<h2>CHAPTER XL.</h2>
<div class='chaptertitle'>THE "POLARIS."</div>
<div class='cap'>WE have seen that Mr. Hall's enthusiasm for
arctic research was unabated when he returned
from his first adventure. In 1864 he was
off again. He sailed from New London in the
whaler "Monticello," accompanied by his Esquimo
friends, Ebierbing and Tookoolito. The "Monticello"
entered Hudson Bay, landed the daring explorers
on its northern shores, and left them to their
fortunes. From thence they made the long, dreary
journey to King William's Land, where the relics
of Franklin's party had been found, some of whom
Hall hoped to find alive. For five years he lived
an Esquimo life, experiencing many thrilling adventures,
and escaping many imminent dangers.
At one time he saved his own life only by shooting
an assailant who was leading against him a
party who had conspired to murder him. The result
of his long sojourn in this region of cold was a
store of knowledge of the Esquimo habits and
language, but nothing important relating to the
fate of the Franklin expedition. Many sad confirmations
were indeed found of the fact before
generally accepted, that they had all miserably
perished.</div>
<p>On his return, Mr. Hall, nothing daunted by<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</SPAN></span>
hardships and failures, commenced writing and
lecturing on the theory of an open Polar Sea. As
he had done before, so now he succeeded in impressing
not only the popular mind but scientific
men and statesmen with the plausibility of his
theory and the practicability of his plans. Another
North Pole expedition was proposed; Congress
appropriated to it fifty thousand dollars, and
Mr. Hall was appointed its commander. A craft of
about four hundred tons, being larger than either
of its predecessors on the same errand, was selected,
and named the "Polaris." She was a screw-propeller,
and rigged as a fore-topsail schooner. Her
sides were covered with a six-inch white oak planking,
nearly doubling their strength. Her bows
were nearly solid white oak, made sharp, and
sheathed with iron. One of her boilers was fitted
for the use of whale or seal oil, by which steam
could be raised if the coal was exhausted. She
was supplied with five extraordinary boats. One
of these must have been the last Yankee invention
in the boat line. It is represented as having a
capacity to carry twenty-five men, yet weighing
only two hundred and fifty pounds; when not in
use it could be folded up and packed snugly away.
The "Polaris" was, of course, amply equipped
and ably manned, and great and useful results
were expected from her. President Grant is said
to have entered with interest into this enterprise
of Captain Hall, and the nation said, "God bless
him and his perilous undertaking!" though many
doubted the wisdom of any more Arctic expeditions.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</SPAN></span>
A few days before his departure Mr. Hall
received from the hand of his friend, Henry Grinnell,
a flag of historic note. It had fluttered in
the wind near the South Pole with Lieutenant
Wilkes, in 1838; had been borne by De Haven
far northward; it had gone beyond De Haven's
highest in the Kane voyage, and was planted still
farther North Poleward by Hayes. "I believe,"
exclaimed Captain Hall, on receiving it, "that this
flag, in the spring of 1872, will float over a new
world, in which the North Pole star is its crowning
jewel."</p>
<p>The "Polaris" left New York June 29, 1871,
tarried for a few days at New London, and was
last heard from as she was ready to steam northward,
the last of August, from Tussuissak, the
most northern of the Greenland outposts. At
this place Captain Hall met our old acquaintance,
Jensen, of the Hayes expedition. He was flourishing
as "governor" of a few humble huts occupied
by a few humbler people, and he put on
consequential airs in the presence of his white
brother. He would not be a dog-driver again to
an Arctic exploration—not he! Hall says he had
"a face of brass in charging for his dogs." But
the full complement of sixty was made up here,
and his stock of furs was increased.</p>
<p>As our voyagers are now about to enter upon
the terribly earnest conflicts of North Pole explorers,
and as their complement of men <i>and
women</i> are complete, we will further introduce
them to our readers.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The commander, Hall, they know; he is well-proportioned,
muscular, of medium height, quiet,
but completely enthusiastic in his chosen line of
duty, believing thoroughly in himself and his enterprise,
yet believing well too easily of others,
especially of the rough men of his command, some
of whom have grown up under the harsh discipline
of the whale-ship or the naval service. The next
in command is the sailing-master, Captain S. O.
Buddington of our last narrative. Captain Tyson,
commissioned as assistant navigator to the expedition,
has been introduced to the reader at Frobisher
Bay, while in command there of a whale-ship.
We shall have occasion to become very intimate
with him. Here is our old acquaintance,
William Morton, whom we knew so favorably by
his heroic deeds in the Dr. Kane expedition; he
is second mate now.</p>
<p>Of course, Captain Hall's old friends of his first
and second Arctic experience, Ebierbing and
Tookoolito, his wife, are here. They are now
known as Joe and Hannah, and although it does
some violence to our taste to drop their Esquimo
names, we will conform to the usage about us, and
know them in this narrative by these English
names. They are accompanied by an adopted
daughter from among their people, about ten years
old, whom they call Puney.</p>
<div class="figright"><SPAN name="Page_337"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_337.png" width-obs="360" height-obs="500" alt="" /> <span class="caption">Captain Buddington.</span></div>
<p>And here, too, is our old friend Hans, taken on
board at Upernavik. Having been with Kane and
Hayes, nothing daunted by the perils of their
voyages, he is here to see, if possible, with Hall,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</SPAN></span>
the North Pole, though no doubt thinking much
more of his twenty-five dollars a month as hunter
and dog-driver than of the desired discoveries.
His wife and their three children are with him, for,
like a good husband and father, he would not be
separated from his family. The children are Augustina,
a girl about thirteen years, heavy built,
and most as large as her mother; Tobias, a boy
of perhaps eight, and a little girl, Succi, of four
years. Think of such a group daring the known
and unknown perils of Arctic ice and cold!</p>
<p>With the rest of the ship's company we shall
form acquaintance as our narrative progresses.</p>
<p>On the twenty-fourth of August the "Polaris"
left Tussuissak, and fairly began her Arctic fight
in the ice, current, and wind encounters of Melville
Bay. But on she steamed, passing in a few
days through the Bay into the North Water, into
Smith Sound, passing Hayes's winter-quarters, yet
steaming on by Dr. Kane's winter-quarters, not
even pausing to salute our old friends Kalutunah
and Myouk, sailing up the west side of Kennedy
Channel, the scene of Dr. Hayes's conflicts and
heroic achievements, the "Polaris" finally brings
up in the ice barriers of north latitude 82° 16´.
The highest points of previous voyages in this
direction are far south. That new world of which
the North Pole star is "the crowning jewel," is
less than six hundred miles farther. If that open
sea located in this latitude by confident explorers
was only a fact, how easily and how soon would
the brave "Polaris" be there! But the ice-floe,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</SPAN></span>
strong and defiant, and the southern current, were
facts, and the open sea nowhere visible. The
"Polaris" was taken in hand by the ice and current
in the historic, Arctic fashion, and set back
about fifty miles. The Ice King had said, "Thus
far and no farther," and pointed with his frosty
fingers southward.</p>
<p>The "Polaris" early in September was glad to
steam in under the land, anchor to an iceberg,
and make her winter-quarters. Captain Hall
called the harbor "Thank-God Harbor," and the
friendly anchorage "Providence Berg." He had
a right here now, for a little farther north, at a
place he called "Repulse Harbor," he went ashore,
threw the stripes and stars to the breeze, and took
possession of the land "in the name of God and
the President of the United States." We shall
not expect to hear that a territorial representative
from this land enters the next Congress. If this
part of our national domain has a representative
in the life-time of our distinguished acquaintance,
Kalutunah, we nominate him for the position, as
one of the nearest known inhabitants.</p>
<p>Now commenced in earnest preparations for an
Arctic winter. We have seen how this is done,
and Hall and some, at least, of his officers knew
how to do it. The hunters were abroad at once,
and an early prize was a musk-ox weighing three
hundred pounds. His meat was tender and good,
having no musky odor. This was but the beginning
of the good gunning afforded by this far
northern region. Two seals were soon after shot.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</SPAN></span>
The country was found to abound in these, and in
geese, ducks, rabbits, wolves, foxes, partridges, and
bears. The scurvy was not likely to venture near
our explorers.</p>
<p>A pleasant incident occurred on shipboard
about this time which the reader will better appreciate
as our story progresses. It was September
twenty-fourth. The Sabbath religious service
of the preceding day had been conducted by Chaplain
Bryant in his usual happy manner. At its
close Commander Hall made some kind, earnest
remarks to the men by which their rough natures
were made tender, and they sent a letter from the
forecastle to the cabin expressing to him their
thanks. To this he replied in the following
note:—</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Sirs</span>: The reception of your letter of thanks to
me of this date I acknowledge with a heart that
deeply feels and fully appreciates the kindly feeling
that has prompted you to this act. I need not
assure you that your commander has, and ever will
have, a lively interest in your welfare. You have
left your homes, friends, and country; indeed, you
have bid farewell for a time to the whole civilized
world, for the purpose of aiding me in discovering
the mysterious, hidden parts of the earth.
I therefore must and shall care for you as a prudent
father cares for his faithful children."</p>
</div>
<p>October tenth, after careful preparation, Captain
Hall started northward on an experiment in the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</SPAN></span>
way of sledging. He purposed more extended
sledge journeys in the spring, until the Pole itself
should be reached. He took two sledges, drawn
by seven dogs each. Captain Hall and Joe accompanied
one, and Mr. Chester, the mate, and Hans,
the other. Their experience on this trip was simply
of the Arctic kind, of which we have seen so
much. Deep snows, treacherous ice, which was in
a state of change by the action of winds and currents,
intense cold, and vexed and vicious dogs,
all put in their appearance. But Captain Hall
says, "These drawbacks are nothing new to an
Arctic traveler. We laugh at them, and plod on
determined to execute the service faithfully to the
end." The sledge expedition was gone two weeks,
and traveled north fifty miles. They discovered
a lake and a river. They came to the southern
cape of a bay which they had seen from the "Polaris"
in her drift from above. They named the
bay Newman Bay, and attached Senator Sumner's
name to the cape. From the top of an iceberg
they surveyed the bay, and believed it extended
inland thirty miles. Crossing the mouth of the
bay they clambered up its high northern cape,
which they called Brevoort. Here they looked
westward over the waters up which a good distance
past this point the "Polaris" had sailed, and
which they had named Robeson Strait. They
peered longingly into the misty distance, and
fondly hoped to penetrate it with sledge or steamer
in the spring. Joe, the architect of the journey,
built here their sixth snow-hut. It was warmer than<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</SPAN></span>
at Thank-God Harbor, and birds, musk-oxen,
foxes, and rabbits, were seen, and bear and wolf
tracks were in the vicinity. Captain Hall was
joyous at the future prospect. He wrote a dispatch
from this high latitude in which he says,
"We have all been well up to this time." A copy
of it was placed in a copper cylinder and buried
under a pile of stones. The party turned their
faces homeward; Captain Hall's Arctic explorations
were ended.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</SPAN></span></p>
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