THE _ALERT_ AND _DISCOVERY_
Sir George Nares appointed to the _Alert_ and
_Discovery_--Overtaking a Season--Red Snow--The Greenland
Mosquito--Peculiarities of Eskimo Dogs--And Dog Whips--Dangers of
Kayaks--Advantages of Steam for Polar Regions--An Unpleasant
Experience--A Huge Walrus--Arctic Scenery--A Big "Bag"--The Ships
part Company--The _Alert_ reaches the Polar Sea--Winter
Quarters--The North Pole attempted--Adventures and Sufferings of
the Party--Lieutenant Parr's Heroism--Deliverance--The Greenland
Attempt--Scurvy and Snow--Repulse Bay--In Pitiable
Plight--Lieutenant Rawson to the Rescue.
"Her Majesty's Government, having determined that an expedition of
Arctic exploration and discovery should be undertaken, My Lords
Commissioners of the Admiralty have been pleased to select you for the
command of the said expedition, the scope and primary object of which
should be to attain the highest northern latitude and, if possible, to
reach the North Pole."
Such was the opening sentence of the official instructions sent to Sir
George Nares to take command of the _Alert_ and _Discovery_, two steam
vessels, which constituted the first expedition the British Government
had sent to the Arctic regions since the search parties for Sir John
Franklin. It was confidently expected that the introduction of the
screw steamer into Arctic navigation would result in startling
achievements, and those expectations were fully justified.
The two ships, with H.M.S. _Valorous_ in consort with provisions, &c.,
on board, left Portsmouth on May 29, 1875. They were home again by
November 2, 1876, and during the intervening eighteen months they had
reached the most northerly point attained by man up to that period, and
only since exceeded, on the sea, by the _Fram_.
No greater contrast can be given of the enormous strides which had been
made in navigation during the thirty years which had elapsed since
Franklin sailed away on his last and fatal voyage, than the fact that
whereas after six weeks' journeying Franklin had barely reached the
region of drift ice, in six weeks from the date of leaving Portsmouth
the _Alert_ and _Discovery_ were almost in the region of perpetual ice.
And all owing to the application of steam to ocean travelling.
The route laid down for the expedition was along the western coast of
Greenland and as far through Robeson Channel, which divides Grinnel Land
from Greenland, as it was possible to get. Disko Bay, half-way up the
Greenland coast, was the spot where the _Alert_ and _Discovery_ were to
part company with the _Valorous_. They entered the Bay on July 4, having
had, on the voyage to the North, the peculiar experience of chasing and
overtaking a season. When they left Portsmouth at the end of May,
summer was well in; but when they arrived at Disko Bay they found that
the mild weather which forms the spring had not yet set in sufficiently
to melt all the winter's snows. So that they had travelled quicker than
the summer, having started after it had begun in England, and arrived in
Greenland before it was due.
The early spring flowers were just commencing to bloom on the slopes
around Disko, wherever the snow had melted, while higher up on the
hills, where the winter's snow still lay, the explorers had an
opportunity of looking upon that curious phenomenon, red snow. A minute
animalcule (_Protococcus nivalis_) generates in the frozen covering of
the earth, and increases so rapidly and in such vast numbers that it
gives to its cold white habitat the hue of its own microscopic body.
Another minute creature also breeds in enormous numbers in these bleak
regions, the mosquito, which one usually associates with dense tropical
jungles and fever-breeding swamps. All along the Greenland coast,
wherever there is a pool of fresh water which thaws from the ice-grip,
the larvae of the mosquito appear in swarms in the spring, and, very
shortly after, the full-fledged insect emerges in the utmost vigour of
irritating stinging life. As the time is short between the period when
the ice melts and when the water freezes again, the Greenland mosquito
has to be active to work out his life mission before he is frozen off,
and the skin of all visitors to his locality gives ample evidence how
well he utilises his opportunities.
In addition to taking on board the surplus stores from the _Valorous_,
the two Arctic ships also took on board teams of dogs for sledging
purposes. Fifty-five in all were shipped, their quarters being situated
on the main deck, where they were necessarily cramped for room, and,
what was worse from their point of view, were unable to get at one
another's throats owing to their being chained to bolts. Consequently
they kept up a constant chorus of snarls and yaps, varied now and again
with a howl as one or another received a remonstrating kick from a
sailor.
This interminable uproar was explained by the Eskimo dog driver, who was
also taken on board, as being due to the fact that most of the dogs were
strangers to one another, and no one was as yet the properly constituted
king.
When Captain McClintock purchased a team of dogs from the Eskimo of King
William's Land, he had a good deal to learn about their peculiarities;
but the people on the _Alert_ and the _Discovery_, having a great many
more dogs than he was able to obtain, had also a great deal more to
learn about them. Sir George Nares, in his account of the expedition,
gives some particulars which were furnished by his Eskimo dog driver,
and these show that the sledge dog is quite as wise as one might expect
from Captain McClintock's experiences.
In every team of dogs, one is the king. He holds that position by
prowess only, and has to fight and thrash every other dog in the team
before he can assume the leadership. When he has once assumed it, he has
to keep it by the same means; for revolutions may at any moment occur,
through some younger dog aspiring to the ruling position. But while a
dog has the position of authority, he exercises his rights with
decision, and the remainder of the team cluster round him and support
him in emergencies, or lie at his feet in times of leisure. The only one
who is allowed to snarl at him without at once being bitten is the
queen. She is among her sex what the king is among his; for though she
depends more upon him for her prominent position than to her own
fighting qualities, she maintains it, when once obtained, by a free use
of her jaws upon encroachers.
Consequently, when a number of teams were brought together on the decks
of the vessels, all strangers to one another, there was a tremendous
amount of fighting in prospect before peace could be granted. Firstly,
the kings of the various teams were anxious to tussle for the supremacy;
and with the prospect of some of them getting badly mauled, there were
several inferiors in each team ready to do battle with their injured
monarch, and, when he was disposed of, with one another, for the
leadership. But their new masters, instead of letting them all loose to
settle their various degrees of authority in their own hereditary
fashion, tied them up where they could see and hear one another without
exchanging a bite. The kings, naturally warlike and ferocious, could
only snap at their inferiors as they bayed in their rage, and the
inferiors could only bay in their pain, and so between them the ship's
company were kept awake by night and annoyed by day.
When at length opportunity occurred for liberating the dogs and giving
them some exercise over the ice, great care had to be taken so as to
prevent a wholesale melee. Each team, as they were freed from their deck
chains, were led on to the ice and made fast to a sledge, two men being
in charge of each sledge for the purpose of learning how to drive. And a
highly exciting time they had of it, for not only did every dog want to
start in its own direction as soon as they were harnessed, but every
team wanted to attack every other team directly they appeared.
Nor were the troubles of the drivers limited to the dogs. The whip which
is used for sledge teams consists of a very short handle and a very long
lash. In the hands of an expert it is a most effective weapon, being
capable of producing a resounding crack or a stinging blow wherever the
wielder desires. But in the hands of a novice it is, like the Australian
stock-whip, prone to do everything that the wielder does not wish. The
amateur driver of a team, growing impatient as his dogs set off at full
speed in various directions, and, besides tangling the harness, upset
the sledge and themselves and very nearly himself as well, lashed out
viciously at the worst offender; but the lash, instead of bringing the
creature to his senses, curled back and hit the striker across the face,
or twined round the legs of his companion, with disastrous results.
Meanwhile the Eskimo driver was going from one group to another, trying
to explain the mysteries of the art, much to the amusement of the
onlookers and the indignation of the inexperienced amateurs.
During the wait at Disko, another form of Arctic travelling was
practised by the officers of the expedition. This was the use of the
Eskimo kayak.
The kayak is a long narrow canoe, entirely covered in with a waterproof
covering. The voyager sits in the middle in a small round hole, the
covering lapping over the edges and being fastened round the waist. The
kayak is thus made as buoyant as a life-belt, whether floating on an
even keel or upside down. By reason of their build, they are peculiarly
"cranky" craft, turning over at the least provocation, and so require
extremely careful handling, unless one is an adept at swimming and
diving. The experience of one of the officers made this clear. He had
securely strapped himself in, when, by a false stroke of the paddle, he
overturned the kayak. He could not get it back again and was unable to
loosen the cover; there was only one way of escape, and that possible
alone to a man familiar with being under water. Loosening his clothes,
he wriggled out of them and came to the surface just in time to avoid
drowning.
Having taken on board all the stores that the _Valorous_ carried, as
well as a full supply of coal, the _Alert_ and the _Discovery_ started
in company for the North. The advantages of steam navigation were made
even more apparent as they proceeded, for the ships were able to steam
through ice-encumbered water which would have been quite impassable for
sailing vessels. Depending so much upon the wind, a sailing vessel is
only able to make headway amongst heavy drifting floes by means of long
hawsers, run out and made fast to a mass of ice and then slowly hauled
in at the capstan. Steamers, on the other hand, experience no difficulty
in forcing their way past and between the lesser floes, and Sir George
Nares, who had had a great deal of experience of sailing vessels in the
ice regions, was frequently astounded at the ease with which the two
steamers rammed their way, clearing from out of their course lumps of
ice which would have been difficult obstacles to a sailing ship.
Those on board, however, were not to escape without some experience of
the peculiarities of ice movements. The vessels were going to make fast
for the night, and a boat's crew was sent from the _Alert_ to carry an
anchor to a large, heavy mass not far distant. On near approach it was
seen that the lump was very rotten, and, as no hold for the anchor
could be found near the water-line, one of the men volunteered to
clamber up to the top and, with an ice chisel, make a hold for it. He
clambered on to the slippery, treacherous mass, and, after a great deal
of very careful exertion, succeeded in reaching a point high enough for
his purpose. He began lustily to drive in the chisel, but so rotten was
the ice, that instead of merely chipping out a crevice, he cracked the
top of the lump. Another blow, and, to his intense amazement, a huge
mass in front of him slid away. Gliding down the side, fortunately away
from the boat, it splashed into the sea. But the removal of so much from
the top of the berg upset its balance, with the result that it swayed
from one side to the other as it recovered its equilibrium. The
unfortunate sailor, with nothing to cling to, had to scramble up and
over the summit as the berg dipped down; but no sooner was he over the
top than the berg swung the other way, and he had to scramble back
again. There was no means of escape until the berg settled down once
more, and in the meantime his companions in the boat and on the steamer
were shouting with laughter at the antics of what they called their
squirrel on the iceberg.
While he was in his lofty if unsteady position, however, he noticed on a
floe not far distant three walrus, and as soon as he returned to the
ship and reported his discovery, a boat with a harpoon and two rifles
was despatched. The three animals lay contentedly enough on the ice,
paying scarcely any heed to the advancing boat, with the result that all
were hit. The two that were shot slid off into the water and sank, but
the one that was harpooned could not escape. He was an immense creature,
measuring over twelve feet in length and eleven feet round the thickest
part; his tusks were over eighteen inches long, and, when cut up, he
yielded five casks of meat, weighing 1250 lbs.
As the two vessels advanced farther to the North they found that the
character of the ice was very different from that met with in the
neighbourhood of Baffin's Bay and Lancaster Sound. It was more massive
and heavy, a berg they passed towering nearly 300 feet above the
water-line, and floes frequently occurring some miles in length and
standing 50 feet out of the water. The possibility of being caught
between such masses and "nipped" was a constant danger, for no vessel
could possibly withstand the tremendous pressure exerted by two floes of
that size colliding. A constant look-out had to be maintained from the
crow's-nest for any sign ahead of the floes closing in, and by careful
navigation anything like a severe "nip" was avoided.
By August 24 they had made such excellent progress as to be nearly at
the end of the hitherto explored channel. A southerly wind was helping
them along, but about four in the afternoon it began to die away. They
were then in Bessel Bay, and in order to see how the ice was ahead, Sir
George Nares decided to land and climb to the top of Cape Morton, which
is some 2000 feet in height. From the summit a magnificent view was
obtained, of which the following description is given by Sir George
Nares in his account of the expedition:--
"It was a beautiful morning, with scarcely a cloud in the sky. The cold,
sharp wind which had benumbed us at the sea-level was local, for, on the
summit of the cape, it was perfectly calm. Sixty miles distant in the
south-west were the Victoria and Albert mountains of Grinnel Land,
fronted by Hans Island showing clear of Cape Bryan, which had Hannah
Island nestling at its base. Farther north was an elevated spur from the
main range which, rising between Archer Fjord and Kennedy Channel,
formed Daly Promontory. Fronting these mountains, and directly separated
from them by an extensive valley extending to the northward from Carl
Ritter Bay, was the black buttress-shaped cliff forming Cape Back, the
southern extremity of the nearly straight running line of flat-topped
coast hills extending twenty miles to Cape Defosse. From that point the
coast line became more hilly, and, joining the Daly mountains, extended
to Cape Lieber, a bluff headland, with Cape Baird, a low, flat point,
jutting out beyond it. Still farther north were the lofty mountains of
Grant's Land with steep cliffs about Cape Union, though seventy miles
distant distinctly visible, forming the western extremity of Robeson
Channel. Nearly due north a slight break in the continuity of the land
showed where Robeson Channel opened into the Polar Sea. On the eastern
side of the strait, at a distance of forty miles, was Cape Lupton, the
notable landmark denominated Polaris Promontory; then came Polaris Bay
with the low plains leading to Newman Bay. At my feet lay Cape Tyson and
Cape Mary Cleverly on the north shore of Petermann Fjord, rising to an
elevation of 1500 feet."
In this district, picturesque and beautiful as portrayed by the
explorer's description, the _Discovery_ wintered, while the _Alert_ went
on farther North. The spot where the _Discovery_ was left, and which was
named Discovery Bay, was a large, well-protected inlet inside an island,
the outer point of which formed Cape Bellot. In the summer it was
sparsely covered with loose ice, but in the winter, sea, hills, cape,
and plains were all covered in the one white garb. As the two vessels
entered the bay early on the morning of August 25, what at first were
taken to be nine boulders were observed on the shore; but as the vessels
swung to their anchors, the boulders were observed to move away. At once
the cry of "musk oxen" was raised, and boats were hastily lowered,
filled with sportsmen keen for the chase. The oxen, disturbed by the
noise, made for the higher ground, where they were followed by the
enthusiastic shooting party until every one of the nine was brought to
the ground.
The following day, August 26, the ships parted company, the _Alert_
taking with her an officer and a sledge team of men from the
_Discovery_, with the idea of sending them back overland when winter
quarters were selected, an idea which had to be abandoned by reason of
the impassable nature of the country. On the last day of the month the
_Alert_ met a particularly heavy floe, the ice forming it being of the
massive character which denoted that its origin was the Polar Sea. Once
the grinding mass of hummocks, rising higher than the vessel's decks,
threatened to catch her. There would have been no hope of escape if they
had, and only by persistently ramming her way through some of the looser
ice did she escape in towards the shore. Next day a strong gale sprang
up from the south-west, and the _Alert_ went along at ten miles an hour
in an open channel between the land and the heavy pack which was
drifting about three miles out. By midday they reached latitude 82 deg. 24'
N., and the flags were run up to the mastheads amid general rejoicing,
for it was the farthest point North to which a ship had yet sailed.
With the channel showing clear ahead of them and the spanking breeze
astern, expectation was high on board that they would be able to sail
right up to latitude 84 deg., but within an hour their hopes were suddenly
and thoroughly checked. On hauling to the westward they rounded a
promontory and found that the land trended away to the west. The wind
veered round to the north-west and drove the ice in upon the channel,
which gradually became narrower until, when off Cape Sheridan, the main
pack was observed to be touching the grounded ice and effectually
barring all further progress. The _Alert_ was run close up to the end of
the channel, and then, when it was certain that there was no chance of
getting through the barrier, she was anchored to a floe which rested
aground off the cape. The next day, as the heavy ice of the pack was
grinding against the stranded floe, and an opening just large enough for
the vessel to get in was observed in the floe, she was warped into the
basin.
She was barely inside when a solid hummock crushed against the opening,
forming a great barrier between the vessel and the outer moving pack.
Had it struck there a few minutes earlier the vessel would have been
severely injured by the "nip," but as it was the hummock formed an
admirable shelter from the pressure of the pack. This was often so
severe that masses over 30,000 tons in weight were broken off and forced
up the inclined shore, rising twelve and fourteen feet higher out of the
water as they crunched along the ground.
On September 4 new ice formed on the water in which the ship was
floating, and from observations taken from high land inshore all doubt
was removed as to where they were. They had navigated to the end of
Robeson Channel and were now in the Polar Sea. No land could be seen to
the north; nothing but a vast wilderness of huge masses of Polar ice,
most of which had evidently been frozen for years. At midnight on the
same day they saw the last of the sun as it sank below the northern
horizon.
Winter was now upon them, and they set to work to make their quarters as
comfortable as possible. Snow came down heavily for some days, but not
for a week or so was it hard enough to cut into the blocks suitable for
building snow houses. When these were built, stores were removed to them
and observatories fitted up for recording the various conditions of the
atmosphere. On September 14 a severe gale sprang up, which caused the
ice to move so much that the thin new ice in the basin was broken up and
a boat's crew were drifted away on to a floe-berg 200 yards from the
ship, from whence they were only rescued after great difficulty and in a
half-frozen condition.
Some days subsequently, while a sledge party was on shore, one man was
badly frost-bitten. He did not know it until some time after, but he had
tried to thaw his frozen foot-wraps in his sleeping-bag instead of first
removing them. The loss of feeling and then of use in his legs crippled
him, and when he was brought on board it was seen what was wrong. This
is one of the several evils men have to carefully guard against in the
excessive cold. So long as they experience the stinging sensation of
cold, they are free from a frost-bite; but a man may have his face
bitten and not realise it until he is told that he has turned dead
white. Circulation has then been arrested, and immediate steps have to
be taken to bring it back, or the flesh becomes dead.
The dogs also began to suffer from a disease which sent them into fits,
and which puzzled the Eskimo driver and the doctors. Some of them
wandered away over the ice and others died, until only fifteen remained
out of thirty, and many of those were thin and weakly. Then, as the cold
increased, ice formed in the chimneys, and damp settled on the beams and
walls between decks every time the cold air was admitted, so that it had
to be constantly sponged up, while the officers had to spread waterproof
coverings over their beds to protect themselves from it when they slept.
On November 8 it was so dark at midday that a newspaper could not be
read, nor could a man be distinguished a dozen yards away. For
eighty-seven days more the sun would be absent, but the moon visited the
dark, cold skies, appearing for ten days without setting, and then going
out of sight for thirteen. On November 13 the cold was so intense that
the mercury froze in the thermometer.
But if it was dark and cold outside, the ship's company made themselves
comfortable. A school was started, a theatre was opened--the Royal
Arctic--and every Thursday they had popular concerts. Exercise was daily
taken and the general health was excellent, only one man being on the
sick-list, and he from a constitutional cause. The men were warmly clad
when "between decks," as the temperature there was never what one might
term hot; but before going outside they had to wrap themselves up in a
variety of thick heavy fur garments, for there was often a difference of
nearly one hundred degrees to be experienced.
The long stretch of winter's darkness was varied by the appearance, from
time to time, of the aurora. This was the phenomenon which so greatly
puzzled, and not infrequently terrified, the early explorers. Assuming a
variety of forms, sometimes like the fringe of a vast curtain hanging in
the sky, at others appearing as bands and streaks of light, waving and
flickering over the heavens, but always with this peculiarity, that
however bright they appeared, no light was given to the surrounding
atmosphere, they were a source of constant interest to the men.
And so the winter passed, not entirely without its pleasures, in spite
of the prolonged darkness. With the beginning of spring active
preparations were made for the sledging trips, which were to carry out
the work of surveying the surrounding land and penetrating farther to
the North than it was possible for the vessels to go. The great majority
of the officers and men on the _Alert_ were told off for these
expeditions, six officers and six men remaining on board, while
fifty-three were split up into two parties, one to survey the coast of
Grant's Land, and the other, under Commander Markham and Lieutenant
Parr, to go North--to the Pole if possible.
The day the start was made the two parties were drawn up in line
alongside the ship, and the chaplain read prayers, after which, with
cheers for one another and the men left behind, they started.
Both did good service, the survey party carrying the survey round the
coast well on to the western side. The North Pole party pressed on in
the face of terrible difficulties until they reached the farthest point
North that had yet been recorded.
In addition to the sledges laden with stores, they dragged with them two
whale-boats in case they should meet with open water. But there was no
sign of it as far as they went. On the contrary, their route lay over
such excessively rough ice that although they travelled as a rule about
ten miles a day, so much of it was spent in getting round inaccessible
hummocks, that the actual progress towards the North rarely exceeded one
mile a day.
When on April 11 they bade their comrades farewell, they had provisions
for seventy days, and all were in good health and spirits. The work of
dragging the boats and sledges up and down the great masses of rugged
ice which covered the Polar Sea was terribly trying, however, and by the
time the ten miles were covered every one was ready to creep into the
sleeping-bags and rest. As the sun began to rise above the horizon it
made the snow and ice sparkle and glitter so much that their eyes,
accustomed for so long to darkness, could not stand it. Goggles had to
be worn to protect the sight, but before they were adopted by all the
members several were affected, and Lieutenant Parr for some days
suffered from snow-blindness, an affliction which fortunately passed
away in time.
As the days went by, the toil of dragging the sledges over the
interminable and monotonous ice became more and more wearying. There was
no variety in the work, no change in the surroundings; and although the
men stuck at their task with true British obstinacy, it began to tell
upon them. One man fell sick, growing weaker and weaker until he was no
longer able to pull, and then was unable to walk. One of the boats was
abandoned, and the sick man laid on a sledge. His condition was more
than disquieting to the leaders, for it was evident he was suffering
from scurvy, and no one could say who would be the next to develop it.
On April 23 they only added a mile and a quarter to their distance, for
they had come upon clumps of ice hummocks which made their progress so
difficult that they had to combine forces to haul first one sledge and
then another over the obstacles. On April 28, when they were seventeen
miles from the shore, they found the track of a hare in the snow, going
towards the land, but with the footprints so close together that the
animal was evidently very weak. Where it had come from, or how it had
got so far from the shore, were riddles they could not solve.
As May came in signs of scurvy made themselves only too evident among
the members of the crew, and on May 11 the leaders decided that the next
day they would have to turn to the south once more. They started with a
light sledge in the morning and pushed on till noon, when they took
their bearings. They had reached latitude 83 deg. 20' 26" N., and were then
only 3991/2 miles from the Pole itself, having beaten all other records of
Arctic explorations.
The little band, weary and sickening, forgot their woes in the presence
of their achievement. A jorum of whisky had been presented to the
expedition by the Dean of Dundee on condition that it was opened in the
highest latitude reached. It was now produced, and the success of their
efforts was toasted, the while each man smoked a cigar, also sent for
consumption in the "farthest North."
A hole was cut in the ice and soundings were taken, the sea being
seventy-two fathoms (432 feet) deep below them, with a clay bottom, the
surface temperature being 28.5 deg. and the temperature at the bottom 28.8 deg..
Then they turned their backs upon the cold, bleak, ice-bound North, and
began the journey home again, a journey which was to prove more trying
than that which they had already accomplished.
The man who had first sickened, and whose name was Porter, had become so
weak that he could not move from the sledge on which he lay wrapped in
a sleeping-bag. Gradually one man after another began to lose his
strength, until three or four were only able to support themselves, and
could give no assistance in hauling the sledges, with the result that
the labour pressed all the more heavily on the remainder of the party,
all of whom were more or less affected by scurvy. The first fortnight of
the return journey was a terribly wearying time to the leaders, for they
saw their men becoming weaker every day, so that the progress was slower
and more difficult, while at the same time the only hope of escape was
to reach land. On the coast it would be possible for relief to meet
them, but out amongst the rugged hummocks of the Polar Sea the whole
ship's company would not be able to find them. The extra work thrown
upon those who were not entirely incapacitated told severely upon their
already enfeebled systems. The toil no longer encouraged their
appetites; instead, the sight of food became nauseous to them, until
towards the end of the month half a pannikin of pemmican was more than
each man could manage to eat. But the toil was still as weary, and the
cold as intense, and without sufficient food to keep up their strength,
the outlook was almost hopeless.
Still, however, the little band of seventeen struggled on, setting an
example of courage, determination, and absolute devotion to discipline
and duty which has won for them as deep an admiration as their
achievement of the "farthest North" record. On June 2 only six men and
the two officers were able to do anything in the way of labour. Five men
lay sick and helpless on the already laden sledges, and four more were
just able to stagger along from point to point after the dreary
procession of sledges. The progress was very slow now, as it required
all the strength which was left in the eight, who alone were able to do
anything, to move one sledge at a time. The second boat had been
abandoned, as it could not be dragged farther, and the strain of moving
the three sledges that remained was so great that when, on June 5, land
was reached after an absence of two months, the entire party was in a
state of collapse.
The next day they rested and debated what was the best course to adopt
to obtain help, for it was outside of their power to drag the sledges
any farther. Porter was almost at death's door, and unless help came
very soon several more would be in a similar condition. Lieutenant Parr
was the strongest, but even he was in a very low condition. That,
however, did not rob him of his courage, nor of his readiness to give
the rest of his life, if necessary, for the rescue of his comrades.
He volunteered to set out alone for the ship, to carry word of the
terrible plight of the party and the need for instant relief. It was
almost a hopeless task, and the heavy hearts of the stricken men,
beating more hopefully at the token of such manly bravery, drooped again
as they remembered the dreary miles of snow and ice which would have to
be covered, and saw the weakened state of their would-be rescuer's
strength. But he was not to be gainsaid; weak as he was, he was yet the
strongest of the party, and he would make the attempt.
On June 7 he started, the little band watching him as he trudged bravely
away, giving him as hearty a cheer as they could. Slowly he made his way
over the frozen shore, and, when he had passed out of sight, the men
looked at one another and wondered. How far would he get before death
overtook him? How long before they all yielded to the same conqueror?
By the next morning one had already gone, Porter passing away after
nearly two months' fighting against the scourge. Commander Markham, and
the four who were alone able to help him, paid the last honours to their
deceased comrade. The British ensign was lowered to half-mast on the
pole of the big sledge and a Union Jack was carefully wrapped round the
body. With great exertion, in their emaciated condition, a place was
hollowed out in the frozen soil, and there they placed him, the funeral
service being read by Commander Markham, who, in his diary, thus wrote
of the ceremony: "Of all the melancholy and mournful duties I have ever
been called upon to perform, this has been the saddest. A death in a
small party like ours, and under the present circumstances, is a most
depressing event, and is keenly felt by all. During the service all
were more or less affected, and many to tears."
A rude cross was fashioned out of a boat's oar and a spare sledge
batten, and it was placed at the head of the grave with the following
inscription: "Beneath this cross lie buried the remains of GEORGE
PORTER, R.M.A., who died June 8, 1876. 'Thy will be done!'"
Anxiously they waited during the rest of the day, wondering as to the
fate of Lieutenant Parr, and half expecting to see him stagger back to
the camp, his splendid courage overcome by the difficulties of his
journey. But he did not return, and the men crept into their
sleeping-bags under the tents scarcely daring to think what the morrow
would bring forth. One or two of the sick men were visibly worse since
the death of Porter, and the next day might mean the end of their lives.
If their gallant rescuer managed to make his way at all, he could not
reach the ship in time for relief to come for another day or two, and no
man dared to speak of what might occur in that interval.
The shouts of men's voices while they were yet within their
sleeping-bags on the morning of June 9 were so unexpected, that, at
first, those who heard them blamed their ears for playing them false.
But it was no deception. Lieutenant Parr, with a magnificent heroism
that deserves honour even among the many brave deeds which British
sailors have performed, struggled on after leaving the camp without a
stop until he came in sight of the _Alert_. Directly he was discovered
he told of his comrades waiting helpless and sick. Relief parties were
formed on the moment, and two officers, Lieutenants May and Moss, with a
dog-team sledge laden with lime-juice and restoratives, started away
while the other sledges were loading.
They pressed on without a halt until they saw the tents of the camp,
when they shouted, as no one was to be seen about the place. They were
up to the tents before any one came out, and when they did it was as
though new life had been given to each man. The lime-juice, of which
they were in such dire want--for by an oversight it had been omitted
from the stores--was at once served round, giving fresh energy to those
who were still able to move about, and greatly relieving those who were
incapacitated.
On the arrival of the remainder of the relief party, the invalids were
all removed to the ship and attended to, every man recovering, under
medical treatment, before the _Alert_ weighed anchor for the South. This
was done in August, when she rejoined the _Discovery_, the officers of
which had also done splendid service in surveying the interior of
Grinnel Land, behind Discovery Bay, and also along the northern coast of
Greenland.
While the _Discovery_ was lying in her winter quarters a successful
attempt was made by Lieutenant Beaumont, accompanied by Dr. Coppinger
and sixteen men, dragging two sledges, to communicate with the _Alert_.
They started away on April 6, while the cold was still nearly 70 deg. below
zero, a temperature which made sleeping almost impossible, as they had
constantly to exercise to maintain their bodily heat. In spite of these
drawbacks, however, the _Alert_ was reached.
The intention was to continue the journey across Robeson Channel over to
Greenland, and to explore as much of the northern coast as was possible.
Reinforced by Lieutenant Rawson and five men, the party started on April
20, from the _Alert_, with four sledges and provisions for fifty-six
days. As they approached the Greenland coast the ice was very rough and
tumbled about in irregular blocks, with heavy snow lying ankle deep.
Arriving at Polaris Bay, a depot of stores was made and a detachment
left in charge, the journey then being resumed; but the ice became more
and more difficult, and the snow deeper. The strength of the whole party
was taxed to the utmost to make any progress, and at the end of each
day's work every one was wearied out with fatigue. Falls were frequent,
owing to the unevenness of the ice, and one man, Hand, was particularly
unfortunate in this respect. By the time that Cape Stanton was reached
he was suffering considerably from stiffness, which was at first
attributed to his tumbles; but when pain began to be manifest in his
legs and gums, the truth of the matter became evident. He was affected
with scurvy.
This discovery was made on May 10, and the leader at once decided to
send him back to Polaris Bay with Lieutenant Rawson and six men. The
remainder of the men were asked to say whether they fancied they were
affected; but all maintained the contrary, and asked to be allowed to
continue the journey.
With six men Lieutenant Beaumont continued the route to the North, while
Lieutenant Rawson returned to the depot at Polaris Bay. On his way other
members of his party developed scurvy, and their plight was so
distressful that for some days before they reached the depot, which they
did on June 3, Lieutenant Rawson and one man alone were able to drag the
sledge, the former being so severely afflicted with snow-blindness that
he had to walk for days with his eyes covered by a bandage. Hand, the
first man affected, died as the sledge came within sight of the camp.
In the meantime Lieutenant Beaumont's party pushed on, difficulties
increasing with every mile. The snow became deeper as they advanced,
until they sank at every step over their knees. Describing it, the
leader said: "The hard crust on the top would only just _not_ bear you,
while the depth prevented you from pushing forward through it, each leg
sinking to about three inches above the knee, and the effort of lifting
them so high as to extricate them from the deep footholes soon began to
tell upon the men." The sun shining on the snow seemed to be unusually
warm, while the exertion made them intensely thirsty, besides so
exhausting them that they had to stop every fifty yards to rest and
recover their breath. They were crossing a wide bay at the time,
striving to reach the other shore, which did not seem to be more than a
mile away. But the clearness of the atmosphere was very deceiving as to
distance, for they struggled on for two days and still the coast only
seemed to be a mile distant.
In order to make the way easier the men were marched four abreast, the
sledge being left until a road was forced through the snow. For five
miles the march was continued, and at the end of that distance the coast
did not appear a yard nearer.
Sending the men back to the sledge with orders to rest till he rejoined
them, Lieutenant Beaumont and one man went forward. But after some hours
of trying effort they did not reach the coast, and were compelled to
turn back, having been able to observe that the shore was composed of
great towering cliffs with the snow piled up at the base. When they
returned to the spot where the sledge had been left, they were
thoroughly worn out by their exertions. As comfortable an encampment as
could be arranged was made, and for two days the party remained resting.
Symptoms of scurvy were making themselves apparent among the men under
the fatigue brought on by their excessive toil; but no word of
complaint was spoken, every man being ready and willing to do his duty.
In the retreat of Commander Markham and his men from the "farthest
North," a splendid example of British heroism and discipline was given.
The story of Lieutenant Beaumont's party furnishes another.
The growing sickness of some of the men and the decreasing store of
provisions brought home to the leader the necessity of a return being
made. At the end of the two days' rest the sledge was turned in the
direction of Polaris Bay and the men retraced their steps, finding the
travelling somewhat easier now that they could use the road they had
made by their previous passage through the snow. But the leader wanted
to be able to form some idea of the coast line beyond where they had
been turned back, and, time after time, he made ineffectual efforts to
reach the shore and scale some high hill. At last he was successful,
after tremendous exertion, in reaching the summit of Dragon Point, an
altitude of 3700 feet. From here he was able to command an extensive
view, the land extending away as far as he could see into a cape which
he named Britannia Cape.
On June 13 they arrived at Repulse Bay depot, and the state of the
health of the men is best shown by the record Lieutenant Beaumont left,
and which was recovered by members of the Greely expedition six years
later. The record, dated June 13, 1876, reads:--
"Three of us have returned from the camp half a mile south to
fetch the remainder of the provisions. Dobing has failed altogether
this morning; Jones is much worse, and cannot last more than two or
three days; Craig is nearly helpless; therefore we cannot hope to
reach Polaris Bay without assistance. Two men cannot do it, so we
will go as far as we can, and live as long as we can. God help us.
L. A. BEAUMONT."
The discovery of this record, and the simple, manly faith and courage it
betokened, was destined to be of great service to another band of
English-speaking explorers in later years, and their opinion of it, and
the admiration they felt for the man who wrote it, will be told in the
account of the Greely expedition.
Meanwhile that Lieutenant Beaumont was making his heroic efforts to save
the men of his party, Lieutenant Rawson was growing anxious as to their
position. As they did not appear, he, on June 22, in company with one of
the Eskimo and a dog-team sledge, started along the coast in search of
them. Three days later they were met--on the last march they could have
made, for they were at the end of their strength. Lieutenant Beaumont,
in his account, says: "On the evening of the 24th we started for our
last journey with the sledge; for, finding that Jones and Gray were
scarcely able to pull, I had determined on reaching the shore to pitch
the tent for the sick men and walk over to Polaris Bay by myself, and
see if there was any one there to help us. If not, to come back and send
Jones and Gray, who could still walk, to the depot, while I remained
with the sick and got them on as best I could."
When Lieutenant Rawson met them, he found the intrepid Beaumont
straining at the sledge, with the two sick men helping him as much as
they could, while on the sledge lay the four helpless invalids, made as
comfortable as circumstances would permit. No time was lost in removing
them to Polaris Bay, where, under medical treatment, all recovered save
one. After a brief rest at Polaris Bay the journey back to the
_Discovery_ was successfully carried out, and Lieutenant Beaumont had
the pleasure of learning that his expedition had added considerably to
the geographical knowledge of Northern Greenland.
Shortly after the return of the sledge parties the _Alert_ rejoined the
_Discovery_, and, towards the end of August, both vessels weighed anchor
and started for England, where they arrived on November 2, 1876, having
been absent for seventeen months, during which time they had carried the
British flag to the "farthest North," and had brought within the
knowledge of man localities previously unknown. They had not reached the
Pole, and had come to the conclusion, after their experiences, that to
do so was beyond the range of human possibility.