THE PROSPECT AHEAD.--TO CAPE NAPOLEON.--TO CAPE FRAZER.--TRACES
OF ESQUIMAUX.--ROTTEN ICE.--KENNEDY CHANNEL.--MILDNESS OF
TEMPERATURE.--APPEARANCE OF BIRDS.--GEOLOGICAL FEATURES OF
COAST.--VEGETATION.--ACCIDENT TO JENSEN.
Although much gratified with the success which I had achieved against
such desperate obstacles, yet, when I came to reflect upon my
situation, in connection with the expectations which I had entertained
at setting out, I had little heart to feel triumphant. The thirty-one
days occupied in crossing the Sound, the failure to get the boat, or
even a foot party over, had disarranged my original plans; while the
severity of the labor, and the serious and unexpected draft made upon
my provisions by the extra feeding of the dogs, in order to keep up
their strength, had so much reduced my resources that, for the present
season, I could have little hope of making any extended exploration.
Under ordinary conditions of traveling, much less than one half the
amount of food which I gave to the animals daily would have amply
sufficed for their sustenance. As it was, the eight hundred pounds
of dog-food which I had when the foot party left me, was reduced by
consumption and small depots for our return journey to about three
hundred pounds,--in no case more than sufficient for twelve days. The
most that I could now expect to do was to explore the route to the
shores of the Polar Sea, as a basis for further exploration to follow
the event of my reaching the west side of Smith Sound with my vessel
late in the summer; in other words, to ascertain what chance there was
of carrying into effect my original design, which the circumstance of
being forced into a winter harbor on the Greenland coast, instead of
the coast opposite, had disturbed.
[Sidenote: SLOWNESS OF PROGRESS.]
The extracts from my field diary, given in the last chapter, will have
shown the reader the slowness of our progress; while a former chapter
will have so far satisfied him concerning the track over which we
had recently traveled as to make any review of it in this connection
unnecessary. Although anticipating at the outset a grave obstacle in
the hummocks, I was unprepared to encounter them in such formidable
shape; and the failure of the foot party to make headway through them
was a serious blow to my expectations. I had, however, prepared myself
for every emergency, and looked forward to making up what I had lost by
remaining in Smith's Sound another year.
The journey across the Sound from Cairn Point was unexampled in Arctic
traveling. The distance from land to land, as the crow flies, did
not exceed eighty miles; and yet, as hitherto observed, the journey
consumed thirty-one days,--but little more than two miles daily. The
track, however, which we were forced to choose, was often at least
three times that of a straight line; and since almost every mile of
that tortuous route was traveled over three and often five times, in
bringing up the separate portions of our cargo, our actual distance
did not probably average less than sixteen miles daily, or about five
hundred miles in all, between Cairn Point and Cape Hawks. The last
forty miles, made with dog-sledges alone, occupied fourteen days--a
circumstance which will of itself exhibit the difficult nature of the
undertaking, especially when it is borne in mind that forty miles to
an ordinary team of dogs, over usually fair ice, is a trifling matter
for five hours, and would not fatigue the team half so much as a single
hour's pulling of the same load over such hummocks as confronted us
throughout this entire journey.
In order to obtain the best result which the Esquimau dog is capable
of yielding, it is essential that he shall be able to trot away with
his load. To walk at a dead drag is as distressing to his spirits and
energies as the hauling of a dray would be to a blooded horse; and he
will much more readily run away with a hundred pounds over good ice
than to pull one-fourth of that weight over a track which admits only
of a slow pace.
[Sidenote: WADING THROUGH DEEP SNOW.]
We did not halt longer at Cape Hawks than was needful to rest the
teams, when we commenced our journey up the coast. The first day's
march carried us across the wide bay between Capes Hawks and Napoleon.
We were rejoiced to find ourselves now, for the first time, able
to carry our cargo all at one load; and yet the traveling was far
from good. Owing to the conformation of the coast, the bay had been
sheltered from the winds, and the snows of the winter, in consequence,
lay loose upon the surface of the ice. We had, however, no alternative
but to cross the bay, for to go outside was to plunge again into the
hummocks. The snows had accumulated to the depth of more than two feet,
through which the wading was very toilsome. The sledge cut in to the
cross-ties, and the dogs sank to their bellies; and, to make the matter
worse, Jensen's leg gave out so that it became necessary to transfer
a part of his load to Knorr's sledge, in order that he might ride.
Not wishing to be detained by this circumstance, I put a belt across
McDonald's shoulders, took one myself, and gave one to Knorr, and we
each pulled, I dare say, as much as the best dog in the team.
On the second day's march the ice was found to be jammed in a terrible
manner upon Cape Napoleon, so that we were quite unable to reach the
shore at that place, and were forced to hold out into the Sound and
become once more entangled among the hummocks. A thick fog, completely
veiling the land, coming upon us from the north, and a shower of snow
following after, caused us so much bewilderment that we were obliged to
camp and await better weather.
The land-ice was reached next morning, and during that day we made a
brisk run to the north side of Cape Frazer--the first time that we had
struck a trot since leaving Cairn Point. Our camp was made near the
furthest point reached by me in 1854.
[Sidenote: KENNEDY CHANNEL.]
We were now within Kennedy Channel, which I had before barely entered.
The ice in the entrance of the Channel was much like that of the Sound
below; so that we were obliged to adhere to the land-ice, even while
crossing Gould Bay,[8] which lies between Capes Leidy and Frazer, and
which I once thought would furnish a good winter harbor. Indeed, this
was the bay which it was my aim to reach with my vessel the previous
autumn. The little flag-staff, which I had before planted at this
place, was discovered, still standing erect among the rocks; but not a
vestige of the flag remained. The winds had whipped it entirely away.
[Footnote 8: So named in honor of Dr. B. A. Gould, of Cambridge.]
[Sidenote: TRACES OF ESQUIMAUX.]
While rounding the head of Gould Bay, I observed that, as at Port
Foulke, Van Rensselaer Harbor, and indeed in almost every bay of
the Greenland coast which I have visited above Cape York, the land
rises with a gentle slope, broken into steppes of greater or less
regularity,--a series of terraced beaches, the highest of which I
estimated to be from one hundred and twenty to one hundred and fifty
feet above the sea. To these terraces I shall have occasion hereafter
to refer, and will not now longer detain the reader than merely to
observe that they indicate a consecutive elevation of the two coasts.
I also found in that Bay the remains of an Esquimau camp. The marks
were quite unmistakable in their character although of very ancient
date. The discovery was the more gratifying, that it confirmed the
native traditions which had been recited to me by Kalutunah. They were
a single circle of heavy stones lying upon the shingly terrace. The
circle was about twelve feet in diameter, and is such as may be seen
in all places where Esquimaux have been in the summer time. The stones
answer the purpose of securing the lower margin of their seal-skin
tent; and, when they break up camp, the skins are drawn out, leaving
the stones in the situation above described.
[Sidenote: ROTTEN ICE.]
The journey of the next day was the most satisfactory of any that had
been made, yet it had its drawbacks. As we proceeded, we began to
experience in even a greater degree than in Smith Sound the immense
force of ice-pressure resulting from the southerly set of the current.
Every point of land exposed to the northward was buried under ice of
the most massive description. Many blocks from thirty to sixty feet
thick, and of much greater breadth, were lying high and dry upon the
beach, pushed up by the resistless pack even above the level of the
highest tides. The first embarrassment to our progress occasioned
by this cause occurred soon after setting out from our camp above
Cape Frazer, and being wholly unable to pass it, we were obliged to
take once more to the ice-fields. But this was a matter not easily
accomplished. The tide was out, apparently at full ebb, and the
land-ice formed a wall, down which we were obliged to scramble. By
lashing the two sledges together we made a ladder, and thus secured our
own descent; while the dogs were lowered by their traces, and the cargo
piece by piece with a line. The field-ice was, however, found to be,
in addition to its roughness, in many places very rotten and insecure,
so that after one of the teams had broken through and was rescued not
without difficulty, we found ourselves compelled to haul in shore and
take once more to the land-ice. Being thenceforth under the necessity
of following all the windings of the shore line, our distance was at
least doubled, and when we hauled up for the night both ourselves and
the dogs were very weary.
Although much exhausted with the day's journey, I availed myself of
the time consumed by my companions in preparing the camp and supper
to climb the hill-side for a view. The air was quite clear, and I
commanded an uninterrupted horizon to the eastward. The ice was much
less rough than that which we had crossed in Smith Sound, owing to the
old floes having been less closely impacted while that part of the
sea was freezing up during the last autumn or winter. Hence, there
was much more new ice. It was evident that the sea had been open to a
very late period; and, indeed, like the water off Port Foulke, had not
closed up completely until the spring. I was much surprised to see the
ice so thin and washed away thus early in the season. Small patches of
open water were visible at points where the conformation of the coast
warranted the conclusion that an eddy of the current had operated upon
the ice more rapidly than in other places.
I was struck with the circumstance that no land was visible to
the eastward, as it would not have been difficult through such an
atmosphere to distinguish land at the distance of fifty or sixty miles.
It would appear, therefore, that Kennedy Channel is something wider
than hitherto supposed. To the northeast the sky was dark and cloudy,
and gave evidence of water; and Jensen, who watched the rapid advance
of the season with solicitude, was not slow to direct my attention to
the "water-sky."
[Sidenote: MILDNESS OF TEMPERATURE.]
The temperature of the air was strangely mild, and indeed distressingly
so for traveling, although it possessed its conveniences in enabling
us to sleep upon our sledges in the open air with comfort. The lowest
temperature during the day was 20°; while, at one time, it rose to the
freezing-point,--the sun blazing down upon us while we trudged on under
our heavy load of furs. The day seemed really sultry. To discard our
furs and travel in our shirt-sleeves was of course our first impulse;
but to do so added to the load on the sledges, and it was of the first
importance that the dogs should be spared every pound of unnecessary
weight; so each one carried his own coat upon his back, and perspired
after his own fashion.
[Sidenote: APPEARANCE OF BIRDS.]
This unseasonable warmth operated greatly to our disadvantage. The snow
became slushy, and with so great a distance of ice between us and Port
Foulke, Jensen, whose experience in the rapid dissolution of ice about
Upernavik, at the same season of the year, had brought him into many
serious difficulties, kept a sharp eye open upon our line of retreat.
But danger from a general break-up I did not consider as likely to
come for at least a month. Yet the spring (if such it might be called)
was approaching rapidly, as was shown by the appearance of birds. As I
stood upon the hill-side some little snow-buntings came chirping about
me, and a burgomaster-gull flew over our heads wheeling his flight
northward. He seemed to have caught the sound of tumbling seas, and was
leading his mate, who came sailing along after him with modest mien,
to a nuptial retreat on some wave-licked island; and he screamed as if
he would inquire, were we too bound on the same errand. A raven, too,
came and perched himself upon a cliff above our camp, and croaked a
dismal welcome, or a warning. One of these birds had kept us company
through the winter, and this one looked very much as if he was bent
upon adhering to my fortunes; though, I suppose, in truth, he was only
looking for crumbs. He stuck by us for several days, and always dropped
down into our abandoned camp as soon as we were on our way.
[Sidenote: GEOLOGICAL FEATURES OF COAST.]
The coast along which we were now traveling possessed much interest. It
presented a line of very lofty cliffs of Silurian rocks[9]--sandstone
and limestone--much broken down by the wasting influences of the
winter frosts and summer thaws. Behind these cliffs the land rose
into lofty peaks, such as I have before described. Upon the sides of
these peaks the snow rested, clothing them with a uniform whiteness;
but nowhere was there any evidence of mountain-ice. Along the entire
coast of Grinnell Land no glacier appears, presenting thus a striking
contrast to Greenland and the land on the south side of the Channel
which I discovered while crossing Smith Sound--the Ellesmere Land of
Captain Inglefield.
[Footnote 9: At Capes Leidy, Frazer, and other points of the coast I
subsequently obtained a considerable collection of fossils,--all of
which were forwarded to the Smithsonian Institution, at Washington,
soon after my return home. Unhappily, the finest of them were lost
after having been sent from Philadelphia; but a sufficient number of
specimens were found among the geological collections to enable Prof.
F. B. Meek, to whom I intrusted them, to establish some interesting
points of comparison. In a short paper published in Silliman's Journal,
for July, 1865, Prof. Meek enumerates and describes twelve species.
Some of the specimens were imperfect, and their specific character
could not be determined. The list is as follows:--
1. _Zaphrentis Hayesii._
2. _Syringopora * * * *._
3. _Favosites * * * *._
4. _Strophomena Rhomboidalis._
5. _Strophodonta Headleyana._
6. _Strophodonta Beckii._
7. _Rhynchonella * * * *._
8. _Cœlospira concava._
9. _Spirifer * * * *._
10. _Loxonema Kanei._
11. _Orthoceras * * * *._
12. _Illænus * * * *._
Prof. Meek makes this observation:--"From the foregoing list, it is
believed that geologists will agree that the rocks at this highest
locality at which fossils have ever been collected, belong to the
Upper Silurian era. The most remarkable fact, however, is, that they
are nearly all very closely allied to, and some of them apparently
undistinguishable from species found in the Catskill shaly Limestone of
the New York Lower Helderberg group."]
During this day's journey I had discovered numerous traces of the
former presence of Esquimaux. They were similar to those which I had
before found in Gould Bay. I also picked up some fossils at Cape Frazer
and other places, which clearly exhibited the character of the rock.
There were but few traces of vegetation in those places where the
land had been bared of snow by the winds. A willow stem (probably,
_Salix arctica_), a single specimen of a dead saxifrage (_Saxifraga
oppositifolia_), and a tuft of dried grass (_Festuca ovina_), were all
that I found.
[Sidenote: ACCIDENT TO JENSEN.]
If fortunate in point of distance accomplished, yet the day was not
all that I had hoped. The land-ice was exceedingly rough, and it was
not without much difficulty that we effected a passage around some of
the points. In one of our most difficult encounters of this nature,
Jensen slipped, and again injured his leg, and afterwards sprained his
back while lifting his sledge. In consequence of these accidents our
progress was much retarded during the following day, and involved me
again in serious embarrassment. My diary thus sums up our situation:--
May 15th.
Jensen, my strongest man and the one upon whose physical endurance
I have always relied most confidently, is not only fatigued but
completely broken down. He lies on the sledge, moaning and groaning
with pain from a sprained back and his injured leg; and what to do with
him I do not see. He appears to be unable to go further, and the only
question concerning him seems to be, how he is to be got home. With
anything like a fair field, I ought to reach about lat. 83°, but the
loss of Jensen's muscular strength is damaging to me. The track has
been execrable to-day; and yet, all things considered, we have done
very well. We have made, at the least, twenty miles. McDonald is pretty
well used up, and Knorr is quite as bad, if he could be got to own it.
Jensen's sufferings have naturally affected his spirits; and with these
long hundreds of miles lying behind us, it is perhaps not surprising
that his only present expectation will be realized, if his bones are
left to bleach among these barren rocks. What I shall do to-morrow, the
morrow must determine. Thanks to careful nursing, I have yet my dogs in
fair condition; and that is the best part of the battle.