Produced by Ron Swanson
THE ENGLISH AT THE NORTH POLE
PART I
OF
THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN HATTERAS
BY
JULES VERNE
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I.--THE "FORWARD" . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
II.--AN UNEXPECTED LETTER . . . . . . . . . 14
III.--DR. CLAWBONNY . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
IV.--DOG-CAPTAIN . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
V.--OUT AT SEA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
VI.--THE GREAT POLAR CURRENT . . . . . . . 44
VII.--DAVIS'S STRAITS . . . . . . . . . . . 52
VIII.--GOSSIP OF THE CREW . . . . . . . . . . 61
IX.--NEWS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
X.--DANGEROUS NAVIGATION . . . . . . . . . 78
XI.--THE DEVIL'S THUMB . . . . . . . . . . 88
XII.--CAPTAIN HATTERAS . . . . . . . . . . . 98
XIII.--THE PROJECTS OF HATTERAS . . . . . . . 109
XIV.--EXPEDITION IN SEARCH OF FRANKLIN . . . 118
XV.--THE "FORWARD" DRIVEN BACK SOUTH . . . 127
XVI.--THE MAGNETIC POLE . . . . . . . . . . 135
XVII.--THE FATE OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN . . . . 144
XVIII.--THE NORTHERN ROUTE . . . . . . . . . . 150
XIX.--A WHALE IN SIGHT . . . . . . . . . . . 155
XX.--BEECHEY ISLAND . . . . . . . . . . . . 161
XXI.--THE DEATH OF BELLOT . . . . . . . . . 170
XXII.--BEGINNING OF REVOLT . . . . . . . . . 178
XXIII.--ATTACKED BY ICEBERGS . . . . . . . . . 184
XXIV.--PREPARATIONS FOR WINTERING . . . . . . 193
XXV.--AN OLD FOX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 200
XXVI.--THE LAST LUMP OF COAL . . . . . . . . 209
XXVII.--CHRISTMAS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 215
XXVIII.--PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE . . . . . . 222
XXIX.--ACROSS THE ICE . . . . . . . . . . . . 227
XXX.--THE CAIRN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 236
XXXI.--THE DEATH OF SIMPSON . . . . . . . . . 243
XXXII.--THE RETURN . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 249
CHAPTER I
THE "FORWARD"
"To-morrow, at low tide, the brig _Forward_, Captain K. Z----, Richard
Shandon mate, will start from New Prince's Docks for an unknown
destination."
The foregoing might have been read in the _Liverpool Herald_ of April
5th, 1860. The departure of a brig is an event of little importance
for the most commercial port in England. Who would notice it in the
midst of vessels of all sorts of tonnage and nationality that six
miles of docks can hardly contain? However, from daybreak on the 6th
of April a considerable crowd covered the wharfs of New Prince's
Docks--the innumerable companies of sailors of the town seemed to
have met there. Workmen from the neighbouring wharfs had left their
work, merchants their dark counting-houses, tradesmen their shops.
The different-coloured omnibuses that ran along the exterior wall
of the docks brought cargoes of spectators at every moment; the town
seemed to have but one pre-occupation, and that was to see the
_Forward_ go out.
The _Forward_ was a vessel of a hundred and seventy tons, charged
with a screw and steam-engine of a hundred and twenty horse-power.
It might easily have been confounded with the other brigs in the port.
But though it offered nothing curious to the eyes of the public,
connoisseurs remarked certain peculiarities in it that a sailor
cannot mistake. On board the _Nautilus_, anchored at a little distance,
a group of sailors were hazarding a thousand conjectures about the
destination of the _Forward_.
"I don't know what to think about its masting," said one; "it isn't
usual for steamboats to have so much sail."
"That ship," said a quartermaster with a big red face--"that ship
will have to depend more on her masts than her engine, and the topsails
are the biggest because the others will be often useless. I haven't
got the slightest doubt that the _Forward_ is destined for the Arctic
or Antarctic seas, where the icebergs stop the wind more than is good
for a brave and solid ship."
"You must be right, Mr. Cornhill," said a third sailor. "Have you
noticed her stern, how straight it falls into the sea?"
"Yes," said the quartermaster, "and it is furnished with a steel
cutter as sharp as a razor and capable of cutting a three-decker in
two if the _Forward_ were thrown across her at top speed."
"That's certain," said a Mersey pilot; "for that 'ere vessel runs
her fourteen knots an hour with her screw. It was marvellous to see
her cutting the tide when she made her trial trip. I believe you,
she's a quick un."
"The canvas isn't intricate either," answered Mr. Cornhill; "it goes
straight before the wind, and can be managed by hand. That ship is
going to try the Polar seas, or my name isn't what it is. There's
something else--do you see the wide helm-port that the head of her
helm goes through?"
"It's there, sure enough," answered one; "but what does that prove?"
"That proves, my boys," said Mr. Cornhill with disdainful
satisfaction, "that you don't know how to put two and two together
and make it four; it proves that they want to be able to take off
the helm when they like, and you know it's a manoeuvre that's often
necessary when you have ice to deal with."
"That's certain," answered the crew of the _Nautilus_.
"Besides," said one of them, "the way she's loaded confirms Mr.
Cornhill's opinion. Clifton told me. The _Forward_ is victualled and
carries coal enough for five or six years. Coals and victuals are
all its cargo, with a stock of woollen garments and sealskins."
"Then," said the quartermaster, "there is no more doubt on the matter;
but you, who know Clifton, didn't he tell you anything about her
destination?"
"He couldn't tell me; he doesn't know; the crew was engaged without
knowing. He'll only know where he's going when he gets there."
"I shouldn't wonder if they were going to the devil," said an
unbeliever: "it looks like it."
"And such pay," said Clifton's friend, getting warm--"five times more
than the ordinary pay. If it hadn't been for that, Richard Shandon
wouldn't have found a soul to go with him. A ship with a queer shape,
going nobody knows where, and looking more like not coming back than
anything else, it wouldn't have suited this child."
"Whether it would have suited you or not," answered Cornhill, "you
couldn't have been one of the crew of the _Forward_."
"And why, pray?"
"Because you don't fulfil the required conditions. I read that all
married men were excluded, and you are in the category, so you needn't
talk. Even the very name of the ship is a bold one. The
_Forward_--where is it to be forwarded to? Besides, nobody knows who
the captain is."
"Yes, they do," said a simple-faced young sailor.
"Why, you don't mean to say that you think Shandon is the captain
of the _Forward_?" said Cornhill.
"But----" answered the young sailor--
"Why, Shandon is commander, and nothing else; he's a brave and bold
sailor, an experienced whaler, and a jolly fellow worthy in every
respect to be the captain, but he isn't any more captain than you
or I. As to who is going to command after God on board he doesn't
know any more than we do. When the moment has come the true captain
will appear, no one knows how nor where, for Richard Shandon has not
said and hasn't been allowed to say to what quarter of the globe he
is going to direct his ship."
"But, Mr. Cornhill," continued the young sailor, "I assure you that
there is someone on board who was announced in the letter, and that
Mr. Shandon was offered the place of second to."
"What!" said Cornhill, frowning, "do you mean to maintain that the
_Forward_ has a captain on board?"
"Yes, Mr. Cornhill."
"Where did you get your precious information from?"
"From Johnson, the boatswain."
"From Johnson?"
"Yes, sir."
"Johnson told you so?"
"He not only told me so, but he showed me the captain."
"He showed him to you!" said Cornhill, stupefied. "And who is it,
pray?"
"A dog."
"What do you mean by a dog?"
"A dog on four legs."
Stupefaction reigned amongst the crew of the _Nautilus_. Under any
other circumstances they would have burst out laughing. A dog captain
of a vessel of a hundred and seventy tons burden! It was enough to
make them laugh. But really the _Forward_ was such an extraordinary
ship that they felt it might be no laughing matter, and they must
be sure before they denied it. Besides, Cornhill himself didn't laugh.
"So Johnson showed you the new sort of captain, did he?" added he,
addressing the young sailor, "and you saw him?"
"Yes, sir, as plainly as I see you now."
"Well, and what do you think about it?" asked the sailors of the
quartermaster.
"I don't think anything," he answered shortly. "I don't think anything,
except that the _Forward_ is a ship belonging to the devil, or madmen
fit for nothing but Bedlam."
The sailors continued silently watching the _Forward_, whose
preparations for departure were drawing to an end; there was not one
of them who pretended that Johnson had only been laughing at the young
sailor. The history of the dog had already made the round of the town,
and amongst the crowd of spectators many a one looked out for the
dog-captain and believed him to be a supernatural animal. Besides,
the _Forward_ had been attracting public attention for some months
past. Everything about her was marvellous; her peculiar shape, the
mystery which surrounded her, the incognito kept by the captain, the
way Richard Shandon had received the proposition to direct her, the
careful selection of the crew, her unknown destination, suspected
only by a few--all about her was strange.
To a thinker, dreamer, or philosopher nothing is more affecting than
the departure of a ship; his imagination plays round the sails, sees
her struggles with the sea and the wind in the adventurous journey
which does not always end in port; when in addition to the ordinary
incidents of departure there are extraordinary ones, even minds
little given to credulity let their imagination run wild.
So it was with the _Forward_, and though the generality of people
could not make the knowing remarks of Quartermaster Cornhill, it did
not prevent the ship forming the subject of Liverpool gossip for three
long months. The ship had been put in dock at Birkenhead, on the
opposite side of the Mersey. The builders, Scott and Co., amongst
the first in England, had received an estimate and detailed plan from
Richard Shandon; it informed them of the exact tonnage, dimensions,
and store room that the brig was to have. They saw by the details
given that they had to do with a consummate seaman. As Shandon had
considerable funds at his disposal, the work advanced rapidly,
according to the recommendation of the owner. The brig was constructed
of a solidity to withstand all tests; it was evident that she was
destined to resist enormous pressure, for her ribs were built of
teak-wood, a sort of Indian oak, remarkable for its extreme hardness,
and were, besides, plated with iron. Sailors asked why the hull of
a vessel made so evidently for resistance was not built of sheet-iron
like other steamboats, and were told it was because the mysterious
engineer had his own reasons for what he did.
Little by little the brig grew on the stocks, and her qualities of
strength and delicacy struck connoisseurs. As the sailors of the
_Nautilus_ had remarked, her stern formed a right angle with her keel;
her steel prow, cast in the workshop of R. Hawthorn, of Newcastle,
shone in the sun and gave a peculiar look to the brig, though otherwise
she had nothing particularly warlike about her. However, a 16-pounder
cannon was installed on the forecastle; it was mounted on a pivot,
so that it might easily be turned in any direction; but neither the
cannon nor the stern, steel-clad as they were, succeeded in looking
warlike.
On the 5th of February, 1860, this strange vessel was launched in
the midst of an immense concourse of spectators, and the trial trip
was perfectly successful. But if the brig was neither a man-of-war,
a merchant vessel, nor a pleasure yacht--for a pleasure trip is not
made with six years' provisions in the hold--what was it? Was it a
vessel destined for another Franklin expedition? It could not be,
because in 1859, the preceding year, Captain McClintock had returned
from the Arctic seas, bringing the certain proof of the loss of the
unfortunate expedition. Was the _Forward_ going to attempt the famous
North-West passage? What would be the use? Captain McClure had
discovered it in 1853, and his lieutenant, Creswell, was the first
who had the honour of rounding the American continent from Behring's
Straits to Davis's Straits. Still it was certain to competent judges
that the _Forward_ was prepared to face the ice regions. Was it going
to the South Pole, farther than the whaler Weddell or Captain James
Ross? But, if so, what for?
The day after the brig was floated her engine was sent from Hawthorn's
foundry at Newcastle. It was of a hundred and twenty horse-power,
with oscillating cylinders, taking up little room; its power was
considerable for a hundred-and-seventy-ton brig, with so much sail,
too, and of such fleetness. Her trial trips had left no doubt on that
subject, and even the boatswain, Johnson, had thought right to express
his opinion to Clifton's friend--
"When the _Forward_ uses her engine and sails at the same time, her
sails will make her go the quickest."
Clifton's friend did not understand him, but he thought anything
possible of a ship commanded by a dog. After the engine was installed
on board, the stowage of provisions began. This was no slight work,
for the vessel was to carry enough for six years. They consisted of
dry and salted meat, smoked fish, biscuit, and flour; mountains of
tea and coffee were thrown down the shafts in perfect avalanches.
Richard Shandon presided over the management of this precious cargo
like a man who knows what he is about; all was stowed away, ticketed,
and numbered in perfect order; a very large provision of the Indian
preparation called pemmican, which contains many nutritive elements
in a small volume, was also embarked. The nature of the provisions
left no doubt about the length of the cruise, and the sight of the
barrels of lime-juice, lime-drops, packets of mustard, grains of
sorrel and _cochlearia_, all antiscorbutic, confirmed the opinion
on the destination of the brig for the ice regions; their influence
is so necessary in Polar navigation. Shandon had doubtless received
particular instructions about this part of the cargo, which, along
with the medicine-chest, he attended to particularly.
Although arms were not numerous on board, the powder-magazine
overflowed. The one cannon could not pretend to use the contents.
That gave people more to think about. There were also gigantic saws
and powerful instruments, such as levers, leaden maces, handsaws,
enormous axes, etc., without counting a considerable quantity of
blasting cylinders, enough to blow up the Liverpool Customs--all that
was strange, not to say fearful, without mentioning rockets, signals,
powder-chests, and beacons of a thousand different sorts. The
numerous spectators on the wharfs of Prince's Docks admired likewise
a long mahogany whaler, a tin _pirogue_ covered with gutta-percha,
and a certain quantity of halkett-boats, a sort of indiarubber cloaks
that can be transformed into canoes by blowing in their lining.
Expectation was on the _qui vive_, for the _Forward_ was going out
with the tide.