CHAPTER X.

THE NORTH-EAST PARTY.

"_June 27._--M'Gary and Bonsall are back with Hickey and Riley. They

arrived last evening: all well, except that the snow has affected their

eyesight badly, owing to the scorbutic condition of their systems. Mr

M'Gary is entirely blind, and I fear will be found slow to cure. They

have done admirably. They bring back a continued series of observations,

perfectly well kept up, for the further authentication of our survey,

and their results correspond entirely with those of Mr Sontag and

myself. They are connected, too, with the station at Chimney Rock, Cape

Thackeray, which we have established by theodolite. I may be satisfied

now with our projection of the Greenland coast. The different localities

to the south have been referred to the position of our winter harbour,

and this has been definitely fixed by the labours of Mr Sontag, our

astronomer. We have, therefore, not only a reliable base, but a set of

primary triangulations, which, though limited, may support the minor

field-work of our sextants.

"M'Gary and Bonsall left the brig on the 3d, and reached the Great

Glacier on the 15th, after only twelve days of travel. They showed great

judgment in passing the bays; and, although impeded by the heavy snows,

would have been able to remain much longer in the field, but for the

destruction of our provision-depôts by the bears.

[Sidenote: Shooting a Bear]

"This is evidently the season when the bears are in most abundance. Their

tracks were everywhere, both on shore and upon the floes. One of them had

the audacity to attempt intruding itself upon the party during one of

their halts upon the ice; and Bonsall tells a good story of the manner

in which they received and returned his salutations. It was about half

an hour after midnight, and they were all sleeping away a long day's

fatigue, when M'Gary either heard or felt, he could hardly tell which,

something that was scratching at the snow immediately by his head. It

waked him just enough to allow him to recognise a huge animal actively

engaged in reconnoitring the circuit of the tent. His startled outcry

aroused his companion inmates, but without in any degree disturbing

the unwelcome visitor; specially unwelcome at that time and place, for

all the guns had been left on the sledge, a little distance off, and

there was not so much as a walking-pole inside. There was, of course,

something of natural confusion in the little council of war. The first

impulse was to make a rush for the arms; but this was soon decided to be

very doubtfully practicable, if at all; for the bear, having satisfied

himself with his observations of the exterior, now presented himself at

the tent-opening. Sundry volleys of lucifer matches and some impromptu

torches of newspaper were fired without alarming him, and, after a little

while, he planted himself at the doorway and began making his supper upon

the carcass of a seal which had been shot the day before.

"Tom Hickey was the first to bethink him of the military device of a

sortie from the postern, and, cutting a hole with his knife, crawled out

at the rear of the tent. Here he extricated a boat-hook, that formed one

of the supporters of the ridge-pole, and made it the instrument of a

right valorous attack. A blow well administered on the nose caused the

animal to retreat for the moment a few paces beyond the sledge, and Tom,

calculating his distance nicely, sprang forward, seized a rifle, and fell

back in safety upon his comrades. In a few seconds more, Mr Bonsall had

sent a ball through and through the body of his enemy. I was assured that

after this adventure the party adhered to the custom I had enjoined, of

keeping at all times a watch and fire-arms inside the camping-tent.

[Sidenote: Ravages of the Bears]

"The final _cache_, which I relied so much upon, was entirely destroyed.

It had been built, with extreme care, of rocks which had been assembled

by very heavy labour, and adjusted with much aid often from capstan-bars

as levers. The entire construction was, so far as our means permitted,

most effective and resisting. Yet these tigers of the ice seemed to have

scarcely encountered an obstacle. Not a morsel of pemmican remained

except in the iron cases, which, being round with conical ends, defied

both claw and teeth. They had rolled and pawed them in every direction,

tossing them about like foot-balls, although over eighty pounds in

weight. An alcohol-case, strongly iron-bound, was dashed into small

fragments, and a tin can of liquor mashed and twisted almost into a ball.

The claws of the beast had perforated the metal, and torn it up as with a

cold chisel.

"They were too dainty for salt-meats: ground coffee they had an evident

relish for: old canvas was a favourite for some reason or other; even our

flag, which had been reared 'to take possession' of the waste, was gnawed

down to the very staff. They had made a regular frolic of it; rolling our

bread-barrels over the ice-foot and into the broken outside ice; and,

unable to masticate our heavy India-rubber cloth, they had tied it up in

unimaginable hard knots.

"M'Gary describes the whole area around the _cache_ as marked by the

well-worn paths of these animals; and an adjacent slope of ice-covered

rock, with an angle of 45°, was so worn and covered with their hair, as

to suggest the idea that they had been amusing themselves by sliding down

it on their haunches--a performance, by the way, in which I afterward

caught them myself.

"_June 28._--Hans came up with the party on the 17th. Morton and he are

still out. They took a day's rest; and then, 'following the old tracks,'

as M'Gary reports, 'till they were clear of the cracks near the islands,

pushed northward at double-quick time. When last seen, they both of them

walking, for the snow was too soft and deep for them to ride with their

heavy load.' Fine weather, but the ice yields reluctantly."

While thus watching the indications of advancing summer, my mind turned

anxiously to the continued absence of Morton and Hans. We were already

beyond the season when travel upon the ice was considered practicable

by our English predecessors in Wellington Channel, and, in spite of the

continued solidity around us, it was unsafe to presume too much upon our

high northern position.

It was, therefore, with no slight joy that on the evening of the 10th,

while walking with Mr Bonsall, a distant sound of dogs caught my ear.

These faithful servants generally bayed their full-mouthed welcome from

afar off, but they always dashed in with a wild speed which made their

outcry a direct precursor of their arrival. Not so these well-worn

travellers. Hans and Morton staggered beside the limping dogs, and poor

Jenny was riding as a passenger upon the sledge. It was many hours before

they shared the rest and comfort of our ship.

Mr Morton left the brig with the relief party of M'Gary on the 4th of

June. He took his place at the track-lines like the others; but he was

ordered to avoid all extra labour, so as to husband his strength for the

final passage of the ice.

On the 15th he reached the base of the Great Glacier, and on the 16th was

joined by Hans with the dogs. A single day was given to feed and refresh

the animals, and on the 18th the two companies parted. Morton's account

I give as nearly as possible in his own words, without affecting any

modification of his style.

[Sidenote: Morton's Journey]

The party left Cache Island at 12.35 A.M., crossing the

land-ices by portage, and going south for about a mile to avoid a couple

of bad seams caused by the breakage of the glacier. Here Morton and Hans

separated from the land-party, and went northward, keeping parallel with

the glacier, and from five to seven miles distant. The ice was free from

hummocks, but heavily covered with snow, through which they walked knee

deep. They camped about eight miles from the glacier.

They started again at half-past nine. The ice at first was very heavy,

and they were frequently over their knees in the dry snow; but, after

crossing certain drifts, it became hard enough to bear the sledge, and

the dogs made four miles an hour until twenty minutes past four, when

they reached the middle of Peabody Bay. They then found themselves

among the bergs which on former occasions had prevented other parties

from getting through. These were generally very high, evidently newly

separated from the glacier.

It took them a long while to get through into smoother ice. A tolerably

wide passage would appear between two bergs, which they would gladly

follow; then a narrower one; then no opening in front, but one to the

side. Following that a little distance, a blank ice-cliff would close the

way altogether, and they were forced to retrace their steps and begin

again. Constantly baffled, but, like true fellows, determined to "go

ahead," they at last found a lane some six miles to the west, which led

upon their right course. But they were from eight o'clock at night till

two or three the next morning, puzzling their way out of the maze, like a

blind man in the streets of a strange city.

_June 19._--At 8.45 A.M. they encamped. Again starting, they

went on for ten miles, but were then arrested by wide seams in the ice,

bergs, and much broken ice; so they turned about, and reached their last

camp by twelve, midnight. They then went westward, and, after several

trials, made a way, the dogs running well. It took them but two hours to

reach the better ice, for the bergs were in a narrow belt.

They were now nearly abreast of the termination of the Great Glacier. It

was mixed with earth and rocks. The snow sloped from the land to the ice,

and the two seemed to be mingled together for eight or ten miles to the

north, when the land became solid, and the glacier was lost. The height

of this land seemed about 400 feet, and the glacier lower.

_June 21._--They stood to the north at 11.30 P.M., and made for

what Morton thought a cape, seeing a vacancy between it and the West

Land. The ice was good, even, and free from bergs, only two or three

being in sight. The atmosphere became thick and misty, and the west

shore, which they saw faintly on Tuesday, was not visible. They could

only see the cape for which they steered. The cold was sensibly felt, a

very cutting wind blowing north-east by north. They reached the opening

seen to the westward of the cape by Thursday, 7 A.M. It proved

to be a channel; for, as they moved on in the misty weather, a sudden

lifting of the fog showed them the cape and the western shore.

The ice was weak and rotten, and the dogs began to tremble. Proceeding at

a brisk rate, they had got upon unsafe ice before they were aware of it.

Their course was at the time nearly up the middle of the channel; but,

as soon as possible, they turned, and, by a backward circuit, reached

the shore. The dogs, as their fashion is, at first lay down and refused

to proceed, trembling violently. The only way to induce the terrified,

obstinate brutes to get on was for Hans to go to a white-looking spot

where the ice was thicker, the soft stuff looking dark; then, calling the

dogs coaxingly by name, they would crawl to him on their bellies. So they

retreated from place to place, until they reached the firm ice they had

quitted. A half-mile brought them to comparatively safe ice, a mile more

to good ice again.

In the midst of this danger they had during the liftings of the fog

sighted open water, and they now saw it plainly. There was no wind

stirring, and its face was perfectly smooth. It was two miles further up

the channel than the firm ice to which they had retreated. Hans could

hardly believe it. But for the birds that were seen in great numbers,

Morton says he would not have believed it himself.

The ice covered the mouth of the channel like a horse-shoe. One end

lapped into the west side a considerable distance up the channel, the

other covered the cape for about a mile and a half, so that they could

not land opposite their camp, which was about a mile and a half from the

cape.

[Sidenote: The Ice-foot]

That night they succeeded in climbing on to the level by the floe-pieces,

and walked around the turn of the cape for some distance, leaving their

dogs behind. They found a good ice-foot, very wide, which extended as far

as the cape.

They started again at 11.30 A.M. of the 21st. On reaching the

land-ice, they unloaded, and threw each package of provision from the

floe up to the ice-foot, which was eight or nine feet above them. Morton

then climbed up with the aid of the sledge, which they converted into a

ladder for the occasion. He then pulled the dogs up by the lines fastened

round their bodies, Hans lending a helping hand and then climbing up

himself. They then drew up the sledge. The water was very deep,--a stone

the size of Morton's head taking twenty eight seconds to reach the

bottom, which was seen very clearly.

As they had noticed the night before, the ice-foot lost its good

character on reaching the cape, becoming a mere narrow ledge hugging

the cliffs, and looking as if it might crumble off altogether into the

water at any moment. Morton was greatly afraid there would be no land-ice

there at all when they came back. Hans and he thought they might pass on

by climbing along the face of the crag; in fact they tried a path about

fifty feet high, but it grew so narrow that they saw they could not get

the dogs past with their sledge-load of provisions. He therefore thought

it safest to leave some food, that they might not starve on the return

in case the ice-foot should disappear. He accordingly _cached_ enough

provision to last them back, with four days' dog-meat.

At the pitch of the cape the ice-ledge was hardly three feet wide; and

they were obliged to unloose the dogs and drive them forward alone. Hans

and he then tilted the sledge up, and succeeded in carrying it past the

narrowest place. The ice-foot was firm under their tread, though it

crumbled on the verge.

They now yoked in the dogs, and set forward over the worst sort of mashed

ice for three-quarters of a mile. After passing the cape, they looked

ahead, and saw nothing but open water. After turning the cape, they found

a good smooth ice-foot in the entering curve of a bay. They came upon

glassy ice, and the dogs ran on it full speed. Here the sledge made at

least six miles an hour. It was the best day's travel they made on the

journey.

The part of the channel they were now coasting was narrower, but as they

proceeded it seemed to widen again.

To the left of this, toward the West Land, the great channel of

open water continued. There was broken ice floating in it, but with

passages fifteen miles in width and perfectly clear. The end of the

point--"Gravel Point," as Morton called it--was covered with hummocks and

broken ice for about two miles from the water. This ice was worn and full

of gravel. Six miles inland the point was flanked by mountains.

The wind blew strong from the north, and continued to do so for three

days, sometimes blowing a gale, and very damp, the tops of the hills

becoming fixed with dark foggy clouds. The damp falling mist prevented

their seeing any distance. Yet they saw no ice borne down from the

northward during all this time; and, what was more curious, they found,

on their return south, that no ice had been sent down during the gale. On

the contrary, they then found the channel perfectly clear from shore to

shore.

_June 22._--They camped at 8.30 A.M. on a ledge of low rock,

having made in the day's journey forty-eight miles in a straight line.

_June 23._--In consequence of the gale of wind they did not start till

12.30 midnight. They made about eight miles, and were arrested by the

broken ice of the shore. Their utmost efforts could not pass the sledge

over this; so they tied the dogs to it, and went ahead to see how things

looked. They found the land-ice growing worse and worse, until at last it

ceased, and the water broke directly against the steep cliffs.

[Sidenote: A Bear Hunt]

_June 23._--At 3 A.M. they started again, carrying eight pounds

of pemmican and two of bread, besides the artificial horizon, sextant,

and compass, a rifle, and the boat-hook. After two hours' walking the

travel improved, and, on nearing a plain about nine miles from where

they had left the sledge, they were rejoiced to see a she-bear and her

cub. They had tied the dogs securely, as they thought; but Toodla and

four others had broken loose and followed them, making their appearance

within an hour. They were thus able to attack the bear at once.

Hans, who to the simplicity of an Esquimaux united the shrewd observation

of a hunter, describes the contest which followed so graphically, that I

try to engraft some of the quaintness of his description upon Mr Morton's

report. The bear fled; but the little one being unable either to keep

ahead of the dogs or to keep pace with her, she turned back, and putting

her head under its haunches, threw it some distance ahead. The cub safe

for the moment, she would wheel round and face the dogs, so as to give it

a chance to run away; but it always stopped just as it alighted, till she

came up and threw it ahead again: it seemed to expect her aid, and would

not go on without it. Sometimes the mother would run a few yards ahead,

as if to coax the young one up to her, and when the dogs came up she

would turn on them and drive them back; then, as they dodged her blows,

she would rejoin the cub and push it on, sometimes putting her head under

it, some times catching it in her mouth by the nape of the neck.

For a time she managed her retreat with great celerity, leaving the

two men far in the rear. They had engaged her on the land-ice; but she

led the dogs in-shore, up a small stony valley which opened into the

interior. But, after she had gone a mile and a half, her pace slackened,

and, the little one being jaded, she soon came to a halt.

[Illustration: Far North--_Page 111._]

The men were then only half a mile behind; and, running at full speed,

they soon came up to where the dogs were holding her at bay. The fight

was now a desperate one. The mother never went more than two yards ahead,

constantly looking at the cub. When the dogs came near her, she would

sit upon her haunches and take the little one between her hind legs,

fighting the dogs with her paws, and roaring so that she could have been

heard a mile off. "Never," said Morton, "was an animal more distressed."

She would stretch her neck and snap at the nearest dog with her shining

teeth, whirling her paws like the arms of a windmill. If she missed

her aim, not daring to pursue one dog lest the others should harm the

cub, she would give a great roar of baffled rage, and go on pawing, and

snapping, and facing the ring, grinning at them with her mouth stretched

wide.

[Sidenote: Death of the Bear]

When the men came up, the little one was perhaps rested, for it was able

to turn round with her dam, no matter how quick she moved, so as to keep

always in front of her belly. The five dogs were all the time frisking

about her actively, tormenting her like so many gad-flies; indeed, they

made it difficult to lodge a bullet in her without killing them. But

Hans, lying on his elbow, took a quiet aim and shot her through the head.

She dropped and rolled over dead without moving a muscle.

The dogs sprang toward her at once; but the cub jumped upon her body and

reared up, for the first time growling hoarsely. They seemed quite afraid

of the little creature, she fought so actively and made so much noise;

and, while tearing mouthfuls of hair from the dead mother, they would

spring aside the minute the cub turned toward them. The men drove the

dogs off for a time, but were obliged to shoot the cub at last, as she

would not quit the body.

Hans fired into her head. It did not reach the brain, though it knocked

her down; but she was still able to climb on her mother's body and try

to defend it still, "her mouth bleeding like a gutter-spout." They were

obliged to despatch her with stones.

After skinning the old one they gashed its body, and the dogs fed upon

it ravenously. The little one they _cached_ for themselves on the return;

and, with difficulty taking the dogs off, pushed on, crossing a small bay

which extended from the level ground and had still some broken ice upon

it. Hans was tired out, and was sent on shore to follow the curve of the

bay, where the road was easier.

Morton tried to pass round the cape. It was in vain: there was no

ice-foot; and, trying his best to ascend the cliffs, he could get up but

a few hundred feet. Here he fastened to his walking-pole the Grinnell

flag of the Antarctic--a well-cherished little relic, which had now

followed me on two Polar voyages. This flag had been saved from the wreck

of the United States sloop-of-war _Peacock_, when she stranded off the

Columbia River; it had accompanied Commodore Wilkes in his far southern

discovery of an Antarctic continent. It was now its strange destiny to

float over the highest northern land, not only of America, but of our

globe. Side by side with this were our masonic emblems of the compass and

the square. He let them fly for an hour and a half from the black cliff

over the dark rock-shadowed waters, which rolled up and broke in white

caps at its base.

Beyond this cape all is surmise. The high ridges to the north-west

dwindled off into low blue knobs, which blended finally with the air.

Morton called the cape, which baffled his labours, after his commander;

but I have given it the more enduring name of Cape Constitution.

He was bitterly disappointed that he could not get round the cape, to see

whether there was any land beyond; but it was impossible. Rejoining Hans,

they supped off their bread and pemmican, and, after a good nap, started

on their return on the 25th, at 1.30 P.M.

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The Far North: Exploration in the Arctic Regions · 第 10 / 21 章