhaustion and cold told fearfully upon them; the stoutest were seized with trembling fits and short breath, and Dr. Kane fell twice fainting on the snow. They had now been eighteen hours out without food or rest, and the darkness of their situation seemed to have no ray of light, when Hans shouted that he thought he saw a sledge track. Hardly daring to believe that their senses did not deceive them, they traced it until footsteps were apparent; following these with religious care they came after awhile in sight of a small American flag fluttering from a hummock. Lower down they espied a little Masonic banner hanging from a tent pole barely above the drift. It was the camp of the lost ones! It was found after an unfaltering march of twenty-one hours. The little tent was nearly covered by the drift. Dr. Kane was the last to come up, and when he reached the tent his men were standing in solemn silence upon each side of it. With great kindness and delicacy of feeling they intimated their wish that he should be the first to go in. He lifted the canvas and crawled in, and in the darkness felt for the poor fellows, who were stretched upon their backs. A burst of welcome[40] within was answered by a joyful shout without. "We expected you," said one, embracing the doctor; "we knew you would come!" For the moment all perils, hunger, and exhaustion were forgotten amid the congratulations and gratitude. The company now numbered fifteen, the cold was intense, but one half the number had to keep stirring outside while the rest crowded into the little tent to sleep. Each took a turn of two hours, and then preparations were made to start homeward. They took the tent, furs for the rescued party, and food for fifty hours, and abandoned every thing else. The tent was folded and laid on the sledge, a bed was then made of eight buffalo skins, the sick, having their limbs carefully sewed up in reindeer skins, were then put in a reclining position on the bed, and other furs and blanket bags thrown around them. The whole was lashed together, allowing only a breathing place opposite the mouth. This embalming of the sufferers, and getting them a good meal, cost four hours of exposure in a cold that had become fifty-five degrees minus. Most of the rescuers had their fingers nipped by the frost. When all was ready the whole company united in a short prayer. Now commenced the fearful journey. The sledge and its load weighed eleven hundred pounds. The hummocks were many; some of them were high, and long deviations round them must be made; some which they climbed over,[41] lifting the sledge after them, were crossed by narrow chasms filled with light snow—fearful traps into which if one fell his death was almost certain. Across these the sledge was drawn, some of them being too wide for it to bridge them, so it had to be sustained by the rope, and steadily too, for the sick could not bear to be lashed so tight as not to be liable to roll off, and the load was top-heavy. In spite of these obstacles all went bravely for six hours. The abandoned tent was nine miles ahead, the sledge on which life depended bravely bore every strain, the new floe was gained, and the traveling improved, so that good hope was entertained that the tent, its covert and rest, would be gained. Just then a strange feeling came over nearly the whole party. Some begged the privilege of sleeping. They were not cold, they said; they did not mind the wind now; all they wanted was a little sleep. Others dropped on the snow and refused to get up. One stood bolt upright, and, with closed eyes, could not be made to speak. The commander boxed, jeered, argued, and reprimanded his men to no purpose. A halt was made and the tent pitched. No fire could be obtained, for nobody's fingers were limber enough to strike fire, so no food or water could be had. Leaving the company in charge of M'Gary, with orders to come on after four hours' rest, Dr. Kane and Godfrey went forward to the tent to get ready a fire and cooked food. They reached the tent in a strange sort of stupor. They remembered nothing only that a bear trotted leisurely[42] ahead of them, stopping once to tear a jumper to pieces which one of the men had dropped the day before, and pausing to toss the tent contemptuously aside. They set it up with difficulty, crept into their fur bags, and slept intensely for three hours. They then arose, succeeded in lighting the cooking lamp, and had a steaming soup ready when the rest arrived. Refreshed with food and rest, the feeble re-adjusted, they commenced the home stretch. Once the old sleepiness came over them, and they in turn slept three minutes by the watch and were benefited. They all reached the brig at one o'clock P.M. All were more or less delirious when they arrived, and could remember nothing of what had happened on the way, with slight exception. The rescue party had been out seventy-two hours; of this time only eight hours were spent in halting. They had traveled about eighty-five miles, most of the distance dragging their sledge. Dr. Hayes took the sick in hand. Two lost one or more toes; and two, Jefferson Baker, a boyhood playfellow of Dr. Kane, and Pierre Schubert, the French cook, died. <hr style="width: 65%;" />[43] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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