CHAPTER XIV.

MIDWINTER.--THE NIGHT OF MONTHS.--BRILLIANCY OF THE

MOONLIGHT.--MILD TEMPERATURES.--REMARKABLE WEATHER.--A

SHOWER.--DEPTH OF SNOW.--SNOW CRYSTALS.--AN EPIDEMIC AMONG THE

DOGS.--SYMPTOMS OF THE DISORDER.--GREAT MORTALITY.--ONLY ONE

TEAM LEFT.--NEW PLANS.--SCHEMES FOR REACHING THE ESQUIMAUX IN

WHALE SOUND.

The reader who has followed my diary since we entered Port Foulke will

have noticed how gradually the daylight vanished, and with what slow

and measured step the darkness came upon us. As November approached its

close, the last glimmer of twilight disappeared. The stars shone at all

hours with equal brilliancy. From a summer which had no night we had

passed into a winter which had no day, through an autumn twilight. In

this strange ordering of Nature there is something awe-inspiring and

unreal.

We all knew from our school-boy days that, at the poles of the earth

there is but one day and one night in the year; but, when brought face

to face with the reality, it is hard to realize. And it is harder still

to get used to. If the constant sunshine of the summer disturbed our

life-long habits, the continual darkness of the winter did more. In

the one case the imagination was excited by the ever-present light,

inspiring action; in the other, a night of months threw a cloud over

the intellect and dwarfed the energies.

To this prolonged darkness the moon gives some relief. From its rising

to its setting it shines continually, circling around the horizon,

never setting until it has run its ten days' course of brightness. And

it shines with a brilliancy which one will hardly observe elsewhere.

The uniform whiteness of the landscape and the general clearness of

the atmosphere add to the illumination of its rays, and one may see

to read by its light with ease, and the natives often use it as they

do the sun, to guide their nomadic life and to lead them to their

hunting-grounds.

[Sidenote: MIDWINTER.]

The days and weeks of midwinter passed slowly away. Our experience up

to this period was in many respects remarkable. Although sheltered by

high lands, we were nevertheless exposed to severe and almost constant

northeast winds; and although shut up in polar darkness, and hemmed in

by polar ice, an open sea had thus far been within sight of us all the

time, and the angry waves were often a threatening terror. Many times

we had thought ourselves in danger of being cast adrift with the ice,

and carried out to sea in a helpless condition.

The temperature had been strangely mild, a circumstance at least in

part accounted for by the open water, and to this same cause was no

doubt due the great disturbance of the air, and the frequency of the

gales. I have mentioned in the last chapter a very remarkable rise in

the thermometer which occurred early in November; but a still greater

elevation of temperature followed a few weeks later, reaching as high

as 32°, and sinking back to 15° below zero almost as suddenly as it

had risen. In consequence of this extraordinary and unaccountable

event, the thaw was renewed, and our former discomfort arising from

the dampness on the deck and in our quarters was experienced in an

aggravated degree. During two days (November 28th and 29th) we could

use no other fire than what was necessary for the preparation of our

meals, and for melting our necessary supply of water. To add to our

astonishment, a heavy fall of snow was followed by a shower of rain,

a circumstance which I had not previously witnessed in this latitude

except in the months of July and August, and then scarcely more rain

fell than on the present occasion. The depth of snow precipitated

during this period was likewise remarkable,--the aggregate being 32

inches. In one single day 19 inches were deposited, greater by 5

inches than the entire accumulations of the winter of 1853-54 at Van

Rensselaer Harbor. The total amount of snow which had fallen up to

the first of December was 48 inches. Being so far north of the line

of maximum snows, I was the more surprised, as my former experience

appeared to have shown that the region of Smith's Sound was almost

wholly free from nubilous deposits.

[Sidenote: SNOW CRYSTALS.]

I was much interested at this warm period in observing how singularly

perfect and beautiful were the snow crystals; and it is a somewhat

singular circumstance that the perfect crystals are only exhibited when

the snow falls in a temperature comparatively mild. I have not observed

them when the thermometer ranged below zero. The snow is then quite dry

and hard, and does not exhibit those soft, thin, transparent flakes of

the warmer air. With the aid of a magnifying glass, I was enabled to

obtain very accurate sketches of a large number of them. Their form was

always hexagonal, but the rays were very various in their development,

although they all possessed the same radical foundation. The most

perfect and full suggested a diminutive fern leaf.

* * * * *

As we neared the climax of the winter the satisfactory progress of

events became disturbed by a series of misfortunes which largely

influenced the destinies of the expedition, and which, by disarranging

all of my plans, caused me grave embarrassments.

[Sidenote: AN EPIDEMIC AMONG THE DOGS.]

In a former chapter I have mentioned that a disease had been, for

several years, prevailing among the dogs of Southern Greenland, and

that a large proportion of these useful animals had fallen victims to

it. The cause of this disease had not been determined, but I was led

to believe, from what information I could obtain, that it was purely

of local origin, and that, therefore, when I had removed my teams from

the seat of its influence I would be freed from its dangers. Under this

impression I had consumed much time at the Danish-Esquimau settlements,

in picking up here and there a dog, until I had obtained thirty-six

animals. Up to the first of December they remained in perfect health;

and, being fed upon an abundant allowance of fresh meat, I had great

confidence that I should be able to carry them through to the spring,

and, when the period of my sledge explorations should arrive, that

I would have four strong and serviceable teams. My fears were for a

time somewhat excited by the information received from Hans, that the

Esquimaux of Whale Sound and vicinity, with whom he had been living,

were heavy losers by the death of a great number of their dogs, and

the description which he gave of this distemper corresponded with that

of Southern Greenland; but November being passed without any symptoms

of the malady having made its appearance in my splendid pack, I felt

hopeful that they would escape the visitation. The loss which Dr. Kane

had suffered by the death of his teams was fresh in my recollection;

but for this there appeared to be a sufficient cause. Being almost

wholly without fresh food of any kind, he was compelled to subsist his

teams upon salt meats, which, giving scurvy to his men, could hardly

be expected to act otherwise than injuriously upon the dogs, which had

always before been used to a fresh diet of seal meat.

My hopeful anticipations were, however, not realized. One day early

in December Jensen reported to me that one of the finest animals had

been attacked with the disease, and recommended that it should be

shot, to prevent the disease spreading; and this was accordingly done.

A few hours afterwards another one was seized in the same manner.

The symptoms were at first those of great restlessness. The animal

ran several times around the ship, first one way and then the other,

with a vague uncertainty in its gait, and with an alternate raising

and lowering of the head and tail, every movement indicative of great

nervous excitement. After a while it started off toward the mouth of

the harbor, barking all the while and seeming to be in mortal dread

of some imaginary object from which it was endeavoring to fly. In

a little while it came back, still more excited than before. These

symptoms rapidly increased in violence, the eyes became bloodshot,

froth ran from the mouth, and the dog became possessed of an apparently

uncontrollable desire to snap at every thing which came in its way.

The disease ran its course in a few hours. Weakness and prostration

followed the excitement, and the poor animal staggered around the

vessel, apparently unable to see its way, and finally fell over in a

fit. After struggling for a little while in the snow, consciousness

returned, and it got again upon its feet. Another fit followed soon

afterward; and then they came one after another in rapid succession,

until finally its misery was relieved by death, which occurred in less

than twenty-four hours from the incipience of the attack. Meanwhile I

had watched it closely, hoping to discover some clew to the cause, and

to establish a cure. But I could obtain no light whatever. Dissection

revealed nothing. There was no apparent inflammation either of the

brain, the nerve centres, the spinal cord, or the nerves themselves;

and I was wholly at a loss to understand the strange phenomenon. That

it was not hydrophobia was shown by the fact that the animal rather

desired than shunned water. Many of the symptoms attending that disease

were, however, manifested; but it did not, like hydrophobia, appear to

be communicated by the bite; for those dogs which happened to be bitten

were not more speedily attacked than the others.

[Sidenote: GREAT MORTALITY OF DOGS.]

This case had scarcely reached its fatal termination before another

was reported, and it was relieved of its misery by a bullet. Seven

died during four days, and I saw with consternation my fine teams

melting away and my hopes endangered; and while this was in progress I

could only look on and wonder and experiment, but could never stop the

contagion nor arrest the evil.

Among the first dogs attacked was a superb beast that I have before

named. He was the best draught animal of my best team, the second

leader,--Karsuk. I have never seen such expression of ferocity and mad

strength exhibited by any living creature, as he manifested two hours

after the first symptoms were observed. Thinking that confinement might

do good, and desiring to see if the disease would not wear itself out,

I had him caught and put into a large box on the deck; but this seemed

rather to aggravate than to soothe the violence of the symptoms. He

tore the boards with indescribable fierceness, and, getting his teeth

into a crack, ripped off splinter after splinter until he had made a

hole almost large enough for his head, when I ordered him to be shot.

At this moment his eyes were like balls of fire; he had broken off one

of his tusks, and his mouth was spouting blood. Soon afterward another

fine animal, which seemed to be perfectly well a few moments before,

suddenly sprang up, dashed off with a wild yell, wheeled round the

harbor, returned to the vessel, and there fell struggling in a fit. I

had him tied, but he tore himself loose, and, fearful for the other

dogs, he too was killed. Three others died the same day, and the deaths

during the first two weeks of December were eighteen. This, with the

losses before sustained, left me with only twelve animals. One week

later these were reduced to nine.

[Sidenote: ONLY ONE TEAM LEFT.]

The serious nature of this disaster will perhaps not at first be

apparent to the reader. It will be remembered, however, that my plans

of exploration for the coming spring were mainly based upon dogs as a

means of transportation across the ice; and now that my teams were so

much reduced (and it seemed, indeed, likely that they would all die) it

became very evident that, unless I should be able to supply the loss,

all of my plans would be rendered abortive.

My anxiety was fully shared by Mr. Sonntag. Having failed in all of

our efforts to arrest the fatal tendency of the malady, we could only

occupy ourselves with devising ways and means for remedying, in some

degree, the evil, or to arrange new plans in conformity with our

changed circumstances.

[Sidenote: PLANS FOR OBTAINING DOGS.]

The first expedient which suggested itself was to open communication

with the Esquimaux of Whale Sound, and, in the event of this being

accomplished, it was fair to suppose that some animals might be

obtained from them. If we could succeed in bringing the tribe to the

vessel, we might readily accomplish our wish; for, during the period

that their dogs would be in our service, we could, if necessity

required it, furnish them all with food, either from our stores or from

the hunt.

Hans was consulted concerning the Esquimaux, and from him we learned

that there was a family living on Northumberland Island, several

families on the south side of Whale Sound, and possibly one or more

on the north side. Northumberland Island was about a hundred miles

distant as we would be obliged to travel in order to reach it, and the

south side of the Sound about one hundred and fifty. That we should

communicate with these people at the earliest practicable moment was

a matter of the first importance. If a sufficient number of the dogs

should remain alive when the moon came in December, it was arranged

that Sonntag should make the journey at that period, taking a single

sledge, and Hans for a driver. If the dogs should all die, then I

intended to go down on foot as soon as possible, and do my best to

bring all of the Esquimaux to Port Foulke and Etah, use their dogs

while we needed them, and feed and clothe the people in the interval.

Meanwhile, however, we could only wait through the mid-December

darkness, and hope that the month would end more auspiciously than it

had begun.

The Open Polar Sea A narrative of a voyage of discovery towards the North pole, in the schooner "United States" · 第 14 / 39 章