It was evening when we got back to the encampment. On casting our eyes
towards the ship, her appearance, as she lay overlapped with masses of
ice on her beam ends, could not fail to produce a melancholy feeling.
"She'll never float again!" exclaimed the captain with a sigh. "We must
make the best of things, however, as they are."
The men had progressed with the house. It was already habitable, though
much more was to be done to enable us to bear the piercing cold of an
arctic winter.
Next day was employed in getting everything out of the ship, which could
be reached, likely to be useful, as she could no longer afford us a safe
shelter. We began to cut away the bulwarks, the upper planks, and
indeed all the wood we could get at, to serve for fuel as well as to
strengthen the house. While thus employed, the fearful sounds from
which we had for some time been free, again assailed our ears. There
was a sudden movement of our floe, while all around us, and especially
to the northward, we could see the ice heaving and tumbling, huge masses
falling over, and floes rising one above another. Should our floe be
subject to the same violent pressure, a slab might slide over it and
sweep us to destruction. Even should some of the more active manage to
climb to the top, our house and boats and stores must inevitably be
lost, and those who might have escaped at first would, ere long, be
frozen to death.
The hours we thus passed, not knowing at what moment the catastrophe
might occur, were terrible in the extreme. To work was impossible. At
length, however, the disturbance ceased. The intense cold quickly
congealed the broken masses together, and we were able to turn in and
sleep soundly.
The next day all was quiet. The captain was of opinion that we should
move no further north, and that, should our floe become detached, we
might expect to drift to the southward.
The captain's observations showed that at present we were stationary,
but it was still doubtful whether our floe was or was not united to the
main body. The captain, Mr. Patterson, my brother, the boatswain and I,
had been discussing the subject one evening as we sat in the hut, and
were afterwards talking of the Aurora Borealis when I agreed to go out
and ascertain if any of peculiar brilliancy was visible.
On emerging from the hut, I gazed up at the sky. An Aurora was blazing
brilliantly, forming an irregular arch, from which showers of rays of
many colours spread in every direction. I was watching it with intense
admiration, and was intending to go back and call my companions, when
one of the dogs which had followed me gave a loud bark. It was answered
by a growl. Looking over the ice I saw two enormous shaggy monsters,
who, sniffing the air, advanced cautiously towards me. The brave dog
dashed forward. In vain I called him to return.
Satisfied that our visitors were Polar bears which must have come from
the main land, I hurried back, closing the door behind me to prevent
them from entering. The captain, mate, and my brother seized their
rifles, as I did mine, hoping to kill one or both of the intruders. As
we opened the door, a loud cry uttered by a dog reached our ears. One
of the bears had seized the animal and was carrying him off, satisfied
with his prize. The other was creeping on towards the hut. Our bullets
quickly settled him, and he rolled over. We then gave chase to the
other who was carrying off the dog, but we were compelled to stop and
reload, and by the time we had done this, so rapidly did the animal run
that he was far beyond our reach, and all hope of rescuing our canine
companion was over. We regretted the loss of the brave dog. It was a
lesson to us not to let the others loose until we were ready to assist
in attacking any similar visitors. The bear was quickly skinned and cut
up. The skin would serve us for clothing, the fat for fuel, the meat
for food. This visit of the bears showed us that the field of which our
floe formed part must be attached to the land-ice. Our captain being
anxious to visit the shore, intending, should a favourable spot be
found, to form our winter quarters on it--we agreed to set out the next
morning.
Much to our disappointment, when the time came, the captain was unable
to go. He was very unwell, and my brother forbade him to take the
journey. As he did not improve, Andrew was unable to leave him, and it
was finally settled that the mate, Sandy, Ewen, Croil, another man, and
I should form the party to proceed to the land. We had a small sledge
which had been manufactured some time before. To this we attached our
remaining dogs, and loaded it with stores of ammunition and provisions,
including food for the dogs. Each of us carried also a small load as
well as our rifles and long poles to assist our progress. Our
companions cheered us as we set off, several accompanying us part of the
way from the camp. We were by this time pretty well accustomed to
travelling over the ice, but we had great difficulty in making our dogs,
who had not been well trained, pull together, and the mate, losing
patience, declared that he would rather drag the sledge himself, and
that he wished the dogs back again.
"If he were to try it for half an hour he would change his tone,"
observed Sandy to me; "the doggies will get along well enough in a few
days."
"In a few days!" I exclaimed, "I thought that we should get to the
shore by night-fall."
"Many a night will fall before we reach it," answered Sandy. "If we
could go in a straight line over smooth ice, at a jog trot, the case
would be different. We shall have to make our way in and out among the
bergs and hummocks, and maybe to take a long circumbendibus to avoid any
waterholes in our course; we are very likely to fall in with some, solid
as the ice appears hereabouts."
I soon found that Sandy was perfectly correct in his prognostications.
For the early part of the first day we got on well enough. We had our
choice of climbing over numerous ridges from ten to twenty feet in
height, or going round until we could find a passage between them. We
had thus made less than three miles when the night closed in on us. We
then put up our tent, lighted our lamp, and crept into our sleeping
sacks. Though our quarters were rather close, we were more comfortable
than I could have supposed possible. We had a long night, and with the
first streaks of dawn, having breakfasted inside our tent on coffee
boiled over the lamp, we again proceeded. Our dogs, I should have said,
slept outside, and they formed a sufficient guard to give us notice
should any bears approach.
The next day we made even less progress than on the first, though we met
with no accident to hinder us. Sometimes we dragged the sledge over the
hummocks, and sometimes we went round them, the dogs preferring the
former method, as while we toiled they sat up on their tails watching
our proceedings with infinite satisfaction.
The next night I was awakened by hearing a rustling sound, which I
guessed was snow falling, but I soon dropped asleep again forgetting all
about it. In the morning I saw that the sides of the tent were
considerably pressed in, and on drawing aside the curtain which closed
the front, a mass of snow fell inside. Looking out, what was our dismay
to find that we were entirely surrounded. Travelling which was before
difficult would now be doubly so. However, on further examination we
found that, having chosen a sheltered spot under a hummock, the snow had
drifted round us.
We easily, therefore, forced our way out, roused up the half-buried
dogs, whose noses showed their whereabouts, and having taken our morning
meal doubled up our tent and then trudged forward, Sandy leading. We
followed in line, thus making a path for the dogs who without difficulty
kept up with us. Before long we came to a berg from which extended
north and south a line of hummocks. It seemed to bar further progress.
To ascertain which course to pursue, we agreed to climb to the top of
the berg, leaving Ewen and Croil to take charge of the sledge. The
mate, Sandy, and I, at once commenced the ascent. It was no easy work,
and we ran great risk of slipping down again and breaking our limbs.
Still, by persevering, the top at length was gained. We could see the
land very clearly to the westward, and between it and us the ice
appeared far more level than any we had hitherto passed over. To the
north it was utterly impracticable. To the southward we discovered a
passage which we hoped to reach in the course of the day. The mate's
belief was that we were close upon the land-ice, and that by pushing on
we could reach it by nightfall.
Having made these observations we prepared to descend, but we found that
the chance of falling when doing so would be far greater than when
ascending. It appeared, however, from where we stood, that there was a
slope on the southern side where we might get down with comparative
ease. There was, however, a projecting ledge which must be knocked away
before we could reach the slope. We had brought ropes with us, and
Sandy passing one round his waist, begged the mate and me to hold it at
the other end while he advanced with his staff at the point of which he
had secured a huge lump of ice. Using this us a sledge hammer, he began
knocking away at the ledge, and after a few blows the whole mass giving
way went thundering down the slope.
"It's just as well to clear that off," he observed, "or it might have
come down on our heads."
This was the more likely when he told us that he had observed a deep
crack, which had induced him to make the attempt to knock the ledge
away.
We now descended and rejoined Ewen and his companions, who had been
greatly alarmed at seeing the mass of ice come rattling down, supposing
that some accident had happened to us, while they had with difficulty
restrained the dogs from galloping away from them.
We now directed our course southward, and were not disappointed in
finding a passage through the hummocks, which enabled us to get on the
smoother land-ice. We had, however, soon to camp. To render our tent
warm, having cleared away the snow, we built a wall round it which
sheltered us from the wind.
On the evening of the second day after this, we reached the shore, which
rose bleak and barren before us. Yet it was a satisfaction to set our
feet on firm ground. We landed in a small bay, the shore for a short
distance shelving up to the foot of the cliffs, which--as they extended
round to the east--would, we agreed, afford us shelter from the more
bitter blasts of winter. The rocks were bare and rugged. Here and
there a few lichens appeared, which to our eyes, long unaccustomed to
anything of a green tint, seemed very pleasant.
"This will do!" cried the mate, "if our shipmates can reach this, we may
pass the winter far better than we should have done on the open floe."
As we had but a few more minutes of daylight, we hurriedly pitched our
tent on a level spot close under the rocks, piling up the snow around it
as before.
The mate was anxious to return at once with the news of our success, and
to guide the party to the shore. He hoped, with a good night's rest, to
be able to set off early in the morning, and to perform a great part of
the distance before night-fall.
Sandy suggested, that it would be as well if some of us remained, as it
would be necessary to carry but few articles on the sledge, and the dogs
would the more easily perform the journey. He offered to go with Ewen
and Croil, but to this the mate would not agree, and announced his
intention to set off with Croil, leaving the rest of us to build a snow
hut for the reception of the party.
We had brought, I should have said, a couple of lamps with sufficient
oil. We were therefore provided with one of the chief necessaries of
life. We hoped also to shoot a bear, or perhaps some birds, to increase
our stock of provisions.
When morning returned, however, a storm was blowing outside the bay,
though within we were tolerably sheltered from its fury. To have
attempted to cross the ice while it continued would have been madness.
The mate and Sandy therefore assisted us in putting up a hut. We had
abundance of snow from a drift collected on the opposite side of the
bay, though we soon exhausted that which lay immediately round us. The
storm, however, increased to such an extent that we were compelled to
take shelter within our tent, which, had it not been surrounded by a
snow wall, would inevitably have been blown down. As we sat crowded
together in our tent, waiting for the cessation of the storm, the
howling and roaring of the wind among the rocks in no way served to
raise our spirits, but rather increased the gloomy forebodings of evil
which stole over us.
The mate announced his intention of taking a look round, to see what
prospect there was of the weather clearing.
"Stay here, lads," he said, taking up his gun, "there's no reason why
you should be exposed to the cold. I'm more accustomed to it than you
are."
"Not more than me, sir," said Sandy; "I'll go with you, if you like."
"No, no, boatswain. You stay and look after the others. You are older
than I am, at all events, and require more rest."
Saying this the mate went out and closed the door of the tent.
Ewen, Croil, and the seaman were asleep. Sandy and I talked on for some
time.
"Wonder the mate doesn't come back," said the boatswain. "I'm afraid
something has happened to him. He can't have lost his way on the ice,
but he may have slipped over a rock, or into a seal hole, if any are to
be found close in shore."
We waited a little longer, and at length Sandy, starting up, exclaimed,
"We must go and look for him."
Just then our ears were saluted by a loud roar, which made the rest of
the party jump up. We all hastened out. No one was to be seen.
"Where did the sound come from?" asked Sandy. "I thought it was quite
near."
"From the other side of the rock," I answered.
We hastened towards the spot, in the direction to which I pointed. We
all had our guns in our hands ready for an encounter with a bear, which
we expected to see. What was my horror on getting round the rock to
discover the mate on the ground, a huge shaggy monster standing over
him. We crept on, afraid, should we shout, that the bear might carry
off his victim. Whether the mate was dead or alive, we could not tell,
but he lay perfectly still. Sandy was leading, but he was not a
first-rate shot, and I would rather have trusted to my own rifle. At
last the bear made a movement, and Sandy, thinking he was going to bite
the mate, fired, but he only wounded the animal in the back. What was
my horror to see it seize the mate by the body and scamper off with him.
We all fired, but dared not aim at the animal's head, believing that
the mate was still alive, for fear of killing him. I stopped to reload,
as did Ewen.
"After him, lads," shouted Sandy, but the bear was far too fleet for us
to overtake, and to our grief and dismay disappeared with his victim
behind the rocks to the northward.
We searched in vain for our companion. Though we traced the way the
bear had gone by the crimson stains on the white snow, it convinced us
that the poor mate was killed. To follow further would have been
useless. With sad hearts we returned to our tent, almost frozen by the
cold blast, to spend the most melancholy night we had yet passed.
We had now to settle on our future proceedings. Sandy had become the
leader of the party. He proposed returning to the ship, but none of us
wished to be left behind, and preferred rather to undergo the toils and
risks of the journey than to remain on shore. But of this Sandy would
not hear. He declared that he could go very well with only one of us,
and that the other three by remaining--I acting as officer--could manage
well enough by ourselves.
At last I gave in, and Sandy with the seaman set off as soon as the wind
had abated. We watched them as they made their way over the plain of
ice, their forms diminishing into mere dots, then finally disappearing.
We in the meantime were working away to complete our hut and to render
it as habitable as possible. The flesh of the bear we had killed
afforded us an ample supply of food, while the fat served to increase
our stock of fuel. There was probably drift-wood on the shore, but
except a few pieces which stuck up above the snow, we could obtain none.
We took care of every scrap we could find, not to burn, but to
manufacture into such articles as we might require. In the crevices of
the rocks we discovered some low creeping plants which in any other
region would have been bushes, but were here a mere collection of twigs,
no thicker than our little fingers, just appearing above the ground. We
agreed that each should take certain duties, and it was settled that
Croil should stay at home and look after the hut, employing himself in
either cooking or scraping the bear's skin to make it fit for use as a
covering. Should we kill a sufficient number of bears, we intended to
fasten the skins of some of them together so as to form a roof to our
hut, while others would make great-coats or bed coverings.
Soon after Sandy and his companion had departed, Ewen and I took our
guns both for the sake of exercise and to try and shoot bears,
reindeers, or musk oxen which we thought it possible might be found in
that region. We were not aware that the latter animals had migrated
southward by that time, or indeed that they were likely to be found only
on level ground where the depth of the snow was not sufficient to
prevent them from getting at the moss or lichens beneath. I was
thankful to have Ewen as my companion. He had greatly improved since he
came on board and showed that he possessed qualities which I did not
before suspect, so that I felt for him as I should for a brother. The
atmosphere had become calm and comparatively warm though the snow
remained hard and crisp.
Ewen and I kept under the cliffs and were tempted to make our way much
further south than we had hitherto gone, in the hopes of discovering
some opening into the interior of the country. We at last reached a
part of the cliffs where, though very rugged, they were less precipitous
than in other parts. The sun was sinking behind them, but we still had
abundance of daylight for exploring. Ewen offered to climb to the top
in the hopes of obtaining an extensive view and perhaps of finding level
ground where we should have the chance of finding deer or oxen. There
was no reason why we should both run the risk, for a risk there was,
though a slight one.
"Let me make the attempt alone, while you remain below, and point out to
me the best path to take," he said.
I did not much like to do this, but he declared that if I insisted on
going he would give up the expedition. As I saw the sense of his
proposal, I consented, and he commenced climbing up, rifle in hand. He
had gone some distance when I saw a creature creeping along the rocks
above his head, and directly afterwards, as it came more into sight, I
saw that it was a huge bear. I shouted to him, to draw his attention to
it, should he not have discovered the animal. He stopped and began to
descend to a position from whence he could take a steady aim at the
monster, should it come within his reach. What was my horror directly
afterwards to see two other bears crawling out from among the rocks by
which they had hitherto been concealed, evidently having discovered him.
It seemed impossible that he should escape. I shouted to him, when he
again began clambering up the rock. To my dismay, as he did so the
first bear crawled down and seated itself on a point so as to intercept
him.
The two other creatures got closer and closer with the evident intention
of seizing him. I trembled for his safety, and hurried to the nearest
spot from which I could take a steady aim.
"Never mind the fellow above you," I shouted. "If you will shoot the
ere nearest to you, I will manage the other, and we will then tackle the
third if he attempts to come down."
I could well enter into Ewen's feelings. It was surprising, in the
perilous position in which he was placed, that he should have retained
any presence of mind.
Following my advice, he sat himself down on the rock and took aim,
waiting until I should fire.
"Now!" I cried, and we both pulled our triggers at the same moment.
I own that I trembled lest either one or both of us might miss, in which
case it seemed impossible that he should escape destruction. As the
smoke cleared away from before my eyes, I saw the bears in motion, but
instead of advancing they both fell back and came tumbling down the
cliff close to where I was standing. I rapidly loaded, as did Ewen. We
had still another antagonist to contend with, whom he must tackle alone,
for I could not help him.
Just as I expected to see the bear crawling down the rocks to seize my
friend, to my infinite satisfaction, the creature, alarmed by the
reports, turned tail and began clambering up the cliff.
I shouted to Ewen not to shoot, as, should he only wound the bear, it
might in its rage turn and attack him. I also had to look after one of
the others, who though wounded, was not dead, and recovering from its
fall, was looking about apparently for the foe who had injured it. On
espying me it began to advance, growling furiously. As blood was
flowing from behind its shoulder, I hoped that it might soon drop, but
in the meantime it might tear me to pieces, and perhaps treat Ewen in
the same way. To run from a bear is at all times very dangerous, unless
to gain protection of some sort at no great distance; for the bear--
clumsy as it looks--can run much faster than a man. I, therefore,
having reloaded my rifle, stood with it ready to send a shot through the
animal's head. I waited until the wounded bear was almost close upon
me, and I could not refrain from uttering a shout of satisfaction as it
rolled over perfectly dead. Ewen in the meantime, approaching the
other, had finished it by firing a bullet through its head.
"I wish that we had the sledge to take home the meat and skins,"
observed Ewen, "but we must carry as much as we can."
Our fear was that, should we leave the meat, other bears, of whom there
appeared to be a whole colony in the neighbourhood, would come and
devour it. We managed to get off the skins, which were likely to prove
most valuable to us; and, loaded with them and a portion of the meat, we
returned to the hut, where we found Croil anxiously looking out for us.
He too, had seen a couple of bears moving across the bay, and was afraid
that we might have been attacked by them, and suffered the fate of the
poor mate.