THE SHORTEST ROUTE.
Night was closing in when Erik summoned his three friends and counselors
to hold a serious consultation.
"I have reflected a great deal," he said to them, "upon the
circumstances which have made our voyage memorable since we left
Stockholm. I have been forced to arrive at one conclusion, which is that
we must expect to meet with obstacles or accidents during our voyage.
Perhaps they may befall us at Gibraltar or at Malta. If we are not
destroyed, it appears to me certain that we shall be delayed. In that
case we can not reach Behring's Straits during the summer, which is the
only season when it is practicable to navigate the polar sea!"
"That is also the conclusion which I formed some time ago," declared Mr.
Bredejord: "but I kept it to myself, as I did not wish to dampen your
hopes, my dear boy. But I am sure that we must give up the idea of
reaching Behring's Strait in three months!"
"That is also my opinion," said the doctor.
Mr. Malarius on his part indicated by a motion of his head that he
agreed with them all.
"Well!" said Erik, "having settled that point, what line of conduct now
remains for us to adopt?"
"There is one right course which it is our duty to take," answered Mr.
Bredejord, "it is to renounce an enterprise which we see clearly is
impracticable and return to Stockholm. You understand this fact, my
child, and I congratulate you upon being able to look the situation
calmly in the face!"
"You pay me a compliment which I can not accept," said Erik smiling,
"for I do not merit it. No--I have no thoughts of abandoning the
expedition, for I am far from regarding it as impracticable. I only
think that it is best for us all to baffle the machinations of that
scoundrel who is lying in wait for us, and the first thing to do is to
change our route."
"Such a change would only complicate our difficulties," replied the
doctor, "since we have adopted the shortest one. If it would be
difficult to reach Behring's Straits by the Mediterranean and the Suez
Canal, it would be impossible by the Cape of Good Hope, or Cape Horn,
for either of these routes would necessarily take five or six months."
"There is another way which would shorten our voyage, instead of
lengthening it, and where we would be sure not to meet Tudor Brown,"
said Erik.
"Another way?" answered Dr. Schwaryencrona; "upon my word I do not know
of any unless you are thinking of the way of Panama. But it is not yet
practicable for vessels, and it will not be yet for several years."
"I am not thinking of Panama, nor of Cape Horn, nor of the Cape of Good
Hope," answered the young captain of the "Alaska." "The route I propose
is the only one by which we can reach Behring's Strait in three months:
it is to go by way of the Arctic Ocean, the north-west passage."
Then seeing that his friends were stupefied by this unexpected
announcement, Erik proceeded to develop his plans.
"The north-west passage now is no longer what it was formerly, frightful
to navigators--it is intermittent, since it is only open for eight or
ten weeks every year, but it is now well known, marked out upon
excellent charts, and frequented by hundreds of whaling-vessels. It is
rarely taken by any vessel going from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean,
I must admit. Most of them who enter it from either side only traverse
it partially. It might even happen, if circumstances were not favorable,
that we might find the passage closed, or that it might not be open at
the precise time when we desired to enter it. It is a risk that one must
take. But I think there are many reasons to make us hopeful of success
if we take this route, whilst as far as I can see there is none, if we
take any of the others. This being the state of affairs, I think it is
our duty--a duty which we owe to those who have fitted out the
expedition--to take the shortest way of reaching Behring's Strait. An
ordinary vessel equipped for navigating tropical waters might hesitate
before deciding upon such a course, but with a vessel like the 'Alaska'
fitted out especially for polar navigation, we need not hesitate. For my
part I declare that I will not return to Stockholm before having
attempted to find Nordenskiold."
Erik's reasoning was so sound that nobody tried to contradict it.
What objections could the doctor, Mr. Bredejord, and Mr. Malarius raise?
They saw the difficulties which beset the new plan. But it was possible
that these difficulties might not prove insurmountable, whilst, if they
pursued any other course, they must abandon all hopes of success.
Besides, they did not hesitate to agree with Erik that it would be more
glorious, in any case, to make the attempt, than to return to Stockholm
and acknowledge themselves conquered.
"I see but one serious objection, for my part," said Dr. Schwaryencrona,
after he had remained for a few moments lost in reflection. "It is the
difficulty of procuring coal in the arctic regions. For without coal,
adieu to the possibility of making the north-west passage, and of
profiting by the time, often very short, during which it is
practicable."
"I have foreseen this difficulty, which is in fact the only one,"
answered Erik, "and I do not think it is insurmountable. In place of
going to Malta or Gibraltar, where we might doubtless expect new
machinations on the part of Tudor Brown, I propose that we go to London;
from there I can send, by transatlantic cable, a dispatch to a house in
Montreal, to send without delay a boat loaded with coal to wait for us
in Baffin's Bay, and to a house in San Francisco to send to Behring's
Strait. We have the necessary funds at our disposal, and, besides, we
will not require as much as we would have done if we had gone by the way
of Asia, for our new route is a much shorter one. It is useless for us
to reach Baffin's Bay before the end of May, and we can not hope to
reach Behring's Strait before the end of June. Our correspondents in
Montreal and San Francisco will therefore have plenty of time to execute
our orders, which will be covered by funds deposited with bankers in
London. This accomplished, we shall only have to find out whether the
north-west passage is practicable, and that evidently depends upon
ourselves. But, if we find the passage closed, at least we shall have
the consolation of knowing that we have neglected nothing that could
have insured our success."
"It is evident!" said Mr. Malarius, "that your arguments are
unanswerable!"
"Gently, gently," said Mr. Bredejord. "Do not let us go too fast. I have
another objection. Do you think, my dear Erik, that the 'Alaska' can
pass unnoticed through these waters? No, it is not possible. The
newspapers would mention our arrival. The telegraph companies would make
it known. Tudor Brown would know it. He would know that we had changed
our plans. What would prevent him from altering his? Do you think, for
example, that it would be very difficult to prevent our boat with coals
from reaching us?--and without it we could do nothing!"
"That is true," answered Erik, "and it proves that we must think of
everything. We must not go to London. We must put into Lisbon as if we
were _en route_ to Gibraltar and Suez. Then one of us must go
_incognito_ to Madrid, and without explaining why, or for whom it is
intended, must open telegraphic communications with Montreal and San
Francisco, to order the supply of coal. The crews of these boats must
not know for whom the coal is destined, but remain at designated points
at the disposition of a captain who will carry an order to them
previously agreed upon!"
"A perfect arrangement. It will be almost impossible for Tudor Brown to
track us."
"You mean to track me, for I hope that you do not think of accompanying
me to these arctic regions," said Erik.
"Indeed that is my intention!" answered the doctor. "It shall not be
said that that rascal, Tudor Brown, made me turn back!"
"Nor me either," cried Mr. Bredejord and Mr. Malarius together.
The young captain tried to combat this resolution, and explained to his
friends the dangers and monotony of the voyage which they proposed to
take with him. But he could not alter their decision. The perils which
they had already encountered, made them feel it a duty to keep together;
for the only way of rendering such a voyage acceptable to them all was
not to separate. Every precaution had been taken to protect the persons
on board the "Alaska" from suffering unduly from cold; and neither
Swedes nor Norwegians fear frost.
Erik was obliged to yield to their wishes, only stipulating that their
change of route should not be made known to the crew of the vessel.
The first part of their voyage was quickly accomplished.
On the 2d of April the "Alaska" reached Lisbon. Before the newspapers
had given notice of their arrival, Mr. Bredejord had gone to Madrid, and
by means of a banking-house opened communications with two large firms,
one in Montreal and one in San Francisco.
He had arranged to have two boat-loads of coal sent to two designated
points, and had given the sign by which Erik was to make himself known.
This sign was the words found upon him when he was discovered floating,
tied to the buoy of the "Cynthia," "Semper idem."
Finally these arrangements having all been happily concluded, on the 9th
of April Mr. Bredejord returned to Lisbon, and the "Alaska" resumed her
voyage.
On the twenty-fifth of the same month, having crossed the Atlantic and
reached Montreal, where they took in coal, and Erik was assured that his
orders had been punctually fulfilled, they left the waters of the St.
Lawrence and Straits of Belle Isle, which separate Labrador from
Newfoundland. On the 10th of May they reached the coast of Greenland and
found the vessel with their coal, it having arrived before them.
Erik knew very well that at this early date it would be useless to
attempt to force his way through the Arctic Ocean, which was still
firmly frozen over the largest part of his route. But he counted upon
obtaining on these shores, which were much frequented by
whaling-vessels, precise information as to the best charts, and he was
not mistaken. He was also able to buy, although at a high price, a dozen
dogs, who with Kaas could draw their sledges if necessary.
Among the Danish stations on the coast of Greenland, he found Godhaven,
which is only a poor village, and is used as a depot by dealers in oil
and the furs of the country. At this time of the year the cold is not
more severe than at Stockholm or Noroe. But Erik and his friends beheld
with surprise the great difference between the two countries, both
situated at the same distance from the pole. Godhaven is in precisely
the same latitude as Bergen. But whilst the southern port of Norway is
in April covered with green forests and fruit trees, and even cultivated
vines trained upon trellises above green meadows, Greenland is still in
May covered with ice and snow, without a tree to enliven the monotony.
The shape of the Norwegian coast, deeply indented by fjords and
sheltered by chains of islands, which contribute almost as much as the
warmth of the Gulf Stream to raise the temperature of the country.
Greenland, on the contrary, has a low regular coast and receives the
full shock of the cold blasts from the pole, consequently she is
enveloped almost to the middle of the island by fields of ice several
feet in thickness.
They spent fifteen days in the harbor and then the "Alaska" mounted
Davis' Straits, and keeping along the coast of Greenland, gained the
polar sea.
On the 28th of May for the first time they encountered floating ice in
70 15' of north latitude, with a temperature two degrees below zero.
These first icebergs, it is true, were in a crumbling condition, rapidly
breaking up into small fragments. But soon they became more dense, and
frequently they had to break their way through them. Navigation,
although difficult, was not as yet dangerous. By a thousand signs they
perceived, however, that they were in a new world. All objects at a
little distance appeared to be colorless, and almost without form; the
eye could find no place to repose in this perpetually changing horizon,
which every minute assumed a new aspect.
"Who can describe," says an eye-witness, "these melancholy surroundings,
the roaring of the waves beating beneath the floating ice, the singular
noise made by the snow as it falls suddenly into the abyss of waters?
Who can imagine the beauty of the cascades which gush out on all sides,
the sea of foam produced by their fall, the fright of the sea-birds who,
having fallen asleep on a pyramid of ice, suddenly find their
resting-place overturned and themselves obliged to fly to some other
spot? And in the morning, when the sun bursts through the fog, at first
only a little of the blue sky is visible, but it gradually widens, until
the view is only limited by the horizon."
These spectacles, presented by the polar sea, Erik and his friends were
able to contemplate at their leisure as they left the coast of
Greenland, to which they had kept close until they had reached
Uppernavik. Then they sailed westward across Baffin's Bay. Here
navigation became more difficult, for this sea is the ordinary course of
the polar icebergs which are drawn in by the innumerable currents which
traverse it. Sometimes they found their course checked by insurmountable
barriers of ice, which it was impossible to break, and therefore they
were compelled to turn aside. The "Alaska" was obliged continually to
break her way through immense fields of ice. Sometimes a tempest of snow
assailed them which covered the deck and the masts with a thick coat.
Sometimes they were assailed by ice dashed over them by the wind, which
threatened to sink the vessel by its weight. Sometimes they found
themselves in a sort of lake, surrounded on all sides by fields of ice
apparently firm and impassable, and from which they had great difficulty
to extricate themselves and gain the open sea. Then they had to exercise
great vigilance to escape some enormous iceberg sailing down from the
north with incredible swiftness, a frightful mass, which could have
crushed the "Alaska" like a walnut. But a greater danger still was the
submarine ice, which could injure her and act like a battering-ram.
The "Alaska" lost her two large boats. One must experience the dangers
which polar navigation presents at every moment to have any just
appreciation of them.
After one or two weeks of such experience the most intrepid crew become
exhausted, and repose is necessary for them.
Sometimes, although surrounded by all these dangers, they made rapid
progress; at others they made scarcely any; but at length, on the 11th
of June, they came in sight of land again, and cast anchor at the
entrance to Lancaster Sound.
Erik had expected to be obliged to wait some days before being able to
enter the sound; but, to his surprise and joy, he found it open, at
least at the entrance. He entered resolutely, but only to find the next
day his passage impeded by ice, which held them prisoners for three
days; but, thanks to the violent currents which sweep through this
Arctic canal, he at last was able to free his vessel and continue his
route as the whalers of Godhaven had told him he would be able to do.
On the seventeenth he arrived at Barrow's Straits, and made all the
speed he could; but on the nineteenth, as he was about to enter Melville
Sound, he was again blocked in by the ice.
At first he patiently accepted the situation, waiting for it to break
up; but day succeeded to day and still this did not happen.
There were, however, many sources of amusement open to the voyagers.
They were near the coast and supplied with everything that could render
their life comfortable in that latitude. They could take sleigh-rides
and see in the distance the whales enjoying their diversions. The summer
solstice was approaching. Since the fifteenth the occupants of the
"Alaska" had beheld a new and astonishing spectacle, even for Norwegians
and the natives of southern Sweden; it was the sun at midnight touching
the horizon without disappearing and then mounting again in the sky. In
these high latitudes and desolate coasts the star of day describes in
twenty-four hours a complete circle in space. The light, it is true, is
pale and languishing, objects lose their perfect shape, and all nature
has a shadowy appearance. One realizes profoundly how far he is removed
from the world, and how near he is to the pole. The cold, however, was
not extreme. The temperature did not fall more than four or five degrees
below zero, and the air was sometimes so mild that they could hardly
believe that they were in the center of the arctic zone.
But those novel surrounding were not sufficient to satisfy Erik, or make
him lose sight of the supreme object which had brought them there. He
had not come to herbalize like Mr. Malarius, who returned every evening
more and more delighted with his explorations, both of the country and
of its unknown plants, which he added to his collection; nor to enjoy
with Dr. Schwaryencrona and Mr. Bredejord the novelty of the sights
which nature offered to them in these polar regions. He wanted to find
Nordenskiold and Patrick O'Donoghan--to fulfill a sacred duty while he
discovered, perhaps, the secret of his birth. This was why he sought
untiringly to break the circle of ice which hemmed them in. He made
excursions with his sleigh and on his snow-shoes, reconnoitered in every
direction for ten days, but it was all in vain. At the west, as well as
the north and east, the banks of ice remained firm.
It was the 20th of June, and they were still far from the Siberian Sea.
Must he confess himself vanquished? Erik could not make up his mind to
do this. Repeated soundings had revealed that under the ice there was a
swift current running toward Franklin's Strait, that is to say toward
the south; he told himself that some effort might suffice to break up
the ice, and he resolved to attempt it.
For the length of seven marine miles he had hollowed in the ice a series
of chambers, and in each of them was placed a kilogramme of dynamite.
These were connected by a copper wire inclosed in gutta percha.
On the 30th of June, at eight o'clock in the morning, Erik from the deck
of the "Alaska" pressed the button of the electrical machine, and a
formidable explosion took place. The field of ice shook and trembled,
and clouds of frightened sea-birds hovered around uttering discordant
cries. When silence was restored, a long black train cut into
innumerable fissures met their anxious gaze. The explosion of the
terrible agent had broken up the ice field. There was, so to speak, a
moment of hesitation, and then the ice acted as if it had only been
waiting for some signal to move. Cracking in all parts it yielded to the
action of the current, and they beheld here and there whole continents,
as it were, gradually moving away from them. Some portions, however,
were more slow to move; they seemed to be protesting against such
violence. The next day the passage was clear, and the "Alaska" rekindled
her fires.
Erik and his dynamite had done what it would probably have taken the
pale arctic sun a month longer to accomplish.
On the 2d of July, the expedition arrived at Banks' Straits; on the
fourth, she issued from the Arctic Sea properly speaking. From this time
the route was open notwithstanding icebergs, fogs, and snow-storms. On
the twelfth, the "Alaska" doubled Ice Cape; on the thirteenth, Cape
Lisburne, and on the fourteenth she entered the Gulf of Kotzebue to the
north of Behring's Straits and found there, according to instructions,
the boat loaded with coal which had been sent from San Francisco.
Thus in two months and sixteen days they had accomplished the programme
arranged by Erik before they left the coast of France.
The "Alaska" had hardly ceased to move, when Erik rushed into a small
boat and hurried off to accost the officer who had charge of the boat
loaded with coal.
"_Semper idem!_" said he, as he approached.
"Lisbon!" answered the Yankee.
"How long have you been waiting here for me?"
"Five weeks--we left San Francisco one month after the arrival of your
dispatch."
"Have you heard any news of Nordenskiold?"
"At San Francisco they had not received any reliable information about
him. But since I have been here I have spoken to several captains of
whaling-vessels, who said that they had heard from the natives of
Serdze-Kamen that an European vessel had been frozen in by the ice for
nine or ten months; they thought it was the 'Vega.'"
"Indeed!" said Erik, with a joy which we can easily understand. "And do
you believe that it has not yet succeeded in getting through the
straits?"
"I am sure of it--not a vessel has passed us for the last five weeks,
which I have not seen and spoken to."
"God be praised--our troubles will not be without recompense, if we
succeed in finding Nordenskiold."
"You will not be the first who has done so!" said the Yankee, with an
ironical smile--"an American yacht has preceded you. It passed here
three days ago, and like you was inquiring for Nordenskiold."
"An American yacht?" repeated Erik, half stupefied.
"Yes--the 'Albatross,' Captain Tudor Brown, from Vancouver's Island. I
told him what I had heard, and he immediately started for Cape
Serdze-Kamen."