STARTING ON MY FIRST JOURNEY.--OBJECT OF THE JOURNEY.--A MISHAP.--A
FRESH START.--THE FIRST CAMP.--HARTSTENE'S CAIRN.--EXPLORING A
TRACK.--A NEW STYLE OF SNOW-HUT.--AN UNCOMFORTABLE NIGHT.--LOW
TEMPERATURE.--EFFECT OF TEMPERATURE ON THE SNOW.--AMONG THE
HUMMOCKS.--SIGHTING HUMBOLDT GLACIER.--THE TRACK IMPRACTICABLE
TO THE MAIN PARTY.--VAN RENSSELAER HARBOR.--FATE OF THE
ADVANCE.--A DRIVE IN A GALE.
On the 16th of March I found myself able for the first time to get
around Sunrise Point. Except during a brief interval, the temperature
had now fallen lower than at any previous period of the winter; and,
the air having been quite calm for two days, the ice had formed over
the outer bay. This long desired event was hailed with satisfaction,
and I determined to start north at once.
My preparations occupied but a few hours, as every thing had been ready
for weeks past. The charge of one of the sledges was given to Jensen,
the other to Kalutunah, the former having nine and the latter six dogs.
One of the dogs had died and another had been crippled in a fight, thus
leaving me only fifteen for service.
My object in this preliminary journey was chiefly to explore the track,
and determine whether it were best to adhere to the Greenland coast,
following up the route of Dr. Kane, or to strike directly across the
Sound from above Cape Hatherton, in the endeavor to reach, on Grinnell
Land, the point of departure for which I had striven, without success,
the previous autumn. It was evident that every thing depended upon
being now able to make good what I had lost by that failure, through a
chain of circumstances which I have no need to repeat, as the reader
will recall the struggle which resulted in the crippling of my vessel,
and which had nearly caused its total wreck among the ice-fields in the
mouth of the Sound. If the state of the ice should prove favorable to
a speedy crossing of the Sound to Grinnell Land, or even to securing,
without much delay, a convenient point of departure on the Greenland
side beyond Humboldt Glacier, I had little doubt as to the successful
termination of my summer labors.
[Sidenote: A MISHAP.]
Upon reaching Sunrise Point we found the ice to be very rough and
insecure, and the tide of the previous night had opened a wide crack
directly off the point, which it was necessary for us to cross. This
crack had been closed over but a few hours, and the dogs hesitated
a moment at its margin; but Jensen's whip reassured them, and they
plunged ahead. The ice bent under their weight, and, as if by a mutual
understanding, the team scattered, but not in time to save themselves,
for down they all sank, higgledy-piggledy, into the sea, dragging the
sledge after them. Being seated on the back part of it, I had time to
roll myself off, but Jensen was not so fortunate, and dogs, sledge,
driver and all were floundering together in a confused tangle among the
broken ice. Kalutunah, who was a few paces in the rear, coming up, we
extricated them from their cold bath. Jensen was pretty well soaked,
and his boots were filled with water. Being only five miles from the
schooner, I thought it safest to drive back as rapidly as possible
rather than construct a snow-hut to shelter my unlucky driver from the
cold wind which was beginning to blow. Besides, our buffalo-skins were
as wet as they could be, and we should have precious little comfort on
our journey if we did not return and exchange them for dry ones. The
dogs, too, ran great risk of injury by being allowed to rest in their
wet coats in so low a temperature. The whip was not spared, and the
vessel was reached without serious consequences either to Jensen or the
team. An hour or so sufficed for us to refit, when we started again;
and being this time more cautious, we got around the point without
further trouble.
The ice was found to be smooth and the traveling good as we moved up
the coast; and, not being very heavily laden, we got on at a good pace.
The snow had been packed very hard by the winds, and wherever there
had been hummocks it had collected between them, so that, although
the surface was somewhat rolling and uneven, yet it was as firm as a
country road. Darkness coming on, (we had not yet reached the constant
sunlight of summer,) we hauled in under Cape Hatherton and made our
first camp.
[Sidenote: THE FIRST CAMP.]
It was a real Arctic camp;--picketing the dogs and burrowing in a
snow-bank are very simple operations, and require but little time.
Jensen made the burrow, and Kalutunah looked after the animals; and
when all was ready we crawled in and tried our best to be comfortable
and to sleep; but the recollection of the ship's bunk was too recent
to render either practicable, except to Kalutunah, who did not seem
to mind any thing, and snored all through the night in a most awful
manner. The outside temperature was 40° below zero.
[Sidenote: HARTSTENE'S CAIRN.]
I was not sorry when we got under way again next morning, and we were
soon warmed up with the exercise. The same condition of ice continuing
after passing Cape Hatherton, we quickly reached the north horn of Fog
Inlet. Here, as we approached the point, I discovered a cairn perched
upon a conspicuous spot, and, not having remembered it as the work of
any of Dr. Kane's parties, I halted the sledges and went ashore to
inspect it. It proved to have been built by Captain Hartstene, while
searching for Dr. Kane, as shown by a record found in a glass vial at
its base. The record was as follows:--
"The U. S. Steamer _Arctic_ touched here and examined thoroughly
for traces of Dr. Kane and his associates, without finding any
thing more than a vial, with a small piece of cartridge-paper
with the letters 'O. K. Aug. 1853,' some matches, and a ship's
rifle-ball. We go from this unknown point to Cape Hatherton for a
search.
"H. J. Hartstene,
Lieut. Comdg. Arctic Expedition.
"8 P. M. August 16th, 1855.
"P. S. Should the U. S. bark _Release_ find this, she will
understand that we are bound for a search at Cape Hatherton.
"H. J. H."
I was much gratified with this discovery, for it brought to my mind the
recollection of the protecting care of our government, and a gallant
effort to rescue from the jaws of the Arctic ice a very forlorn party
of men. I was only sorry that the author of this hastily written
evidence of his spirited search had not reached Cape Hatherton some
time earlier, for then we should have been saved many a hard and weary
pull. The locality will hereafter be known as _Cairn Point_.
Climbing to an elevation, I had a good view of the sea over a radius of
several miles. The prospect was not encouraging. In every direction,
except immediately down the coast toward Cape Hatherton, the ice was
very rough, being jammed against the shore and piled up over the sea in
great ridges, which looked rather unpromising for sledges.
The view decided my course of action. Cairn Point would be my
starting-place if I crossed the Sound, and a most convenient position
for a depot of supplies in the event of being obliged to hold on up
the Greenland coast. Accordingly, I took from the sledges all of the
provisions except what was necessary for a six days' consumption, and
discovering a suitable cleft in a rock, deposited it therein, covering
it over with heavy stones, to protect it from the bears, intending to
proceed up the coast for a general inspection of the condition of the
ice on the Sound.
These various operations consumed the day; so we fed the dogs and dug
into another snow-bank, and got through another night after the fashion
of Arctic travelers, which is not much of a fashion to boast of. We
slept and did not freeze, and more than this we did not expect.
[Sidenote: EXPLORING A TRACK.]
The next day's journey was made with light sledges, but it was much
more tedious than the two days preceding; for the track was rough, and
during the greater part of the time it was as much as the dogs could
do to get through the hummocked ice with nothing on the sledge but our
little food and sleeping gear. As for riding, that was entirely out
of the question. After nine hours of this sort of work, during which
we made, lightened as we were, not over twenty miles, we were well
satisfied to draw up to the first convenient snow-bank for another
nightly burrow.
[Sidenote: A NEW STYLE OF SNOW-HUT.]
Being naturally inclined to innovation, I had busied my mind all
through the day, as I tumbled among the ice and the drifts, in devising
some better plan of hut than the cavern arrangement of the nomadic
Kalutunah. The snow-bank which I selected had a square side about
five feet high. Starting on the top of this, we dug a pit about six
feet long, four and a half wide, and four deep, leaving between the
pit and the square side of the bank a wall about two feet thick. Over
the top of this pit we placed one of the sledges, over the sledge the
canvas apron used, while traveling, to inclose the cargo, and over that
again we shoveled loose snow to the depth of some three feet. Then we
dug a hole into this inclosure through the thin wall, pushed in our
buffalo-skin bedding, and all articles penetrable by a dog's tooth and
not inclosed in tin cases, (for the dogs will eat any thing, their
own harness included,) then a few blocks of hard snow, and finally we
crawled in ourselves. The blocks of snow were jammed into the entrance,
and we were housed for the night.
Being bound on a short journey, I thought that I could afford a little
extra weight, and carried alcohol for fuel, as this is the only fuel
that can be used in the close atmosphere of a snow-hut. A ghastly blue
blaze was soon flickering in our faces, and in our single tin-kettle
some snow was being converted into water, and then the water began
to hum, and then after a long while it boiled, (it is no easy matter
to boil water in such temperature with a small lamp,) and we were
refreshed with a good strong pint pot of tea; then the tea-leaves were
tossed into one corner, some more snow was put in the tea-kettle and
melted, and out of desiccated beef and desiccated potatoes we make a
substantial hash; and when this was disposed of we lit our pipes,
rolled up in our buffaloes, and did the best we could for the balance
of the night.
[Sidenote: COLD LODGINGS.]
My invention did not, however, turn out so satisfactory as was
expected. The hut, if more commodious, and admitting of a little
movement without knocking down the loose snow all over us, was much
colder than either of our dens of the Kalutunah plan, the temperature
in each of which stood about zero through the night, elevated to that
degree by the heat radiated from our own persons, and from the lamp
which cooked the supper. But this pit under the sledge could not be
warmed above 20° below zero. No amount of coaxing could induce the
thermometer to rise.
Notwithstanding all this I still adhered to my theory about snow-huts,
and I very unjustly threw the blame on Jensen for carelessness in the
construction; so I sent him out to pile on more snow. This did not mend
matters in the least, but rather made them worse; for, through the now
open door-way, what little warmth we had managed to get up made its
escape; and when Jensen came back and we shut ourselves in again, the
temperature was -35°, and never afterwards reached higher than -30°.
Even Kalutunah was troubled to sleep, and, as he rubbed his eyes and
pounded his feet together to keep them from freezing, he made a grimace
which told more plainly than words in what low estimation he held the
Nalegaksoak's talents for making snow-huts.
[Sidenote: LOW TEMPERATURE.]
The cause of all this trouble was, however, explained next morning.
The hut was well enough, and I stuck ever afterward to the plan, and
even Kalutunah was compelled to own that it was the correct thing.
It was perfectly tight. The thermometer told the story. As it hung
against the snow wall I called Jensen's attention to it. The top of the
delicate red streak of alcohol stood at 31° below zero.
We crawled out in the open air at last, to try the sunshine. "I will
give you the best buffalo-skin in the ship, Jensen, if the air outside
is not warmer than in that den which you have left so full of holes."
And it really seemed so. Human eye never lit upon a more pure and
glowing morning. The sunlight was sparkling all over the landscape and
the great world of whiteness; and the frozen plain, the hummocks, the
icebergs, and the tall mountains, made a picture inviting to the eye.
Not a breath of air was stirring. Jensen gave in without a murmur.
"Well, the hut must have been full of holes, after all; but I'll fix it
next time."
I brought out the thermometer and set it up in the shadow of an iceberg
near by. I really expected to see it rise; but no, down sank the little
red column, down, down, almost to the very bulb, and it never stopped
until it had touched 68½° below zero,--100½° below the freezing point
of water.[7]
[Footnote 7: It is worthy of observation that the lowest temperature
recorded at Port Foulke, during my absence, was 27° below zero.]
I do not recall but two instances of equally low temperature having
been previously recorded, one of which, by Niveroff, at Yakoutsk, in
Siberia, was -72° of the Fahrenheit scale. I am not, however, aware
that any traveler has ever noted so low a temperature while in the
field.
It struck me as a singular circumstance that this great depression of
temperature was not perceptible to the senses, which utterly failed
to give us even so much as a hint that here in this blazing sunlight
we were experiencing about the coldest temperature ever recorded.
But this would have held good only in the profound calm with which
we were favored. At such low temperature the least wind is painful
and even dangerous, especially if the traveler is compelled to face
it. It is also a singular circumstance that, while the sun's rays,
penetrating the atmosphere, seem to impart to it so little warmth, they
are powerful enough to blister the skin, so that in truth the opposite
conditions of heat--positive and negative--are operating upon the
unfortunate face at one and the same time.
The effect of these low temperatures upon the snow is very striking.
It becomes hardened to such a degree that it almost equals sand
in grittiness, and the friction to the sledge-runner is increased
accordingly. The same circumstance was noted by Baron Wrangel, but
it is not new to the Esquimaux. The sledge runs most glibly when the
snow is slightly wet. To obviate in some measure the difficulty thus
occasioned, the native covers the sole of his runner with moisture.
Dissolving in his mouth a piece of snow, he pours it out into his hand
and coats with it the polished ivory sole, and in an instant he has
formed a thin film of ice to meet the hardened crystals. Kalutunah
stopped frequently for this purpose; and, upon trying the experiment
with my own sledge, I found it to work admirably, and to produce a very
perceptible difference in the draft.
It would be needless for me to give from day to day the details of this
journey. As I have said before, it was merely experimental, and it was
continued until I had satisfied myself fully that the route northward
by the Greenland coast was wholly impracticable. The condition of the
ice was very different from what it was in 1853-54. Then the coast ice
was mainly smooth, and the hummocks were not met until we had gone
from ten to twenty miles from the shore. Now there was no such belt.
The winter had set in while the ice was crowding upon the land, and
the pressure had been tremendous. Vast masses were piled up along the
track, and the whole sea was but one confused jumble of ice-fragments,
forced up by the pressure to an enormous height, and frozen together
in that position. The whole scene was the Rocky Mountains on a small
scale; peak after peak, ridge after ridge, spur after spur, separated
by deep valleys, into which we descended over a rough declivity, and
then again ascended on the other side, to cross an elevated crest and
repeat the operation. The traveling was very laborious. It was but an
endless clambering over ice-masses of every form and size.
[Sidenote: KALUTUNAH PUZZLED.]
Kalutunah was much puzzled to understand my object. He had never heard
of a journey into that region except to catch bears, and then only in
great emergencies; and when bear-track after bear-track was crossed
without our giving chase, he became even more and more concerned. He
had a double motive,--to have the sport and to see the effect of our
rifles; but none of the tracks were fresh, and the chase would have
been too long to agree with my purposes. At length, however, we came to
a trail evidently not an hour old, and which we might have pursued to a
successful issue, for the tracks were made by a mother and a small cub.
Kalutunah halted his team, and was loud in his pleadings for leave to
make a dash. He argued for the sport, for the skin which would make
the Nalegaksoak such a fine coat, for his wife and children, who had
not tasted bear-meat for ever so long a time, and finally for his dogs.
"See how unhappy they are," said he, pointing to his tired team, which
seemed to possess little appreciation of the eloquence that was being
wasted upon them, for they had all fallen down in their tracks as soon
as we had halted the sledges. Four days of hauling through drifts and
hummocks had made them care little for a bear-hunt.
[Sidenote: SIGHTING HUMBOLDT GLACIER.]
Despite the difficulties of the traveling, three days more brought me
within view of the great Humboldt Glacier, but the ice was becoming
worse and worse, the icebergs were multiplying, my dogs were being worn
out to no purpose; and much as I should have liked to continue the
journey, there was no object to be gained by doing so. The ground had
been covered by Dr. Kane's parties, and there was nothing to be learned
further than I had experienced already, namely, that, in no event,
could I get my boat to the polar sea in this direction. Whether I could
do any better by the passage across the Sound to Grinnell Land remained
to be seen. In any case, this last was clearly my only route.
The Humboldt Glacier was visible from the top of an iceberg. It
revealed itself in a long line of bluish whiteness. Cape Agassiz, the
last known point of the Greenland coast, bounded it on the right,
and to the left it melted away in the remote distance. The line of
its trend appeared to me to be more to the eastward than given in
the original survey of Mr. Bonnsall, of Dr. Kane's expedition; and,
although of little practical importance, yet this circumstance, coupled
with observations hereafter to be recorded, have caused me to deviate
somewhat, in the small chart which accompanies this volume, from the
chart of Dr. Kane.
[Sidenote: FATE OF THE "ADVANCE."]
The coast along which I had been traveling was a succession of
well-remembered landmarks. The tall sandstone cliffs were as familiar
as the rows of lofty warehouses and stores on Broadway. Both up and
down the coast I had gone so often from Van Rensselaer Harbor that I
knew every point of land, and gorge, and ravine as if I had seen them
but yesterday. But when I got down into the harbor itself how changed
was every thing! Instead of the broad, smooth ice over which I had so
often strolled, there was but a uniform wilderness of hummocks. In the
place where the _Advance_ once lay, the ice was piled up nearly as
high as were her mast-heads. Fern Rock was almost overridden by the
frightful avalanche which had torn down into the harbor from the north,
and the locality of the store-house on Butler Island was almost buried
out of sight. No vestige of the _Advance_ remained, except a small bit
of a deck-plank which I picked up near the site of the old Observatory.
The fate of the vessel is of course a matter only of conjecture. When
the ice broke up--it may have been the year we left her or years
afterward--she was probably carried out to sea and ultimately crushed
and sunk. From the Esquimaux I obtained many contradictory statements.
Indeed, with the best intentions in the world, these Esquimaux have
great trouble in telling a straight story. Even Kalutunah is not to
be depended upon if there is the ghost of a chance for invention. He
had been to the vessel, but at one time it was one year and then again
it was another; he had carried off much wood, as many other Esquimaux
had done. Another Esquimau had seen a vessel drifting about in the
North Water among the ice, and finally it was sunk in the mouth of
Wolstenholme Sound. This was four summers ago. Another had seen the
same vessel, but the event had happened only two years before; while
still another had accidentally set fire to the brig and burned her up
where she lay in Van Rensselaer Harbor. No two of them gave the same
account. Indeed, one of them asserted quite positively that the vessel
had drifted down into the bay below, was there frozen up the next
winter, and he had there boarded her when on a bear-hunt. Kalutunah had
nothing positive to say on the subject, but he rather inclined to the
story of the burning.
Every object around me was filled with old associations, some pleasant
and some painful. I visited the graves of Baker and the jovial cook,
Pierre, and looked for the pyramid which Dr. Kane mentions as "our
beacon and their tomb-stone," but it was scattered over the rocks, and
the conspicuous cross which had been painted on its southern face was
only here and there shown by a stone with a white patch upon it.
[Sidenote: A DRIVE IN A GALE.]
On our homeward journey we camped again at Cairn Point, and made there
a long halt, as I desired to get another view, from a loftier position
than before. Jensen was fortunate enough to shoot a deer, and our weary
and battered dogs were refreshed with it. Thence to the schooner was
one of the wildest rides that I remember ever to have made. A terrible
gale of wind set upon us, and, with the thermometer at -52°, it carried
a sting with it. The drifting snow was battering us at a furious rate;
but the dogs, with their heads turned homeward, did their best, and the
thirty miles were made in three and a half hours.