decided that the bearings should be taken as on board a vessel whenever
the state of the atmosphere rendered the operation possible. Was not the
island, in fact, a disabled ship, tossed about without sails or helm.
The next day after taking the bearings, Hobson announced that without
change of latitude the island had advanced several miles farther west.
Mac-Nab was ordered to commence the construction of a huge boat, Hobson
telling him, in explanation, that he proposed making a reconnaissance of
the coast as far as Russian America next summer. The carpenter asked no
further questions, but proceeded to choose his wood, and fixed upon the
beach at the foot of Cape Bathurst as his dockyard, so that he might
easily be able to launch his vessel.
Hobson intended to set out the same day on his excursion round the
island in which he and his comrades were imprisoned. Many changes might
take place in the configuration of this sheet of ice, subject as it was
to the influence of the variable temperature of the waves, and it was
important to determine its actual form at the present time, its area,
and its thickness in different parts. The point of rupture, which was
most likely at the isthmus itself, ought to be examined with special
care; the fracture being still fresh, it might be possible to ascertain
the exact arrangement of the stratified layers of ice and earth of which
the soil of the island was composed.
But in the afternoon the sky clouded over suddenly, and a violent
squall, accompanied with thick mists, swept down upon the fort.
Presently torrents of rain fell, and large hailstones rattled on the
roof, whilst a few distant claps of thunder were heard, a phenomenon of
exceedingly rare occurrence in such elevated latitudes.
Hobson was obliged to put off his trip, and wait until the fury of the
elements abated, but during the 20th, 2lst, and 22d July, no change
occurred. The storm raged, the floods of heaven were let loose, and the
waves broke upon the beach with a deafening roar. Liquid avalanches were
flung with such force upon Cape Bathurst, that there was reason to
dread that it might give way; its stability was, in fact, somewhat
problematical, as it consisted merely of an aggregation of sand and
earth, without any firm foundation. Vessels at sea might well be pitied
in this fearful gale, but the floating island was of too vast a bulk to
be affected by the agitation of the waves, and remained indifferent to
their fury.
During the night of the 22d July the tempest suddenly ceased. A strong
breeze from the north-east dispelled the last mists upon the horizon.
The barometer rose a few degrees, and the weather appeared likely to
favour Hobson’s expedition.
He was to be accompanied by Mrs Barnett and Sergeant Long, and expected
to be absent a day or two. The little party took some salt meat,
biscuits, and a few flasks of rum with them, and there was nothing in
their excursion to surprise the rest of the colonists. The days were
just then very long, the sun only disappearing below the horizon for a
few hours.
There were no wild animals to be feared now. The bears seemed to have
fled by instinct from the peninsula whilst it was still connected with
the mainland, but to neglect no precaution each of the three explorers
was provided with a gun. The Lieutenant and his subordinate also carried
hatchets and ice-chisels, which a traveller in the Polar regions should
never be without.
During the absence of the Lieutenant and the Sergeant, the command of
the fort fell to Corporal Joliffe, or rather to his little wife, and
Hobson knew that he could trust her. Thomas Black could not be depended
on; he would not even join the exploring party; he promised, however,
to watch the northern latitudes very carefully, and to note any change
which should take place in the sea or the position of the cape during
the absence of the Lieutenant.
Mrs Barnett had endeavoured to reason with the unfortunate astronomer,
but he would listen to nothing. He felt that Nature had deceived him,
and that he could never forgive her.
After many a hearty farewell, the Lieutenant and his two companions left
the fort by the postern gate, and, turning to the west, followed the
lengthened curve of the coast between Capes Bathurst and Esquimaux.
It was eight o’clock in the morning; the oblique rays of the sun
struck upon the beach, and touched it with many a brilliant tint,
the angry billows of the sea were sinking to rest, and the birds,
ptarmigans, guillemots, puffins, and petrels, driven away by the storm,
were returning by thousands. Troops of ducks were hastening back to Lake
Barnett, flying close, although they knew it not, to Mrs Joliffe’s
saucepan. Polar hares, martens, musk rats, and ermines rose before the
travellers and fled at their approach, but not with any great appearance
of haste or terror. The animals evidently felt drawn towards their old
enemies by a common danger.
“They know well enough that they are hemmed in by the sea and cannot
quit the island,” observed Hobson.
“They are all in the habit of seeking warmer climates in the south in
the winter, are they not?” inquired Mrs Barnett.
“Yes, madam, but unless they are presently able to cross the
ice-field, they will have to remain prisoners like ourselves, and I am
afraid the greater number will die of cold or hunger.
“I hope they will be good enough to supply us with food for a long
time,” observed the Sergeant,” and I think it is very fortunate that
they had not the sense to run away before the rupture of the isthmus.”
“The birds will, however, leave us?” added Mrs Barnett.
“Oh yes, madam, everything with wings will go, they can traverse long
distances without fatigue, and, more fortunate than ourselves, they will
regain terra firma.”
“Could we not use them as messengers?” asked Mrs Barnett.
“A good idea, madam, a capital idea,” said Hobson. “We might
easily catch some hundreds of these birds, and tie a paper round their
necks with our exact situation written upon it. John Ross in 1848 tried
similar means to acquaint the survivors of the Franklin expedition with
the presence of his ships, the Enterprise and the Investigator in the
Polar seas. He caught some hundreds of white foxes in traps, rivetted a
copper collar round the neck of each with all the necessary information
engraved upon it, and then set them free in every direction.”
“Perhaps some of the messengers may have fallen into the hands of the
shipwrecked wanderers.”
“Perhaps so,” replied Hobson; “I know that an old fox was taken by
Captain Hatteras during his voyage of discovery, wearing a collar half
worn away and hidden beneath his thick white fur. What we cannot do with
the quadrupeds, we will do with the birds.”
Chatting thus and laying plans for the future, the three explorers
continued to follow the coast. They noticed no change; the abrupt cliffs
covered with earth and sand showed no signs of a recent alteration in
the extent of the island. It was, however, to be feared that the vast
sheet of ice would be worn away at the base by the action of the warm
currents, and on this point Hobson was naturally anxious.
By eleven o’clock in the morning the eight miles between Capes
Bathurst and Esquimaux had been traversed. A few traces of the
encampment of Kalumah’s party still remained; of course the snow huts
had entirely disappeared, but some cinders and walrus bones marked the
spot.
The three explorers halted here for a short time, they intended to pass
the few short hours of the night at Walruses’ Bay, which they hoped
to reach In a few hours. They breakfasted seated on a slightly rising
ground covered with a scanty and stunted herbage. Before their eyes lay
the ocean bounded by a clearly-defined sea-horizon, without a sail or an
iceberg to break the monotony of the vast expanse of water.
“Should you be very much surprised if some vessel came In sight now,
Lieutenant?” inquired Mrs Barnett.
“I should be very agreeably surprised, madam,” replied Hobson.
“It is not at all uncommon for whalers to come as far north as
this, especially now that the Arctic Ocean is frequented by whales and
chacholots, but you must remember that it is the 23rd July, and the
summer is far advanced. The whole fleet of whaling vessels is probably
now in Gulf Kotzebue, at the entrance to the strait. Whalers shun the
sudden changes in the Arctic Ocean, and with good reason. They dread
being shut in the ice; and the icebergs, avalanches, and, ice-fields
they avoid, are the very things for which we earnestly pray.”
“They will come, Lieutenant,” said Long; “have patience, in
another two months the waves will no longer break upon the shores of
Cape Esquimaux.”
“Cape Esquimaux!” observed Mrs Barnett with a smile. “That name,
like those we gave to the other parts of the peninsula, may turn out
unfortunate too. We have lost Port Barnett and Paulina River; who can
tell whether Cape Esquimaux and Walruses’ Bay may not also disappear
in time?”
“They too will disappear, madam,” replied Hobson, “and after
them the whole of Victoria Island, for nothing now connects it with a
continent, and it is doomed to destruction. This result is inevitable,
and our choice of geographical names will be thrown away; but
fortunately the Royal Society has not yet adopted them, and Sir Roderick
Murchison will have nothing to efface on his maps.”
“One name he will,” exclaimed the Sergeant.
“Which?” inquired Hobson.
“Cape Bathurst,” replied Long.
“Ah, yes, you are right. Cape Bathurst must now be removed from maps
of the Polar regions.”
Two hours’ rest were all the explorers cared for, and at one o’clock
they prepared to resume their journey.
Before starting Hobson once more looked round him from the summit of
Cape Esquimaux; but seeing nothing worthy of notice, he rejoined Mrs
Barnett and Sergeant Long.
“Madam,” he said, addressing the lady, “you have not forgotten the
family of natives we met here last winter?”
“Oh no, I have always held dear little Kalumah in friendly
remembrance. She promised to come and see us again at Fort Hope, but
she will not be able to do so. But why do you ask me about the natives
now?”
“Because I remember something to which, much to my regret, I did not
at the time attach sufficient importance.”
“What was that?”
“You remember the uneasy surprise the men manifested at finding a big
a factory at the foot of Cape Bathurst.”
“Oh yes, perfectly.”
“You remember that I tried to make out what the natives meant, and
that I could not do so?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well,” added Hobsou, “I know now why they shook their heads.
From tradition, experience, or something, the Esquimaux knew what the
peninsula really was, they knew we had not built on firm ground. But as
things had probably remained as they were for centuries, they thought
there was no immediate danger, and that it was not worth while to
explain themselves.”
“Very likely you are right,” replied Mrs Barnett; “but I feel sure
that Kalumah had no suspicion of her companion’s fears, or she would
have warned us.”
Hobson quite agreed with Mrs Barnett, and Sergeant Long observed—
“It really seems to have been by a kind of fatality that we settled
ourselves upon this peninsula just before it was torn away from the
mainland. I suppose, Lieutenant, that it had been connected for a very
long time, perhaps for centuries.”
“You might say for thousands and thousands of years, Sergeant,”
replied Hobson. “Remember that the soil on which we are treading
has been brought here by the wind, little by little, that the sand has
accumulated grain by grain! Think of the time it must have taken for the
seeds of firs, willows, and arbutus to become shrubs and trees! Perhaps
the sheet of ice on which we float was welded to the continent before
the creation of man!”
“Well,” cried Long, “it really might have waited a few centuries
longer before it drifted. How much anxiety and how many dangers we might
then have been spared!”
Sergeant Long’s most sensible remark closed the conversation, and the
journey was resumed.
From Cape Esquimaux to Walruses’ Bay the coast ran almost due south,
following the one hundred and twenty-seventh meridian. Looking behind
them they could see one corner of the lagoon, its waters sparkling in
the sunbeams, and a little beyond the wooded heights in which it was
framed. Large eagles soared above their heads, their cries and the loud
flapping of their wings breaking the stillness, and furred animals
of many kinds, martens, polecats, ermines, &c., crouching behind some
rising ground, or hiding amongst the stunted bushes and willows, gazed
inquiringly at the intruders. They seemed to understand that they had
nothing to fear. Hobson caught a glimpse of a few beavers wandering
about, evidently ill at ease, and puzzled at the disappearance of the
little river. With no ledges to shelter them, and no stream by which to
build a new home, they were doomed to die of cold when the severe frost
set in. Sergeant Long also saw a troop of wolves crossing the plain.
It was evident that specimens of the whole Arctic Fauna were imprisoned
on the island, and there was every reason to fear that, when famished
with hunger, all the carnivorous beasts would be formidable enemies to
the occupants of Fort Hope.
Fortunately, however, one race of animals appeared to be quite
unrepresented. Not a single white bear was seen! Once the Sergeant
thought he saw an enormous white mass moving about on the other side
of a clump of willows, but on close examination decided that he was
mistaken.
The coast near Walruses’ Bay was, on the whole, only slightly elevated
above the sea-level, and in the distance the waves broke into running
foam as they do upon a sloping beach. It was to be feared that the
soil had little stability, but there was no means of judging of the
modifications which had taken place since their last visit, and Hobson
much regretted that he had not made bench marks about Cape Bathurst
before he left, that he might judge of the amount of sinking or
depression which took place. He determined, however, to take this
precaution on his return.
It will be understood that, under the circumstances, the party did not
advance very rapidly. A pause was often made to examine the soil, or to
see if there were any sign of an approaching fracture on the coast, and
sometimes the explorers wandered inland for half a mile. Here and there
the Sergeant planted branches of willow or birch to serve as landmarks
for the future, especially wherever undermining seemed to be going on
rapidly and the solidity of the ground was doubtful. By this means it
would be easy to ascertain the changes which might take place.
They did advance, however, and at three o’clock in the afternoon
they were only three miles from Walruses’ Bay, and Hobson called Mrs
Barnett’s attention to the important changes which had been effected
by the rupture of the isthmus.
Formerly the south-western horizon was shut in by a long slightly
curved coast-line, formed by the shores of Liverpool Bay. Now a sea-line
bounded the view, the continent having disappeared. Victoria Island
ended in an abrupt angle where it had broken off, and all felt sure that
on turning round that angle the ocean would be spread out before them,
and that its waves would bathe the whole of the southern side of the
island, which was once the connecting-link between Walruses’ Bay and
Washburn Bay.
Mrs Barnett could not look at the changed aspect of the scene without
emotion. She had expected it, and yet her heart beat almost audibly.
She gazed across the sea for the missing continent, which was now left
several hundred miles behind, and it rushed upon her mind with a fresh
shock that she would never set foot on America again. Her agitation was
indeed excusable, and it was shared by the Lieutenant and the Sergeant.
All quickened their steps, eager to reach the abrupt angle in the south.
The ground rose slightly as they advanced, and the layers of earth
and sand became thicker; this of course was explained by the former
proximity of this part of the coast to the true continent. The thickness
of the crust of ice and of the layer of earth at the point of junction
increasing, as it probably did, every century, explained the long
resistance of the isthmus, which nothing but some extraordinary
convulsion could have overcome. Such a convulsion was the earthquake of
the 8th January, which, although it had only affected the continent of
North America, had sufficed to break the connecting-link, and to launch
Victoria Island upon the wide ocean.
At four o’clock P.M., the angle was reached. Walruses’ Bay, formed
by an indentation of the firm ground, had disappeared! It had remained
behind with the continent
“By my faith, madam!” exclaimed the Sergeant, “it’s lucky for
you we didn’t call it Paulina Barnett Bay!”
“Yes,” replied the lady, “I begin to think I am an unlucky
godmother for newly-discovered places.”