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TRUE TALES
OF ARCTIC HEROISM
[Illustration: DR. KANE'S MEN HAULING THEIR BOAT OVER ROUGH ICE.
From a sketch by Dr. Kane.]
TRUE TALES
OF ARCTIC HEROISM
IN THE NEW WORLD
BY
MAJOR-GENERAL A. W. GREELY, U. S. ARMY
GOLD-MEDALLIST ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY AND OF SOCIETE DE
GEOGRAPHIE
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Printed in the United States of America
[Illustration]
PREFACE
From the dawn of history great deeds and heroic actions have ever fed
the flame of noble thought. Horace tells us that
By Homer taught the modern poet sings
In epic strains of heroes, wars and kings.
The peace-aspiring twentieth century tends toward phases of heroism
apart from either wars or kings, and so the heroic strains of the "True
Tales" appear in the unwarlike environment of uncommercial explorations.
One object of this volume is to recall in part the geographic evolution
of North America and of its adjacent isles. The heroic-loving American
youth is not always familiar with the deeds of daring, the devotion to
duty, and the self-abnegation which have so often illumined the stirring
annals of exploration in arctic America.
Notable exemplars of heroic conduct have already been inscribed on the
polar scroll of immortals, among whom are Franklin and McClintock, of
England; Kane, of America; Rae, of Scotland; and Mylius-Erichsen, of
Denmark. Less known to the world are the names Broenlund, Egerton and
Rawson, Holm, Hegemann, Jarvis and Bertholf, Kalutunah, Parr, Petitot,
Pim, Richardson, Ross, Schwatka and Gilder, Sonntag, Staffe, Tyson and
Woon, whose deeds appear herein. As to the representative women, Lady
Jane Franklin is faintly associated in men's minds with arctic heroism,
while Merkut, the Inuit, has been only mentioned incidentally. Yet all
these minor actors have displayed similar qualities of courage and of
self-sacrifice which are scarcely less striking than those shown in the
lives of others who are recognized as arctic heroes.
The "True Tales" are neither figments of the fancy nor embellished
exaggerations of ordinary occurrences. They are exact accounts of
unusual episodes of arctic service, drawn from official relations and
other absolutely accurate sources. Some of these heroic actions involve
dramatic situations, which offer strong temptations for thrilling and
picturesque enlargements. The writer has sedulously avoided such
methods, preferring to follow the course quaintly and delightfully set
forth by the unsurpassed French essayist of the sixteenth century.
Montaigne says: "For I make others to relate (not after mine own
fantasy, but as it best falleth out) what I cannot so well express,
either through unskill of language or want of judgment. I number not my
borrowings, but I weigh them. And if I would have made their number to
prevail I would have had twice as many. They are all, or almost all, of
so famous and ancient names that methinks they sufficiently name
themselves without me."
The "Tale" of Merkut, the daughter of Shung-hu, is the only entirely
original sketch. The main incident therein has been drawn from an
unpublished arctic journal that has been in the writer's possession for
a quarter of a century. This character--a primitive woman, an unspoiled
child of the stone age--is not alone of human interest but of special
historic value. For her lovely heroic life indicates that the men and
women of ages many thousands of years remote were very like in character
and in nature to those of the present period.
A. W. GREELY.
WASHINGTON, D. C., _August_, 1912.
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE LOYALTY OF PHILIP STAFFE TO HENRY HUDSON 1
FRANKLIN'S CROSSING OF THE BARREN GROUNDS 13
THE RETREAT OF ROSS FROM THE _VICTORY_ 37
THE DISCOVERY OF THE NORTHWEST PASSAGE 55
THE TIMELY SLEDGE JOURNEY OF BEDFORD PIM 71
KANE'S RESCUE OF HIS FREEZING SHIPMATES 91
HOW WOON WON PROMOTION 105
THE ANGEKOK KALUTUNAH AND THE STARVING WHITES 119
DR. RAE AND THE FRANKLIN MYSTERY 137
SONNTAG'S FATAL SLEDGE JOURNEY 155
THE HEROIC DEVOTION OF LADY JANE FRANKLIN 169
THE MARVELLOUS ICE-DRIFT OF CAPTAIN TYSON 187
THE SAVING OF PETERSEN 213
LIFE ON AN EAST GREENLAND ICE-PACK 231
PARR'S LONELY MARCH FROM THE GREAT FROZEN SEA 251
RELIEF OF AMERICAN WHALERS AT POINT BARROW 269
THE MISSIONARY'S ARCTIC TRAIL 293
SCHWATKA'S SUMMER SEARCH 311
THE INUIT SURVIVORS OF THE STONE AGE 329
THE FIDELITY OF ESKIMO BROeNLUND 347
THE WIFELY HEROISM OF MERTUK, THE DAUGHTER OF SHUNG-HU 367
ILLUSTRATIONS
DR. KANE'S MEN HAULING THEIR BOAT OVER ROUGH ICE _Frontispiece_
From a sketch by Dr. Kane.
FACING
PAGE
HENRY HUDSON'S LAST VOYAGE 4
From the painting by the Hon. John Collier.
"WE WERE NEARLY CARRIED OFF, BOAT AND ALL,
MANY TIMES DURING THIS DREADFUL NIGHT" 208
From Tyson's Arctic Experiences.
A GROUP OF THE ESKIMO INUITS 334
LIST OF MAPS
PAGE
THE ARCTIC REGIONS OF THE NEW WORLD 2
HUDSON BAY AND HUDSON STRAIT 5
BARREN GROUNDS OF NORTHWESTERN CANADA 16
BOOTHIA PENINSULA AND NORTH SOMERSET 41
FRANKLIN'S ROUTE ON NORTHWEST PASSAGE 58
ROUTE OF PIM'S SLEDGE JOURNEY 75
SMITH SOUND AND WEST GREENLAND 95
BOOTHIA AND MELVILLE PENINSULAS 141
KING WILLIAM LAND 177
ROBESON CHANNEL AND LADY FRANKLIN BAY 217
SOUTHEASTERN GREENLAND 235
GREAT FROZEN SEA AND ROBESON CHANNEL 255
NORTHWESTERN ALASKA 273
LIVERPOOL BAY REGION 297
AMDRUP AND HAZEN LANDS, GREENLAND 351
[Illustration]
THE LOYALTY OF PHILIP STAFFE TO HENRY HUDSON
"You, Philip Staffe, the only one who chose
Freely to share with us the shallop's fate,
Rather than travel in the hell-bound ship--
Too good an English sailor to desert
Your crippled comrades."
--VAN DYKE.
On the walls of the great Tate Gallery in London are many famous
pictures, but few draw more attention from the masses or excite a
livelier human interest among the travelled than does "The Last Voyage
of Henry Hudson." While the artist dwells most on the courage of Henry
Hudson, he recalls the loyalty of Philip Staffe and thus unites high
human qualities ever admired.
Consider that in barely four years Hudson made search for both the
northeast and northwest passages, laid the foundations for the
settlement of New York, opened up Hudson Bay, and in a north-polar
voyage reached the then farthest north--a world record that was
unsurpassed for nearly two centuries. Few explorers in career, in
success, and in world influence have equalled Hudson, and among those
few are Columbus, Magellan, Vasco da Gama, and Livingston.
Thus Hudson's life was not merely an adventurous tale to be told,
whether in the golden words of a great chronicle or in magic colors
through the brush of a great artist. It appeals to the imagination and
so impresses succeeding generations throughout the passing centuries.
For such reasons the materialistic twentieth century acclaimed loudly
the fame of this unknown man--mysterious in his humanity though great as
a navigator. So in 1909 the deeds and life of Henry Hudson were
commemorated by the most wonderful celebration of the western
hemisphere, whether judged by its two millions of spectators, its
unsurpassed electric displays with six hundred thousand lights, or its
parade of great war-ships from eight admiring nations.
Great were his deeds; but what was the manner of this man who won that
greatest love from Philip Staffe, who in stress lay down life for his
master? There was religious duty done, for Purchas tells that "Anno,
1607, April the nineteenth, at Saint Ethelburge, in Bishops-gate Street,
did communicate these persons, seamen, purposing to go to sea in four
days after, to discover a passage by the north pole to Japan and China.
First, Henry Hudson, master.... Twelfthly, John Hudson, a boy." Hence we
have faith that Hudson was sound and true.
[Illustration: HENRY HUDSON'S LAST VOYAGE.
From the painting by the Hon. John Collier.]
The "Last Voyage" was in the _Discovery_, fifty-five tons only, during
which Hudson, in search of the northwest passage, explored and wintered
in Hudson Bay. The journal of Abacuck Prickett, the fullest known, gives
a human touch to the voyage. He tells of a bear, "which from one
ice-floe to another came toward us, till she was ready to come aboard
the ship. But when she saw us look at her, she cast her head between her
hind legs, and then dived under the ice, and so from piece to piece,
till she was out of our reach."
[Illustration: Hudson Bay and Hudson Strait.]
Some strange-appearing Indian caches were found, of which he relates:
"We saw some round hills of stone, like to grass cocks, which at first
I took to be the work of some Christian. We went unto them, turned off
the uppermost stone, and found them hollow within, and full of fowls
hanged by their necks." Later he adds: "We were desirous to know how the
savages killed their fowl, which was thus: They take a long pole with a
snare or (noose) at the end, which they put about the fowl's neck, and
so pluck them down."
Hudson unwisely decided to remain in the bay through the winter and put
the _Discovery_ into quarters in James Bay, an unfortunate though
possibly inevitable anchorage. Knowing as we do the terrible cold of the
winters in the Hudson Bay region, it is certain that the illy provided
crew must have suffered excessively during the winter. Besides, the ship
was provisioned only for six months and must be absent nearly a year.
Sensible of the situation, Hudson encouraged systematic hunting and
promised a reward for every one who "killed either beast, or fish, or
fowl." The surrounding forests and barren hills were scoured for
reindeer-moss or any other vegetable matter that could be eaten, while
the activity of the hunters was such that in three winter months they
obtained more than twelve hundred ptarmigan. Nevertheless, they were in
straits for food despite efforts at sea and on land.
They had sailed a few days only on their homeward voyage when the
discontent and insubordination, engendered the preceding winter, had
swollen into mutiny. Alleging that there had been unfairness in the
distribution of food, Henry Greene, a dissipated youth who owed his
position to Hudson's kindness, incited his fellows to depose Hudson and
cast him adrift. That this was a mere suspicion is clear from the cruel
and inhuman treatment of their sick and helpless shipmates, who also
suffered Hudson's fate.
Prickett relates that Hudson was brought bound from his cabin, and "Then
was the shallop hauled up to the ship's side, and the poor, sick, and
lame men were called on to get them out of their cabins into the
shallop." Two of the seamen, Lodlo and Bute, railed at the mutineers and
were at once ordered into the boat.
Philip Staffe, the former carpenter, now mate, took a decided stand
against the mutineers, but they decided that he should remain on the
ship owing to his value as a skilled workman. He heroically refused to
share their lot, but would go with the master, saying, "As for himself,
he would not stay in the ship unless they would force him."
The private log of Prickett, though favoring always the mutineers with
whom he returned to England, clearly shows that Philip Staffe was a man
of parts although unable to either read or write. His high character and
unfailing loyalty appear from his decision. He was steadfast in
encouraging those inclined to despair, and also discouraged grumbling
discontent which was so prevalent in the ship. He was one of the men
sent to select the location of winter quarters on the desolate shores of
James Bay. Faithful to his sense of duty, he knew how and when to stand
for his dignity and rights. He displayed spirit and resolution when
Hudson, in untimely season and in an abusive manner, ordered him in a
fit of anger to build a house under unsuitable conditions ashore. Staffe
asserted his rights as a ship's carpenter, and declined to compromise
himself ashore.
His quick eye and prompt acts indicated his fitness for a ship's
officer. He first saw and gave warning, unheeded, of a ledge of rocks on
which the _Discovery_ grounded. Again in a crisis, by watchful care and
quick action, he saved the ship's cable by cutting it when the main
anchor was lost. But in critical matters he stood fast by the choleric
Hudson, who recognized his merit and fidelity by making him mate when
obliged to make a change. This caused feeling, as Prickett records. "For
that the master (Hudson) loved him and made him mate, whereat they (the
crew) did grudge, because he could neither read nor write."
Even in the last extremity Staffe kept his head, exerted his personal
influence with the mutineers for the good of the eight men who were to
be cast adrift with the master. Declining the proferred chance of
personal safety, he asked the mutineers to give means of prolonging life
in the wild. He thus secured his tools, pikes, a pot, some meal, a
musket with powder and shot. Then he quietly went down into the boat.
Wilson, a mutineer, testified that "Philip Staffe might have staid still
in the ship, but he would voluntarily go into the shallop for love of
the master (Hudson)."
Rather than cast in his life with mutineers, thus insuring present
comfort with prolonged life, this plain, illiterate English sailor stood
fast by his commander, and faced a lingering death while caring for his
sick and helpless comrades in a desolate, far-off land. Death with
unstained honor among his distressed shipmates was to Philip Staffe
preferable to a life of shame and dishonor among the mutineers of the
_Discovery_. Surely he belongs to those described by the Bishop of
Exeter:
"Men who trample self beneath them,
Men who make their country wreathe them."
The heroic loyalty of Philip Staffe was fittingly embalmed in quaint
historic prose by the incomparable English chronicler of the principal
voyages of famous navigators. Purchas, in "His Pilgrimage," relates:
"But see what sincerity can do in the most desperate trials. One Philip
Staffe, an Ipswich man, who, according to his name, had been a principal
staff and stay to the weaker and more enfeebled courages of his
companions in the whole action, lightening and unlightening their
drooping darkened spirits, with sparks from his own resolution; their
best purveyor, with his piece on shore, and both a skilful carpenter and
lusty mariner on board; when he could by no persuasions, seasoned with
tears, divert them from their devilish designs, notwithstanding they
entreated him to stay with them, yet chose rather to commit himself to
God's mercy in the forlorn shallop than with such villains to accept of
likelier hopes."
The mutineers, having deposed and marooned the great navigator Hudson,
looked forward to a homeward voyage of plenty and of comfort. But under
the rash and untrained directions of Henry Greene, William Wilson, and
Robert Juet, the wretched, luckless seamen were in turn harried by
hostile savages and distressed by deadly famine.
Prickett relates that a party landed near Cape Diggs, at the mouth of
Hudson Strait, to barter with the natives for provisions, and adds: "I
cast up my head, and saw a savage with a knife in his hands, who stroke
at my breast over my head: I cast up my right arm to save my breast, he
wounded my arm and stroke me in the body under the right pap. He stroke
a second blow, which I met with my left hand, and then he stroke me in
the right thigh, and had like to cut off my little finger of the left
hand. I sought for somewhat wherewith to strike him (not remembering my
dagger at my side), but looking down I saw it, and therewith stroke him
into the body and the throat.
"Whiles I was thus assaulted in the boat, our men were set upon on the
shore. John Thomas and William Wilson had their bowels cut, and Michael
Perse and Henry Greene, being mortally wounded, came tumbling into the
boat together....
"The savages betook them to their bows and arrows, which they sent
amongst us, wherewith Henry Greene was slain outright, and Michael Perse
received many wounds, and so did the rest. In turning the boat I
received a cruel wound in my back with an arrow. But there died there
that day William Wilson, swearing and cursing in most fearful manner.
Michael Perse lived two days and then died."
Of their final sufferings Prickett records: "Towards Ireland we now
stood, with prosperous winds for many days together. Then was all our
meal spent, and our fowl [birds from Hudson Bay] restie [rusty?] and
dry; but, being no remedy, we were content with salt broth for dinner
and the half-fowl for supper. Now went our candles to wrack, and Bennet,
our cook, made a mess of meat of the bones of the fowl, frying them with
candle grease. Our vinegar was shared, and to every man a pound of
candles delivered for a week, as a great dainty....
"Our men became so faint that they could not stand at the helm, but were
fain to sit. Then Robert Juet died for mere want, and all our men were
in despair, ... and our last fowl were in the steep tub.... Now in this
extremity it pleased God to give us sight of land."
As to Hudson, with loyal Staffe and their sick comrades, the record
runs: "They stood out of the ice, the shallop being fast to the stern,
and so they cut her head fast.... We saw not the shallop, or ever
after." Thus perished Henry Hudson, the man who laid the foundations of
the metropolis of the western hemisphere, who indirectly enriched the
world by hundreds of millions of dollars by giving to it the fisheries
of Spitzbergen and the fur trade of Hudson Bay. To the day of his death
he followed the noble rule of life set forth in his own words: "To
achieve what they have undertaken, or else to give reason wherefore it
will not be." In geography and in navigation, in history and in romance,
his name and his deeds stand forever recorded.
In the Homeric centuries Hudson might well have been deified, and even
in this age he has become in a manner mythological among the sea-rovers
as graphically depicted by Kipling:
"And North amid the hummocks,
A biscuit-toss below,
We met the fearful shallop
That frighted whalers know:
For down a cruel ice-lane,
That opened as he sped,
We saw dead Henry Hudson
Steer North by West his dead."
FRANKLIN'S CROSSING OF THE BARREN GROUNDS
"One who never turned his back,
But marched breast forward,
Never doubted clouds would break."
--BROWNING.
Strange as it may now seem, a century since the entire northern coasts
of North America were wholly unknown, save at two isolated and widely
separated points--the mouth of the Coppermine and the delta of the
Mackenzie. The mouth of the Coppermine was a seriously doubted
geographical point, as Hearne's discovery thereof in 1771 was made
without astronomical observations; though he did reach the sea we now
know that he placed the mouth of the Coppermine nearly two hundred and
fifty miles too far to the north. Mackenzie's journey to the delta of
the great river that bears his name was accepted as accurate.
In the renewed efforts of Great Britain to discover the northwest
passage and outline the continental coasts of North America, it was
deemed important to supplement the efforts being made by Parry at sea
with a land expedition. For this purpose it selected neither a civilian
nor a soldier, but a sailor known to the world in history as a famous
arctic explorer--Sir John Franklin--who was to attain enduring fame at
the price of his life.
Franklin had served as signal officer with Nelson at Trafalgar, was
wounded while engaged under Packenham at the battle of New Orleans, and
had commanded an arctic ship under Buchan in the Spitzbergen seas. The
vicissitudes of Franklin and his companions while on exploring duty in
Canada, especially while crossing the barren grounds, are told in this
tale.
[Illustration: Barren Grounds of Northwestern Canada.]
A dangerous voyage by ship through Hudson Straits brought Franklin and
his companions, Dr. Richardson, Midshipmen Hood and Back, and Seaman
Hepburn to York Factory, Hudson Bay, at the end of August, 1819.
Contrary to the advice of the local agents, he started northward, and
after a hazardous journey in the opening winter--involving a trip of
seven hundred miles of marches, canoeing, and portages--reached
Cumberland House.
With unreasonable ambition this indomitable man of iron pushed northward
in mid-winter with Back and Hepburn, on a journey to Fort Chipewyan,
Athabasca Lake, of eight hundred and fifty-seven miles, during which the
whole party barely failed of destruction. While dogs hauled the food and
camp gear, the men travelling on snow-shoes were pushed to keep up with
the dogs. Being _mangeurs de lard_ (novices or tenderfeet), they
suffered intolerable pain in their swollen feet, besides suffering
horribly from the blizzards and extreme cold, the temperature at times
failing to ninety degrees below the freezing-point.
The sledges were of the Hudson Bay pattern, differing from those used
elsewhere. They are made of two or three boards, the front curving
upward, fastened by transverse cleats above. They are so thin that a
heavily laden sledge undulates with the irregularities of the snow. Less
than two feet wide as a rule, they are about nine feet long, and have
around the edges a lacing by which the load is secured.
By a journey of fifteen hundred and twenty miles Franklin verified
Hearne's discovery of the Coppermine, though finding its latitude and
longitude very far out, and later he built and wintered at Fort
Enterprise. It is interesting to note that the only complaint that he
makes of his summer journey were the insect pests--the bull-dog fly that
carries off a bit of flesh at each attack, the irritating sand-fly, and
the mosquito. Of the latter he says: "They swarmed under our blankets,
goring us with their envenomed trunks and steeping our clothes in blood.
The wound is infinitely painful, and when multiplied an hundred-fold for
many successive days becomes an evil of such magnitude that cold,
famine, and every other concomitant of an inhospitable climate must
yield pre-eminence to it. The mosquito, irritating to madness, drives
the buffalo to the plains and the reindeer to the sea-shore."
In the summer of 1821 Franklin descended the Coppermine River, and in a
canoe voyage of five hundred and fifty miles to the eastward discovered
the waters and bordering lands of Bathurst Inlet, Coronation Gulf, and
as far as Dease Inlet. The very day that he was forced by failing food
to turn back, Captain Parry, R.N., in the _Fury_, sailed out of Repulse
Bay five hundred and forty miles to the east.
With the utmost reluctance Franklin saw the necessity for a speedy
return. It was now the 22d of August, the nights were fast lengthening,
the deer were already migrating, and the air was full of honking wild
geese flying in long lines to the south. Both canoes were badly damaged,
one having fifteen timbers broken. The other was so racked and warped
that repairs were impracticable, the birch bark being in danger of
separating from the gunwales at any severe shock.
One man had frozen his thighs, and the others, shaken in mind and worn
in body, unaccustomed to the sea, were in such a demoralized state that
two of them threw away deer meat, sadly needed, to lighten the boats.
Sudden cold set in with snow, a fierce blizzard blew up a high sea, and
the inland pools froze over. Return by sea was clearly impossible, and
the only chance of saving their lives was to ascend Hood River and reach
Fort Enterprise by a land journey across the barren grounds, so dreaded
and avoided by the Indians and the Eskimos.
With the subsiding gale they put to sea along the coast, and in three
days entered Hood River, though at times with utmost difficulty escaping
foundering, as says Franklin: "The waves were so high that the masthead
of our canoe was often hid from the other, though it was sailing within
hail."
Once landed on the river bank, the mercurial voyageurs, unmindful of the
difficult and dangerous march before them, were in most joyful mood.
They spent a gay evening before a large camp-fire, bursting into song,
reciting the novel perils of the sea now past, and exaggerating with
quaint humor every little incident.
With the vigor of famishing men they scoured the country for game, and
nets were skilfully set under cascade falls, which yielded the first
morning a dozen trout and white-fish. On these they made a delicious
meal, seasoned by abundant berries, for in this country there remain on
the bushes throughout the winter cranberries and red whortleberries.
The voyageurs were quite worn out poling their boats up the rapids of
Hood River. At times it was even needful to take out the loads and,
wading knee-deep in the ice-cold waters, drag the boats across the many
shoals. One day Franklin was dismayed, though the men were quite
indifferent, at coming to impassable rapids. They proved to be the lower
section of a series of wonderful cascades which could be passed neither
by traversing nor by portage. For the distance of a mile the river was
enclosed by solid, perpendicular walls of sandstone, shutting the stream
into a canyon that was in places only a few yards wide. In this single
mile the stream fell two hundred and fifty feet, forming two high falls
and a number of successive rapids. A survey of the upper river proved
its unnavigability even had a portage been possible. The crossing of the
barren grounds was thus lengthened far beyond Franklin's expectations.
Franklin, meantime, determining by astronomical observations the
location of his camp on Hood River, informed the men that they were only
one hundred and fifty miles from Point Lake, which was opposite Fort
Enterprise, their starting-point the previous spring. The voyageurs
received this news with great joy, thinking it to be a short journey, as
they had had no experience with the barren region. Franklin was not so
cheerful, as accounts of the desolation from various sources had made
him alive to the certain hardships and possible dangers of the march. He
decided to omit no precaution that would relieve or obviate the
hardships.
Besides the five Englishmen, there were fifteen voyageurs, of whom two
were Eskimo hunters, two interpreters, an Italian, an Iroquois Indian,
and nine Canadian half-breeds. All were men inured to hard service and
familiar with frontier life.
The large boats were taken apart, and from this material were built two
small portable canoes which were fit to carry three men across any
stream that might be discovered in this trackless and unexplored desert.
Such books, clothing, supplies, and equipment as were not absolutely
necessary for the journey were cached so as to reduce the loads to be
carried in the men's packs. The tanned skins that had been brought along
for the purpose of replacing worn-out moccasins were equally divided,
and strong extra foot-gear was made up with great care. Each one was
given two pairs of flannel socks and other warm clothing, for freezing
weather had come to stay. One tent was taken for the men and another for
the officers.
On the last day of August the party started in Indian file, each man
carrying ninety pounds, and the officers according to their strength.
The luggage consisted of their little stock of pemmican, tents,
ammunition, fishing-nets, hatchets, instruments, extra clothing,
sleeping and cooking gear. Each officer had a gun, his field journals,
instruments, etc., and two men were told off daily to carry the
cumbersome and hated canoe. They were so heavily laden that they made
only a mile an hour, including frequent rests. The voyageurs complained
from the first at taking two canoes, and were but half convinced when
the raging Hood River was speedily crossed by lashing the two canoes
together.
Their important vegetable food, berries, failed a few miles from the
river, and as very little game was seen they were obliged to eat the
last of their pemmican on September 4. As a blizzard sprang up the next
morning, the party was storm-bound for two days--passed without food or
fire, their usual fuel, moss, failing, as it was covered with snow and
ice. The temperature fell to twenty degrees and the wet tents and damp
blankets were frozen in solid masses. On breaking camp Franklin fainted
from exhaustion, cold, and hunger. Dr. Richardson revived him, against
his protest, with a bit of portable soup which, with a little arrow-root
for sickness, was the only remaining food.
The snow was now a foot deep and travel lay across swamps where the new,
thin ice constantly broke, plunging the wretched men up to their knees
in ice-cold water. To add to their misfortunes, Benoit, to Franklin's
distress, fell and broke the larger of the canoes into pieces; worst of
all, he was suspected of doing so maliciously, having threatened to
destroy the canoe whenever it should be his turn to carry it. Franklin
chose to ignore this mutinous conduct and resourcefully utilized the
accident. Halting the march and causing a fire to be made of the birch
bark and the timbers, he ordered the men to cook and distribute the last
of the portable soup and the arrow-root. Though a scanty meal, it
cheered them all up, being the first food after three days of fasting.
After a march of two days along the river bank, they struck across the
barren grounds, taking a direct compass course for Point Lake. The
country was already covered with snow and high winds also impeded their
progress. In many places the ground was found to have on its surface
numberless small, rolling stones, which often caused the heavily
burdened voyageurs to stumble and fall, so that much damage was done to
loads, especially to the frail canoe. As the only foot-gear consisted of
moccasins made of soft, pliant moose-skin, the men soon suffered great
pain from frequent stone-bruises, which delayed the march as the
cripples could only limp along.
The barren grounds soon justified their name, for, though an occasional
animal was seen and killed, the men more often went hungry. The deep
snow and the level country obliged Franklin to adopt special methods to
avoid wandering from the direct compass route, and the party travelled
in single file, Indian fashion. The voyageurs took turns breaking the
path through the snow, and to this leader was indicated a distant object
toward which he travelled as directly as possible. Midshipman Hood
followed far enough in the rear to be able to correct the course of the
trail-breaker, to whom were pointed out from time to time new objects.
This method of travel was followed during the whole journey, meeting
with great success.
In time they reached a hilly region, most barren to the eye but where
most fortunately were found on the large rocks edible lichens of the
genus _gyrophora_, which were locally known to the voyageurs as _tripe
de roche_ (rock-tripe). Ten partridges had been shot during the day's
march, half a bird to a man, and with the abundant lichens a palatable
mess was made over a fire of bits of the arctic willow dug up from
beneath the snow. Franklin that night, which was unusually cold, adopted
the plan, now common among arctic sledgemen, of sleeping with his wet
socks and moccasins under him, thus by the heat of the body drying them
in part, and above all preventing them from freezing hard.
Coming to a rapid-flowing river, they were obliged to follow it up to
find a possible crossing. They were fortunate to find a grove of small
willows, which enabled them to make a fire and thus apply gum to the
very much damaged canoe. Though the operation was a very ticklish one,
three of the voyageurs under Saint Germain, the interpreter, managed the
canoe with such dexterity as to ferry over one passenger at a time,
causing him to lie flat in the canoe, a most uncomfortable situation
owing to the cold water that steadily seeped into the boat.
Starvation meals on an occasional grouse, with the usual _tripe de
roche_, caused great rejoicing when, after long stalking, the hunters
killed a musk-cow. The ravenous condition of the voyageurs was evident
from Franklin's statement that "the contents of its stomach were
devoured on the spot and the raw intestines, which were next attacked,
were pronounced by the most delicate of us to be excellent. This was the
sixth day since we had had a good meal; the _tripe de roche_, even when
we got enough, only served to allay hunger a short time."
Suffering continual privations from hunger, they reached Rum Lake, where
the supper for twenty men was a single partridge with some excellent
berries. There was still _tripe de roche_ to be had, but "this
unpalatable weed was now quite nauseous to the whole party, and in
several cases it produced bowel complaints."
Franklin considered that the safety of the men could now be insured
through the lake fishing, as most of the voyageurs were experts with the
net from having long lived at points where they depended on fish for
their food. His consternation almost gave way to despair when he
discovered the fatal improvidence of the voyageurs, who, to lessen their
burdens by a few pounds, had thrown away the fishing-nets and burned the
floats. "They knew [says Franklin] we had brought them to procure
subsistence for the party, when the animals should fail, and we could
scarcely believe the fact of their having deprived themselves of this
resource," which eventually caused the death of the majority of the
party.
Franklin at once lightened the loads of his sadly weakened men by
abandoning everything save astronomical instruments, without which he
could not determine correctly their route. Under these disheartening
circumstances, the captain's heart was cheered beyond measure by an act
of heroic generosity on the part of one of his starving men. As they
were starting on the march Perrault came forward and gave to each
officer a bit of meat that he had saved from his own allowance. Franklin
says: "It was received with great thankfulness, and such an act of
self-denial and kindness, being entirely unexpected in a Canadian
voyageur, filled our eyes with tears."
A short time after, Credit, one of the hunters, came in with the
grateful news that he had killed a deer.
The same day there was a striking display of courage, skill, and
endurance on the part of one of the men indicative of the mettle of
these uncultured voyageurs. In crossing a river the first boat-load
consisted of Saint Germain, Solomon Belanger, and Franklin. Driven by a
strong current to the edge of a dangerous rapid, Belanger lost his
balance and upset the canoe in the rapid. All held fast to the frail
craft and were carried to a point where they touched a rock and gained
their footing, although up to their waists in the stream. Emptying the
canoe of water, Belanger held the boat steady whilst Saint Germain
placed Franklin in it and embarked himself in a dexterous manner. As it
was impossible to get Belanger in the boat, they started down the river
and after another submersion reached the opposite shore.
Belanger's position was one of extreme danger and his sufferings were
extreme. He was immersed to his waist in water near the freezing-point,
and, worse yet, his upper body, clothed with wet garments, was exposed
to a high wind of a temperature not much above zero. Two voyageurs tried
vainly in turn to reach him with the canoe, but the current was too
strong. A quick-witted voyageur caused the slings to be stripped from
the men's packs and sent out the line toward Belanger, but just as he
was about to catch it the line broke and the slings were carried away.
Fortunately there was at hand a small, strong cord attached to a
fishing-net. When Belanger's strength was about gone the canoe reached
him with this cord and he was dragged quite senseless to the shore. Dr.
Richardson had him stripped instantly, wrapped him up in dry blankets,
and two men taking off their clothes aided by their bodily heat in
bringing the sufferer to consciousness an hour or so later.
Meantime the distracted Franklin was watching this desperate struggle
from the farther bank, where with drenched and freezing clothes he was
without musket, blankets, hatchet, or any means of making a fire. If
this betossed canoe was lost the intrepid commander and all the men
would have perished. It is to be noted, as characteristic of the man,
that in his journal Franklin makes no mention of his sufferings, but
dwells on his anxiety for the safety of Belanger, while deploring also
the loss of his field journal and the scientific records.
The loss of all their pack-slings in rescuing Belanger somewhat delayed
their march, but with the skill and resourcefulness gained by life in
the wilds, the voyageurs made quite serviceable substitute slings from
their clothing and sleeping-gear.
Conditions grew harder from day to day, and soon the only endurable
situation was on the march, for then they were at least warm. The usual
joy of the trapper's life was gone--the evening camp with its hours of
quiet rest, its blazing fire, the full pipe, the good meal, and the
tales of personal prowess or adventure. Now, with either no supper or a
scanty bit of food, the camp was a place of gloom and discomfort. Of the
routine Franklin writes: "The first operation after camping was to thaw
out our frozen shoes, if a fire could be made, and put on dry ones. Each
wrote his daily notes and evening prayers were read. Supper if any was
eaten generally in the dark. Then to bed, where a cheerful conversation
was kept up until our blankets were thawed by the heat of our bodies and
we were warm enough to go to sleep. Many nights there was not enough
fire to dry our shoes; we durst not venture to pull them off lest they
should freeze so hard as to be unfit to put on in the morning."
Game so utterly failed that the hunters rarely brought in anything but a
partridge. Often they were days without food, and at times, faint and
exhausted, the men could scarcely stagger through the deep snow.
Midshipman Hood became so weak that Dr. Richardson had to replace him as
the second man in the marching file, who kept the path-breaking leader
straight on the compass course. The voyageurs were in such a state of
frenzy that they would have thrown away their packs and deserted
Franklin, but they were unable to decide on a course that would insure
their safe arrival at Fort Enterprise.
Now and then there were gleams of encouragement--a deer or a few
ptarmigan; and once they thought they had a treasure-trove in a large
plot of iceland moss. Though nutritious when boiled, it was so acrid and
bitter that only a few could eat more than a mouthful or two.
After six days of cloudy weather, Franklin got the sun and found by
observation that he was six miles south of the place where he was to
strike Point Lake, the error being due to their ignorance of the local
deviation of the compass by which they had laid out their route. When
the course was changed the suspicious voyageurs thought that they were
lost, and gave little credit to Franklin's assurances that they were
within sixty miles of Fort Enterprise. Dr. Richardson was now so weak
that he had to abandon his beloved plants and precious mineral
specimens.
Their misfortunes culminated when the remaining canoe was badly broken,
and the men, despite entreaties and commands, refused to carry it
farther. Franklin says: "My anguish was beyond my power to describe it.
The men seemed to have lost all hope, and all arguments failed to
stimulate them to the least exertion."
When Lieutenant Back and the Eskimo hunters started ahead to search for
game, the Canadians burst into a rage, alleged an intended desertion,
threw down their packs, and announced that it was now to be every one
for himself. Partly by entreaties and partly by threats, for the
officers were all armed (and in view of the fact that Franklin sent the
fleetest runner of the party to recall the hunters), the voyageurs
finally consented to hold together as a party.
Death by starvation appeared inevitable, but with his commanding
presence and heroic courage the captain was able to instil into the men
some of his own spirit of hope and effort. As they were now on the
summer pasturage grounds of large game, they were fortunate enough to
find here and there scattered horns and bones of reindeer--refuse
abandoned even by the wolves. These were eagerly gathered up, and after
being made friable by fire were ravenously devoured to prolong life, as
were scraps of leather and the remnants of their worn-out moose-skin
moccasins.
September 26 brought them, in the last stages of life, to the banks of
the Coppermine, within forty miles of their destination. The misguided
voyageurs then declared themselves safe, as for once they were warm and
full of food, for the hunters had killed five deer and they came across
a willow grove which gave them a glorious camp-fire. But the seeds of
disloyalty and selfishness now blossomed into demoralization. After
gorging on their own meat two of the voyageurs stole part of the meat
set aside for the officers.
The question of crossing the Coppermine, a broad stream full of rapids,
was now one of life or death. With remorse nearly bordering on
desperation, the Canadians now saw that the despised and abandoned canoe
was their real ark of safety. Following the banks for miles, no ford
could be found despite the closest search. Franklin fixed on two plans
for crossing, either by a raft of willows, which grew in quantities
near by, or by a canvas boat to be made by stretching over a willow
framework parts of tents still in hand. The voyageurs arrogantly scouted
both expedients, but after wasting three precious days wrangling they
built a willow raft. When done its buoyancy was so slight that only one
man could be supported by it. It was thought, however, that a crossing
could be made by getting a line across the river by which the raft could
be pulled to and fro. As an incitement to exertion, Franklin offered to
the voyageur who should take a line across the sum of three hundred
livres (sixty dollars), a large amount for any of these men. Two of the
strongest men failed in their efforts to work the raft across, the
stream being rapid and one hundred and thirty yards across. The single
paddle, brought by Richardson all these weary miles from the sea-shore,
was too feeble, and two tent-poles lashed together were not long enough
to reach bottom a short distance from the shore. Repeated failures
demoralized the voyageurs, who cried out with common accord that they
were lost.
Dr. Richardson now felt that the time had come to venture his life for
the safety of the party, and so offered to swim across the Coppermine
with a line by which the raft could be hauled over. As he stripped his
gaunt frame looked rather like a skeleton than a living man. At the
sight the Canadians all cried out at once, "Ah! que nous sommes
maigres!" ("Oh! how thin we are!"). As the doctor was entering the
river he stepped on a dagger which had been carelessly left on the
ground. It cut him to the bone, but he did not draw back for a second.
Pain was nothing to the lives of his comrades.
With the line fastened around his waist, he plunged into the stream.
Before he reached the middle of the river his arms were so benumbed by
the cold water, which was only six degrees above the freezing-point,
that he could no longer use them in swimming. Some of the men cried out
that he was gone, but the doctor was not at the end of his resources,
and turning on his back he swam on in that way. His comrades watched him
with renewed anxiety. Could he succeed or must he fail? Were they to be
saved or not? The swimmer's progress became slower and slower, but still
he moved on. When almost within reaching distance of the other bank his
legs failed also, and to the intense alarm of the Canadians he sank. The
voyageurs instantly hauled on the line, which brought him to the
surface, and he was drawn to the shore in an unconscious and almost
lifeless condition. He was rubbed dry, his limbs chafed, and, still
unconscious, was rolled up in blankets and placed before a very hot
fire. In their zeal the men nearly caused the death of the doctor, for
he was put so near the fire that the intense heat scorched his left side
so badly that it remained deprived of most sensation for several months.
Fortunately he regained consciousness in time to give some slight
directions about his proper treatment.
Apart from the failure of Richardson to cross the river, the spirits of
the party were more cast down by the loss of Junius, the best hunter of
the party. Taking the field as usual, the Eskimo failed to return, and
no traces could be found of him.
As a final resort they adopted a plan first advanced by Franklin, and
the ingenious interpreter, Saint Germain, offered to make a canvas boat
by stretching across a willow framework the painted, water-proof canvas
in which the bedding was wrapped. Meanwhile the general body of the
voyageurs was in such depths of indifference that they even preferred to
go without food rather than to make the least exertion, and they refused
to pick the _tripe de roche_ on which the party now existed. Franklin
records that "the sense of hunger was no longer felt by any of us, yet
we were scarcely able to converse on any other subject than the
pleasures of eating."
Finally the canoe was finished on October 4, and, proving water-tight,
the whole party was ferried safely across, one at a time. The week lost
by ignoring Franklin's orders proved the destruction of the party as a
whole.
This was not the view of the voyageurs, who were now as joyful that they
were within forty miles of the station as they had been downcast the day
before crossing, when one of them stole a partridge given Hood, whose
stomach refused the lichens. Of this mercurial change Franklin says:
"Their spirits immediately revived, each shook the officers by the hand,
declared the worst of their difficulties over, and did not doubt
reaching Fort Enterprise in a few days."
Franklin at once sent Back with three men ahead for assistance from Fort
Enterprise, as previous arrangements had been made with a Hudson Bay
agent to supply the station with provisions and to have Indians there as
hunters.
The rear guard following slowly found no food save lichens, and so began
to eat their shoes and bits of their bedding robes. On the third march
two voyageurs fell exhausted on the trail, and despite the encouraging
efforts of their comrades thus perished. To give aid to the failing men,
to relieve the packs from the weight of the tent, and to enable Franklin
to go ahead unencumbered by the weakest, Dr. Richardson asked that he be
left with Hood and Hepburn at such place as fuel and _tripe de roche_
were plentiful, which was done, relief to be sent to them from the
station as soon as possible. Of this Franklin says: "Distressed beyond
description at leaving them in such a dangerous situation, I long
combated their proposal, and reluctantly acceded when they strenuously
urged that this step afforded the only chance of safety for the party.
After we had united in thanksgiving and prayers to Almighty God, I
separated from my companions deeply afflicted. Dr. Richardson was
influenced in his resolution to remain by the desire which influenced
his character of devoting himself to the succor of the weak and Hepburn
by the zealous attachment toward his officers."
The nine other voyageurs given their choice went forward with Franklin,
but Michel Teroahaute, the Iroquois Indian, and two Canadians returned
next day to Richardson's camp.
On his arrival at Fort Enterprise on October 14, Franklin for the first
time lost heart, the station being unprovisioned and desolate. A note
from the indefatigable Back told that he was seeking aid from roving
Indians or at the nearest Hudson Bay post.
Franklin says: "It would be impossible to describe our sensations after
discovering how we had been neglected. The whole party shed tears, not
for our own fate, but for that of our friends in the rear, whose lives
depended entirely on our sending immediate relief."