LONG SLEDGE JOURNEY ALONG THE COAST NORTHWARDS--DISCOVERY
OF KING WILLIAM’S ISLAND--MARCH 8TH TO APRIL
27TH, 1870.[64]
Object and result of these sledge journeys.--Equipment and
clothing.--Tent.--Departure.--Provisions.--Discipline on the
march.--Hardships.--Refraction.--Parhelia.--Difficulties of
sledge-dragging.--Tent-pitching.--Snow-blindness.--Return
to the ship.--Second start.--Return of the companion
sledge.--Hochstetter’s Foreland.--Geological excursion.--Cape
Oswald Heer.--Ascent of the Haystack.--Bear-hunting.--Reaching
of 76° N. Lat--Cape Carl Ritter.--Remains of Esquimaux
summer-huts.--Cape Peschel.--Roon Bay.--Icebergs.--The Devil’s
Cape.--Parhelia in Roon Bay.--Desert of snow.--Eastern
Island.--Dove Bay.--Mountain-chain and glaciers on the
west of it.--Erratic blocks on Eastern Island.--Cape
Heligoland.--Storm Bay.--Passion-week.--Violent storm.--77°
N. Lat. passed.--Virgin soil.--Erection of a cairn on
the northernmost point reached.--Depositing a document
therein.--Want of necessaries.--Want remedied by killing two
musk-oxen.--Snow-storm.--The midnight sun.--Difficulties of
Arctic sledge journeys.--Geological formation of the Island at
Cape Peschel.--Peter Ellinger taken ill.--Payer and Ellinger
on forwards.--First salutation of spring.--Return to the
ship.--Results of the journey.
Sledge journeys, particularly in spring-time, are attended by great
expenditure of strength and troubles of all kinds. A day’s progress
by ship would take a week in a sledge; indeed, sometimes with almost
superhuman strength, not more than a few hundred paces can be made in
a day.
Such journeys must also always be made on the frozen sea or on the
Fjords. Overland sledge journeys are impossible in East Greenland, on
account of the unevenness of the ground and the insufficiency of snow.
The most favourable time is the autumn. In winter, the long Arctic
night effectually frustrates every excursion. In spring they are made
more difficult by the intensity of the cold, and for at least three
parts of the time by terrific snow-storms, and in the beginning of
summer the changing of the snow into water, or snow-bog.
For nine months and a half our ship, surrounded and fast bound by the
ice, was the only place of refuge for such expeditions, during which
we could not rely upon any means of subsistence from land, but only
on the chance good fortune of the hunt. Everything had therefore to
be taken with us; and the heavily-laden sledge was indeed the ship of
the desert, the loss of which would carry all with it. The quantity of
provisions to be taken also set a limit upon our excursions, as well as
the knowledge that each man, even under favourable circumstances, could
only carry two hundred weight.
The north-east coast of Greenland is so completely uninhabited, that it
was impossible to obtain dog-sledges; so we had to drag them ourselves,
which we did on five journeys which occupied three months, and in which
we traversed nearly a thousand nautical miles. Clothing and outfit also
requires great care, as on these expeditions the explorer has for weeks
together to brave a temperature sometimes below -24° Fahr. Snow-hoods,
masks, coats of sealskin, boots of sail-cloth (leathern boots are not
pliable, and crack in the frost) lined with flannel, stockings soled
with flannel, were prepared, and every precaution taken.
Each man had two woollen shirts (the under one having a piece of skin
with the hair inside sewn to it), trousers lined with fur, a thick
vest with sleeves, two pairs of woollen drawers, three pairs of warm
stockings, a water-tight sealskin coat--the hair outside, and by many
drawn over the head, with only the hole at the throat, to keep out the
wind and cold. Besides this, each wore a knitted hood, fitting close,
to which was fastened the flannel mask, with small openings for the
eyes and mouth, and the nose protected; over this a large fur hood,
only showing a small portion of the face; a pair of knitted woollen
gloves, inside of which were fur gloves; and, lastly, a shawl--all this
as protection against the cold.
The clothing is provided with large sail-cloth pockets, the one in the
coat being always filled with cartridges. Snow spectacles were worn on
the march, those of a smoky grey colour being the best.[65] Our tent
was of light sail-cloth, the weight of which we had brought down to
forty pounds, and was quite filled with the general sleeping-sack of
sheepskin. For preparing our meals we had a cooking apparatus and a
saucepan, with sixty bottles of spirit as fuel,--wood or coal being too
heavy.
The necessary quantity of provisions for each week was divided into
sacks, each containing coffee, chocolate, boiled beef, ham, butter,
suet, salt, dry black bread, pemmican extract of meat, beans, lentils,
peas, barley, flour mixed with melted butter, and twenty bottles of
brandy. The pulse was cooked on board, left on deck to freeze, then
chopped in pieces, and thrown into the sack. Our medicine-chest only
provided for three diseases, frost-bite, dysentery, and bad eyes; five
pounds of private luggage were allowed for each man, and the three
guns, with 200 cartridges, formed what may be termed the dead weight.
Well, it is the 8th of March. Some days before we had made a trial
trip, and it had proved most satisfactory; there seemed no prospect of
change in the temperature, which was the lowest we ever observed in
East Greenland, being 24° to 35.50° Fahr. below zero, and, still less
hope of the cessation of those time-thieving, indescribably dreadful
snow-storms. But time is too precious; we have already ten hours’
daylight; the sledge is packed, and we begin the journey.
The weather is lovely. A moderate wind blows from the north over the
hard snowy covering, along which the sledge glides, now with hoarse
and now with ringing tones. At the next rocky projection, beyond which
the ship can no longer be seen, our companions, who have given us the
customary escort, return; and we continue our journey alone.
The eye soon gets weary of the brightness of the white surface and the
uniformity of the landscape. Chains of mountains, stretching along the
coast from ten to fifteen nautical miles off, are seen day after day.
From insignificant elevations there rise, in the course of a few hours,
over the endless snowy surface, stately icebergs, behind which huge
snow-drifts have accumulated. A short stay in the dry cold air causes
a painful dryness in the larynx and mouth, whilst the very cold but
slightly damp air is exhaled with perfect comfort.
It is very difficult to keep a straight course when the snowy surface
is covered with a peculiar layer of low fog, which, however, seldom
happens in the spring, as in a violent fall of snow nothing can be done
but by the compass, and this tiring way of proceeding can often only be
employed when an iceberg is for a moment visible, as offering a direct
object of sight.
The great inequality in the warmth of the atmosphere, or unequal
thickness of the atmospheric layers above the ice, produces the
strangest distortions of the land, by means of refraction, causing
objects still below the horizon to be distinctly seen.
During our voyage in the pack-ice in 1869, we saw some most astonishing
phenomena--column-shaped groups of ice towering aloft, often resembling
the ruins of a town; basins of water shut in by the ice, all of which
were below the edge of the horizon; and once a vessel, which seemed to
stand as four, one above another.
Still more interesting is the effect upon a land picture. Now appears
a high, remote island, without any disfiguration of its contour,
apparently set up on a plinth at least 900 feet high; or a completely
dome-shaped mountain is turned into a square, the outlines of the ridge
assuming a dreadfully wild character, every top threatening to fall
over; or the distorted picture acquires a rapid motion, growing as
high again; or creating the delusive picture of a land which certainly
existed, but not where we expected to find it (_Fata Morgana_).
Thus, in Lat. 77° we for a whole day were advancing to a land, the
individual features of which--such as snow-furrows and rocks--were
incontestably seen by all; but upon leaving our tents in the evening it
had all disappeared.
Nearly resembling this, in a physical point of view, we frequently
observed, during our spring sledge-journey, parhelia, or mock suns,
caused by the refraction of the sun’s light by the ice-crystals
floating in the upper strata of air. These mock suns sometimes form a
double circle round the sun, with a coloured bow beyond, and horizontal
stripes of light emanating from the sun itself. The inner part of this
bow is always red, the outer shading off into pale green and a very
light sky-blue. The first circle is bright yellow within; the second
of a yellowish grey. This phenomenon only takes place in a yellow,
vapourish atmosphere, with horizontal strata, and a somewhat cloudy sky.
It was, however, too dangerous to give our undivided attention to
this wonderful phenomenon of nature to the neglect of all surrounding
objects; for, though these appearances are frequent, bears are more
frequent still. Indeed, bear-hunting took its turn in our hunting-roll,
and some of us more than once narrowly escaped being torn to pieces.
Amongst other disagreeables of an Arctic sledge-journey is its
monotony. The ideas and wishes contained within the limited horizon of
life in the Arctic-world pass as quickly away as the eye is wearied by
the monotony of the landscape.
Conversation carried on by men straining at the traces can certainly
not be very animated. The frost prevents smoking, for the pipes freeze.
There is a continued conflict against the loss of warmth; and the cold
penetrates in a hundred different ways. Now the chin is numbed, a
painful straining of the forehead sets in, or a violent pricking of
the nostrils, which are exposed to the wind. Sometimes one stands in
danger of the heels, the toes, or the hands being frost-bitten. The
hair of the face, and even the eyelashes, get hoar with frost--indeed,
the eyes are often completely closed--and every frozen spot on the body
must at once be rubbed with lumps of snow resembling pumice-stone,
until a warm, pricking glow succeeds. When, as in the case of many of
our party, the frozen hands or feet were not rubbed with snow until
too late, it led to numerous blisters. The fingers swelled up into
lumps, and became quite numbed; but the noses (the whole eight of
which were frozen) were more fortunate; they emerged from a white into
a red stage of enlarged dimensions, were eventually covered with a
parchment-like skin, remaining for some time most sensitive, and by
slow degrees regained their normal condition, so that by the time we
landed in Europe they were all right again. The heat of our bodies,
which we did our best to retain by warm woollen clothes, was carried
away in a moment by the slightest wind; and if it increased, the cold
crept between every button of our sealskin clothing; the penetrating
icy wind was felt at every stitch, the arms hung down like lead, deadly
cold, and no one dared to walk without a mask. If the wind rose still
more, curtains of penetrating snow-crystals rose with it from the
ground; then a snow-storm, which always comes from the north, might be
expected, announcing itself by a lofty white appearance in the south,
the violet colour and close proximity of the mountains, and low-hanging
clouds. But still we risk the march forward against the thickening
snow, until painful breathing and stiffening limbs warn us to pitch
our tent.
Under ordinary circumstances this was done about six or seven p.m.,
on a smooth surface. A hole was quickly dug with shovels, on which
the tent was erected, and the dugout blocks of snow laid round it for
safety against the storm, and the sledge placed as a shield to the
north. The tent was kept upright by means of four long poles, each
crossed at the top, stretched by ropes fastened to axes or piles driven
into the ground. When the sleeping-sack had been laid down in the tent,
our personal baggage settled, the kettle filled with blocks of snow by
the cook, the lamp lit, and the rations given out, our comrades, who,
owing to the increased cold since the setting of the sun, had meanwhile
been running and jumping to keep themselves warm, were allowed to enter.
During our last half-hour’s march, each man had been busy thawing his
beard with his hands, for it had been changed into a lump of ice, so
that it might not melt whilst the cooking was going on, and so wet
their clothes and coverings. As soon as all were in their places in the
tent the aperture was closed, and preparations made for passing the
night.
The stiff sail-cloth boots, fast frozen to the stockings which were to
form our pillows, were thawed between the hands, and with difficulty
taken off; the stockings, thick with rimy snow, were scraped, then
wrung and laid upon the breast, to dry by our only available means--our
bodily heat--so as to prepare them for the following day’s work.
At last all have wriggled themselves into the sleeping-sack, each one
lying partly on his neighbour, and in this modest space waiting for the
evening meal.
The first hour is spent in melting the snow, the second in preparing
the meal, which is devoured eagerly, and as cool as possible. The
development of steam during the cooking (which in the very cold weather
consumed one bottle of spirit, or 1 lb.) put us into such a vapour-bath
that we could not even see our next neighbour; the tent walls were
completely wet through, and the temperature, which had been 35° Fahr.,
rose to 36°. The dampness of the coverings and clothes, from the
condensation of the steam on the rime, of course increased, and the
opening of the tent-door occasioned a fall of snow within, so that by
the time the cooking was over, all was covered with a thick coating of
ice or crust of snow.
It is about eight or nine o’clock; the small rations of boiled
beef, soup, and vegetables, are no longer enough to allay the daily
increasing hunger; but sleep buries that, as well as our burning
thirst, in oblivion. Only occasionally did our sparing supply of
spirits allow us to prepare an extra quantity of water.
During the march each one carried an india-rubber or tin bottle, full
of snow, on his bare body, turned as much as possible to the sun,
and often after many hours only a few spare spoonfuls (and sometimes
nothing) could be obtained from it.
Last of all, the cook, after cleaning out the kettle, also fights his
way into the sleeping-sack, which thus attains its proper complement. A
side position is the only one possible--to-night all lie to the left,
to-morrow all to the right. Comfortable positions, such as stretching
on one’s back for example, meet with a miserable protest, as well as
any other after-movement; and when at length silence falls upon all,
the eight men form one single lump.
The nose acts no longer merely as a condenser, as on the spring
journey; it now becomes a cold-pole, and leaving it outside the rimy
and icy covering is preferable to burying it in the questionable
atmosphere of the sack. The mouth, as the only outlet of exhalation,
must remain open, but the teeth get so cold that they feel like
icicles, and the mask, which it is necessary to wear in the night
freezes to the long beard.
Happy were those who, during the lowest temperature within the first
fourteen days of our journey, could really lose themselves during the
hours of rest, if only for a short time, for they were generally passed
in a painful waiting for a happy release, by--dragging!
This general wakefulness made it unnecessary to set a special watch for
bears and foxes, which occasionally made a bold raid upon the stores in
the sledge, for they had never yet succeeded in approaching us quite
noiselessly.
In spite of all efforts to the contrary, the cutting cold too soon
penetrated the sleeping-sack; within the tent the temperature sinks
from 60° or 65°, to below zero, and the body has to be again refreshed
with artificial warmth, by motion and hot food.
The natural consequences of this state of temperature is a continually
increasing sensation of freezing until the morning. During the day the
sack has got thoroughly cold on the sledge, and must again be warmed
by bodily heat, being frozen into thick folds as hard as iron. Whoever
lies upon these seems to be lying on laths, which towards morning begin
to lose their sharpness. One or the other we keep a bottle of snow
about us. All are shivering, scarcely any sleep. For hours together we
are in a state of suffocation, the pressure on either side causing a
feeling as though the collar-bone was being forced into the chest, and
the shoulders crushed. Each lies upon his arm (which of course goes to
sleep), and is often prevented from breathing by the smell of train-oil
proceeding from his neighbour’s sealskin. The breath condenses over the
face and upon the sloping tent-side, in long snow webs, which fall at
the slightest movement.
The misery of tent life reaches its maximum during an uninterrupted
snow-storm of sometimes three days’ duration. So long as this assumes
the form of a hurricane, no one can leave the tent without danger of
either being suffocated or blown away. These Greenland snow-storms,
which carry small stones with them, greatly resemble West Indian
hurricanes, only that the sun is completely darkened by the rush of
snow.
Of course our tents would soon have been blown over, if some
precautions had not been taken. Great distress reigned within. The wind
greatly lessened the already small space by pressing in the walls.
Through the canvas, through every stitch or smallest opening, spurts
a small flood of the finest snow, like flour out of a flour-mill, or
collects itself on the inner surface, where its ever-increasing weight
at length brings it down like small avalanches. As long as the storm
rages the cold is alleviated from the equalization of warm air over the
sea, though it seldom allows any heat to remain in the tent, so that we
were still in a cold of from 14° to 5° Fahr.
By degrees a covering of snow at least an inch thick lies on the sack,
under which we must patiently wait till the storm ceases. We scrape it
away with the knife, but it soon returns again. On some occasions this
snow began to melt, and penetrate the clothes, making us look like
seals coming up out of the water.
In a steadily rising temperature, too, the snow on which we lay would
melt, and the sack get wet underneath, not to dry again till the
summer, but freeze on the sledge in those hard folds we dreaded so
much. We repeatedly felt the want of india-rubber coverings.
This state of things often lasted from two to three days, and we
waited with an indifference bordering on stupidity, sitting squeezed,
with numbed hands, mending the gloves or stockings, almost freezing,
masked; beards full of ice, stuffed up with a chaos of frozen clothes
and boots, and, worst of all, fasting. The duration of the journey, as
well as the extent of country to be explored, depended upon the use of
the provisions. If, therefore, some part of the time was lost through
storms, this loss, in spite of hunger, thirst, and loss of strength,
could only be regained by reduced rations, which often only consisted
of a thin soup.
The saucepan has become leaky, a small sea has formed on the sack,
the spirit-lamp runs, and repeatedly threatens to destroy the tent by
fire, which, during the storm, would be the work of a moment. The cook
grumbles, burns his fingers to-day which were frozen yesterday;--urged
on by hunger, his cooking is subject to sharp criticism, as each is
waiting for the eventful moment when the meal shall be ready.
All food was frozen--even brandy began to freeze one night--meat in the
tins or ham had to be chopped with the axe; butter could, without any
fear, be carried in the waistcoat-pocket, to be enjoyed on the march.
Woe to the unfortunate man who, in a lull of the storm, goes into
the open air. He is almost torn to pieces, stifled by the snow-filled
air, betrayed into snow-drifts, and yet not daring to open his eyes.
Numbed with cold, white as a miller, he returns to the tent. Here he
is a subject of horror to his neighbours in the sack, whom he intends
robbing of their warmth to thaw himself. The snow-powder blown in upon
the opening of the tent-door has penetrated through all the clothes,
and the skin has to be scraped, and any frost-bites that may have
set in have to be dispersed by rubbing. Indeed, the disturbance and
excitement consequent upon a walk in the open air does not subside for
some hours.
But the snow-blind suffer the most from such a state of things. Out of
consideration to them smoking was dropped.
The irritation caused by the white snow-flakes, which with us are
easily beaten aside, causes great suffering in Greenland, from the
inflamed state of the eyes and the thick heavy atmosphere, to those who
may have been unfortunate enough to break their snow-spectacles.
Beating them off while on the march is impossible, for the damp cloth
freezes at once to a lump of ice, making the eyes insupportably cold.
The simple bandage, on the other hand, does not save one from the
steady burning pain, which acts like needle-pricks. Opening the eye
for a moment is not to be thought of. The blind are obliged to pull
with the others, as the laden sledge cannot be moved but by our united
strength.
As a rule, we break up about five a.m. The thin black coffee is taken
with some ice-cold bread dust,[66] which effectually destroys all
its warming properties, mixed into it like a mash, and then follows
laborious packing up of the clothes, in order to be prepared for all
weathers. The frozen boots must first be thawed with the hands, and the
folds taken out, the tent freed from snow, and beaten until pliable.
The sleeping-sack receives the same treatment, which, as a sign of our
disgust and its daily-increasing weight from the ice, we named “the
Walrus.”
The soaked sealskin clothing freezes at once in the air, and damp
condenses on the hair in frost-blossoms. One or the other rubs his face
with scraped snow to refresh his eyes--a novel kind of washing, in
default of water, though with the slightest breath of wind his hands
are in danger of freezing. After every snow-storm, tent and sledge has
to be dug out, and the contents cleaned with difficulty.
All this business occupies about two hours, when the traces are taken
up with great satisfaction, as a long-looked-for release from the pain
of the nightly couch. The sledge is loosened from its frozen position,
and the journey continued, which, after twenty-three days, brought us
to 77° of Lat., the most northerly point ever reached on the east coast
of Greenland.
But we will now give an account of this expedition. It ought really
to have begun on the 7th of March; but an accident happened to one of
our comrades, who, on the evening of the 6th, had been attacked in the
darkness by a bear, and severely injured. This occasioned some delay,
and we started on the morning of the 8th of March.
We had two sledges and ten men. The smaller of the two was harnessed to
four men, and was to accompany us for a week, providing us with food,
and after laying a depôt on the east coast of Hochstetter’s Promontory,
was to return to the ship.
We judged that our journey would last fifty or sixty days. The
first day our advance was rendered so difficult by the hard, rough,
sharp-edged snow-drifts, that we could only get the sledges along half
laden, thus having to go over the road three times, and we only reached
the north end of Sabine Island.
The next day, finding the obstacles insurmountable, we thought to
better ourselves by enlarging the tent, in spite of the fearful cold on
the open field, and taking eight men with us instead of six, the other
two returning to the ship; but even up to the 10th of March no change
for the better set in.
Only with great trouble and in constant danger of destruction could
we get the sledge over the masses of snow: signs of a heavy storm
were also visible; so, not to expend our time and strength in vain,
we determined to return to the ship, and await a more favourable
opportunity for our undertaking. Upon reaching it, we saw a hunter
chasing a bear, which, with the agility of a cat, was climbing the
slopes of Germania mountain. He and his companion had besieged the ship
for some time.
On the 12th of March we fetched back the sledge from the north end of
Sabine Island, and on this occasion erected a provision depôt. The
dreadful snow-storm of the next few days made us bewail the loss of
time, but showed us how fruitless the continuation of our journey would
have been.
At last, on the 24th of March, circumstances had, we thought, taken
a more favourable turn; so we left the vessel at nine a.m. for the
second time. Six men--Ellinger, Herzberg, Mieders, Klentzer, Wagner,
the carpenter, and our commander, Koldewey, and Payer--dragged
the large one; four men--Sengstacke, Krauschner, Iversen, and the
boatswain--managed the convoy. As before, we realized the mildness of
the temperature in the harbour compared with the snowy waste to the
north of Sabine Island.
The whole of Sengstacke’s right foot was frost-bitten the first day,
and rubbing with snow during the whole of the night was of no use; so
the convoy sledge had to return the following day, which was a great
loss for us. We increased our store of provisions by taking that from
the other sledge, and continued our journey; but on the 27th of March
a snow-storm kept us in the tent, and on the afternoon of the 28th the
sledge broke down one of the curved irons which supported it. With much
trouble this was repaired, but the violence of the storm raging on the
29th and 30th prevented us from leaving the tent.
On the 31st of March, after a night of torment, we pulled through the
straits between Shannon Island (from which a herd of musk oxen watched
us with astonishment) and Hochstetter’s Promontory. Upon reaching
a large iceberg to the south-east of the latter, we took advantage
of the sunny weather to shake out our ice-encumbered sleeping-sack.
Unfortunately this brought no relief for the next night, as the low
temperature robbed every one of sleep. The coast-edge of Hochstetter’s
Promontory (stretching direct north and south), we passed near enough
to allow of a fruitless raid upon a herd of musk oxen. As soon as
the hunter was within 200 steps of them, the animals formed their
accustomed square, and, placing the young ones in the centre, they
all take to flight, reversing these tactics whenever they are pursued.
A geological excursion to the small clefts in the valley of the
basin-shaped land, which rose a few hundred feet, would have been
well worth the trouble. The completely horizontal strata of micaceous
sandstone (containing fossil bivalves), belonging to the mesozoic[67]
epoch, contained layers of lias coal, dark and sometimes syenitic
gneiss, and a reddish degenerate kind of the same.
In the evening the island of Koldewey, many hundred feet high, came
above the horizon, distorted by the refraction into wild forms. Against
the ever-increasing wind we sought to warm ourselves by pulling hard
at the sledge; but noses, feet, and hands were all endangered. The
distance travelled lately amounted to from ten to fifteen English miles
daily. We had gone over the north end of Shannon, and saw icebergs in
increasing numbers before us.
On the 2nd of April a snow-storm again kept us in the tent. On the
3rd we reached the north end of Hochstetter’s Promontory, formed by
Cape Oswald Heer, next to the most northerly boundary of the explored
country in East Greenland. The peninsula of Haystack, miscalled by
Clavering an island, forms this boundary with a pyramidal summit of
from 600 to 700 feet high.
Near to this mountain our sledge broke down in the evening for the
second time; this, however, caused no loss of time, as the ascent of
Mount Haystack, a point so important for the determination of our
positions, could upon no account be left undone. The mountain is, as it
were, sprinkled with erratic blocks, belonging partly to a very recent
formation, and, like the high ridge of the coast consists chiefly of
gneiss, with alternate layers of red felspar. The scanty vegetation
already showed signs of budding. From the point one perceives a large
bay (Bessel Bay) to the north, with the mouth of several fjords; to
the east nothing was to be seen but ice and the north end of Shannon,
with its soft undulating mountains. The rosy sloping masses of Koldewey
Island, in the north-east, looked in the splendour of the setting sun
like fairy-land. An endless snowy waste of bluish-grey shadows lay
between it and us. Half we had already traversed.
Near us rose the high, wild, Alpine front of the geologically
interesting island of Kuhn; to the west lay a rough mountainous
district, the interior of which had never yet been trodden by the
foot of man, and in which Clavering mistakenly makes a fjord (called
Roseneath Inlet) penetrate, which really never existed.
From Cape Heer to Cape Seebach (west of Haystack) ran a beautiful
bay, opening to the south, which, from its position, one would be
inclined to say would form a perfect harbour for the winter. But what
irreparable danger we should have run if, in the previous summer, we
had found this bay free from ice, and had taken possession of it,
instead of that to the south of Sabine Island! Now it was blocked with
ice--perhaps had been for a decade--certainly for some years. Even the
deep pools south of Haystack lay upon ice several years old.
In the course of the afternoon’s march we had a bear-hunt, though an
unsuccessful one. A she-bear and her two cubs--the latter very like
poodles, and from their dirty yellow colour and black noses perceptible
for a long distance--were making quickly towards us, but when within
about 400 paces, our firing drove them back.
[Illustration: SURPRISED BY A BEAR.]
On the morning of the 4th of April another bear attacked us in the
tent, but paid for his temerity with his life, giving us a can of fat
(which served as fuel for four days) and a good deal of meat, which
we immediately enjoyed raw. For the first time drowsiness overcame us
all, and first one and then another closed his eyes. In the afternoon
snow again drifted from the north, against which we marched for some
hours, but were eventually obliged to put up the tent. This lasted
to the 5th, and kept us prisoners. A sudden and unexpected increase
of temperature, although only lasting some hours, made the snow
melt inside our tent, placing us in a most uncomfortable state. On
the 6th of April we crossed the 76° of Lat., and reached the level
mountain-foot of a cape called Karl Ritter, which was bounded to the
north by the beautiful bay of Bessel (named after the great German
astronomer), so rich in fjords. The shore consisted of mica gneiss,
alternating with amphibolite, and a very coarse-grained granite,
with red orthoclase, green oligoclase, and black mica. To our great
astonishment, on the south side of the cape, amongst some remains of
bones of sea animals, we came upon some Esquimaux dwellings. They were
summer tents, marked by a circle of stones, the hide being held down,
and kept upright by a centre pole.
Our road, in the meantime, had assumed a totally different character.
It consisted of lumps of ice rounded by evaporation, amongst which
we lost our can of bear’s-grease. Nevertheless, the same evening we
reached the southern exit of a second very large bay (Roon Bay), north
of Cape Peschel, which was marked by the wildest mountain character.
The icebergs here increased everywhere both in size and numbers. They
are successors of the glaciers, and are distinguished by their light
green colour, their sharp, craggy formation, and more particularly
the layers, which differ from the bluish and less dense ice of the
sea-formed ice-floe. The appearance of these icebergs on the open sea
is very irregular, as the icing of the bays stops all communication of
the Fjord with the Arctic currents often for a decade of years, and
the icebergs grow together with the flat ice into masses, until a
steady increase of temperature and spring storms open the latter and
release the former. It is also possible that the released fragments of
East-Greenland glaciers may be carried to the west coast by a connexion
of the different fjords and currents, or that by interior channels they
arrive in Scoresby’s or Davis’ Strait.
Straight to the north of us rose an imposing wall, 3280 feet high.
Its banks of gneiss, with their varied colours, sloped at an angle of
15° southwards. We named this reddish wall the “Devil’s Cape,” and
were inclined to believe that behind it the Greenland coast, trending
towards the north-west, was probably connected with Smith Sound.
Towards evening, in the far distance to the north, appeared fresh
monstrous mountain chains, with outlying islands. We could not now
tell whether we had to do with an entirely insular opening or with an
enormous bay, as we were not in a position to give a decided opinion.
Under such circumstances, our orders were to keep to the outer edge of
the coast, from which we were already separated by the far-advancing
land of Koldewey Island. So we continued our course in a north-easterly
direction.
On such a voyage of discovery, it may be laid down as a useful rule
to keep at least from five to ten English miles from the coast,
occasionally landing to climb some high look-out. Circuitous routes are
thus saved, projecting points only being touched without hugging the
coast-line: wrong roads are in this way avoided; and, above all, by
these means the land-survey is correctly and quickly completed.
The nearer one goes to the coast, the narrower will the horizon
become, as much from cliffs as from low undulating shores.
Our new course brought us, still on the 7th of April, into a huge waste
of loose snow, of ever increasing depth, which stopped our further
advance. Mock suns, with double circles, which hung with wonderful
effect in the afternoon over the colossal rocks of Roon Bay, warned us
of the approach of unfavourable weather.
On the 8th, we continued our journey during a raging snow-storm. The
“Devil’s” Cape, only one German mile distant, appeared with a faint
outline, as if seen through a thick curtain. The snow, in which, in
spite of the intense cold, we sank deeper and deeper, hindered us so
much that, even with judicious alterations in the pulling, we were six
hours making five English miles, and the slides of the sledge acted
as a perfect plough. From increasing dysentery, the loss of the opium
bottle was much felt.
On the night of the 8th to the 9th some foxes attacked the remains of
the frozen bear’s meat on the sledge.
On the evening of the 9th, after a wearying march, we reached an island
group (East Island) 650 feet high, in the middle of the large bay (Dove
Bay), of which we climbed the highest summit, to inspect the nature of
the land and explore our future course.
The view from the heights showed us that, besides the one entrance,
there was no other means of egress to the coast but by the narrow
straits to the north of Koldewey Island; but still, in another point
of view, the ascent of this height was of great interest; for we found
that the westerly background of Dove Bay, which is filled with numerous
moderately high-lying islands, formed a high mountainous country,
separated by a large Fjord, and extending for sixty miles with glaciers
and mountain tops, which we estimated at 6500 feet high. From the
direction of some of these fjords, we conjectured that the one at the
back of Ardencaple Bay communicated with the sounds of Bessel and Dove
Bays.
On all sides the chain was of wonderful beauty. Glacier cascades, more
than a mile broad, fell from a snow plateau 4800 feet high, in the
north-west. Icebergs of monstrous height, which on that very account we
mistook for islands, were iced up in the interior of the bays.
The rocks of East Island were polished to the summit, and cast in the
most picturesque forms, and often, supported only by a small stone,
huge erratic blocks rested on the ridges. These blocks had evidently
fallen in the place and spot, and had not rolled there. Once, perhaps,
they had been borne by ice-floes, dropped to the bottom of the sea, and
this, in the course of time, had risen, or else the level of the sea
might have sunk. At least, this seemed the only feasible explanation of
their erratic appearance on the summit itself.
Several hours’ drawing and work with the theodolite had completely
numbed me by the time we left the mountain, the snowy slopes of which
bore traces of bears and ptarmigan.
On the 10th of April we kept in an easterly direction, towards the
north end of the most northerly of the Koldewey Islands. Violently
drifting snow, with heavy atmosphere, increased snow-blindness, and
drowsiness paralyzed all of us. Nearly the whole day long did we take
a picture produced by the Fata Morgana for real land. Cape Heligoland,
the north-west corner of the rocky island, which we reached in the
evening, consists of very thin layers of hornblende-schist, with
distinct traces of glacial detritus. For the first time, in spite of
the lowness of the temperature, we saw the snow melt on the rocks, from
the now increasing power of the sun.
On the morning of the 11th of April we had again 27° Fahr. below zero.
In an almost northerly direction, and after that, by reconnoitring, we
had fully convinced ourselves that any attempt to reach the outer coast
edge would be attended with great loss of time, we continued our way
along the inner part of Dove Bay, and reached the end of our actual
sledge journey in a bay bounded by an easterly-lying plateau, 975 feet
high. This we called Storm Bay, and not without a cause. The cape
bounding Dove Bay, to the east, we named Cape Bismarck (76° 47′).
On the 12th we climbed to this plateau during a violent snow-storm,
which effectually prevented any great geographical acquisition.
Returning to the tent, a raging storm broke over us, and a fresh flood
of snow fell, lasting three days. During this time we ate almost
nothing, as our store of provisions threatened to disappear altogether.
Scarcely ever was the fast of Passion week (14th April) more strictly
observed than it was by us.
Not until the 15th could we leave the tent. The three days of
inactivity had diminished our strength; faint, hungry, and thirsty,
we started upon our last stretch of journey to the north, leaving the
tent behind us, and taking only a covering. Want of provisions, which
necessitated our returning, forbade our extending the journey further.
Some musk oxen, which we came upon unexpectedly, were clever enough
not to prove the range of the rifle, and out-manœuvred Ellinger, who,
after making a wide circuit, thought to come close upon them. In deep
snow we accomplished the thirty miles there and back to a mountain more
than 1080 feet high, which rose above the plateau stretching along the
coast.
We had crossed the 77th degree of latitude! Like so many of our
predecessors, we, too, longed to lift the veil hanging over the whole
of the Arctic world, so opposed to the mandate, “Thus far shalt thou
go, and no further;” and, like so many others, found that our object
gained fell far short of our bold flights of fancy; and that, resting
after endless troubles at the end of our journey, we still looked in
vain for the solution of the many riddles which science expected of
us. The conjecture, once broached, of an open Arctic Sea, we could,
from our stand-point, only reject as idle. To the furthest point of the
horizon the sea was covered with a solid covering of ice, over which,
had it not been for the want of provisions, we could have continued our
sledge journey. The outer coast-line stretched in an almost northerly
direction; to the north-west, the prospect was closed in by lofty
ice-covered mountains, only a few miles distant.
The question, in which direction Greenland now extended, had thus far
found no solution. The great number of inland maritime districts, the
everywhere striking division of land which, in a favourable bright
evening, stood out so plainly, gave room to the conjecture that the
chief mass of land (if this should be a continent), probably trended
off to the north-west, in 76° Lat., and that we as yet had only to do
with outlying islands; this, at least, appeared as likely as a north
and south continuation of the coast, as arbitrarily represented on
charts for many years past.
A feeling of awe steals over the most thoughtless when his feet stands
on virgin ground, and there lies before him a world on which, from the
beginning of time, no European eye has ever rested.
The North-German and Austrian flags fluttered in a light north wind
peaceably side by side. We erected a cairn, which will doubtless remain
unmoved, though perhaps never again seen to the end of time, and placed
inside it a box containing a short account of our voyage. The document
ran thus: “This spot, which lies in 77° 1′ North Lat. and 18° 50′ West
Long. from Greenwich, was reached by the German Arctic Expedition in
sledges (the last three German miles on foot) starting from the winter
harbour by Sabine Island, after an absence from the ship of twenty-two
days.”
The storms, which for eight days kept us in the tent, and partly the
great difficulties of the journey, as well as the want of provisions,
prevented us from advancing further. The coast which falls off rugged
to the east stretches into a plateau for about 1500 feet further to
the north. The sea, as far as the eye could reach (about seventy-five
miles) offered one continuous surface of ice. The land ice, which is
perfectly free from lumps, and is and has to all appearances been fast
for years, stretches at least ten miles from the coast. The weather was
very clear at sea, particularly to the east, in which not a sign of
water was perceptible.
Good Friday, 15th April, 1870.
Karl Koldewey, Commander of the Expedition; Julius Payer,
first-lieutenant; Thomas Klentzer, Peter Ellinger, sailors. Captain
Koldewey remarks: “We put up the telescope of the theodolite on a
distant ice-block, and let it stand for some time, in order to prove
the motion of the ice, if there was any; but the ice-block remained
stationary, as we fully expected, as the heavy sea ice seemed to be
closely joined to the land ice. Fully convinced that perhaps never, or
at least only in very particularly favourable, years, could any ship
advance along this coast, we set out on our return journey; the ice
gave one the impression of a rampart built for eternity. With sledges
it is possible, if the equipment is adequate, and the strength of the
Expedition is concentrated upon them, to go considerably beyond 80°
Lat. This is greatly facilitated by the quantity of game, by which, to
a certain extent, the stock of provisions may be renewed.
We got nine shots, and at half-past three p.m. began our return to the
tent.
Captain Koldewey had finished his study of the situation of the ice
in the east, and Payer his work of land surveying, and had collected
some mosses, lichen, saxifrage, and some specimens of granite, syenite,
and hornblende-gneiss. The greater part of our return journey was
made under increasing snow falls; and soon after reaching the tent,
completely exhausted, the roaring north wind began, interrupted by
short periods of calm, until it rose to a regular storm.
From our critical position with regard to provisions for our return
journey to the ship we were in the meantime happily freed. Those who
had been left behind in the tent had succeeded in killing two musk
oxen, which on our return they triumphantly exhibited. Some willow,
gathered under difficulties, gave us plenty of fuel--and this we might
thank for enabling us to obtain water--which with the meat formed
a luxurious meal. Merely the flesh was cut from the creatures, and
together with the hams packed on the sledge. This, together with a bear
which we killed a few days later, lasted until we reached the ship.
By degrees we had accustomed ourselves to eat reindeer, walrus, seal,
bear, and musk oxen raw, and indeed fresh killed, for the nourishment
contained in the fresh meat overcame the disagreeable taste of
train-oil, and the great decrease of our stock of spirit compelled us
to do so.
Only at first did we object: tufts of hair, wool from our coverlids,
with coffee, bread dust, pepper, and juniper-berries (the contents
of the sacks had become partly mixed), the remains of bears’ grease,
frozen butter, and the rest of the soup left at the last meal; we were
only too glad to swallow all when at last necessity compelled.
The snow-storm lasted till the 16th April, and the temperature suddenly
rose for a few hours to 17° Fahr., which caused the tiresome thawing
of the snow in the tent. Not till five p.m., when we started, was the
atmosphere still; some feet of fresh snow had fallen, and still the
storm raged; the clouds lay close to the earth--only occasionally for
a moment could we see the long wall of Devil’s Cape in bluish colours
far to the south-west. The road back to Cape Heligoland was traversed
slowly and silently. Beyond that was the large snowy waste south of
Dove Bay. We waded through it during Easter time, as step by step we
sank up to the thighs through the crusted surface, and in spite of the
greatest exertions could only make a short day’s journey. Panting and
almost bent double we tugged at the traces; with struggles the sledge
followed, sinking deep into the snow-dust, almost as much swimming as
gliding.
We did not now depend much upon the daylight, as the sun only remained
a short time below the horizon. We slept in the day, marched during
the night, and at midnight had a short rest in the tent, rendered very
painful by the frost.
Shortly after midnight the sun rose blood-red above the faint violet
silhouette of the mountain ridge of the most northerly discovered land
(King William’s Land), and brightly shone the rocky front of Cape
Peschel towering in the waste. Radiant lay the endless snow-fields in a
yellowish rosy shimmer, over which the wind rolls thick veils of snow,
resembling in effect of colour, from the illumination of the low-lying
sun, an undulating flow of molten steel,[68] driving away over the
diamond-sparkling road, and the long bluish shadows of the men breaking
through the snowy masses as they knocked against each other in their
violent and unequal motion, a spectacle and a work for the cursed,
which Dante might have held up to the coryphees of his infernal regions.
During the short rests on our return journey we employed ourselves by
splitting the frozen flesh into strips--as hard as oak--to put into the
kettle with the soup or coffee, that we might the better enjoy it.
Only by enduring the extremes of hunger and thirst, and enjoying the
smallest possible quantity of sleep, is the Arctic traveller enabled to
reach high latitudes. After a few weeks his strength greatly decreases,
his rations steadily lessen, the baggage he has to draw seems to
increase, the nightly chills, the disturbed digestion from insufficient
nourishment, the cold, and so on, lead to depression or sickness,
particularly to dysentery. The tongue is often covered with blisters
from taking the food boiling hot. The constant change from wet to frost
leads to wounds in the limbs, to the utter rotting and destruction of
clothes, as well as to other internal evils, at last we went about in
little else than torn stockings. Upon leaving the tent after several
days’ snow-storm one felt all the feebleness of convalescence. With
gnawing hunger drowsiness was combined, which so overcame some of our
party that they dragged with closed eyes, only half awake, and between
the short pauses sank at once to sleep. Of course they had to be
awakened immediately.
As we struck our tent at six a.m. on the 17th of April, the light-lying
snow was four feet deep. On the 18th the cold again reached 13° Fahr.,
the daily distance made under the greatest exertions attendant upon
great exhaustion, was but a few nautical miles. For hours together
icebergs already passed seemed unchanged in point of distance. Not
until the 19th did our road improve, when we slept better than we had
done for a long time. One single sunny morning with moderate cold, how
it raised the spirits and quieted the nerves!
Everywhere from the direction of the snow-drifts could we tell the
local change of the prevailing wind. On the 20th, south of Devil’s
Cape, we killed a bear which was on the point of attacking us in the
tent; its fat freed us for some time (from the increasing want of
fuel to melt the snow) from the fatiguing and precarious task of
willow-seeking on the neighbouring coast, as well as from the further
destruction of our sledge which had already been stripped of every
available piece of wood.
A short visit to Peschel Island, which lies over against the cape
of the same name, during the journey of the 21st, convinced me once
more of the great identity of the geological structure with the old
crystal line formation belonging to the East Greenland coast. The
island consisted of alternate strata of amphibolite and gneiss.
Everywhere were to be seen large blocks of thirty-three cubic feet
of hornblende-rock, and glacial detritus, which attained a maximum
elevation of 229 feet.
On the 22nd a bear attacked us while dragging, and was killed. A piece
of his skin was taken with us and the head laid with the remainder.
We then had to put up with drifting snow exactly resembling a storm,
though it did not prevent us from advancing, as we had the wind at our
backs and had made a sail of the empty sacks, which greatly lightened
our load; indeed, so much so for some distance, that the sledge ran
with but very moderate pulling. During such snow-drifting it often
happened that we had not the slightest idea where the land lay.
The snow-drifting lasted through the 23rd, its numbing influence being
increased by some hours’ unsheltered stay on the peninsula of Haystack,
where we tried in vain to sever the head of a bear, killed some time
before, to take with us.
A troop of foxes, which for weeks had been gnawing at the frozen flesh,
would scarcely be driven away, and then were constantly returning.
The temperature of the last few days had risen to 3° Fahr.; but on the
24th and 25th April it fell again to -13°.
One of the sailors, a Frankfort man, Peter Ellinger (called Hans), the
heartiest companion and the most difficult to replace, had greatly
suffered[69] from excessive exertion and the frost; and as a great deal
depended upon his being with us in the expedition for exploring the
great Fjords to the north-west of Ardencaple Bay in the next sledge
journey (which we were to begin after eight days’ rest, and which would
last for four weeks), Payer and he left the sledge, in order to reach
the ship and the doctor as soon as possible.
On the 26th they helped to drag the sledge from twelve p.m. to
half-past eight a.m., when they started alone with some provisions and
melted water, which however soon froze on their bodies, across the
snow-fields to the south, the sledge following slowly. The snow soon
began to lose its hardness, and the nearer we came to land the looser
and deeper it became from the drifts. The sight of the well-known walls
and capes which had become our home, gave to our wishes and hopes a
quiet security.
But our quarter-master had not accomplished the day’s march of forty
miles to the rocky coast of Sabine Island, on the south-east shore of
which the winter harbour lay, when the dreaded signs of a storm arose.
The curtains of snow began to rise from the ground, causing them to
regret the furs they had left behind; and as they could neither reach
the sledge nor the ship in time, they were placed in a somewhat serious
predicament.
However the storm subsided, the sun came out and shone brightly
over the land as we set foot on the shore of the island, whilst the
softening of the snow compelled us to raise the tent earlier than
usual, and to take our last disposable meal. We slept at the foot of a
cliff in Clavering Straits. Ellinger laid down on the rugged edge of
the coast, and Payer sat beside to watch, the gun lying cocked by his
side.
With what delight could one enjoy the bright sunshine in this wild
scenery. The strand ice began to whisper and to crack with the
tide--the recollection of awakening spring at home lay alluringly near.
Hans slept softly: it was a pity to have to wake him in a few minutes,
which we must do for fear he should freeze.
Then a bird’s note sounded from the walls above, the first greeting
of the awakening spring! After Payer had also rested, the journey was
continued, avoiding the long road along the shore; and, though in
stockings, they had to traverse sharp rocky slopes, blocks, and lumps
of snow over high chains of mountains; and from the summit of the last
they looked down upon the winter harbour.
There lay the ship still surrounded with ice. The coast-land, which
we had left in its winter dress, had again donned its characteristic
brown, and looked quite strange.
Payer and Ellinger descended from the mountain. Full of joyful
expectation did they approach the ship, which struck them (as it did
us afterwards) as being wonderfully large and stately. It was midnight
when the travellers reached it, after a march of twenty-one hours and
a half. A black face looked up astonished from the engine-room. It
was that of the engineer Krauschner, who was busily cleaning all up
for the summer cruise. The unusual footsteps on deck called Copeland,
Börgen, and Pansch up armed, and the meeting was attended with as much
excitement as if they had been separated for years.
At Captain Koldewey’s desire, Sengstacke immediately came back to
meet us with provisions, and on the following day (27th April) we all
reached the ship together.
After such an expedition there is great danger in entering suddenly
under a warm roof. Upon reaching the cabin, the blood rushed
immediately to the surface.
What a wonder the ship seemed to us! A cabin--which had now been turned
into a carpenter’s shop--in which one could stand upright; boxes on
which we could sit. Here, after five weeks, we could once more undress
ourselves; here a berth, with mattress and coverings, invited us
instead of the sleeping-sack.
Our exceptional circumstances caused the cook to wink at the
consumption of his melted snow-water, to which we applied ourselves
unmolested: to satisfy ourselves was really hard work. For four hours
we ate, without intermission, of everything that came in our way: large
pieces of roasted bears’ flesh (they had been visited by bears in our
absence, and had killed some), bacon, vegetables, ship’s biscuit,
bread, butter, cheese, wine, chocolate, black coffee, and so on.
The change to rest was with some the beginning or the climax of ailing
symptoms, such as relaxation, rheumatic affections, cramp, dysentery,
and gastric ailments. But we were not allowed much time for repose, for
a few days after we started to explore Ardencaple Inlet.
This account of one of our five sledge journeys, which occupied three
months on the whole, will naturally raise the question whether, after
all these privations, science was in any way the gainer? Such was
the case. The discovery of a land stretching over several degrees of
latitude and longitude; the reaching the most northerly point ever yet
trodden in East Greenland; the conviction that the land was wonderfully
broken up and might possibly resolve itself into a group of islands;
the certainty from our geodetical work that a future measurement of
degrees would meet with no hindrance from climate, configuration of
ground, or atmospheric condition; the enriching of the geological
knowledge of our terrestrial globe; the confirmation of the conjecture
that the most recent geological formations were certainly not wanting
in the far north (as people were at one time inclined to believe); the
discovery of enormous glaciers, the surroundings of which perfectly
agreed with Peschel’s theory of the origin of fjords; the proof that
the Esquimaux must long since have deserted the north-east coast,[70]
and that the land is completely uninhabited; observations upon the
diffusion of certain plants and animals; upon the almost exclusive
dominions of the north wind; and lastly, the experience that the
navigability of the so-called coast water suffers great interruption
from the ice masses in the Arctic current, amongst the local
islands,--surely these may be considered as somewhat valuable results.
The following Table gives, the observations of temperature during
Captain Koldewey’s journey as compared with those taken at the same
time at the winter quarters on Sabine Island. The readings took place
from a thermometer agreeing with the standard instrument on board,
and noting the time at three and four periods during the day, from
which the simple mean was taken. For Sabine Island the daily mean was
reckoned from the same hours.
LONG SLEDGE JOURNEY NORTHWARDS. DISCOVERY OF KING WILLIAM’S
ISLAND.
----------+---------+-------------------------+-----------+
| Date. |Latitude.|Mean Daily Temperature[71]| Excess of |
| | | | |Temperature|
| | |on Journey.| on Sabine | on Sabine |
| | | | Island. | Island. |
----------+---------+-----------+-------------+-----------+
||March 24| | -15°.25 | -2°.65 | 12°.6 |
| „ 25| 74° 47′| -26°.05 | -11°.87 | 15°.18 |
| „ 26| 56′| -24°.47 | -19°.07 | 5°.4 |
| „ 27| | -9°.62 | -5°.57 | 4°.05 |
| „ 28| 75° 8′| -12°.1 | -7°.15 | 5°.95 |
| „ 29| 11′| -4°. | -4°.67 | -0°.67 |
| „ 30| 11′| -1°.52 | -3°.1 | -1°.58 |
| „ 31| 14′| -15°.7 | -7°.37 | 8°.33 |
|April 1| 25′| -21°.77 | -15°.02 | 6°.65 |
| „ 2| | -2°.2 | -3°.55 | -1°.53 |
| „ 3| 75° 37′| -12°.77 | -0°.17 | 12°.65 |
| „ 4| 49′| -7°.6 | -3°.77 | 3°.83 |
| „ 5| | 13°.55 | 6°.35 | -7°.2 |
| „ 6| 76° 6′| 9°.95 | 10°.62 | 0°.67 |
| „ 7| 20′| -3°.77 | 4°.1 | 7°.87 |
| „ 8| 32′| -13°.45 | 2°.75 | 10°.70 |
| „ 9| 38′| -10°.52 | -4°.45 | 6°.07 |
| „ 10| 42′| -9°.62 | -3°.55 | 6°.07 |
| „ 11| 50′| -21°.77 | -14°.12 | 7°.65 |
| „ 12| 50′| -11°.65 | -9°.85 | 1°.80 |
| „ 13| | 1°.3 | 0°.72 | 0°.57 |
| „ 14| | 7°.02 | 8°.82 | 1°.8 |
| „ 15| 77° 0′| 2°.3 | 7°.25 | 4°.95 |
| „ 16| | 8°.15 | 8°.15 | 0°.0 |
| „ 17| | 8°.15 | 7°.25 | -0°.90 |
| „ 18| | -13°.0 | 0°.95 | 11°.05 |
| „ 19| 76° 33′| 3°.2 | 7°.7 | 4°.5 |
| „ 20| 20′| 4°.77 | 9°.72 | 4°.95 |
| „ 21| 6′| 7°.2 | 15°.12 | 7°.92 |
| „ 22| 75° 48′| 0°.5 | 1°.62 | 1°.12 |
| „ 23| 24′| -4°.22 | 1°.85 | 6°.07 |
----------+---------+-----------+-------------+-----------+
|Mean temperatures | -5°.80 | -0°.85 | 4°.95 |
----------+---------+-----------+-------------+-----------+
[71] In degrees of Fahrenheit reduced from Reaumur’s Scale. (_Tr._)
The mean temperature on the sledge journey was therefore 4·95 degrees
lower than it was at the same time at Sabine Island. Hence we concluded
that the temperature decreases towards the north, although the
protected position of the winter harbour was partly the cause of its
greater warmth.