Back Aa

North-Pole Voyages

Close

<h2>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> <div class='chaptertitle'>SAVED.</div> <div class='cap'>MATTERS were getting into a serious condition. The delays had been so many that the stock of birds had been eaten, and the men had been for several days on short allowance, which showed itself in their failing strength. They were far out to sea, midway of the Melville Bay navigation, and the boats were receiving a rough handling, and required continual bailing to keep them from sinking.</div> It was just at this crisis that the ever timely aid came. A large seal was seen floating upon a small patch of ice, seeming to be asleep. A signal was given for the "Hope" to fall astern, while the "Faith" approached noiselessly upon him, with stockings drawn over the oars. Petersen lay in the bow with a large English rifle, and as they drew near, the men were so excited that they could scarcely row; the safety of the whole company seemed staked upon the capture of that seal. When within three hundred yards, the oars were taken in, and the boat moved silently on by a scull-oar at the stern. The seal was not asleep, for when just beyond the reach of the ball he raised his head. The thin, care-worn, almost despairing faces of the men showed their deep concern[229] as he appeared about to make his escape. Dr. Kane gave the signal to fire; but poor Petersen, almost paralyzed by anxiety, was trying nervously to get a rest for his gun on the edge of the bow. The seal rose on his fore-flipper, looked curiously around, and coiled himself up for a plunge. The rifle cracked at the instant, and the seal at the same moment drooped his head one side, and stretched his full length on the ice at the brink of his hole. With a frantic yell the men urged the boats to the floe, seized the seal, and bore him to a safer place. They brandished their knives, cut long strips of the seal, and went dancing about the floe, eating and sucking their bloody fingers in wild delight. The seal was large and fat, but not an ounce of him was wasted. A fire was built that night on the floe, and the joyous feast went on until hunger was appeased; they had driven away its gnawings, and, happily, it returned no more. On the first of August they had passed the terrible bay, and sighted land on its southern side. Familiar landmarks of the whalers came in sight. They passed the Duck Islands and Cape Shackelton, and coasted along by the hills, seeking a cove in which to land. One was soon found, the boats drawn up, a little time spent in thanksgiving and congratulations, and then they lay down on the dry land and slept. They continued to coast near the shore, dodging about among the islands, and dropping into the bays, and landing for rest at night. It was at one[230] of these sleeping-halts on the rocks that Petersen saw one of the natives, whom he recognized as an old acquaintance; he was in his kayak seeking eider-down among the rocks. Petersen hailed him, but the man played shy. "Paul Zacharias," shouted Petersen, "don't you know me? I am Carl Petersen!" "No," replied the man; "his wife says he's dead." The native stared at the weather-beaten, long-bearded man for a moment as he loomed up through the fog, and then turned the bow of his boat, and paddled away as if a phantom was pursuing him. Two days after this the explorers were rowing leisurely along in a fog, which had just began to lift and dimly reveal the objects on shore. At this moment a familiar sound came to them over the water. It was the "huk" of the Esquimo, for which they had often taken the bark of a fox or the startling screech of the gulls; but this "huk! huk!" died away in the home-thrilling "halloo!" "Listen, Petersen! what is it?" Petersen listened quietly for a moment, and then, trembling with emotion, said, in an undertone, "Dannemarkers!" Then the whole company stood up and peered into the distant nooks, in breathless silence to catch the sound again. The sound came again, and all was a moment silent. It was the first Christian voice they had heard beyond their own[231] party for two years. But they saw nothing. Was it not a cheat after all of their nervous, excited feelings? The men sat down again and bent to their oars, and their boats swept in for the cape from which the sound proceeded. They scanned narrowly every nook and green spot where the strangers might be found. A full half hour passed in this exciting search. At last the single mast of a small shallop was seen. Petersen, who had kept himself during the search very still and sober, burst into a fit of crying, relieved by broken exclamations of English and Danish, gulping down his words at intervals, and wringing his hands all the while. "'Tis the Upernavik oil-boat!" "The Mariane has come! and Carlie Mossyn—" Petersen had hit the facts. The annual ship, Mariane, had arrived at Proven, and Carlie Mossyn had come up to get the year's supply of blubber from Kinqatok. Here our explorers listened while Carlie, in answer to their questions, gave them a hint of what had been going on in the civilized world during their long absence. The Crimean war had been begun and was in bloody progress, but "Sebastopol wasn't taken!" "Where and what is Sebastopol?" they queried. "But what of America?" Carlie didn't know much about that country, for no whale ships were on the coast, but said "a steamer and a bark passed up a fortnight ago seeking your party." "What of Sir John Franklin?" they next inquired. Carlie said the priest had a German[232] newspaper which said traces of his boats and dead had been found! Yes, found a thousand miles away from the region where our explorers had been looking for them! One more row into the fog and one more halting on the rocks. They all washed clean in the fresh water of the basins, and brushed up their ragged furs and woolens. The next morning they neared the settlement of Upernavik, of which Petersen had been foreman, and they heard the yelling of the dogs as its snowy hill-top showed itself through the mist, and the tolling of the workmen's bells calling them to their daily labor came as sweet music to their ears. They rowed into the big harbor, landed by an old Brewhouse, and hauled their boats up for the last time. A crowd of merry children came round them with cheerful faces and curious eyes. In the crowd were the wife and children of Petersen. Our explorers were safe; their perils were over! Having lived in the open air for eighty-four days, they felt a sense of suffocation within the walls of a house. But divided among many kind, hospitable homes, they drank their coffee and listened to hymns of welcome sung by many voices. The people of Upernavik fitted up a loft for the reception of the wayfarers, and showed them great kindness. They remained until the sixth of September, and then embarked on the Danish vessel "Mariane," whose captain was to leave them at the nearest English port on his way to Denmark.[233] The boat "Faith" was taken on board, as a relic of their perilous adventure; the document box containing their precious records, and the furs on their backs—these were all that were saved of the heroic brig "Advance." The "Mariane" made a short stay at Godhavn. The searching company under Captain Hartstene had left there for the icy north one the twenty-first of July, since which nothing was known of them. The "Mariane" was on the eve of leaving with our explorers when the lookout shouted from the hill-top that a steamer was in the distance. It drew near with a bark in tow, both flying the stars and stripes. The "Faith" was lowered for the last time, and, with Brooks at the helm, Dr. Kane went out to meet them. As they came alongside Captain Hartstene hailed: "Is that Dr. Kane?" "Yes!" Instantly the men sprung into the rigging and gave cheers of welcome; and the whole country, on the arrival of the long-lost explorers, repeated the glad shout of welcome; and the Christian world echoed, "Welcome!" <hr style="width: 65%;" />[234] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2