Several of the officers and men attempted the ascent of the promontory

of Cape Lieber, a precipitous cliff three thousand feet high, which

seemed but a stone’s throw away, but to reach which required a long,

cold row, and then a fatiguing and painful climb. Lockwood and two only

of the party succeeded. The difficulty was in the giving way of the

crumbling slate-rock, which formed an incline of 45°. Those that reached

the summit were rewarded by a grand view, extending to the limit of

vision. On their return, after clambering over some rocks cropping out

of the slippery snow and ice, they chose a short cut and came down at a

run, or rather slide, followed by a miniature avalanche of _débris_. On

the 6th of August, it was found that the icy barrier, which evidently

came from the Polar Sea, was moving south, carrying the steamer along.

Some game was seen in both air and water, but none taken. Parties

attempted to reach the shore on the ice, but were recalled by signal, as

moving ice was seen from the ship, and also open water near the shore.

From this point they slowly drifted south, with high winds from the

north which opened up lanes of water which they did not think safe to

enter. The total drift amounted to ten miles. With the lowering of

temperature, it was suggested that it would be well to move across the

channel, along the pack, and, if needful, land on the Greenland shore,

possibly where Hall had wintered.

On the 11th of August, the ice barrier gave way under a change of wind

and weather, leaving the passage open. Under full steam and sail, and

with beautiful weather, they soon regained all the distance they had

lost by drift, passed Cape Lieber, and came abreast of Cape Baird.

Thence forcing their way through the broken ice of the bay, and reaching

Bellot Island, which marks the beginning of Discovery Harbor, they cut

their way to a secure spot for the ship to rest in. And thus ended the

voyage to Lady Franklin Bay or Sound. As this harbor, or a spot in its

vicinity called Fort Conger, was the one where the Signal-Service

station was to be established, the steamer Proteus here ended her

voyage, soon to return to Newfoundland. Discovery Harbor, which was to

be their home, is an indentation of the bay covered by Bellot Island on

the south. This indentation extends east and west some ten miles, and is

probably two or three miles from north to south. Inclosing the harbor on

three sides is a line of rugged bluffs and hills (or rather mountains,

for they are two thousand feet high), those on the east side sloping

back gradually, but elsewhere precipitous and rugged in the extreme.

Thus, with Bellot’s Island fifteen hundred feet high on the south, was

formed a harbor, landlocked and most admirably sheltered.

VIII.

HOUSE-BUILDING AND LOCAL EXPLORATIONS.

Immediately after the explorers had anchored their ship in Discovery

Harbor, they saw a drove of musk-oxen leisurely ascending the

neighboring hills, which they climbed with the facility of goats. This

was indeed a cheerful prospect for men in so isolated a region and

without fresh meat, and many of them started forthwith in pursuit of the

game, working their way to the shore on the ice, but were compelled to

return after a vain attempt to follow the animals over the hills.

Hitherto there had been no opportunity to make any special discoveries,

but now a comparatively new field, to which the explorers were to devote

all their energies, came into view. Discovery, however, was to be always

subordinated to the duties of meteorological observations. As this

narrative proceeds, it will be seen that Lieutenant Lockwood was not

only eminently active at all times, but most successful as an explorer.

It being desirable to establish the station as near as possible to the

coal-mine on Watercourse Bay, Lockwood was dispatched with Messrs. Clay

and Ryan, to report as to the practicability of carrying out this, the

original intention. According to the map prepared by Nares, this bay

lies seven miles distant on the strait, and is separated from Discovery

Harbor by the mountain-ridge on the east, which terminates southward in

Distant Cape. They attempted the passage across these hills, following a

ravine leading in the proper direction, and had gone only a short

distance when they saw seven musk-oxen quietly grazing. Making a

_détour_, they thought to take them unawares, but soon saw them move

away to some distance up a steep incline. Expending vainly a few shots

at long range, they followed the animals up the hill, over a steep ledge

of rocks, and into a valley on the other side. Here the men halted,

concealed from view, and arranged plans for their capture. The animals

were covered by precipitous rocks on one side. Clay, Ryan, and Lockwood

approached them simultaneously on the other three sides, and thus had

them surrounded and at their mercy. Some depressions and other

irregularities of the ground enabled the hunters, by crouching low down,

to approach the game unawares. Clay firing first, the whole herd rushed

toward Lockwood’s side, closing up as it came, and, seeing him, made a

charge. Dropping on one knee, he threw his cartridges down and blazed

away with great rapidity. Many shots telling, the animals halted before

him only a few rods off, and at once attempted a flank movement; but now

Clay and Ryan closing up, the herd was check-mated. In five minutes from

the first shot every animal of the herd—five grown and two calves—lay

dead before the hunters. The hunters were sorry they had killed the

calves, but in the excitement it could hardly have been otherwise. They

then returned to the ship to report their success, and to have the

carcasses brought in. This addition to their larder was the occasion of

great joy, not only as giving a present supply of fresh meat, but in its

promise for the future; not only as a luxury, but as the only certain

means of warding off the scurvy, so much and so justly dreaded by Arctic

explorers.

After supper of that day, Lockwood, ever ready for adventure, again

started for Watercourse Bay, accompanied by Clay, Ralston, and the mate

of the Proteus. Following the small stream, which came into the harbor

at this point, for three miles, by an easy and regular ascent between

lofty mountains on either side with a slope of about forty-five degrees,

and over ground and patches of snow thrown up like potato-hills, they

reached its head, and there, fortunately, found another stream running

in the other direction. Following this, they were brought to Watercourse

Creek, which runs into Watercourse Bay. Being uncertain whether the

coal-mine, said to be on this creek, was above or below this point, they

followed the creek up-stream three miles, when, not finding it, they

retraced their steps to the point where they entered the creek, and,

finding it impossible to follow the bed, climbed the bank. Here they saw

two more musk-oxen, which they slew by strategy as before, and, opening

the carcasses with penknives, left them to be carried in. Coming near

the mouth of the creek, Lockwood saw indications of coal, and soon after

reached the exposed seam of one hundred yards’ extent by twenty-five

feet depth, distant about three fourths of a mile from the sea. This

coal is said to equal the best of Welsh production. Near here, they saw

another musk-ox, whose life they spared for the time, as they had so

much meat in store. Lockwood found, and so reported, that, though

Watercourse Bay had the merit of a near coalmine, and was nearer the

grounds of future explorations, it was not possible to use it at once

for the unloading ship without great risk and labor because of moving

ice. Discovery Harbor, though full of ice from sixteen inches to ten

feet thick, was perfectly landlocked and unobstructed. Ralston preceded

the party home, killing one musk-ox _en route_. The Arctic summer was

now at its height, lichen, moss, saxifrage, and various other little

red, yellow, and blue flowers, bright red moss, and tufts of green grass

at intervals, breaking the monotony of the somber rocks and earth. But

the enjoyment of these beauties of nature could not then be indulged in,

as all hands had to take part in unloading the ship, a labor which was

soon accomplished.

The next business in order with the explorers was to build a house, and

they selected a site facing the water, fifty feet from, and fifteen feet

above it. While this work was progressing, the men lived in tents.

On the 19th of August, all hands were sent ashore, and the Proteus

started on her return, but, passing too near Bellot Island for safety,

was caught in the ice and delayed. Lockwood made an effort to follow in

her wake with the steam-launch, but failed, because of the rapid closing

in of the great masses of broken ice and the wedging of small ice-masses

into the screw and well. The launch battled manfully with her foe, the

ice. Frequently he ran her under a full head of steam against a massive

floe, which would be shivered for a few inches, the recoil causing the

launch to roll and pitch like a little giant. In young ice she would

sometimes split a sheet for ten or fifteen yards at one impact.

Finding nothing to do while the house-building was progressing,

Lieutenants Lockwood and Kislingbury occupied themselves with tramping

after ptarmigans and other game over the mountains whose steep sides

formed the eastern entrance of the harbor, and the northern boundary.

Viewed from the house, their sides seemed gradual and their summits not

over twenty minutes’ walk. In fact, however, the sides were successions

of slopes separated by precipices, growing greater with the ascent. What

below seemed the top was only one of many that must be passed before the

real summit or divide could be attained. They reached the summit marked

by the English cairn, and from there viewed the scene below. How small

the ship appeared! and yet it seemed as though they could throw a stone

upon her. They reached home with wolfish appetites, but with no game.

The ptarmigans, which they chiefly sought, are provided, at this season,

with a coat so nearly resembling the shade of the rocks and grounds as

to be almost indistinguishable. By a happy provision of nature, in

winter the feathers of this bird become white with only a little black

about the tail.

The lieutenants then extended their excursions over the mountains on the

north side of the harbor, availing themselves of a ravine, called the

“Black Cañon,” which leads to a pretty waterfall. Climbing out of this

cañon with difficulty over loose slate and other _débris_, they found

themselves on the high backgrounds of the North Mountains. Thence moving

west over loose rock and snow, and through pools of water, they finally

came in sight of Musk-ox Bay, the western extremity of Discovery Harbor.

They then retraced their steps, reaching home without having seen a

living object bigger than an humble-bee.

On the 23d, the house was occupied, though not finished. Looking after

their supplies, they found that the foxes had made free with the

carcasses of the musk-oxen left near Watercourse Bay. Lockwood now

proceeded to superintend the laying out of the observatory, digging for

foundation pier of transit, etc. He found the ground frozen after

reaching thirty inches, which may be taken as the depth where perpetual

frost begins. The ship being still detained, but with a prospect of soon

getting off, Lockwood wrote more letters home in which he expressed an

opinion about the Proteus. Her chances of departing south were doubtful.

Detention there for the winter would be embarrassing all around, as

neither the ship nor her crew were prepared to stay, nor the explorers

able to help them through the winter.

Just before her final departure, some difficulty arose between

Lieutenants Greely and Kislingbury, which ended in the latter making a

request to be relieved from duty with the expedition, which request was

granted. One of the annoyances complained of was the rule that officers

should rise in the morning with the men, and although Lockwood advised

Kislingbury not to make any further trouble, he decided to pack up,

board the Proteus, and return home. In this, however, he was not

successful, as the steamer got away before he could reach her, and the

order for his relief was somewhat modified. After explaining his action

in this matter, Lieutenant Greely remarked that, if anything should

happen to him, he desired that Lieutenant Lockwood should have command

of the expedition. Lockwood expressed himself as very sorry for what his

fellow-officer had done, and could not understand his course of action.

As soon as the building was entirely finished, on the 27th of August,

the explorers found themselves very comfortable. The dull, cheerless

weather and monotonous life were beginning to depress the spirits of

Lockwood, but he felt that, when settled down to regular habits, he

would not find the life in the north more irksome than that he had

experienced on the Western plains of the United States. It may be

mentioned that the final opening of the house, or government station,

was commemorated by the issuing of an order from Lieutenant Greely, that

the exploring expedition along the northern coast of Greenland, which

had been marked out for Lieutenant Kislingbury as senior officer, was to

be placed in command of Lieutenant Lockwood. He now felt that the

opportunity for doing something creditable, for his own as well as his

country’s reputation, was at hand, and his feelings of depression gave

way to those of enthusiasm.

On Sunday, the 28th of August, all work was suspended, and some

appropriate notice was taken of the day. Lieutenant Greely read a

chapter in the Bible, having previously stated that any one would be

excused from attending the service who had conscientious scruples. The

supply of drinking-water having come up as an important question,

demanded attention. The water was obtained from the ice-hummocks in the

harbor. Pieces of suitable size were brought to the house on sledges and

then melted in a large metallic box near the stove, through which and

the stove ran a steam-pipe. Thus a liberal supply was kept up.

Wishing to establish a depot on the channel for future explorations,

Lockwood left with Sergeants Brainard and Cross to explore St. Patrick’s

Bay, lying northeast of the station and on the straits. The ground being

covered with snow, the Government boots were soon soaked though, and the

feet of the party became wet and cold. Following a ravine, they soon

reached a lake near the summit of the hills in the rear, where they saw

a musk-ox grazing on the bank. The animal fled on seeing them, but

stopped farther on. Approaching him under cover, Lockwood got a standing

shot and brought him down. Skinning him and dividing the carcass into

quarters, they left the meat for others to carry in and went on their

tramp, which took them midway between the “hog-back,” an elevated

plateau on the north, and the rugged broken chain of mountains which lie

between Discovery Harbor and Robeson Channel. About noon they reached

St. Patrick’s Bay, but at a point so different from that laid down in

their maps, that Lockwood felt some doubt as to its identity, to settle

which, they proceeded to explore a wide river-bed, followed by a deep

cañon, which led into the bay near its head. With this view, and to see

the country to better advantage, they kept north along the steep rocky

sides of the “hog-back,” over rocks, great and small, compact and loose,

and generally covered with snow. After two hours of laborious travel,

they found themselves high above the riverbed and in a position giving

them a good view north and east. The main stream seemed to come from the

north, with a branch from the west, the whole through lands of the most

rugged description. Beyond the river to the east, the hills were more

sloping, yet rising to an immense altitude between the river and the

channel beyond. It seemed not difficult to descend into the bed of the

river, walk up its frozen course, and, taking advantage of some break in

the cliffs a few miles up, gain by a gradual ascent the high hills

beyond, thus obtaining a view of Robeson Channel. The descent, over

rocks, stones, and snow, involving great fatigue, took two hours. This

brought them to a level terrace extending from cliffs to cliffs, through

the center of which ran a deep cut or channel containing the

insignificant stream, the sole occupant of this immense cañon. They

gained the frozen stream with difficulty, cut through the ice and got a

drink, and then regained the level terrace above, and began their steep

climb up the mountain beyond, through a friendly ravine. One hour’s work

brought them to an elevation which, at a distance, had seemed to be the

main summit, only to find that farther on there were still higher

points. Finally, at 6 P. M., they reached an elevation where the slope

seemed to be eastward, and from which a magnificent view was obtained of

the channel from Cape Lieber to Repulse Harbor, while directly east of

them lay Newman’s Bay and Polaris Promontory. After erecting a cairn,

they started back, cold and hungry, satisfied that they had seen the

true St. Patrick’s Bay.

Regaining the river-valley, they had a most fatiguing climb to attain

the pass through which they had come, and where they had killed the

musk-ox. Just east of the lake, they encountered Dr. Pavy and Rice, and

soon after Ralston and Lynn, going to Lincoln Bay _via_ St. Patrick’s

Bay. Our party reached home at midnight, with frost-bitten feet and

empty stomachs, Lockwood finding his stockings full of ice and one toe

badly frost-bitten.

He was laid up for a week with frosted feet, and had apprehension of

losing some of his toes. Although suffering greatly, he was made

especially unhappy by the thought of being disabled so early in the

campaign. Discussing the subject of scurvy with Lieutenant Greely, they

agreed in regarding the explorers much better provided against it, than

was the British expedition, in that their dietary list was more

complete. The English issued fresh beef but once a week; the Greely

Expedition three times or oftener. This expedition had also the great

advantage of a dry, warm, well-ventilated house.

Lockwood’s report as to St. Patrick’s Bay settling that as the place for

their first depot, Sergeant Brainard with others proceeded to establish

the same there by means of the whale-boat, moving around Cape Distant.

Lockwood was much annoyed that his disability prevented his being one of

those to carry out this important feature toward their future

explorations. He took advantage of his non-active condition to figure

out a design for an “ice-sledge,” which he thought would be an

improvement on the Hudson Bay sledge they had in use. Lieutenant Greely

approving the plan, he proceeded at once to build one by way of

experiment. The duty assigned to Brainard was duly accomplished, and

Depot A was established at St. Patrick’s Bay.

Having received a gentle reminder from Lieutenant Greely for

oversleeping himself, Lockwood said he could not complain, the offense

not being his first of the kind. The singular clearness of the

atmosphere had enabled him to make satisfactory sketches of Cape Lieber

and other prominent objects in the distance, and also of the house.

Among the events which made the early days of September somewhat lively

were the following: Gardiner reported a waif, in the shape of a boat

twelve feet long and an eight-men sledge, on the shore near Cape

Murchison. Lieutenant Greely with others, and Lieutenant Kislingbury as

a guest, went upon a two-days’ trip to the Bellows in search of game and

to view the land. They were successful in securing ten musk-oxen, a

dozen or more eider-ducks, and some other game. Sergeant Lynn, returning

from Cape Beechy, reported a wagon and lamp on the shore, left by the

English.

Dr. Pavy returned from Lincoln Bay, but Rice, taken on the return with

severe inflammatory rheumatism, was left four miles north of St.

Patrick’s Bay. A party was at once sent for his relief, which brought

him in, in a bad way. Great difficulty was found in lifting him up the

steep cliffs between the station and St. Patrick’s Bay.

Lockwood, having recovered from his injuries, went upon an expedition to

the Bellows with Gardiner and the Esquimaux Frederick, using an

eight-dog sledge and carrying rations for four days, consisting of

roasted musk-ox, baked beans, butter and sauce, hard bread, and

chocolate. They visited Bleak Cape, the entrance of the Bellows. The

Bellows they found to be a long, level valley, walled in by lofty hills

and cliffs, in some places two or three thousand feet high. It bears the

impress of having been, at some far-distant period, the channel of a

glacier, its level surface being thickly strewn with stones, while there

are masses attached like shelves to the sides of the cliffs and slopes.

For twenty miles, the valley preserves a width of nearly three miles;

beyond this, it narrows and changes direction toward the west. A small

creek runs through its entire length, which generally they followed. The

route was difficult, owing to the large number of stones imperfectly

covered with snow, and hence all riding ceased after they entered the

valley; for the dogs could scarcely pull the sledge and its load, and

often required aid. Here they met a piece of drift-wood, indicating that

the tide once flowed up the valley, for no tree or wood had ever been

seen away from tide-water. One of the dogs becoming sick was turned

adrift, trusting to her following the party or returning home. Reaching

“Devil’s Head,” they went into camp by turning up the sledge and hanging

rubber blankets around to shield them from the cold wind, and then ate a

supper of warmed-up beans and hot chocolate, and tumbled into the

sleeping-bags, all of which they found most enjoyable.

After a breakfast of chocolate, hard bread, and some frozen cheese, they

were delighted to see the sick dog rejoin them. The sledge-runners were

rapidly wearing out, and they concluded to walk to the end of the

valley, leaving the Esquimaux with the sledge and team while they pushed

on as best they could.

Lockwood and Gardiner reached the head of the valley at four, and,

proceeding up the incline to the west where it narrowed to a ravine,

went on till they came to a narrow gorge—its terminus. Having seen all

there was to see, and Gardiner complaining of a game leg, they retraced

their steps, reached the sledge at 10 P. M., and at once, supperless,

turned into their sleeping-bags. Near the terminus of the valley they

met two musk-oxen, but, having only their knives with them, did not

venture on an assault, though the animals stood still and quietly gazed

at the intruders.

Returning, they followed the creek, finding some advantage from the ice

which had formed during the night. Lockwood saw and took back with him a

few pieces of wood-coal, or very soft coal, evidently of recent

formation, which had doubtless washed down, but whence he knew not.

Reaching Bleak Cape, they decided to make a _détour_ west to a cañon

near the “Knife-edge,” where the musk-oxen were killed by Lieutenant

Greely and party a few days before; but no musk-ox, dead or alive, was

to be seen. Gardiner being still lame, Lockwood abandoned some other

objects he had in view in making this trip, and, striking out directly

across the bay and riding on the sledge, they reached the station

without incident.

Dr. Pavy made an unsuccessful attempt to reach an estuary at the head of

Lady Franklin Bay, from which Lieutenant Greely thought a passage might

be forced westward to a supposed fiord or sea connected with the waters

leading through Behring Strait into the Pacific Ocean. Unfortunately,

finding Lady Franklin Bay open beyond Stony Point, the doctor returned

without settling this interesting question, which, as will be seen,

Lieutenant Lockwood afterward solved.

Sixteen, or more, large Arctic wolves were seen in one day on the ice, a

few hundred yards from the house. These were the first seen by them; the

English saw none here, nor do Kane, Hayes, or Hall mention them. These

wolves are large, strong, fierce-looking beasts, perfectly white in

color, and anything but desirable customers to meet.

Lieutenant Greely, and Sergeants Brainard, Bender, and Connell, left on

an exploration above and beyond “North Valley,” a deep cañon cutting

through the “hog’s back” north of the station. They left without

sledges, carrying six days’ rations, sleeping-bags, etc. Following the

“North Valley” upward, and leaving it near its head, they soon found

themselves in a water-course running toward St. Patrick’s Bay. Turning

westward, and going some distance, they came in sight of what they

regarded as the United States Range; but, a heavy snow-storm coming on,

they cut short the trip after traveling twenty-five miles, and returned.

It was deemed unfortunate that the untoward weather prevented their

getting a good view from that range. The absence of glaciers and large

water-courses, the low altitude of the range, and many other features in

that region, all seemed to indicate a large sea not far to the westward.

The building of Lockwood’s sledge turned out a failure, for the want of

proper appliances.

On the 17th of September, the party celebrated Whistler’s birthday by a

dinner of his own selection—oyster soup, roast musk-ox, potatoes, corn,

pear-butter, cake, etc., and a glass of grog in the evening. Two-story

bunks were built for the men, giving more room. The Signal-Service

men—the observers—had a little corner partitioned off, where they were

to sleep and work. Another corner was fitted as a wash-room, where warm

water might be had, and where there was a bath-tub, which all were

expected to use every week. Other arrangements had been provided

productive of comfort and health. Lockwood’s time was now chiefly

occupied in drawing maps, making finished drawings from sketches,

reading, and sledge-work.

Dr. Pavy, with a party, went to take provisions to the depots, but

failed to get round Cape Murchison. Not satisfying Lieutenant Greely,

the latter himself undertook the task, and, after considerable

difficulty, in which the sledge broke down, succeeded. On the 21st the

sun presented a remarkable appearance, having rainbows to the right and

left, which nearly joined above; also radiating vertical and horizontal

beams of light.

Lieutenant Kislingbury, after many futile efforts with arsenic,

succeeded in poisoning many wolves with strychnine. Five of them bit the

dust at one time, and by this means the party was able to get rid of

these dangerous neighbors. This animal, as stated, is perfectly white,

and is not unlike the Esquimaux dog, but larger and more formidable.

On the 24th of September, Lockwood started on a trip to Cape Beechy with

Ellis, Fredericks, Ralston, Biederbick, and one large sledge, to

provision Depot “A,” distant twenty miles. They started with two hundred

and fifty pounds on the sledge, intending to take on other food left

near Cape Distant. Their passage around this cape was accomplished only

after cutting away masses of ice. Beyond this, and with their load

increased to three hundred and fifty pounds, they struck masses of rocks

over which the sledge and load had to be lifted. There they left the

photograph apparatus for Rice, and took lunch. Afterward they passed

Watercourse Bay, and the English wagon lying on the shore, and halted

for the night at 6 P. M. at Cape Murchison, without any remonstrance on

the part of the tired-out men, notwithstanding some of them, about noon,

had proposed going on to Cape Beechy without a stop. Indeed, Lockwood

observed anxious faces among them when he hesitated about stopping.

Floe-bergs of every form and shape—square, oblong, round, and

pyramidal—from ten to forty feet high, were scattered along the shore.

Without the barrier afforded by these, the floating floe, moving with

the noise of railroad-trains, would cut away the foot-ice and render

travel impossible. Using the tent at Depot “A,” and the bedding, etc.,

there, they got supper over the spirit-lamp and crawled into their

sleeping-bags. The cold, cramped position, and dropping of congealed

moisture from the tent, robbed them of sleep; hence they rose at 5.20,

little refreshed. Beautiful “sun-dogs” were noticed with the rising of

the sun across the strait. Toward noon similar appearances, peculiar to

the Arctic sun, were still more remarkable—rainbows on either side, and

joined above the sun, while vertical and horizontal beams of white light

pierced the sun. They passed St. Patrick’s Bay, and, after a hard and

cold day’s work, reached Depot “B,” south of Mount Bufort and a little

farther south of Cape Beechy, at 3 P. M., the 25th. On the following

day, dragging an empty sledge, they returned to the _cache_ at St.

Patrick’s Bay, loaded up with three hundred and fifty pounds, and

returned to Depot “B,” tired, cold, and wet with perspiration, this last

being, perhaps, the greatest obstacle to Arctic travel. The great

exertion soon induces perspiration, which being checked when labor

ceases, you are at once sensible of cold water and ice at the same time.

It was rare to have anything entirely dry after the first day of work.

The sole resource was to use the heat of the body in the sleeping-bags

at night. Mittens and socks were the most important to keep dry, and the

most difficult. Their lamps being imperfect, they found a difficulty in

preparing their chocolate. The alcohol took fire below and filled the

tent with fumes quite as unpleasant as the cold. Having left their tin

plates behind, they had to eat from one dish. Eating was simply

cramming, that their benumbed fingers might give up the cold spoons and

return to the warm pockets. Yet with all these discomforts they ate

heartily, and with appetites unknown elsewhere than in the Arctic

regions; and, notwithstanding dirt, cold, and alcoholic fumes, they had

their jokes and songs while lying in their sleeping-bags, trying to keep

warm and get to sleep. But their ills did not end there, for whenever

the canvas was shaken, frost-like snow—condensed vapor—fell upon them,

which melted with the lighting of the lamp in the morning. Truly, this

was a rough road to glory and fame!

Two of the men, in consequence of the crowded tent, had to sleep outside

with the thermometer at -15°, and left without breakfast, to return to

the station. The party soon followed them, and, after stopping at St.

Patrick’s Bay to take on a log of driftwood observed there, which gave

them an additional pull of five miles, reached the station long after

dark. Having taken something to eat and drink, they got into their warm

and dry beds, which never felt more comfortable.

The next man to command a party was Dr. Pavy, who had in view a

long-projected trip to Cape Joseph Henry, with the object of carrying

out the wishes of the Navy Department, that a search should be made

there for the Jeannette, and a signal placed indicating that help was

near at hand; another object was to establish a depot for spring

operations. His force consisted of the Esquimaux Jans, Whistler, and two

dog-teams. His “constant weight” was two hundred pounds, and he took

rations for twenty days. He counted upon other rations at Lincoln Bay

left by the English, and those nearer home left by Greely’s men at Depot

“B,” near Cape Beechy. He hoped with these to establish a depot near the

place where the Alert had her winter quarters, and thus be ready in the

spring to surpass Markham. Lockwood was inclined to think the doctor a

little too anxious to retain personal comfort while exploring, to

accomplish much. He had been convinced that sledge-journeys of any

considerable extent in those high latitudes could be made only by the

sacrifice of every personal comfort.

On the 2d of October, there was a remarkable and beautiful sunset. The

lower part of the picture was formed by the clear white ice of the

harbor westward. Then came the distant mountains, whose snow-capped

summits reached into a sky of beautiful green; above, a line of gold,

and then blue and gold alternating, and finally the deep-blue vault

studded with masses of red—on the whole a most gorgeous spectacle.

Finding this inactive life monotonous, Lockwood started on an

exploration of the streams which enter St. Patrick’s Bay from the north.

Lynn, Bender, Saler, Henry, and himself constituted the party, and they

proposed going by way of the gap through the mountains rather than

around Distant Cape. They had not gone far before they regretted having

taken this short cut, for they found the way exceedingly laborious from

want of snow—so much so, that they were six hours in reaching the steep,

rocky bluffs which overlook St. Patrick’s Bay and the valley at the

north of it, and they were two more before reaching the level of the

bay. Indeed, this was only attained by carrying their load piece by

piece down the cliffs and letting the sledge down by ropes. Here they

put up their tent and went into camp. Unfortunately, they had neglected

to bring candles, and hence had to eat their meal in darkness. Lockwood

and Saler occupied one sleeping-bag, while the others were in another.

They passed the night cold and sleepless. There being a birthday dinner

at the station, they had intended to walk back to it, a distance of

seven miles, but, on account of the condition of the way, abandoned the

idea.

Getting off at an early hour after a cold breakfast, and reaching the

bed of the water-course, they made their way over its stony bed, so

lightly covered with snow as to rapidly grind away the sledge-runners,

up the cañon, as grand as the stream was insignificant. Finding their

progress so much impeded, they left the sledge behind and made their way

without it. The cold being intense, to keep up circulation they walked

rapidly, but suffered greatly in their feet and hands. Having

volunteered for this expedition, they were ashamed to give it up, though

often disposed to do so. Thus, for three tiresome hours, they kept on

their way, either following the bed of the stream, or along the

mesa-like formations, which projected like shelves from the

mountain-sides. Finally, the valley and mesas alike disappearing, the

stream entered a narrow gorge. Gaining an eminence, the further course

of the stream was indicated to them, and its probable terminus in

table-lands of great elevation seen in the distance. Returning by the

bed of the stream until the valley had attained a width of half a mile,

they entered from the west a very picturesque cañon thirty feet wide

with walls one hundred feet high. Its walls were worn smooth, as though

by the action of ice, and there were small, basin-shaped holes

apparently made by bowlders caught by glaciers. They also met with

blocks of quartz much larger than could possibly be moved by the force

of any body of water now passing through the cañon. Notwithstanding

their exhausted condition, and the worn state of their foot-gear from

the numerous stones and rough ice they had passed over, they concluded

not to spend the night where they had left the sledge, but to go on to

Depot “A,” near Cape Murchison. Adding their outfit to that of the

depot, they had a night of less discomfort than usual. On passing Cape

Distant, they noticed a broad channel of open water in the strait,

preventing any passage at that time.

On reaching the station, they found that the temperature had been -16°,

and it was probably 4° lower where they had been. Lieutenant Greely was

putting in order a variety of reading-matter for the men. Sergeant

Brainard was absent at the Bellows, with Rice and Bender, after musk-ox

meat. They returned later, badly frosted, but brought the meat to within

easy sledging distance.

The 7th of October, being Mrs. Greely’s birthday, was celebrated with a

dinner made regal by the following-named dishes: gumbo-soup, biscuits,

old sherry, Columbia River salmon with sauce sauterne, boiled ham,

asparagus, sago, corn, lima-beans, cold bread, chocolate cake,

strawberry and pineapple ice-cream, dates, figs, grapes, prunes, candied

fruits, coffee, and Benedictine.

In Payer’s “History of the Austrian Expedition to Franz-Josef Land,”

Lockwood found much of interest in connection with the requirements for

a sledge-journey—details of clothing and other matters best suited to

fit one to stand the cold. The book he considered of great value to any

novice in Arctic sledging. He supposed that they themselves were much

better off than any expedition that had wintered within the Arctic

Circle. The most serious difficulties—dampness, want of ventilation, and

darkness—were reduced with them to a minimum, while of fresh meat,

anti-scorbutics, and fuel they had an abundance; and if their assortment

of clothing—particularly foot-gear—had been better, they would have had

nothing to desire.

Besides the large stock of coal left by the Proteus, they had the

coal-mine within ten miles. The men seemed comfortable and contented.

They had a bathroom and bath-tub, with hot and cold water ready at hand,

and books and periodicals in abundance. Their heating arrangements were

generally perfect and quite effectual. The light from the sun amounted

to little, and artificial light within-doors was required all day; but

with a full moon, bright sky, and everything covered with snow, they had

a flood of light almost an equivalent. They had musk-ox meat almost

every day, and a large store on hand. They also had a large supply of

the best pork, lime-juice, cider, sour-krout, pickles, onions and

cucumbers mixed, and other anti-scorbutics. The men were comfortable,

seemed happy and cheerful, and found many sources of amusement—among

others, from an anti-swearing society. Delinquents were fined five cents

each, the proceeds to pay for a grand dinner on returning to the United

States. Several members incurred such enormous fines as to become

bankrupt, and were expelled. These outcasts lay around and beguiled the

unwary, thus affording amusement to all except the victim. Rice and

Israel had a way of carrying on ridiculous discussions. One evening they

had an apparently angry dialogue, in which Rice personated a tipsy

lodger complaining of the fare and demanding his bill, and Israel, an

insulted landlord. Both seemed entirely in earnest, and kept their

countenances amid roars of laughter and gibes from the men.

IX.

PRELIMINARY SLEDGE EXPEDITIONS AND LIFE AT THE STATION.

Among the amusements which helped to kill time at the station of

Discovery Harbor, officially called Fort Conger, was that of celebrating

certain birthdays, and this chapter begins with what was done when

Lieutenant Lockwood attained his twenty-ninth year. He confessed that he

did not wish a “happy return of the day” in the Arctic regions, and yet

he would be contented if they should all be as pleasant as the one just

experienced, in spite of the cold winds, ice, snow, darkness, and

anticipations of exposure and fatigue when his spring travels should

begin. He spent most of the day in sewing canvas leggings to his

moccasins and altering his trousers, while Lieutenant Greely entertained

him with recollections of his army experience during the rebellion,

fighting his battles over again. His birthday dinner was something quite

formidable, consisting of:

Pea soup à la Proteus,

Scalloped oysters à la Eastern Shore,

Deviled crabs à la Chesapeake,

Musk-ox à la Franklin Bay,

Potatoes à l’Irlandaise,

Macaroni à l’Italienne,

Rice and curry à la Pacific Mail,

Blanc-mange, fruits, nuts, cake, ice-cream, and black coffee.

Lieutenant Greely kindly added, from private stores, some very good

California port wine. Lockwood’s reflections, however, carried him to

his distant home, and he longed to know that all there were well—that

his dear parents and sisters were happy as when he was with them!

Perhaps, even at that hour, their thoughts and words were of him. On

this day, as frequently on his sledging journeys, he pictured to himself

the family circle in the far-off home. The cold, fatigue, and monotony

attending him and his companions were rendered endurable by thus

breaking away from the present.

On the morning of the 10th of October, Lockwood started on a trip with

Jewell across Lady Franklin Bay for Cape Baird. Had no difficulty for a

mile or two beyond Dutch Island, but mist and fog then obscuring their

way and blotting out the landscape, they kept on their course by

compass. Soon they encountered heavy snow-drifts and many floe-bergs and

fields of rubble-ice, all unfavorable for sledging. Fortunately, they

had only themselves to transport. Though the weather was cold, they soon

found themselves oppressively warm from the labor attending the journey.

Profiting by past experience, Lockwood had this time come out warmly

dressed—viz., with two flannel shirts, a woolen jersey, an under-shirt

of light buckskin, heavy woolen drawers, a seal-skin over-all, and two

pairs of socks under light buckskin moccasins. He then became convinced,

that it was quite as great a mistake to wear too much as too little

clothing. Even when they could ride on the sledge, which was not often,

there were numerous bad places where they had to run with the dogs and

lift the sledge over obstacles. Trying to avoid the moving ice, they

struck too far westward, so that when they approached land they found

themselves some two miles within the cape for which they had started.

Stopping only to take a bite of crackers and meat, they started to

retrace their steps, but not before daylight had left them, and they had

only the moon to show them the way. After some time they thought to

reduce the distance by taking what they supposed was a short cut, but

soon found themselves scrambling over hummocky ice of the most

formidable character. They regained their track, but not till overcome

by thirst and fatigue. Resting at short intervals, they finally came in

sight of Dutch Island, and soon afterward were gladdened by the sound of

distant shouts. Dr. Pavy and Sergeants Brainard and Connell had come out

to meet them, and not empty-handed, for they bore a bag of hot coffee,

and never did coffee taste more delicious. Though the mercury was nearly

nine degrees below zero, when they reached the house everything they had

on was as wet as if they had fallen overboard.

The result of that reconnaissance was that they decided to establish a

“depot” near Cape Baird, which labor was duly carried out by Lockwood,

Ellis, Saler, and Bender. The weather being open, they started directly

for Cape Baird, but, finding that route impracticable, inclined westward

and got into their old track. After much delay and great labor, they

reached a point on the farther side, where they found it necessary to

encamp for the night. The tent was pitched, chocolate boiled, and beans

thawed out, after which they crawled into their sleeping-bags, trying to

forget, if possible, that the thermometer stood at -24° without.

Resuming their journey, but now with the discomfort of wind added to

intense cold, they made their way ashore, established the depot of

provisions, and with lightened sledges and hearts retraced their steps.

Noses were frozen during the day, and only restored by friction, which

made them raw and uncomfortable. Very soon after starting back, twilight

disappeared, and they had only the moon to light them on their way.

Passing the resting-place of the previous night, they concluded to make

the journey to the house without stopping. They stumbled on in the dark,

a used-up party, Lockwood having a sprained tendon Achilles, and also a

lame back. The air becoming calm, they were enabled to stop sometimes

and rest, which they could not have safely done in their perspiring

condition had the wind been blowing. When near Dutch Island, Dr. Pavy

and Lieutenant Kislingbury met them with hot coffee, which so much

refreshed them that the rest of the journey seemed easy, although it was

probable that Lockwood’s raw red nose, frosted toes, lame back, and

tender heel, would be reminders of this trip for a long time.

On the 16th of October the sun disappeared, to rise no more until

February. With the mercury ranging from -28° to -40°, Lockwood amused

himself by scraping off the accumulated condensation of moisture from

the room on the window-panes near his corner, the ice being one inch

thick.

About this time Lockwood took up a course of Arctic literature, with

which they were liberally supplied. This was chiefly in view of his

sledge-journey in the coming spring. Feeling the need of exercise, he

left the station on the 23d for Depot “B,” Cape Beechy, with Brainard,

Connell, and the Esquimaux Frederick, and a sledge with eight dogs. At

Depot “A” they took on a small stove and a bag of coal from the mines,

and thereby the tent at Depot “B” became more comfortable than anything

they had experienced away from the station; notwithstanding, they had a

comfortless night, as the crowded condition of the tent compelled some

of them to lie so near the stove as to endanger their safety. Lockwood

woke up to find a large hole burned in his blanket. Afterward, the fire

going out, they suffered more than when they had had no fire at all.

They erected a snow-house for a depot here, forming the sides of tough

blocks of compact snow, and covering it with the boat-sail supported by

oars, and, by imitating the natives in some particulars, had a house

impervious to cold.

While there, Lockwood, with Brainard, ascended Mount Bufort, near at

hand, and had an uninterrupted view of the straits as far down as Cape

Lieber, and of the opposite coast, between which and them hung

water-clouds, indicating open water. This fact was also indicated by the

roar, like a moving railroad-train, made by the crushing of the ice in

the current. Having passed another night in their warm snow-house, they

made their way next day to the station in less than five hours, and

found all hands there engaged in erecting an ice wall around the house

as high as the eaves, and filling in with snow. This proved most

effectual in keeping the house warm.

Lieutenant Greely had an uncomfortable experience while assisting to

make a tide-gauge. He fell in and got a ducking—not his first experience

in that direction. Wolves were daily seen near the house, and were so

bold and fearless that the men deemed it prudent never to leave the

building without fire-arms; for, as the animals were of the same color

as the snow, they could not be easily distinguished.

On the 29th, a singular aurora made its appearance, consisting of a

ribbon of white light a degree wide, stretching through the zenith from

north to south; then another arch, 10° westward, whose base touched the

first; and still another, also passing through the zenith, and cutting

the others at right angles.

On the 30th, Lockwood commenced preparations for a preliminary journey

to Hall’s winter quarters, whenever the straits could be crossed and the

weather and light were suitable. Among other things, the saddler,

Fredericks, made a tent to hold eight men, using to that end two common

“A” tents.

About this time, while cogitating on his room and room-mates, Lockwood

said: “Surely this is a happy quartet occupying this room! We often sit

silent during the whole day, and even a meal fails to elicit anything

more than a chance remark or two. A charming prospect for four months of

darkness, such gloom within, and penned up as we are in one room! I have

doubts of getting over the straits, but I must be off as soon as

possible, for I find a relief in getting away.”

Lieutenant Greely had felt himself compelled to show his dissatisfaction

with Dr. Pavy’s explorations, or rather attempted explorations. He and

the doctor had also adverse views as to how explorations should be made.

The doctor wanted to take along many creature comforts, while Greely

thought, with Lockwood, that nothing could be accomplished without

sacrificing all beyond bare necessities.

Having everything complete, Lockwood started on the 1st of November to

try the passage of the straits, with Brainard, Lynn, Saler, Biederbick,

Ellis, Fredericks, and Connell, dragging an eight-man sledge, weighing,

with load, one thousand pounds. They left sledge and load beyond Cape

Distant, and returned to lodge at the house, where all hands fortified

themselves with a first-class dinner, preparatory to the labors of the

next day.

They got off early, but, owing to the limited light and other

difficulties, found themselves some distance from the snow-house near

Cape Beechy when darkness overtook them. Having all in readiness on the

4th, they again got off, leaving Ellis at the snow-house with an injured

foot. This was unfortunate, as he was a strong, willing fellow, with

lots of pluck. The prospects of crossing the straits at this time were

not encouraging, both from the short duration of light and from the open

waters. Still, they determined to make the effort. This they first did

with the whale-boat, which they had picked up on their route. They

mounted it on the sledge, but soon found they could not drag so heavy a

body, and returned to the snow-house. Rice, whom they found there, was

then sent with a dog-sledge to bring up a small boat from Cape

Murchison. Dr. Pavy, Lieutenant Kislingbury, and Jans coming along _en

route_ for another attempt northward, were surprised to see how

comfortable they were in the snow-house.

After extensive repairs to the small boat, they again got off at noon,

seven men and Lockwood himself dragging the sledge, on which were the

boat and one hundred and fourteen pounds of rations. On reaching open

water, three only were to proceed in the boat, the others to fall back

on the snow-house. They got along pretty well until they came to the

hummocks, through which, with extreme labor, and frequently using an

axe, they made their way, till they heard, in the distance toward

Polaris Promontory, the roar of the grinding ice, indicating open water.

Moving on ahead of the party over very rough ice, and crossing some wet,

slushy ice fifteen or twenty yards wide, Lockwood found himself on a

level floe. He had gone only a short distance over this toward a dark

streak beyond, which he took for open water, when he found that the floe

upon which he stood was in motion. Retreating over the bed of slushy

ice, he found this to be really only a thick mass of broken pieces

intermediate between the moving floe and the firm ice. He could readily

thrust his ice-hook down through it to the water beneath, and did so.

Reaching the sledge-party, and viewing the difficulties of the

situation, he decided, all agreeing, on the impracticability of crossing

at this season. They accordingly displayed signal-torches from the top

of an iceberg, as agreed upon, that Lieutenant Greely might know that

they had found the crossing dangerous and had abandoned the effort. They

returned in darkness, and with considerable difficulty, guided somewhat

by a signal-torch displayed by Ellis at the snow-house. They remained

all day at the snow-house, which the men found so comfortable that they

preferred it to the restraints of the station. At noon Lockwood and

Brainard went upon a tramp, and found the condition of the open water to

be such as to demonstrate the wisdom of their return the evening before.

The men made some additions to the snow-house, which were regarded as a

great success. The return to the station on the 7th was attended with

more difficulty and labor than had been expected, arising from a strong

south wind having worn away the foot-ice, and the small amount of light;

hence, they soon had wet feet, which in that region always means

frost-bitten feet. So much were some of the men used up by this journey

of twenty miles, which had before been made in one day, that they had to

be conveyed on the sledge, and did not reach the station till the third

day. At Dutch Island they met Whistler, who, missing Biederbick at the

ropes and seeing a human form on the sledge, came to the conclusion that

Biederbick was dead, and repeatedly exclaimed, “Poor Biederbick! poor

Biederbick!”

During a period of dullness at the station, Rice and Henry projected a

newspaper, to be called the “Arctic Moon,” and Lockwood, to whom, also,

the idea had occurred, agreed to join them as one of the editors. They

wanted something to dispel the monotony which was depressing all hands,

as all were tired of reading, of cards and other games, while two of

Lockwood’s room-mates were gloomy and taciturn. To counteract this, he

resumed his reading, especially history and travels—anything but novels.

Kane’s work interested him especially, and he considered him a

remarkable man, courageous, energetic, and determined. Their own manner

of life just then reminded Lockwood of a rainy day in the country

intensified. “Yet,” says he, “why not be contented? Books and leisure

afford an opportunity for reading and studying which we may never have

again. We have a warm, comfortable house, plenty of food, and other

things which many are without. Life in this world is just what one

chooses to make it. Man can make of it a heaven or a hell.” He felt

anxious as to the effect of one hundred and thirty sunless days upon

himself and men, as this might tell on their sledging in the coming

spring. Nares’s people broke down under it, and, when sledging, were

decimated by the scurvy. They themselves were fortunate so far in not

having had a single man sick enough to keep his bed.

True to his intellectual instincts, Lockwood formed a class in geography

and grammar, consisting of Ellison, Bender, Connell, and Whistler, while

Lieutenant Greely taught them arithmetic. On the 22d of November

appeared, with a flourish of trumpets, the first number of the “Arctic

Moon.” Of course the editors thought it a great success. It had for the

frontispiece a sketch of the house, drawn by Lockwood, while Rice made

fair copies of the paper by the hectograph process—enough for all, and

many to spare.

These trifles served to shorten, apparently, the many hours of gloom and

darkness, which were wearing away the spirits of all. The men were now

far less hilarious than they had been, and, with the game of chess to

assist, silence reigned supreme.

Thanksgiving-day, with its games, sports, and dinner, gave them a

pleasant variety. First, came the snow-shoe race of one hundred yards,

Brainard, victor. Next, the foot-race, with many contestants, but Ellis

coming out ahead. Then the dog-team race to Dutch Island and return,

under the Esquimaux Jans and Frederick, the latter, victor. And,

finally, a shooting-match, necessarily at short range, and with torches,

Henry, victor. These and other out-door exercises were followed by the

grand feature of the day, the Thanksgiving dinner, and not a poor one

either, even for a lower latitude than eighty-two degrees. In the

evening Lieutenant Greely gave out prizes to the victors and second

best, Rice acting as master of ceremonies, rigged out in swallow-tail

coat, black pantaloons, white vest, and “boiled” shirt. The mercury

froze on that day, and Lieutenant Greely brought in a teacupful, which

looked like lead as it comes from the mold. The moon also made its

appearance, and all fully appreciated the blessing of this luminary.

“What a change,” exclaimed Lockwood, “when she comes forth in all her

beauty and loveliness, flooding the landscape with her refulgent beams

and cheering the drooping spirits of benighted mortals! Even the poor

dogs feel her influence!” On the 1st of December, they had an almost

total eclipse of the moon, more remarkable there than an eclipse of the

sun elsewhere. During the phenomenon, the exposed part of the disk was

of a dull-red color. Lockwood took the altitude of the moon while

crossing the meridian, using a saucer of molasses as an artificial

horizon. She flooded the whole region with a light, electric in

appearance, and causing deep shadows. In the evening they were treated

to a display of mock moons, with a circular band of bright light

connecting them, and several bands or ribbons of light at various

angles, but all passing through the moon.

The Esquimaux, Jans and Frederick, having of late been much depressed,

efforts were made by kindly attentions on the part of Lieutenant Greely

and others to dispel their gloom and assure them of the friendly feeling

entertained toward them by all. These good offices, however, all failed.

Dr. Pavy said this state of mind was not infrequent among the natives of

lower Greenland, and often resulted in the wandering off of the subjects

of it, and, if not followed, by their perishing in the cold. One morning

Jans was missing, and at once his tracks were followed by Dr. Pavy,

Brainard, Rice, and Whistler, with the dog-sledge. Late in the afternoon

they returned with poor Jans, who was found nine miles away, following

at a rapid pace the ice-foot around Cape Murchison. He returned

unwillingly, and gave no reason for his strange conduct. Rice and

Whistler were both rendered _hors de combat_ by the journey, the former

by a fall from an ice-hummock, the latter by congestion of the brain

owing to having shaved before going out. Both Dr. Kane and Dr. Rink (in

his book on Greenland) refer to hallucinations similar to that of Jans,

and the frequent fatal consequences.

On the 14th of December appeared the second number of the “Arctic Moon,”

which was thought to be an improvement on number one, and was well

received. Lieutenant Greely gave a lecture on the “Polar Question.”

On the same day also, Esquimaux Frederick came to Lieutenant Greely and

asked permission to leave the station, and, when asked why, said some

one was going to shoot him—a strange hallucination!

On the 20th Lockwood writes: “The sun now begins his journey to the

north; the backbone of the winter is broken! Walking out at noon to-day,

I was just able to see the hands of my watch by holding it close to my

eye. The profound silence of this region is quite as striking, and

almost as disagreeable, as the darkness. Standing still, one can almost

hear his heart beat. The sense of solitude is sublime.” Speaking of

Arctic literature, he says that “Hayes’ book, though beautifully

written, is far below that of Kane as to information and reliability. No

one who has been up Smith’s Sound can fail to notice this.”

On the 24th of December, after eating a birthday dinner, the Christmas

presents from an unknown friend to every one of the party, were

distributed. The rooms were appropriately decorated, and everything was

done to render the occasion cheerful and pleasant. Those articles not

specifically assigned by the donor were disposed of by lottery.

Lockwood indulged in the following reflections: “How suggestive of home

and of the dear ones there! How often do my thoughts wander away to

them! Has Providence been equally kind to them as to me? The day with me

suggests alternately the past and the future. Will next Christmas find

me here, with everything around as auspicious as now, and shall I then

be able to look back with satisfaction and self-complacency on my labors

along the Greenland coast? Or will the future bring a record of dreams

unsatisfied, of efforts unproductive, of labor in vain? My mind is far

away with that group at home assembled together and doubtless regretting

that the absent one is not of their number. Could I but see them for an

hour, or know that all is well with them, I should rejoice, indeed!”

The “Lime-Juice Club” gave an entertainment on the same evening, at

which Snyder affected Jans to tears by his personation of an Esquimaux

lady, and Connell brought down the house as a martinet captain, by

exclaiming, when a soldier who had shot himself was brought in: “Very

sad affair, very sad, indeed! Charge him with two cartridges expended,

Sergeant.”

Lieutenant Greely also gave the party as a lecture, “Reminiscences of

the Battle of Fredericksburg,” which was interesting and two hours long,

though entirely _ex tempore_; and Lockwood was announced to lecture on

“Arctic Sledging.”

On the 31st, rations of rum were issued to help the men welcome in the

new year. They were also to fire a salute with rifles. Fiddles were in

full blast, with singing and other marks of hilarity.

Lockwood’s lecture on “Arctic Sledging” was given January 3, 1882, and

was well received. Being confirmed in his opinion that he was no public

speaker, he intended to leave lecturing for others thereafter. On the

9th he took his usual walk, notwithstanding the thermometer was at 60°

below zero, and felt the cold chiefly on his nose. It seemed curious to

him, that when the thermometer was lowest, the air was stillest. Were it

otherwise, he supposed existence in the Arctic would be an

impossibility.

But severe as was the weather, it did not deter him from the study of

science, as will be seen by the following record, made on the 9th of

January: “I have been looking up the subject of nautical astronomy for

some time past, and to-day and this evening, taking sextant, mercury,

etc., and establishing an observatory on top of an old barrel in front

of the house, commenced observations on the transit of Markab, Capella,

and other stars, but have not been very successful. Everything conspires

against one in this climate. It reminds me of my observations last

spring. However, I hope by dint of practice to do better. The winter is

passing away slowly but surely. The time is coming when I shall look at

these stars from grassy fields, on a summer night, in the temperate

zone, I hope. The stars up here are very bright, and a great many of

them circle around the pole and never set. It is a beautiful sight.

Arcturus, Aldebaran, and others, besides being very bright, show

different colors, red, violet, and green. Jupiter looks immense.”

Still absorbed with his astronomical studies, he gives us the following

on the 13th of the same month: “The moon appeared after noon. How

welcome she is! How a poet would rave over the moon could he once

experience a polar winter!—not simply an Arctic winter, for anywhere

north of the Arctic Circle is the Arctic, and the dark days which most

expeditions have seen are trifling compared with ours. I think it would

be a good idea to exile a first-class poet into these regions for the

purpose, but give him to understand he was never to return. How he would

sing!”

On the 12th, they had a phenomenon they had never heard of—the

precipitation of vapor with a perfectly clear sky. It resembled a heavy

mist or light rain.

On the 16th occurred the first hurricane of the season. It began in the

morning with heavy south wind and sudden fall of barometer. At noon the

wind whipped round to the northeast and blew with indescribable fury,

filling the air with snow-drifts, and blotting out the view of

everything even a few feet distant. The anemometer registered sixty-five

miles, and then broke down. The noise of the storm, as heard from the

house, was as though on shipboard. It must have given way but for the

ice walls around it.

On the 20th, Lieutenant Greely issued a circular letter, calling

attention to the order that all should be up for breakfast. Kislingbury

and Dr. Pavy took exceptions to this, and the latter declined to lecture

in his turn.

The next evening occurred a beautiful and unique auroral display, the

chief features of which were many broad bands of pure white passing

through the zenith and reaching to the east and to the west horizon,

which blended, twisted, and curled in upon each other in a very

remarkable manner. The spectacle was viewed with wonder and amazement.

On the 26th, the twilight at noonday was quite bright. The moon also

lent her aid; but low spirits and a sense of oppression and homesickness

prevailed, all induced, doubtless, by want of exercise, and loneliness.

“Another twenty-four hours,” wrote Lockwood, on the 6th of February, “of

this interminable night nearly gone! Thank God! Sometimes it seems as if

this life must hold on forever, but _tempus fugit_ up here as well as

elsewhere. The days and weeks seem weeks and months in passing, and yet,

in the retrospect, time seems to have passed quickly, because there is

so little in the past to mark its progress, I suppose.”

Lockwood could not realize the extreme cold, and seldom wore his gloves

when going out for a few minutes. Though he put on a thick dog-skin coat

and seal-skin over-all when taking his daily walk, he really did not

regard so much clothing necessary. Exposure to such low temperatures,

however, for several hours, and particularly at night, was to be

dreaded. Many authorities—among others Lieutenant Greely—spoke of a

peculiar sensation in the throat on first encountering a very low

temperature, as when going out of doors from a warm room, but such was

not Lockwood’s experience. Provided it was calm, he could stand any

degree of cold he had yet met with. Owing to the peculiar and admirable

construction of their house, the men were able to keep up 50° of heat

within, however cold without.

On the 13th of February, Lockwood with two men went to see what damage

had resulted from the late storm to the observatory on the summit of

Bellot Island. Contrary to their expectations, they found the snow not

only deep, but with a crust just firm enough _not_ to bear.

Consequently, they sent the dog-sledge back, and proceeded on foot,

frequently sinking down knee-deep. Though the thermometer stood at -65°,

they got into a profuse perspiration, which was not lessened by the

steep and slippery ascent of two thousand feet. From this point the

station-house seemed only a black spot, and was hardly recognizable as a

house. Having made their inspection and fired their rifles several times

as agreed upon with Lieutenant Greely, who was experimenting on sound,

they returned. The result of these experiments was, that at -65° sound

travels nine hundred and fifty feet per second. This was the coldest day

they had yet experienced, and still they did not suffer with the cold.

The return to a warm house was an indescribable comfort, and Lockwood

thought that if this could always be done, Arctic journeying would then

be nothing. It was unprecedentedly cold even for that latitude. Pure

brandy and also glycerine were frozen hard. The poor dogs suffered, yet

many of them preferred to remain curled up on the snow-banks outside, to

occupying the tent and holes prepared for them.

On the 19th, Lockwood made a dog-sledge trip with Brainard and the

Esquimaux Frederick to Depot “B,” to look for a good place to cross the

straits. Found that the snow had drifted so as to form a continuous

inclined plane from the bluffs far outside the snow-house and tent, thus

almost concealing them. They recognized the spot only by seeing the

stovepipe jutting above the snow. Knowing how the mouth of the tunnel

lay from this point, they dug through the hard, compact snow, cleared

out the tunnel, and soon found themselves within the snow-house. The

little stove was swallowed up in a cone of snow reaching from roof to

floor. This had drifted through a small aperture where the pipe pierced

the roof. The fire going out after they turned in, the room became

extremely damp and chilly. However, they made up for the discomforts of

the night by a rousing fire in the morning, over which they got up a

grand breakfast of musk-ox steak, beans, coffee, and hard-tack. They

next sent the team with Frederick down to St. Patrick’s Bay for a bag of

coal, while Lockwood and Brainard walked over the straits toward Polaris

Promontory. Going out some four or five miles over ice of varied nature,

some exceedingly broken and hummocky and some quite level, they

returned, satisfied that the time for crossing over was not yet.

Frederick had, in the mean time, returned, mended up the hole in the

roof, made a good fire, and prepared a warm meal.

They again started out to test the important passage, taking a route

farther north. There the rubble-ice reached only two hundred yards from

the shore, beyond which, as far as they walked and could see, smooth ice

extended. They returned, satisfied that this was the place to attempt

the passage when the time should arrive for their contemplated

exploration farther north.

They made the trip over the foot-ice to the station (twenty miles) in

four hours, thus proving the fine condition of the sledge and dogs for

traveling, and the eagerness of the dogs to rejoin their companions and

pups. All the way, they had before them to the southward a rich glow on

the horizon like the sunrise of a fine morning at home. They found the

men celebrating the 22d of February by match-games of various kinds,

and, after listening to an appropriate speech on the Father of his

Country, enjoyed a good dinner.

X.

“THE ARCTIC MOON.”

As already mentioned in this narrative, among the events which occurred

at the Greely Scientific Colony, or Fort Conger, was the establishment

of a newspaper, the first ever issued so near the north pole, the

nearest approach to it previously having been “The Ice-Blink,” issued by

Kane’s Expedition in 1854. It was projected by G. W. Rice and C. B.

Henry, but Lieutenant Lockwood was the editor-in-chief. The sheet was

fifteen by nineteen inches in size, first prepared in manuscript and

then multiplied by photograph, published on the 2d of November, 1881,

and semi-monthly as to time. As the musk-oxen, the walruses, and the

bears and wolves of Grinnell Land took no interest in the enterprise,

the patrons of the paper were confined to the colony of explorers. In

his opening address, the editor proudly claimed that his corps of

contributors embraced the finest minds in the country; that his

reporters would always be “on the spot”; that the journal was certain to

be superior to any other in the country; and that the subscription list

numbered not less than twenty-five thousand—the last assertion being a

servile imitation of what often appears in the papers of New York and

other American cities. And now, by way of giving the reader an idea of

the style and character of this unique journal, it is proposed to

reproduce in this chapter, as specimens, a collection of its editorials,

contributions, items of news, and advertisements. In an article on

“Christmas,” the editor gives us the following pathetic reflections:

“Our Christmas-time has come and gone, and, although our geographical

position is not a favorable one for the complete observation of this

joyous anniversary, it was attended with many of the happy features that

make its memory a pleasant landmark of the dying year. No boughs of

‘evergreen were berried bright’ (our crop of evergreens failed this

season), but had they existed, the conditions for making them ‘white

with rime’ were very favorable.

“Christmas always attracts a crowd of joyous faces, and, although we

missed the pleasure of ‘childhood’s grace and fair maiden’s blushes’

under the mystic mistletoe, the stalwart, bearded men who grasped hands

under our smoke-begrimed roof felt indeed the inspiration of the

gladsome time when the voice of man’s good-will to man speaks forth in

everything. Could the possessors of the kind hearts and hands that

contributed so much to the pleasure of the party have looked in upon the

happy, smiling faces, living again a day of their youth in the

anticipation and surprise attending the bestowal and opening of the

mysterious packages containing the presents, they would have felt more

than rewarded for their kind thoughtfulness. Lips unused to the task

framed grateful acknowledgments of the kind act. The interest in our

happiness taken by the wife of the commanding officer was repeatedly

shown, and when, as we sat down to our inviting Christmas dinner, we

contemplated a crowning proof of her kind good-will, repressed

enthusiasm could no longer be restrained, and three rousing cheers for

Mrs. Greely were given with an effect which proved beyond cavil the

vigor of our lungs, and rendered unnecessary the weekly examination of

the doctor.

“Of course, the festive season brought with it regrets that would not be

repressed, and longings that could not be satisfied, when processions of

absent loved ones and severed friends followed the funerals of other

Christmas-days through thoughts that would wander over snow, and ice,

and land, and sea, to the happy firesides where we knew they were

gathered. But every one looked on the bright side of things, and

extracted as much comfort and pleasure as possible under the

circumstances; we even knew one sordid individual who congratulated

himself on the immunity of his exchequer from the heavy drafts generally

entailed by the purchase of Christmas presents. We have not space to

enter into a detailed account of all the happy features of the holiday.

Altogether, our Christmas was a great success.”

By way of showing that there was nothing very frigid in the hearts of

the explorers, another editorial is submitted, on the New Year:

“Christmas is gone, with all its pleasant associations, and we find

ourselves on the threshold of a new year. What thoughts the day recalls

to a reflective mind! the exodus of the old, the advent of the new year;

the past and the future, history and prophecy, the ceaseless alternation

of life and death, the eternity of nature.

“The day is suggestive in another way. Where were we a year ago? what

doing? what looking forward to? Where shall we be a year from now? what

will be our surroundings, and what shall we look back upon? How distant

seemed this day a year ago! how short now seems the time that has since

elapsed!

“The new year of 1882 finds us a community of twenty-five men, living

through the cold and darkness of an Arctic winter, in a small house near

the north pole, thousands of miles beyond any civilized habitation. A

year ago saw us scattered—some in the cities, some on the plains of the

far West, some occupied in quiet routine, some in the ceaseless changes

and activity of the field. Will the next year find us here with our

surroundings as satisfactory and auspicious? We trust so, and this day

is eminently a day for making good resolutions. We are free agents, and

the future depends, in great part, on ourselves. Let us, then, determine

that, so far as lies within our power, we shall have no cause to look

back with regret on the year just ushered in. The phrase is hackneyed,

but none the less true:

‘Of all sad words of tongue or pen,

The saddest are these—it might have been.’”

And now we come to a contribution addressed to the editor of the “Arctic

Moon,” as follows:

“As Grinnell Land is a recognized Territory of the United States, and

has a territorial form of government, a delegate from this Territory is

to be elected who is to take his seat at the opening of the

Forty-seventh Congress. The undersigned offers himself as a candidate

for the office, on the following platform: I am in favor of reaching the

north pole by balloon, a liberal appropriation for the purchase of

lime-juice, compulsory education, unlimited emigration, a homestead and

sixty acres of land, one musk-ox and two Esquimaux dogs to each actual

settler. I am also a strong advocate of woman’s rights, but there is no

good in rights without the woman. I am prepared to ‘chaw’ the points on

the above platform; I think it is ‘plump,’ and will stand without being

propped up.

(Signed) “Connell.”

And now, under the general heading of “_Moon-Beams_,” we come to the

following paragraphs, which are not only spicy, but characteristic

of the time and place with which they are identified:

“The British expedition found the ice in this harbor, January 1,

1876, twenty-eight and three-quarter inches thick. Measurements made

this day showed thirty-four inches. Our average temperature for

December was nearly eight degrees lower than theirs for the same

month.

“The darkest day being a thing of the past, we shall soon find

ourselves sliding down hill quite rapidly. We have made complete

arrangements to have the sun interviewed on his return to this

country the latter part of February.

“The walrus seem to have emigrated, so that the Dutch Island people

now take their daily exercise in _peas_.

“‘I wonder what is in the mess-boxes?’ is the oft-repeated query.

Have patience, brethren, time will show.

“Old Probabilities will be surprised to learn, that his enterprising

colony at this point is indulging in outdoor sports with the

thermometer at 40° below zero.

“To-day, at Dutch Island, Lieutenant Kislingbury was able to see the

time of day holding his watch about one foot from his face.

“Sergeant Cross has made another addition to his already numerous

trades—that of bottling samples of air for the examination and

scrutiny of those not favored with a sniff of Arctic breezes.

“Sergeant Brainard is excellent authority for the statement that the

gate-money taken at the racing contest will be devoted to the

advancement of geographical knowledge within the Arctic Circle. Such

being the case, the number of aborigines present will be a crucial

test of the desire on the part of the Grinnellites to bring their

country into more general knowledge.

“Wanted—A good family horse. Will buy it cheap, or will take for his

keeping, or keep for his taking. To be used on good country roads

and for family driving. Must be very gentle. No objections to a

Government mule. Address Jacob Doboy.

“Wanted—A poet for the ‘Arctic Moon.’ Must be strictly temperate and

a good speech-maker. No tailors need apply. Address this office.

“Wanted—A humoristic writer for the ‘Arctic Moon.’ The present

incumbent has suddenly become ill from too close application.

“Information wanted of the Greely Arctic Expedition. It strayed away

from home last July, and was last heard from at Upernavik,

Greenland.

“We beg leave to announce to the public that we have made extensive

improvements in our establishment, whereby we can furnish at the

shortest notice bread, twists, rolls, cakes, pies, tarts, and, in

fact, anything in the baker’s line. Wedding cakes made a specialty.

Are thankful for past patronage, and respectfully ask its

continuance in future.

“Frederick Shootman,

“San Francisco Longman,

“Merchant Bakers.”

XI.

EXPEDITION TO LOCKWOOD ISLAND.

On the 29th of February, Lieutenant Lockwood went upon an

experimental trip to Thank God Harbor preparatory to his proposed

grand expedition along the coast of Northern Greenland. His

companions were Brainard, Jewell, Long, and the Esquimaux, Frederick

and Jans, with two dog-teams. As the dogs, constantly yelping and

howling, competed for the mastery, they traveled rapidly, and, after

many twistings and turnings, reached their destination, where they

found the observatory still standing. They took a necessary

inventory, and, after a survey of the dismal plain, visited the

grave of C. F. Hall, where Lieutenant Lockwood recorded the

following touching notice in his journal: “The head-board erected by

his comrades, as also the metallic one left by the English, still

stands. How mournful to me the scene, made more so by the howling of

the winds and the thick atmosphere! It was doubtless best that he

died where he did. I have come to regard him as a visionary and an

enthusiast, who was indebted more to fortune than to those practical

abilities which Kane possessed. Yet he gave his life to the cause,

and that must always go far toward redeeming the short-comings of

any man. The concluding lines of the inscription on the English

tablet, I think good: ‘To Captain Hall, who sacrificed his life in

the advancement of science, November 8, 1871. This tablet has been

erected by the British Polar Expedition of 1875, which followed in

his footsteps and profited by his experience.’”

The American inscription on the wooden headboard was as follows:

IN MEMORY OF

CHARLES FRANCIS HALL,

LATE COMMANDER U. S. STEAMER POLARIS,

NORTH POLE EXPEDITION.

_Died November 8, 1871._

“I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though

he were dead, yet shall he live.”

After various struggles with the snow, fog, and cold weather, ending

in frosted feet and faces, and after inspecting a boat left by

Buddington, they returned by way of the snow-house at Cape Beechy,

and, all very much exhausted, reached the station, receiving a

hearty welcome. Greely had been very anxious about the party, owing

to a storm of great violence, and had sent Dr. Pavy with men to

their relief. The trip thus made covered not less than one hundred

and forty miles. Lockwood now decided that on the 1st of April he

would start upon his proposed expedition. This trip occupied his

mind continually. He hoped he might be successful, yet there were

many chances of failure. Who could divine the future? He felt that

he ought to be able to reach Cape Britannia, but that was not

enough; he desired to do more.

As the time for taking his departure approached, Lockwood was

greatly troubled with rheumatism, but still was very busy in

maturing his plans. Lieutenant Greely wrote him a flattering letter,

putting the whole plan of operations in his hands and placing at his

disposal the entire _personnel_ and material of the expedition. This

would include almost all who could take the field. The men were

becoming enthusiastic and were showing an admirable spirit, although

they knew from experience that they were to engage in no child’s

play. Almost all of those selected had shown pluck hitherto. Without

this element no one could endure the hardships that they might have

to undergo. Should any of those selected break down early, there

were excellent substitutes among those left behind. Lockwood was

pleased with an exhibition of pluck by Ellis, who walked all the way

from Depot “A” with a frozen foot, refusing the offer of Jewell to

bring him on the dog-sledge. Jewell, on returning from Lincoln Bay,

had orders to convey stores to the “Gap,” where the boat previously

sent over the strait lay. Hence, before starting, supplies would be

placed at Depot “B,” at the “Gap,” and at a point intermediate on

the frozen strait.

Having all things complete, Sergeant Brainard was to proceed at once

with the supporting parties to Cape Sumner. He was to leave Depot

“B” with a weight to drag of one hundred and thirty pounds per man.

Lockwood was to follow with dog-sledge loaded with five hundred

pounds of pemmican. Thus they would concentrate at Cape Sumner with

the six hundred rations in hand, together with seven hundred pounds

of dog pemmican. The stores embraced pemmican, bacon, corned beef,

roast musk-ox, raw musk-ox, English beef, hard bread, canned beans,

potatoes, sugar, tea, chocolate, and coffee, besides which they

carried alcohol for cooking and lime-juice as an anti-scorbutic.

Their sledge ration had been made up by consultation with Lieutenant

Greely, though, of course, it might be departed from if

circumstances required. The diet list was purposely a varied one. No

rum or spirits were taken except as a medicine. The main supporting

party consisted of Sergeant Lynn, Corporal Ellison, and privates

Biederbick, Whistler, and Henry.

Lieutenant Lockwood, Sergeant Jewell, and the Esquimaux Frederick

formed the advance party, while Sergeants Brainard and Ralston,

Corporal Saler, and privates Connell, Fredericks, and one other man

constituted the second supporting party.

[Illustration: Sledging over the Arctic Floe.]

On the 2d of April, the main and second supporting parties moved off

in good style, amid the waving of flags, firing of pistols, cheers,

and other demonstrations. Both Lieutenants Greely and Lockwood took

occasion to address the men a few words of encouragement and advice.

Lockwood confined his remarks to the necessity of co-operation and

subordination as the chief essentials to success. He would follow

with Jewell and the dog-sledge, and, if he knew himself, would not

return unsuccessful. He got off at 8 P. M., with Jewell, Frederick,

and the dog-sledge Antoinette. The team of eight consisted of

“Ritenbank, the king,” a large white dog, at whose growl all the

rest trembled; “Major,” a friend of Ritenbank, and a very useful,

good-natured old fellow, hard-working and quiet, without any special

characteristics; “Howler,” a large, lean, mean, ill-natured brute,

whom they took on board at Disco, and who lorded it over the rest

till Ritenbank came on board at the place of the same name, when

Howler was dethroned; since which he had been morose and

misanthropic, and never associated with the other dogs. He set up

the most unearthly howling whenever any other dog approached him,

especially if that other dog had designs on something he was engaged

in eating or trying to eat—a tin can, for instance. At the end of a

march, when the pemmican was being cut up, and he, with the rest,

was awaiting his opportunity to make a general rush, his howling

became almost unendurable. But he was especially despicable, because

he allowed any and every dog of the team to jump on and bite him.

His only redeeming trait was his earnestness in pulling, for, when

the sledge stuck in deep snow or rubble-ice, he was the last of the

dogs to sit on his haunches and look while _you_ got it out. On

several occasions when Ritenbank was making efforts to get inside

the tent and steal the meat while all were asleep, Howler had given

the alarm by his unearthly howling. His place in the team was on the

right flank, and he kept it all the time, never dropping back and

coming up in the wrong place, as did the other dogs. Next to Howler

was the “Woolly dog,” a dirty-looking cur with long white hair,

which made Howler’s life a burden all the time by snapping at him as

he hauled by his side. Next came the “kooneys,” signifying in

Esquimaux mother-dogs. They were called “Black Kooney” and “White

Kooney,” and were both good workers. Then came “Ask-him,” a pup when

brought on board in Greenland, but now _of age_, and bearing the

airs of a veteran. He brooked insult from no dog but Ritenbank, and

evidently bided his time to contest the throne with him. He had even

taken upon himself the kingly custom of biting the adjoining dog

whenever he felt the whip. On his left were two dogs already named,

“Major” and the “Boss.” On the left flank was “Gypsy,” a little fat

kooney dog which pulled only under the lash, and yet by foraging and

stealing managed to get twice the rations of any of the rest, and

was always plump and fat.

The advance party reached Depot “A” in good time, and took on five

sacks (five hundred pounds) of dog pemmican and some cans of corned

beef, which made their load very heavy.

On the 5th of April, Lockwood reached the snow-house, and there

found Brainard and the rest, making thirteen altogether. They

completely filled the house, and also the dug-out in the snow-bank

adjoining, so that Lockwood and Jewell moved the provisions out of

the tent, and slept there, and Frederick in the tunnel. The tent

being snowed in to the ridge-pole, and connected with the tunnel,

they were quite comfortable. On the same day they saw an eagle on a

floe-berg, which was considered a good omen. After needed rest all

hands took their departure. The snow on the ice-floe was somewhat

deep, and the loads very heavy. The route across the straits,

previously determined on, was from Cape Beechy to within five or six

miles of the east shore, and then as direct as possible to Cape

Sumner. On reaching the tent on the straits, about four and one half

miles out, Lockwood dropped his load, and went back to look after

the sledges, then out of sight. He found Whistler sick and unable to

pull, and Biederbick and Connell trying to pull the load without

him—not an encouraging commencement of a long journey. Aided by the

dog-sledge, all soon reached the tent and camped for the night.

Lockwood, Jewell, and Frederick slept in the wall-tent, pitched

there some weeks before. Lockwood writes at this point: “Finding it

very cold, I was glad to get up and out, leaving Jewell to the

unhappy work of getting breakfast. (Breakfast! what a misnomer in

such cases!) I then went to the two tents occupied by the others to

inquire for healths. Mr. Henry, correspondent of the ‘Chicago Times’

(as he called himself), the same who had written on the side of a

large iceberg, ‘Ho! for Cape Britannia,’ said he could go no

farther, as he had been suffering dreadfully all night with

rheumatism; or, if he did go farther, we would have to haul him

back, while from here he thought he could manage to hobble by

himself to the snow-house, and, after resting there and again at

Depot ‘A,’ reach the station. Henry is a big fellow, over six feet

in height, with apparently the strength and physique of Hercules. It

was a bad omen for the rest of us when _he_ broke down. Connell had

frozen his feet the previous day quite badly, and only discovered

the extent of the injury after getting into camp, but thought _he_

could go on, or at least was determined to try. All hands looked

very forlorn, but generally were resolute and determined. Finally,

Jewell had the tea and canned meat warmed sufficiently, and we

stuffed ourselves with all there was to stuff, and prepared to

follow the others who had already started. We overtook Fredericks

(the saddler) struggling along in the snow with a sledge all by

himself. He was a dwarf by the side of the giant Henry. It was

necessary to do something, and so I told Jewell he must join

Fredericks, and leave the Esquimaux and me to manage the dog-sledge.

I overtook the main party about a mile and a half from camp, doing

their best. Connell could hardly walk at all, and it was utterly

impossible for him to pull. He was very reluctant to go back, but

there was no alternative; so, throwing off the load, I took him on

the dog-sledge as far as Cape Beechy, whence he thought he could get

along by himself. On returning I picked up the load, and proceeded

to follow the trail of the others. The snow soon became worse, and

the sledge so often stuck that I determined to double up—take half

the load at a time. The Esquimaux dogs can pull a very heavy load,

and through bad places, but the moment the sledge comes to a dead

halt they sit on their haunches, turn complacently round, and wait

till the sledge is extricated. If not fully started, they will pull

at random, or not at all. On these occasions the hard work comes

upon the driver and others with the sledge.”

On the 7th, they joined the other wing of the expedition, finding

them in camp some miles south-west of the gap. The wind had been

blowing and snow drifting for some hours, and everything indicated a

storm. Lockwood and Frederick pitched tent and went into camp, first

bringing up the rest of the load.

While the storm was still raging, they got off with half the load,

leaving the rest making preparations for a move, and took a course

for Cape Sumner, whose steep, rocky face loomed up in the distance,

terminated by a line of magnificent cliffs, which extended unbroken,

except by “the Gap,” as far south as Cape Lupton of Polaris fame.

They traveled upon level floes interrupted by ridges of hummocky

ice, over which they had to get the sledge as best they could, and

with frequent use of the axe. The wind blowing stronger, and the air

being obscured with driving snow, they could with difficulty pick

their way. Traveling over the straits was like navigating a ship in

a tortuous channel. They soon found themselves in the midst of a

mass of rubble-ice of the worst description; gaps and chasms between

the crags and blocks of ice, often filled with loose snow, or

entirely obscured by that flying through the air. They could barely

see the cliffs on their right, and could not recognize their

position. The dogs became very much discouraged, Frederick also, and

Lockwood himself felt in no very enviable frame of mind. After many

ineffectual efforts, and unloading and reloading repeatedly, they

left the load and attempted to explore a route to shore. Not

succeeding, they hunted for some suitable snow-drift in which to

burrow, and there await better weather; but saw none. Finally, the

storm letting up for a moment, they found a level floe, and, with

the use of the axe, Lockwood and Frederick got the sledge upon it.

On the 8th, at 3 A. M., they arrived at Cape Sumner, and, getting

through the rubble-ice near the shore, gained the steep snow-slope

which lay between the foot of the cliffs and the line of immense

floe-bergs along the shore, stranded and pressed close up to the

snow-slope. Between the bergs and the slope, the wind had made great

gaps, deep and tortuous. The only way to get along was either

through these gaps—often like pits—or to take the slope above and

run the risk of tumbling down into them, sledge and all, sometimes

fifteen or twenty feet. There was often no alternative but the

latter. Lockwood expected to find it calm there by reason of the

protection of the bluffs, but, on the contrary, the wind came down

from above in gusts and whirlwinds, filling the air with eddying

columns of snow. When about a mile from the Polaris Boat Camp, they

encountered an immense mass of snow entirely filling up the ravine

from top to bottom. Leaving the sledge, Lockwood went on to see if

he could reach the Boat Camp, but could hardly keep his feet on

account of the wind. Returning, he and Frederick made a small hole

in the side of a large drift, and, pulling in everything the dogs

could possibly eat, prepared to “weather the storm.” By 9 A. M.,

_supper_ had been eaten in darkness, for they had no candles, and

Frederick, wedged close up to him in the frozen sleeping-bag, was

snorting away like a steam-engine. Lockwood soon fell asleep too,

but woke up to find the sleeping-bag and his footgear and clothes

wet with the moisture such close quarters produced. Everything

inside was thawing. Soon after, masses of snow falling down through

a number of rents in the side and roof of the excavation, he began

to think they would be smothered alive. But while thinking about it,

he went to sleep again, leaving Frederick snorting as before. Just

how long they slept in that snow-bank, they did not know, but when

they did wake up and try to emerge, they found themselves completely

snowed in, and only got out by vigorous use of their knives, so hard

and compact had the ice and snow become. Frederick being able to

understand only signs and a very few words chiefly referring to

food, their conversation was very limited.

They found the dogs and sledge almost buried in snow. Hastily

harnessing up, they reached the Boat Camp on Newman’s Bay at noon.

Here they again went into camp by digging into a snow-bank and

covering the hole with the tent. “Skaffer,” or eating, being first

in order, they supplied themselves by thawing their prepared roast.

Then they had a smoke—that great solace of the traveler in every

clime. Snow-houses and snow-holes, they concluded, have many

objections, but they always have the merit of being warm. Feeling

uneasy about Brainard and his party, imagining all manner of things

about them, at 9 P. M., Lockwood left everything behind and went

forth with dogs and sledge to hunt them up, and at midnight met them

valiantly struggling along toward the Boat Camp. They had found

shelter from the storm behind a large, friendly floe-berg, where the

tent could stand. On the 10th, preceding them, he picked up the bags

of pemmican he had put off, and returned to Boat Camp, where they

came also and burrowed in the snow. All thus found themselves at

their first station. Jewell, being originally of the party of the

dog-sledge, lodged and fed with them when together, he sleeping in a

single bag, and Lockwood and Frederick together. “It was,” Lockwood

remarks, “a choice of evils which to prefer—Frederick groaning like

a piece of machinery, or Jewell always getting the stockings and

wraps mixed up, and invariably laying hold of the dry ones as his

own.”

“Snow-holes,” he again says, “having the insuperable objection of

asphyxiation, we repaired the tents and returned to

civilization—that is, went really into camp. Whistler and Bender

were found completely done up this morning both in flesh and

spirits—all kinds of pains, shortness of breath, spitting of blood,

faintness. Not being enthusiastic about going farther, I deemed it

best to send them back, and they left at once for the station.”

They now had several things to look to before going farther—to bring

up the rations sent across to the Gap, also to bring over those left

at the tent on the straits.

At midnight, Brainard and party, with three Hudson Bay sledges,

started on this work, and Lockwood left two hours after, with a

dog-sledge and Frederick, for the same purpose. Taking advantage of

smooth ice, interrupted now and then outside the pack near shore, he

soon overhauled Brainard, and they reached the Gap together. There

they found the boat, which had been sent over with so much labor, a

complete wreck. They, however, placed it out of reach of further

damage, as it might yet become important to them. They then went

into camp by going into a snow-burrow prepared there some weeks

before when the boat had been brought over, and proceeded to have a

feast, which possessed at least one merit, that of being _enough_,

for Lockwood did not deem it necessary to adhere strictly to sledge

rations till they had left their base of supplies. Leaving the

others to load up and return to Boat Camp, he and Frederick left

with the dog-sledge for the food put out on the straits _en route_.

Part of this they took up and then joined the others at Boat Camp,

men and dogs well spent and tired; but a good meal, a good smoke,

and a snooze in their bags, set them all right.

Their number was now reduced to nine, two having been sent back soon

after leaving the snow-house (Depot “B”), and two from Boat Camp.

The Hudson Bay sledges were much worn, and likely to become useless.

Lockwood now determined to return to the main station for new

runners, leaving the men under Brainard to bring up the supplies

still out, and otherwise make ready for the advance. The round trip

would be one hundred miles, and would add much to the labor of the

dogs, but there was no help for it, as he could take no chances on

the threshold of the long journey before them.

Soon after making this resolve, he and Frederick got off with their

team, carrying nothing but an axe and half a pound of tobacco. The

dogs were in fine condition, notwithstanding their recent hard work.

True, they supplemented their rations and thus added to their

strength by stealing thirty-five pounds of bacon! “It is wonderful,”

Lockwood here remarks, “what these Esquimaux dogs can do. This team,

which was regarded as a scrub affair—Dr. Pavy having had his pick of

dogs—hauled ice all through the winter, made a trip beyond Cape

Beechy in February, another to Thank-God-Harbor and Newman’s Bay in

March, and then hauled a load to Lincoln Bay and four days after

started on this present trip; yet now they travel along as lively as

ever—so lively that the driver finds it difficult to keep up.”

They duly reached the station, and, of course, Greely and all were

surprised to see them, probably taking them for another cargo of

cripples. After a good sleep and a feast, they were off on their

return at 10 P. M. of the 14th. They took on the runners, a feed of

walrus-meat, a few other trifles, and also a heliograph, the last to

open communication in case of delay or disaster. Stopping six hours

at the snow-house to rest and feed, they started across the strait

with a small load of meat, and, notwithstanding some rubble-ice

which delayed them, reached the Boat Camp at 5.30 P. M., very tired

and very sleepy, too, having accomplished this remarkable journey of

one hundred miles in fifty-four hours. During their absence,

Brainard had brought in everything, and all was ready for the

advance as soon as they could repair the sledges.

After repairing and rebuilding, they had for the trip:

1. Dog-sledge, Lieutenant Lockwood and Esquimaux Frederick; total

weight, 743 pounds.

2. Large sledge (the “Nares”), drawn by Sergeants Brainard and

Ralston and Corporal Saler; estimated total weight, 651 pounds.

3. Hudson Bay sledge (“Hall”), drawn by Sergeant Jewell and private

Fredericks; estimated total weight, 300 pounds.

4. Hudson Bay sledge (“Hayes”), drawn by Sergeant Lynn and Corporal

Ellison; estimated total weight, 300 pounds.

Of this weight, 225 pounds was of equipments, independent of weight

of sledges, and 900 pounds, of food for men and dogs.

At 10.30 P. M., they left the Boat Camp and crossed Newman’s Bay, to

a ravine, or narrow valley, directly opposite, which the lieutenant

called Gorge Creek after finding it was not the route he had taken

it for—that of Beaumont’s return. The others being far behind, he

left the sledge and proceeded on alone to explore. Passing through a

narrow gap, the valley widened out as before, in some places the

exposed stones offering a serious obstacle to heavily laden sledges.

Returning, he and Frederick went back with the team and assisted in

bringing up the foot-sledges. Then, after an advance of ten miles in

eight hours, all went into camp again. Leaving the camp at 10 P. M.,

and doubling up from the start, they made their way up the valley,

through the gap, and to the head of the valley beyond. They found

the exposed stones so annoying that Lockwood regretted often he had

not taken the route round Cape Brevoort, notwithstanding the

rubble-ice. Though Lockwood felt confident he had reached the

divide, yet, throwing off the load, he sent Frederick with the team

back to assist the others, while he went ahead to further

reconnoitre. Although he ascended a high hill, he could see little

encouraging beyond. He returned to the load and continued

down-stream until he met the others painfully advancing, when all

went into camp, after making an advance of six miles in eight hours.

Got off again with half-load at 10 P. M. Preceding the others,

Lockwood and Frederick made their way over slightly undulating

plains, keeping as far as possible northward until they came to a

decided depression in that direction, sometimes following blind

leads, and then returning and continuing on their former way.

Lockwood finally saw before him the crest of the bluff of a

water-course, gaining which he found to his joy a stream running

north, which he entered. Though filled with snow, it afforded good

traveling for the dog team. Continuing down this stream, he passed

between two large masses of rock like a gateway. Here was a regular

cañon as straight as a street and nearly level, whose sides were

almost perpendicular and extremely picturesque. Seeing no signs of

the sea, he resolved to camp here. To this end, throwing off the

half load, he went back for that left behind, expecting to meet the

foot-sledges on the way. Disappointed in this, he returned to the

ravine, and at 6 P. M. he and Frederick were into their

sleeping-bags, feeling much uneasiness about their route, for they

had already traveled a much greater distance than the English maps

called for as lying between Newman’s Bay and the north coast.

Although the men with the drag-sledges had not come up, Lockwood

resolved to leave everything behind and go ahead down the cañon with

the empty sledge till assured that he was _en route_ to the sea by

finding the sea itself. Carrying out this resolve at 10 A. M., the

cañon soon widened into a valley, with deep, soft snow-bed or

stones, and inclosed by lofty mountains. He crossed this, and came

to a gorge like a railroad-cutting, through which the stream ran.

Ascending an adjacent hill, before him lay what seemed an extended

plain, which he recognized as the sea, from a line of floe-bergs

marking the coast.

Just where they were, he did not know, nor did he find out till

their return. The sea had been found, so now they were to find and

bring up the men and sledges. Lockwood and Frederick, with the

wearied team, rapidly went back and happily found the absent ones,

safely, if not comfortably, camped alongside their load.

All broke camp at 7 P. M. and proceeded to bring up such of the

impedimenta as had been left behind; after which they made their way

with great labor through the cañon, valley, and gorge to the sea,

reaching there, at 4 A. M. of the 22d, with everything except a

seal-skin mit, which got adrift and went flying before the wind over

the hills like a bird; for a terrific snow-storm was then raging.

They found great difficulty in making the tents stand, and, indeed,

abandoned the attempt except as to one, into which they all huddled

to weather out the storm. The cooking was confined to making a

little tepid tea. They remained in their bags, sleeping at

intervals, and even going without food and water rather than venture

out.

Finally, on the morning of the 23d, the storm had abated, and they

ventured out, to find that the dogs had taken advantage of the

circumstances to eat up twenty pounds of bacon and twelve pounds of

beef, although these had been secured, as was supposed, at the

bottom of a sledge. They had also eaten a seal-skin mitten. After

some repairs to the sledges, which had suffered by the stony route

passed over, they proceeded on their way along the coast, keeping on

the ice-foot which here ran along a low, sloping shore backed by a

range of hills. At Drift Point, the snow formed steep slopes,

extending from the bluffs (now near the sea) to the tops of the line

of floe-bergs along shore. There, the sledge “Nares” breaking down,

it was necessary to abandon it and increase the loads on the other

sledges, carrying along the good parts of the “Nares” to repair the

others when needful. Doubling up, they made their way along those

steep slopes until near Black Horn Cliffs. Here the slopes became so

abrupt that they were driven on to the rubble-ice near the shore. So

difficult was their way over this with the heavily loaded sledges,

that in many places by standing pulls only could progress be made.

Near these cliffs they went into camp after bringing up the

half-loads left behind, having advanced five miles in eight and a

half hours. Leaving half their stuff, they then made their way over

the rubble-ice, frequently using the axe, till they came to the end

of the cliffs, when the sledges went back for the rest of the stuff,

while Lockwood looked for a more practicable route. Off shore, half

a mile seaward, he found a fair route, following which he reached

Cape Stanton. He thought Stanton Gorge, where Beaumont had left

forty rations, to be near. These, however, he failed to find. After

taking a short nap in the lee of a hummock, he returned to find

Frederick and the dog-sledge. The others coming up, all went into

camp fully tired out, for, besides the roughness of the ice, they

had encountered a stiff wind. Two ptarmigans were seen near Cape

Stanton.

On the 25th of April Frederick declined breakfast—evidence of

something wrong with him. Lockwood, therefore, resolved to go up to

a gorge he had seen the previous day, and there go into camp and lie

over a day. Frederick could hardly walk, and hence rode when it was

possible. Finding a snow-slope inside the hummocks, they made good

progress and reached “Gorge Rest” in one hour. In the mean while the

sun came out, and the air became calm and warm, affording a good

opportunity for drying wet clothes and bags. Lockwood gave a drink

of brandy to Frederick, and then displayed Mrs. Greely’s silk flag,

as they had now attained a point higher than any American had before

reached. In the afternoon, Jewell and Ralston succeeded in finding

Beaumont’s _cache_ farther on, and, as proof of their discovery,

brought back a can of rum marked “Bloodhound,” the name of his

sledge. It was about there that his first man was sent back with the

scurvy. Afterward, when all but two had the disease, they had to go

on or die in the traces.

On the 26th, Frederick was well, otherwise he would have been sent

back. They built a _cache_ and left one day’s ration for men and

dogs; also, to lighten load, snow-shoes, head and foot gear,

blankets, indeed everything they could do without. They reached

Stanton Gorge, dropped load, and Frederick was sent back with the

team for the rest of their stuff. The men came in without doubling,

having also found Beaumont’s _cache_ on a high hill. They all agreed

that such unnecessary labor was enough to bring on the scurvy. They

found there fifty-six pounds of pemmican, ten pounds of bacon, and a

large box containing bread, potatoes, chocolate, tea, sugar,

onion-powder, and stearine used for fuel, all of which were taken on

to Cape Bryant. Beyond this point, to Cape Stanton, their route lay

along the foot of steep snow-slopes beneath the cliffs, with lines

of floe-bergs and hummocks outside, and was exceedingly rough.

Lockwood and Frederick, after crossing Hand Bay, passed the men

moving slowly and laboriously. Their troubles were increased by

frequent upsettings of the sledges along the slope and by the

friction of the splintered bottoms owing to the runners cutting

through.

It was not till 8 P. M. that they all reached Frankfield Bay, and,

thoroughly tired out, went into camp, after an advance of nine miles

in thirteen hours.

Here they cached one day’s rations for all, and then traveled along

the low shore which skirted the base of Mount Lowe, and came upon

the snow-covered surface of Frankfield Bay, a small and pretty

harbor surrounded by steep mountains. Beyond this bay, they crossed

a spit of land, going up a steep slope, and down another equally

steep at a run. There they threw off a half load and went back for

the rest. Afterward all proceeded with half-loads, Lockwood taking

his post at the traces and pulling with the men. After a while he

dropped off to help Frederick, while the men went on to Cape Bryant.

Taking advantage of an interval of leisure, he got out the lamp and

made just two pint-cups of tea for Frederick and himself. “Of all

the occasions,” he says, “when a draught of tea tasted particularly

good, none like this lingers in my memory. Though without milk and

with very little sugar, it tasted like nectar. In fact, as the gods

never undertook any Arctic sledge-journeys, their nectar was not

half so delicious.”

On the 27th, Lockwood shot five ptarmigans or Arctic quails. Sitting

on a floe-berg, they were scarcely distinguishable from the snow.

The traveling on that day was on the whole fair; yet so heavily were

the sledges loaded, and so much worn, that when, after making

fifteen miles in twelve hours, they reached Cape Bryant at 8.30 P.

M., both men and dogs were nearly exhausted. To add to their

joylessness, they had to be very sparing of their rations.

Cracker-dust was with them the grand panacea for short rations. This

went into every stew, was mixed with their tea, and was even taken

alone, and found to be very _filling_. By its aid, they persuaded

themselves that the short allowance was a hearty repast.

On the 28th, Brainard and others made an unsuccessful search for a

_cache_ left there by Beaumont, but got a good view of Cape

Britannia from a high cliff. Lockwood and Jewell also saw it from a

height back of the camp. Beaumont had seen Cape Britannia, but never

reached it. He got only thirty miles farther than Cape Bryant; that

is, to the opposite side of the fiord which here appears, and which

they called “Beaumont’s Fiord.” While Frederick brought up some

stores left behind, Lockwood busied himself with many details

connected with his further advance toward the north, for now his

supports were to leave him and return to the Boat Camp, while

Brainard, Frederick, and himself, with the dog-sledge, were to

proceed alone.

Lockwood now satisfied himself by a careful inspection of the

sledges that the supporting party could go no farther, especially as

some of the men were suffering with snow-blindness. He therefore

broke up one of the sledges, and with it repaired the remaining

drag-sledge and the dog-sledge. Brainard, also suffering with

snow-blindness, remained in the tent, while Lockwood with the others

built a _cache_ and deposited therein the Beaumont stores and such

others as they could not take on. Food for the return party to Boat

Camp having been dropped _en route_, he decided to take with him

twenty-five days’ rations. Hence their advance must be limited to

the time these rations would feed them, going northeast and

returning to Cape Bryant.