PREPARATIONS FOR WINTERING. 13TH SEPTEMBER TO
7TH NOVEMBER, 1869.[51]
Hunting.--Supplying the ship with water for the
winter.--Forewarnings of winter.--Frost.--Habits of birds
of passage.--Return of the discoverers of the Fligely
Fjord.--Laying up of the ship for the winter.--State of
the Germania’s winter harbour.--Need of a good harbour for
Arctic wintering.--Heaving up anchor.--Laying up of the
ship.--Evening on the ice.--Skating.--Securing the hull
against the winter cold.--Wall of ice-blocks round the
ship.--Fine autumnal weather.--Storm.--Sun disappears the 6th
November.--Vegetation.--Scurvy-grass.--Visit from a bear.--A
bear-hunter.--A black fox.--Dredging.
The Germania, as we have seen, had anchored once more under Sabine
Island on the 13th of September; having thus performed a voyage of five
weeks and a half; a space of time in which much might be done with
steam, if only one had open water; instead of which we could only run
along the coast by small stretches, as both in the north and the south,
and also in the creeks to westward, solid masses of ice met the ship,
which it was impossible to overcome. Attempts had therefore to be made
to explore the land, independently of the ship. Accordingly, on the
following day, the 14th, a journey was undertaken to Falsche Bay.
Wintering under Sabine Island in the small “Germania Harbour,” where
on the 5th of August we had first cast anchor, now seemed an absolute
necessity; and Mr. Sengstacke was commissioned by the captain, in his
absence to make all necessary arrangements.
It was a fine, clear spring day, the 14th of September, at two p.m.,
when, with high hopes, we saw the well-packed boat take its way through
the young ice and disappear behind the tongue of land. The day before,
Dr. Copeland and Sengstacke had gone hunting, and had fired at a
reindeer, when the practised eye of the former saw a dark moving mass
high on the Hasenberg, which could be nothing else than musk-oxen. This
discovery set all in joyful excitement. We now knew that this creature
visited our island, and we therefore had the prospect of successfully
hunting some, which would form a treasured store of meat for the
winter. As it was already late, the hunt had to be put off until the
morning. Fortunately, the next day was just as fine and cloudless, and
Dr. Copeland started early, accompanied by Louis Wagner, the stoker.
Let us hear the events of this day:--
“On the morning of the 13th of September, 1869, Sengstacke and I,
accompanied by the stoker, started to follow the track of a reindeer
which had been wounded the evening before. The weather was clear
and fine; and as we had the whole day before us, we hoped certainly
to find the object of our search,--provided, of course, that it had
not left the island. After half an hour’s walking, we came to the
plateau between Hasenberg and Germaniaberg, and soon found traces of
the wounded creature. We followed them for some time when we became
suddenly aware of the very desirable presence of three musk-oxen--two
bulls and a cow--which were quietly grazing at a little distance. Until
now we had not met with any of these animals on Pendulum Island; and
our delight at the sight of these wild, interesting creatures may be
imagined. Sengstacke and Wagner made a circuit towards the interior, to
prevent them from flying to the hills in the interior of the island,
whilst I remained on the coast, protected from their sight by a small
hilly ridge running parallel with the shore, Sengstacke was the first
to get within shooting distance, when, all at once, the oxen began
to snort, which with them is a sign either of fear or of anger; and
all three started at full speed straight to the Hasenberg, when they
rapidly disappeared in the ravine at its foot. We now separated further
still from one another, as we hoped to find them again in one of the
deep ravines, when we suddenly saw them once more, hurrying up a steep
declivity of loose stones. It was really a fine sight to see them
leaping with such astonishing agility, where man would have had great
trouble in even setting his foot. They kept close to each other, as
all animals do that go in herds. Had they done otherwise, those far
behind would have been under a perfect hail of stones from those which,
in their eagerness, had hurried forward. This was the last we saw of
them that day; for, although we scoured the whole of the southern slope
of the Hasenberg, making a circuit into the interior, the creatures
remained invisible. Chiefly from the wish to bag something, we shot
some hares; but our whole thoughts were on the musk-oxen. As we
returned I saw, as I had done in the morning, some eider-drakes. I
mention this fact because we had seen a great number of ducks since we
had landed, but only _mothers_ with their little ones, tending
them until they were able to undertake the long journey to the south.
“The next day Mr. Sengstacke, as acting officer of the ship, could
not, unfortunately, accompany us. Wagner and I, therefore, started
alone in quest of the oxen. As we neared the Hasenberg, we saw our
friends, by the help of a pocket telescope, peacefully resting on the
snow, at a height of from 1050 to 1200 feet above us, on the side of
the mountain looking landwards. We climbed as quickly as possible, and
after about an hour’s time found ourselves near them. But although we
tried on every side to get close to them, we could not succeed without
their seeing us. At last we were obliged to agree to try with less
circumspection. At first they seemed quite contented with their work
of chewing, not dreaming of any threatened danger, but suddenly, with
a bound, they were off. I was so beyond myself at this mishap, that,
from sheer desperation, I sent some shots after them, of course without
any result. If their great speed and agility had astonished us the day
before, our wonder was greater to-day, as we saw them bound up the
acclivity, which was as steep as basalt fragments could possibly be. At
the utmost, they were not more than three or four minutes reaching the
height of 450 feet, which the top of the mountain appeared to reach.
We followed slowly after them, and really the ascent was so difficult
that it took us quite half an hour to do what the oxen had done in a
few minutes. We found a slight trace of blood, thereby concluding that
the chance shot had not been without its effect. Upon reaching the
summit, we saw that they had climbed to a steep snow furrow on the
outer slope of the roof-shaped mountain. As we knew that by following
them we should only hasten their flight, we sat down and took some
refreshment. It did not escape us, however, that the oxen had ceased
to mount, and had withdrawn to the north-west side of the mountain.
Here the ground was very uneven; deep rifts, alternating with stony
hills. We now distinctly saw that one of the bulls was less active than
the other, and as the unharmed one seemed resolved not to leave his
comrade, they went but slowly forward. We waited until they were out of
our sight behind the hills, and then followed as quickly as the stony
nature of the ground permitted. We now passed quickly, but cautiously,
one hilly range after another, and, at every open spot where the oxen
might perceive us, we looked carefully to see if they were not in the
next hollow. Thus we had passed several hills, and had begun to fear
that our prey had escaped us again, when at that moment we espied the
back of one. It was grazing, and coming straight towards us. I fell
back at once, and, after drawing Wagner’s attention, dropped upon hands
and knees, and thus approached the unsuspecting beast. Before they
suspected anything, we were alongside of all three. Wagner’s Austrian
breech-loader and my double-barrelled gun made it possible to give them
the three shots in as many seconds; one of the oxen was quite incapable
of combat. Wagner looked after the other, with which it seemed that he
would have enough to do. The poor terror-stricken cow tried to blunder
down the slope, and I ran after her. In two or three minutes I stood
but a few steps from her and fired, aiming at the head. It was the
first and last time that I tried this shot upon a musk ox. I struck
the cow exactly in the middle of the forehead, about an inch above the
eyes; she scarcely seemed to shrink, and I was glad to be able to give
her another in the shoulder immediately, as she seemed inclined to try
what she could do with her short, crooked horns in self-defence. Wagner
in the meantime had finished his part of the work, so that, after
cutting their throats, we rolled them some hundred feet down the deep,
steep slope, where they rested upon a comparatively smooth snow-heap.
Then followed the less agreeable but necessary work of skinning them.
Wagner was willing enough and strong enough; but as this sort of work
was new to him, the greater part of course fell to my share. As the
animals were so near the ship, I much wished to so skin them as to put
them in our collection; and at last, after the lapse of two hours,
we had the pleasure of taking off the skin of the third ox, with its
head and feet attached. Whilst thus busied, we kept a sharp look-out
for less agreeable guests; for a bear, attracted by the smell of the
dead animals, might visit us; but at first nothing happened. Excited
by the happy results of our hunt, we were about returning, when Wagner
suddenly saw a huge bear very near to us. He was a magnificent fellow.
Standing on the back of the neighbouring height, he twisted his long
neck from right to left, sniffing the air with every sign of caution
and mistrust; he showed to advantage as he stood with his powerful
broad breast presented to us; his huge paws firm upon the ground, or
sometimes raised when he stood on his hind feet to sniff the air more
effectually. As soon as we saw him, we ducked between the stones, and
examined whether we had cartridges enough. I being more practised in
shooting than Wagner, took his breech-loader, which for this case was
the best weapon. Carefully did I pick the spot in the silvery shining
fur of Bruin where the heart ought to be, and fired. With a fearful
howl he disappeared behind the hill. We followed him as fast as our
legs could carry us, and found the huge beast about twenty paces from
the spot where he had been standing mortally wounded. We gave him an
extra shot to make sure, and then opened the jugular vein. I think
this was the largest specimen of _Ursus maritimus_ that we saw
during our stay in the Arctic regions. He was very fat, proving that
though his teeth were gone, the experience of age had taught him how to
supply all necessaries. Our united exertions could not turn him round,
so, for the present, we had to leave him. Our comrades on board were
delighted at the prospect of being so richly provided with fresh meat;
and on the following morning, at half-past two, we started with seven
men, two boats, and a light sledge. At two p.m. we returned laden with
the carcases, heads, and skins of our three oxen, and the head and
skin of the great bear, besides some foxes which we surprised at our
meat store. One of them seemed fond of liver, and was making off with
a large piece when a shot brought him down. At dinner, when the liver
came on the table, some shot in the piece which had fallen to my lot,
showed that I had shared the unlucky fox’s last morsel. Our careful
sailors were of opinion that no gift of God’s should be lost, so they
had brought it away and found it useful for the cabin table.” So far
Dr. Copeland’s account.
[Illustration:
_Page 331._
THE GERMANIA IN THE ICE.]
Frost had now set in, and we could not tell how soon real winter,
with cold, storm, and snow, would overtake us. Our first duty was the
ship’s safety and preparations for passing the winter.
Orders were then given that all the ship’s crew should once more enjoy
the sweet water from the neighbouring brook, as we wished to avoid as
long as possible the use of melted snow. In spite of the difficulty
of fetching water in the boat, we had just finished in time; as on
the 17th the earth was frozen on the surface, and the streams showed
but little water, and in the course of a day or two ceased running
altogether.
And now ever more menacingly did the harbinger of winter warn us.
Boreas, with his sudden and violent rising, and the heavy squalls
under Pendulum Island, which we soon learnt to know, burst no fewer
than three times over the ship this week. On the 16th the storm was so
strong that we had to drop the second anchor.
The next day was again a fine, still autumn day. On the 18th the almost
inch-thick covering of ice burst into several floes, so that we were
able to tow our ship further into the harbour.
That evening and night we had another storm from the north, which,
however, did no harm to the ship, but broke up all the ice afresh and
drifted it away, so that the Germania was once more free in the water;
but it was for the last time.
The coming Sunday broke still and clear, though the temperature even at
noon was not above 19° Fahr. rising to 46°. A new icy covering formed,
increasing in thickness so quickly that in the night of the 20th and
21st, the rising storm in the creek, with its hurricane gusts, could
not break it. All possibility of going out with the boat was now quite
at an end. It was on this Sunday (19th), the same day on which the
Hansa, on the floe 120 miles further south, found that she was frozen
in; but what a difference in circumstances there and here!
It was interesting for us at this time to observe the life and ways of
some of those birds of passage whose existence depends upon open water.
There were from thirteen to fifteen eider-ducks in the harbour, four
of which were old ones, swimming in two groups. During the following
days we had frequent opportunities, in the open fissures and holes at
the entrance of the creek, particularly near the peninsula, where the
observatory stood, to watch the short flights of these birds. They also
flew round the ship and the bay, and then disappeared. On the 20th
these water-holes had disappeared, and with them the ducks. Only one
young thing was left behind, which timidly waddled by on the slippery
ice, and dead-tired was at last shot out of pity. When later, from the
cutting through of the ship on the 24th, a channel of open water was
formed, ducks again appeared, and several were killed. The attempt to
keep one alive on board did not, however, succeed.
As in the course of the 21st the weather cleared, and our comrades
had been absent seven days, we began to be uneasy about them; we
anticipated all sorts of mishaps, and finally determined to go and meet
them the next day with some provisions.
On the 22nd, therefore, Mr. Sengstacke started early with two men, to
beat the south side of the island. For the first time they succeeded in
getting to land on foot across the ice, it having frozen so sharply the
last few nights. Our uneasiness was fortunately quite unnecessary. The
travellers returned to the island in good spirits, and Mr. Sengstacke
and his companions had the unexpected good fortune to kill two reindeer.
Thus we were all together once more, and were able seriously to set
to work upon our winter preparations. It was indeed high time. The
thermometer at night was already below 14° Fahr., and we could expect
nothing but an increase of cold.
The first requisite was to find a secure position for the ship. It
ought not to come in contact with drifting ice, but remain quietly
on the spot where it was frozen in, until summer should free it from
its icy fetters. The experience of former Arctic explorers had proved
that the most serious dangers and difficulties might arise under
unfavourable circumstances. The eminent Arctic explorer Kane was in
his first voyage blocked in the pack-ice for nearly nine months; and
on the second he was obliged to leave the frozen-in brig in Rensselaer
harbour, and make a most difficult journey with the boats.
For ourselves, according to human calculations, we might look forward
to future events without any misgiving. Our ship had run at the right
time into the finest winter harbour that we could desire. It seemed as
if nature had made it for the Germania.
Almost circular, with a peculiarly narrow entrance, it lay on the
south-east point of the island. To the north, the far-spreading land
and a mountain chain of more than 900 feet high formed a continual
protection against the devastating northern storms, as well as from
the rushing current of the pack-ice; and Walrus Island, lying to the
south-east, protected the harbour from the strong pressing and pushing
of the ice, which, drifting by the sea-breeze or the currents against
the neighbouring open coast, was sometimes followed by frightful
results.
This creek was named “Germania Harbour.” Koldewey would willingly have
wintered farther north, in order to have a more advanced starting-point
for the sledge journeys in the spring, but no safer harbour or
anchorage existed under Shannon Island or Klein-Pendulum; and we had
cause to be thankful that we were not obliged to seek shelter farther
south, somewhere about Gael Hamkes Bay.
On the 24th of September, the ship was brought to the chosen spot, 300
paces from the western point of land. For this purpose we had to cut a
channel in the now three-inch-thick ice. The cutting of the ice, and
the song of the sailors as they towed the ship along, sounded cheerful
on this fine winter morning; and before noon the work was completed.
The Germania now lay for 290 days condemned to inactivity, with her bow
N.N.W., in order, as much as possible, to break the force of the storm.
The next morning the command, “Heave anchor!” sounding so peculiar to
every voyager, was heard for the last time, followed by the regular
rattling of the windlass. The anchor was stowed away on board, as we
had no further use for it; and the ship, until it should freeze in
position, was made fast with ropes to the ice and the neighbouring rock.
She had now to be entirely unfitted, down to the lower masts and the
shrouds, and everything brought on land that would not be required
during the winter. Thus, on one side, the ship was disburdened, and on
the other we gained considerable space both on deck and in the cabin,
which in every respect was, in winter, of the greatest importance.
First, the sails were taken down and rolled together, then the yards
and the maintopmast, and the sails and all the rigging dismantled. The
foretopmast we purposely left standing, that we might have a lofty
point, which, in the course of time, might be useful for observing
the air-currents and electricity. Then the deck was cleared, and the
long-boat hoisted from its place. The spare spars and all utensils
and chests were brought to shore. The same thing was done with all
provisions which the frost could not destroy, except, of course, what
we needed for use during the half-year. The two largest boats we laid
with the yards, &c., on the flat shore at the end of the harbour.
For the provisions, however, we erected a “depôt,” half way to the
observatory on the peninsula. On a layer of planks we closely packed
our chests and vessels, covering them with sails, the edges of which
were kept down by heavy stones. Thus buried, our belongings seemed able
to defy both storms and bears. But other things remained to be done.
One or two men had to help build the stone houses; and the engineer and
the stoker were busy taking the machinery to pieces. One of these stone
houses was intended for an observatory. It was built on the corner of
land lying near to the ship, upon the steep edge of the bank; for the
other, as a magnetical observatory, a more north-west position seemed
preferable.
The glorious evenings on the ice during these last September weeks, the
first of our winter stay, will ever be remembered by all.
Seamen and scientific men worked valiantly in the sweat of their
faces the whole day long; and when the longed-for evening meal was
over, there remained one or two hours of enjoyment in each other’s
society, which we generally passed in skating. If the ice had not that
mirror-face which our own fresh-water lakes present, still it had its
charms. We then settled down to friendly conversation, as we were
accustomed to do in our own country, some adepts, others novices, but
all eager to learn the art.
The fate of the Hansa, too, troubled us, giving us constant room for
conjecture, though having but little real fear for her. For comforting
circumstances greatly preponderated, and it would have been unnatural
with such, if we had not believed in the lucky stars of our comrades
and their tried captain. Added to this, the present had such constant
claims upon us that we had no time for moping. To keep out the snow
and wind, and also to keep in the warmth, a tent of strong sail-cloth
was stretched over the ship; and finally a three-inch-thick layer of
moss was spread over the deck. The tent-roof had been prepared before
our departure, so it had only to be put up. Where it was bolted we
placed upright supports, so that even there we might walk upright,
and from these the roof rose almost obliquely to the top, which was
composed of the mainboom and the mizzenboom placed longitudinally. From
the foremast it descended to the forestays, and with that down to the
bows, ending over the stern with a more perpendicular gable.
[Illustration: THE GERMANIA ON SABINE ISLAND.
_Page 336._]
As has already been said, this was composed of the strongest
sail-cloth; and the different parts were so firmly put together that we
dared to hope it would resist the storm; and the more so as the sharp
front lay towards the north wind. At the back, looking towards the
observatory, was the exit, the only opening in the tent, which could
be closed by a trap-board. Through this small hole we slipped in and
out on to some wooden steps by which we reached the ice. The favourable
weather was also taken advantage of to tar the ship’s sides.
Whilst the outside was thus putting on its winter clothing, many
alterations were made within. The question here was not only the
greatest protection from cold, but the making it really habitable and
home-like. We already found that the warmest half was the fore-cabin,
just abaft the forecastle, and which was built like a cage in the
middle of the hold, which surrounded it on all four sides. Hereupon a
winter cabin for the captain had to be made, as the former, from its
isolated position in the after-part of the ship, required too much coal
to warm it.
As it was further desirable, both for work and amusement during the
long winter, to have more room, the back wall of the cabin was set
back three quarters of a yard; and on a line with this a new room of
forty-three inches in depth was built, connected by an opening, but
with no door. The wooden walls of the cabin were then covered on the
outside with felt, and on the inside with thick woollen stuff, called
“coating.” The floor was partly covered with a carpet, and partly
also with felt and sail-cloth nailed over it. The iron stove had then
to change its place and go into the farthest corner, from whence it
could most effectually warm all parts. The ceiling was likewise set up
inside, and it was intended by-and-by to cover the roof with snow for
protection. The skylight, too, could not be allowed to remain open;
so we covered it, both out and inside, except in the brightest hours
of the day; and in order that we might enjoy the light as long as
possible, the back part of the tent roof on the forepart of the ship
was always rolled back until the 9th of October, when lamps were burnt
all day long. Our stove proved excellent. While outside the temperature
stood at from O° to 4° Fahr., in the cabin we were able to keep up an
agreeable warmth with about ten pounds of coal.
But, besides the cold, the European wintering in the North has another
enemy awaiting him, which often brings on illness; this enemy is
the damp. The wateriness of the atmosphere, rising from all parts,
penetrates into the rooms, settling naturally upon every relatively
cold object. These are particularly the walls and ceiling of the cabin.
And even with continual airing we did not succeed in keeping the damp
really out of the cabin. In order, therefore, to accomplish this, we
bored large holes, after Ross’s example, of two inches diameter through
the deck, turning over it a large hollow iron vessel covered with snow,
on the very cold inner surface of which the watery contents of the
atmosphere soon condensed, forming a crust of ice, which was removed
from time to time. Two of these condensers we placed over the cabin,
two over the forecastle, and one over the captain’s cabin.
In the forecastle, as may be supposed, no further heating was necessary
than that caused by the daily cooking in the caboose. Indeed, at
meal-time the heat was so great that the door had to be opened and the
condensing holes left uncovered for a long time; by these means the
damp was more easily got rid of.
Another contrivance we made for melting the snow. In the chimney of the
caboose we constructed a receiver, from the bottom of which a pipe ran
through the deck into a barrel, and all snow thrown into the receiver,
being melted by the warmth of the chimney, fell into it.
During all these preparations in September and October the days had
become visibly shorter and the air colder. As, however, it had not
snowed yet, we agreed for the time to surround the ship with a wall of
ice-blocks. This we did on the 11th of October. A row of blocks were
brought in a line from the stern of the ship to the small bridge near
the observatory leading to the land. They were soon frozen fast, and
from them a rope was drawn to the land. This erection, already tried
by Parry, was also intended to show us the way to the ship in gloomy
and snowy weather. We did not then dream of what great service this
improvised fence would be to us. Our jolly-boat, too, would more than
once have been carried away by the storm had it not found a check to
its wild course.
On the 2nd of November so great a quantity of snow fell that the ship
was completely enveloped, and also a thick layer over the moss on deck.
And now, when the winter night should come, we were prepared to receive
it; but we had to wait some time longer.
The whole of October and some part of November we enjoyed the finest
autumn weather. We called this, with good reason, _late autumn_:
real _winter_ it was not yet to us. “Fine clear weather with
calm,”--such was the ever-repeated entry in the ship’s log, and we
had, indeed, “over East Greenland an ever-smiling heaven.” Besides
the storms of the 19th and 20th, until the 21st of September, we had
three more. On the 7th they blew the fiercest, lasting seventeen hours,
and bringing much snow with them. These were followed by the others
on the 13th and 30th. During these storms the roof of the observatory
was completely torn off, and scattered in portions wide over the ice,
so that we had to construct a new and stronger one. Fortunately we
had delayed putting in the instruments, or they would have suffered
terribly.
On the 12th of October we began hourly meteorological readings. Besides
the thermometers hanging in their cases in the observatory, some were
posted up between the ship and the land, and by them was hoisted a
black white and red flag, partly for ornament and partly to show the
direction of the wind. At the stern of the ship an ingenious apparatus
was erected, by which the rising and falling of the tide could be
observed. The hole in the ice, through which the pole protruded for
some distance (“Flutloch”[52] we named it), served the cook for getting
out the water wanted, and in case of fire was our only means of
preservation. To keep this free from ice and of uniform dimensions was
our daily care.
In the course of October the cold increased sensibly, though not so
much as we expected. Whilst at the end of September the mean daily
temperature was still 14° Fahr., it fell by the 19th of October, with
few exceptions, to 12°, which was its minimum, whilst its maximum was
25°. The temperature of the water under the ice was 34°, and remained
at that point during the whole winter.
For a long time we noticed a peculiar appearance, which, at the first
glance, seemed to contradict all known facts. At first the surface of
the young ice in the harbour was smooth and firm, but soon we found it
damp and slippery, even at 13° to 18° of cold. We now found that this
damp coating was strongly saline, and that in places, as, for example,
quite in the inside of the creek, where an overflow of water from the
shore, or from cracks or holes, was not to be thought of. Later on,
after a storm, we found on the surface of the newly-formed ice in front
of the creek, a white covering of salt; more than this, we all found
from experience that the snow lying on the ice, even at a great depth,
was more or less brackish, so that what was wanted for melting had to
be brought from land. As it is now a known fact that in the freezing
of sea-water the salt is expelled, and nothing but pure water is found
in the ice when formed, the appearance of salt on the surface puzzled
us. The same appearance has already been noticed by Wrangell. It is
difficult to account for this in any way but the following, viz.,
that part of the salt water concentrated under the ice being hard to
freeze, it is by some power or other forced through the pores of the
ice to the surface. The ice in the harbour itself retained its smooth
surface and its first appearance, though in front of it the young ice,
soon after its formation, was repeatedly, and often to a large extent,
thrown one piece upon another, and that frequently in sharp detached
corner fragments. To the south of the harbour, and the east of Walrus
Island, this appearance was most perceptible. The cause of this, as
well as of the fractures in the ice, is to be found in the crowding
together of heavy masses, which are set in motion either by the current
or the wind. In the same way the young crowded ice, when the coast lies
before it, is pushed on to it; or, if the bank is steep, is crushed
against it and heaped up in wild confusion. This heaping up the bank
is considerably increased by the ebb-tide, and if the difference only
amounts to about three feet, still at each sinking of the water the
ice will break away from the bank, and during the flow press slowly
but steadily again towards it. In this way, in contrast to the real
icy covering of the sea, is formed a more or less seamless wall on the
bank, which is called “ice-foot.” This pushing up of the ice was but
slight in the harbour, but on the south end of Walrus Island we noticed
that it rose to the height of 30 feet. Another phenomenon of the moving
ice was the formation of “hummocks,” which we could not properly
observe in our neighbourhood, as the ice either lay harmless or was
torn away by the storm.
All these movements of the ice--the gradual crowding and pressing,
bending and pushing, the breaking of the masses of snow lying at the
“ice-foot”--do not go on noiselessly, but are generally accompanied by
certain sounds, which are called the “voices” of the ice. Now we hear
a low singing, splashing, or grumbling, alternating with various other
noises, cracking and snapping; now it sounds irregularly from a great
distance, like a confusion of human voices, like the changing din of a
train or a sledging party; or you fancy you hear the steps and voices
of all sorts of animals. There is a peculiar charm in listening to
these sounds on a still moonlight night, and often at first we were
greatly deceived.
All belonging to the real heavy ice masses we watched the whole autumn
through, at ever-varying distances from the coast. Like a boundless,
continuous, uneven white mass lay the pack-ice to the north, joining
the land-ice at Shannon Island, reaching in the south past Gael Hamkes
Bay to the coast. Seldom did we see even the smallest streak of water;
and if this did happen, it was soon again covered with ice and snow.
Moreover, that this pack-ice was no firm connected mass we convinced
ourselves; and, more than that, we saw distinctly that it slowly but
steadily drifted southward. In stormy weather (from the north) this
drift was greatly increased, and the few fields and flakes were more
separated from one another.
As the winter drew on, and the sun described a smaller and smaller
circle each day as the cold increased, and snow as well as ice covered
everything, we were beginning our really winter life, the commencement
of which we set at the 6th of November, the day the sun disappeared. On
some excursions in the neighbourhood of Germaniaberg, Hasenberg, Hansa
Bay, and Walrus Island, the ground being free from snow afforded us
continual opportunities for botanical research, which were not without
result.
On a clear sunny day, for instance, the surface of the earth got warm,
so that by noon, at two inches deep, it was 37° to 39° Fahr.; but the
night frosts were so sharp, and the temperature of the air so low, that
by the middle of September the plants had already run their yearly
course, and were prepared for a nine months’ winter rest. Only two
there were that differed from the rest by retaining their green leaves
to deck the earth, boldly facing the cold winter day, and even bearing
well-preserved blossom; these were the mouse-ear chickweed (_Cerastum
alpinum_, L.) and the spoon-wort (_Cochlearia fenestrata_, R.
Br.). The first-mentioned resembles our well-known pimpernel, which
in the autumn distributes amongst the dead plants the green-white
soft leaves of the young shoots, sometimes retaining its blossoms or
buds quite fresh in spite of the frost, and, later on, when covered
with snow, still remaining unchanged, and with the beginning of the
new year, as soon as the warmth has penetrated to its roots, the nine
months’ interrupted growth continues without any perceptible change in
the plant. These interesting circumstances, which one would scarcely
expect to meet in the far North, only happens with the mouse-ear
chickweed upon favourable spots, as, for instance, on the heights of
Walrus Island. Much more distinctly and constantly does it appear with
the spoon-wort. This plant, many species of which grow on our German
coasts, is pretty general in the far North; and by old seafarers its
green succulent leaves are eaten as a specific against scurvy. If at
the present day they have no longer this virtue, as a salad it is both
a wholesome and agreeable dish. We scarcely made use of it, partly
because it was scarce and partly because we had an abundant supply of
preserved vegetables. The spoon-wort we really only found in great
quantities during the whole of our journeys, in two places at the end
of the peninsula, where the observatory stood, and on the cliffs of
Walrus Island. But here it does not seek the damp salt earth as in
our country, but the highest parts of these places; the thick rosette
of leaves, either large or small, lying between the stones, often
inclosing in its centre the differently-developed, thickly-knotted
buds. Thus, whilst the long outer leaves fall a quick sacrifice to the
frost, this stout juicy heart braves it valiantly. At a cold of 4° to
9° Fahr. we saw no effect produced upon it; and, perhaps, this hardy
growth could stand still more.
Of annuals which flourish in more temperate climates, the Arctic Flora
possesses few. We found in reality none, though one might consider
a sort of saxifrage (_Saxifraga flagellaris_, Willd.) amongst
them which propagates itself by layers, and is called by the English
most appropriately “spider-wort.” This plant, with its strong rosette
of leaves and coarse, handsome, yellow flowers, we had seen blooming
in numbers on the low grounds in August. On the reddish stalks, from
one to three inches long, we saw buds about the size of a small pea,
generally from three to eight in a circle. These buds form roots at
their bases, which were even then beginning to sink into the ground.
Now, at the end of September, we found the parent plant dead. It was
easily pulled from the earth, and even the tendrils broke short off,
so that the young plant stood alone ready to unfold its blossoms next
year. In spite of all our searches we found no fruit, not even any
partly developed. Thus we have an example of a plant being only able to
propagate itself by its seed in favourable years. The preservation of
this sort of plant is quite independent of climate. All other plants
are evergreen shrubs, each individual having the power of ripening seed
unnecessarily every year. Upon this also we made some observations.
The bilberry (_Vaccinium uliginosum_, L.), which we found growing
in low, weak bushes on the eastern declivity of the Hasenberg, and
lower down near the shore, showed no sign whatever of having bloomed
the year before. The same was the case with the Andromeda on the
southern declivity of Germaniaberg; whilst this plant, on the warm
southern slope of the Hasenberg, not only grew strong, but still bore
the withered blossoms of this and the former year. But we found no
formation of fruit.
Overtaken by the autumnal frost while in its bloom was another
species of saxifrage, the _Saxifraga hirculus_ (L.), and often some
specimens of the yellow-blooming poppy (_Papaver nudicaule_); whilst
other plants, as the _Silene acaulis_ (L.), _Lychnis apetala_, mostly
_Cruciferæ_, the _Ranunculus_, _Cinquefoil_, and the beautiful
_Polemonium humile_, the seed of which had long since ripened, and was
partly scattered. The _Polemonium_ I saw for the first time on the
southern declivity of the Hasenberg--a strong, large-leaved plant in
the otherwise so sterile, stony ground. The Cinquefoil grew here to
half a foot high. Moreover, we found nearly everywhere and on every
plant this year’s _leaves_, and very often those of the former year. In
September this was seen mostly in the willow-leaves (and the catkins),
though many had been torn away by the storm, and heaped up in the
hollows and on the slopes. Thus in the snow furrows between the low
land and the great valley had formed, as far as one could see, a dark
horizontal line, which we afterwards proved consisted of nothing but
dry willow-leaves.
We were also able to study the important influence which storms exert
over the different kinds of vegetation. The storm of the 9th and 10th
of October afforded us a good opportunity for our observations, which
were confirmed the following year.
To a much less extent, unfortunately, were we able to learn the flora
of the sea. We succeeded in pulling up some florideæ at a depth of from
twenty-six fathoms and five fathoms. It was also striking how, nearly
everywhere in the neighbourhood of the coast, either under or amongst
the ice, where pieces of algæ were torn up, they proved to be the
large yellow-green _Laminaria phyllitis_ and the many-branching,
greyish-green _Desmarestia aculeata_, mostly uprooted by the
walrus, and, when rising to the surface, eventually frozen in.
If the land presented all that was interesting to a botanist, the
zoologists found it quite the reverse. The lower grade of animal life
had, since the first regular night-frosts (that is on land, for on
the banks it froze much sooner), run its course; and of birds, most
had taken their departure; still, on the 5th of October, we saw two
snow-buntings. The day after the great storm (October 10th) we killed a
ptarmigan at the foot of the Hasenberg in full winter feather. Besides
the ravens, which we saw frequently, we were visited at the end of
September by some grey-backed sea-mews; three hawks circled one day
round our ship, and once we saw a white eagle.
The capture of a lemming[53] was interesting to us, one of those
insignificant rodentia, different species of which are to be found
in all Arctic countries. On the west coast they are not yet known to
any extent; from the east coast one of these animals was brought by
Scoresby. They were lemmings which we saw on the 5th of August while
digging among the Esquimaux huts, though we did not succeed in killing
one. This specimen, the first and the last we ever captured, was killed
on the open field running among the stones. A peculiar creature, in
its thick, unshaped head and body, without ears or tail, it somewhat
resembles the mole; the short, long-haired feet were armed with strong
claws, and the thick fur was of a greyish-brown colour.
Lemmings do not seem rare here. Independently of the masses of filth in
the entrance of those huts, we had seen earth-holes in several places,
which must have belonged to them, and particularly in the neighbourhood
of the harbour and Walrus Island. On the latter, on the freshly-fallen
snow, in the middle of October were unmistakable tracks of them; and
that they are often welcome food to the fox we concluded from finding
the dung of these beasts of prey, consisting of nothing but the hair
and bones of lemmings. Some tracks, as we have already said, we
followed from the south corner of the island over to Walrus Island,
which shows that they move late in the year, and also to some distance.
Besides these, we saw foxes and reindeer; hunting the latter was all
the more our particular pleasure, that it promised a further supply of
fresh meat to our larder. The reindeer, moreover, never appeared in our
neighbourhood except by ones or twos, were very shy, and were easily
driven away by nearing them incautiously. We saw no more of musk-oxen;
on the other hand, on the 20th of October the Germania received the
first visit from a polar bear.
As Dr. Börgen in the twilight was about reading off the depth by the
sounding-pole at seven p.m. he suddenly saw a bear about thirty paces
from him coming slowly along, most likely attracted by the smell of
a dead reindeer which lay by the ship. Unarmed as he was, he hastily
returned to the ship, and now, of course, all were on deck with guns
ready. But the bear, either from the disturbance or the unusual sight
of the ship, hesitated somewhat, making a large circle round it,
often standing still, and tossing its snout in the air. As he seemed
inclined to go to land, and take no further notice of us, we tried to
entice him by a savoury-smelling fire of bacon, but in vain. At last,
after some time, we discovered him again by the observatory, fumbling
over all sorts of offal placed there as a bait for foxes, ravens, &c.
Armed with guns and ammunition, we approached him cautiously from two
sides. The combat began, and, hit in the leg, the bleeding animal
turned to bolt with mighty strides sheer across the land, but was soon
forced to rest; our hunters rushed across the stones towards him, and
once more shots rattled round him. The bear gathered himself up and
made for the ice, and was given up for lost by his pursuers, when he
suddenly fell. Hurrah! But it was nine o’clock, and we had no time to
lose, for at a temperature of 0° Fahr. he must be quickly skinned.
This not very agreeable work in the cold and twilight was undertaken
by Messrs. Copeland, Pansch, and Iversen, whilst others went on board
for a sledge. On this the carcase and the skin were laid. Dr. Pansch,
however, would not leave the preparation of the bones, which he already
mentally saw gracing some German museum. His gun lay ready beside him,
for it was very likely that a second bear, drawn by the smell of flesh,
might come to help at the work. But nothing happened, and about two
o’clock the skeleton lay upon the ice.
The beginning of November the first black fox was brought in; it was
caught in a trap, and was a fine creature. Thus for the zoologists
there was instructive work enough on land. But the question always
rose over and over again, Could there be no investigation of the fauna
of the seas, which, unfortunately, during the voyage had to remain in
abeyance? Could not something be done now?
On the 11th of October, from the cutting of the ice-blocks, there was
left a channel, and from it, with the help of the dredging-net, we
brought up different crustacea, particularly amphipoda, and several
species of worms. But it was difficult to classify them, as the cold in
the evening was over 2.5° Fahr., so that the contents of the net froze
rapidly.
As, on the 25th of October, Captain Koldewey went far to the east
across the ice to take soundings, he saw that several small, fresh
cracks had taken place. This seemed a favourable opportunity for
dredging, promising the greater success, as the depth of the water
was here twenty-five to twenty-eight fathoms. On two of the following
days this was carried out; a sledge was laden with the necessary
articles, and about ten o’clock Dr. Pansch and two men set to work;
as soon as the thin ice was removed, forming a fresh gap, two holes,
at appropriate distances from it, were made large enough to let down
the net and pull it up again. When it reached the ground, the strong
rope was drawn in the whole length of the gap to the other hole,
then, running over a smooth stick, was held at the end by four strong
hands, and slowly in the direction of the gap drawn further on until
the net appeared at the hole, when it was taken out and emptied on to
the sledge. Besides different kinds of cockles and shell-fish, crabs
and worms, there were a great number of sea-urchins (_Toxopneuster
neglectus_), and several long-armed ophiuri.
On the 1st of November we succeeded in dredging once more from the edge
of the old ice. With that this geological work was also brought to
an end, as the days were growing darker and shorter, and storms were
breaking out again. The scrupulous, minute record of meteorological
calculations from hour to hour (so sneered at by the uninitiated) had
begun, and was now part of our daily work, and was carried on through
the whole of the winter without intermission.
Besides this it was desirable (and was also mentioned in the
instructions) that longer journeys should be taken into the interior.
These were to have chiefly a geographical aim, and, as far as the
necessary care for our safety allowed, Koldewey endeavoured to carry
these out.
In the beginning of October, therefore, a sledge journey was planned,
first in a westerly direction, in order to ascertain if in the
interior of Flache Bay there might be a stratum of coal; and then
southwards towards Cape Wynn to Clavering Island, to find whether the
Esquimaux settlement seen by Clavering in the year 1823 still existed.
Preparations were made for this excursion, and on the evening of the
7th of October the party started (Captain Koldewey, First Lieutenant
Payer, Dr. Copeland, Peter Ellinger, Peter Iversen, and George
Herzberg). The air was heavy, but otherwise fine weather, and the
travellers reached Flache Bay the same day, raising their tent under a
mountain to the north.
The next morning the weather was gloomy and foggy, with some snow
falling. We could, therefore, only make a hasty geological excursion to
the mountain which lay near. We found coal-formation and petrifactions,
without coming upon real coal. Fog and snow prevented further
investigation, so that, in a geographical point of view, nothing could
be done. As the weather was so unfavourable, we thought it better to
return and husband our strength for another enterprise to the south.
On the 12th and 13th violent snow-storms raged, which broke all the
ice around Cape Wynn. First Lieutenant Payer, however, wished much to
close the year, if possible, with one good discovery. Thus, on the 27th
of October, a sledge expedition started under his superintendence with
the intention of exploring the land to the south of Flache Bay. He
was accompanied by Dr. Copeland and the sailors Iversen, Wagner, and
Herzberg. They returned on the 4th of November at half-past nine p.m.
The account of this journey will be given in the next chapter.
[Illustration: ARCTIC FOX AT A TRAP.]