NEWS
The Polar circle was cleared at last. On the 30th of April, at midday,
the _Forward_ passed abreast of Holsteinborg; picturesque mountains
rose up on the eastern horizon. The sea appeared almost free from
icebergs, and the few there were could easily be avoided. The wind
veered round to the south-east, and the brig, under her mizensail,
brigantine, topsails, and her topgallant sail, sailed up Baffin's
Sea. It had been a particularly calm day, and the crew were able to
take a little rest. Numerous birds were swimming and fluttering about
round the vessel; amongst others, the doctor observed some
_alca-alla_, very much like the teal, with black neck, wings and back,
and white breast; they plunged with vivacity, and their immersion
often lasted forty seconds.
The day would not have been remarkable if the following fact, however
extraordinary it may appear, had not occurred on board. At six o'clock
in the morning Richard Shandon, re-entering his cabin after having
been relieved, found upon the table a letter with this address:
"To the Commander,
"RICHARD SHANDON,
"On board the 'FORWARD,'
"Baffin's Sea."
Shandon could not believe his own eyes, and before reading such a
strange epistle he caused the doctor, James Wall and Johnson to be
called, and showed them the letter.
"That grows very strange," said Johnson.
"It's delightful!" thought the doctor.
"At last," cried Shandon, "we shall know the secret."
With a quick hand he tore the envelope and read as follows:
"COMMANDER,--The captain of the _Forward_ is pleased with the
coolness, skill, and courage that your men, your officers, and
yourself have shown on the late occasions, and begs you to give
evidence of his gratitude to the crew.
"Have the goodness to take a northerly direction towards Melville
Bay, and from thence try and penetrate into Smith's Straits.
"THE CAPTAIN OF THE _Forward_,
"K. Z.
"Monday, April 30th,
"Abreast of Cape Walsingham."
"Is that all?" cried the doctor.
"That's all," replied Shandon, and the letter fell from his hands.
"Well," said Wall, "this chimerical captain doesn't even mention
coming on board, so I conclude that he never will come."
"But how did this letter get here?" said Johnson.
Shandon was silent.
"Mr. Wall is right," replied the doctor, after picking up the letter
and turning it over in every direction; "the captain won't come on
board for an excellent reason----"
"And what's that?" asked Shandon quickly.
"Because he is here already," replied the doctor simply.
"Already!" said Shandon. "What do you mean?"
"How do you explain the arrival of this letter if such is not the
case?"
Johnson nodded his head in sign of approbation.
"It is not possible!" said Shandon energetically. "I know every man
of the crew. We should have to believe, in that case, that the captain
has been with us ever since we set sail. It is not possible, I tell
you. There isn't one of them that I haven't seen for more than two
years in Liverpool; doctor, your supposition is inadmissible."
"Then what do you admit, Shandon?"
"Everything but that! I admit that the captain, or one of his men,
has profited by the darkness, the fog, or anything you like, in order
to slip on board; we are not very far from land; there are Esquimaux
kayaks that pass unperceived between the icebergs; someone may have
come on board and left the letter; the fog was intense enough to favour
their design."
"And to hinder them from seeing the brig," replied the doctor; "if
we were not able to perceive an intruder slip on board, how could
_he_ have discovered the _Forward_ in the midst of a fog?"
"That is evident," exclaimed Johnson.
"I come back, then," said the doctor, "to my first hypothesis. What
do you think about it, Shandon?"
"I think what you please," replied Shandon fiercely, "with the
exception of supposing that this man is on board my vessel."
"Perhaps," added Wall, "there may be amongst the crew a man of his
who has received instructions from him."
"That's very likely," added the doctor.
"But which man?" asked Shandon. "I tell you I have known all my men
a long time."
"Anyhow," replied Johnson, "if this captain shows himself, let him
be man or devil, we'll receive him; but we have another piece of
information to draw from this letter."
"What's that?" asked Shandon.
"Why, that we are to direct our path not only towards Melville Bay,
but again into Smith's Straits."
"You are right," answered the doctor.
"Smith's Straits?" echoed Shandon mechanically.
"It is evident," replied Johnson, "that the destination of the
_Forward_ is not to seek a North-West passage, as we shall leave to
our left the only track that leads to it--that is to say, Lancaster
Straits; that's what forebodes us difficult navigation in unknown
seas."
"Yes, Smith's Straits," replied Shandon, "that's the route the
American Kane followed in 1853, and at the price of what dangers!
For a long time he was thought to be lost in those dreadful latitudes!
However, as we must go, go we must. But where? how far? To the Pole?"
"And why not?" cried the doctor.
The idea of such an insane attempt made the boatswain shrug his
shoulders.
"After all," resumed James Wall, "to come back to the captain, if
he exists, I see nowhere on the coast of Greenland except Disko or
Uppernawik where he can be waiting for us; in a few days we shall
know what we may depend upon."
"But," asked the doctor of Shandon, "aren't you going to make known
the contents of that letter to the crew?"
"With the commander's permission," replied Johnson, "I should do
nothing of the kind."
"And why so?" asked Shandon.
"Because all that mystery tends to discourage the men: they are
already very anxious about the fate of our expedition, and if the
supernatural side of it is increased it may produce very serious
results, and in a critical moment we could not rely upon them. What
do you say about it, commander?"
"And you, doctor--what do you think?" asked Shandon.
"I think Johnson's reasoning is just."
"And you, Wall?"
"Unless there's better advice forthcoming, I shall stick to the
opinion of these gentlemen."
Shandon reflected seriously during a few minutes, and read the letter
over again carefully.
"Gentlemen," said he, "your opinion on this subject is certainly
excellent, but I cannot adopt it."
"Why not, Shandon?" asked the doctor.
"Because the instructions of this letter are formal: they command
me to give the captain's congratulations to the crew, and up till
to-day I have always blindly obeyed his orders in whatever manner
they have been transmitted to me, and I cannot----"
"But----" said Johnson, who rightly dreaded the effect of such a
communication upon the minds of the sailors.
"My dear Johnson," answered Shandon, "your reasons are excellent,
but read--'he begs you to give evidence of his gratitude to the crew.'"
"Act as you think best," replied Johnson, who was besides a very strict
observer of discipline. "Are we to muster the crew on deck?"
"Do so," replied Shandon.
The news of a communication having been received from the captain
spread like wildfire on deck; the sailors quickly arrived at their
post, and the commander read out the contents of the mysterious letter.
The reading of it was received in a dead silence; the crew dispersed,
a prey to a thousand suppositions. Clifton had heard enough to give
himself up to all the wanderings of his superstitious imagination;
he attributed a considerable share in this incident to the dog-captain,
and when by chance he met him in his passage he never failed to salute
him. "I told you the animal could write," he used to say to the sailors.
No one said anything in answer to this observation, and even Bell,
the carpenter himself, would not have known what to answer.
Nevertheless it was certain to all that, in default of the captain,
his spirit or his shadow watched on board; and henceforward the wisest
of the crew abstained from exchanging their opinions about him.
On the 1st of May, at noon, they were in 68 degrees latitude and 56
degrees 32 minutes longitude. The temperature was higher and the
thermometer marked twenty-five degrees above zero. The doctor was
amusing himself with watching the antics of a white bear and two cubs
on the brink of a pack that lengthened out the land. Accompanied by
Wall and Simpson, he tried to give chase to them by means of the canoe;
but the animal, of a rather warlike disposition, rapidly led away
its offspring, and consequently the doctor was compelled to renounce
following them up.
Chilly Cape was doubled during the night under the influence of a
favourable wind, and soon the high mountains of Disko rose in the
horizon. Godhavn Bay, the residence of the Governor-General of the
Danish Settlements, was left to the right. Shandon did not consider
it worth while to stop, and soon outran the Esquimaux pirogues who
were endeavouring to reach his ship.
The Island of Disko is also called Whale Island. It was from this
point that on the 12th of July, 1845, Sir John Franklin wrote to the
Admiralty for the last time. It was also on that island on the 27th
of August, 1859, that Captain McClintock set foot on his return,
bringing back, alas! proofs too complete of the loss of the expedition.
The coincidence of these two facts were noted by the doctor; that
melancholy conjunction was prolific in memories, but soon the heights
of Disko disappeared from his view.
There were, at that time, numerous icebergs on the coasts, some of
those which the strongest thaws are unable to detach; the continual
series of ridges showed themselves under the strangest forms.
The next day, towards three o'clock, they were bearing on to Sanderson
Hope to the north-east. Land was left on the starboard at a distance
of about fifteen miles; the mountains seemed tinged with a
red-coloured bistre. During the evening, several whales of the
finners species, which have fins on their backs, came playing about
in the midst of the ice-trails, throwing out air and water from their
blow-holes. It was during the night between the 3rd and 4th of May
that the doctor saw for the first time the sun graze the horizon
without dipping his luminous disc into it. Since the 31st of January
the days had been getting longer and longer till the sun went down
no more. To strangers not accustomed to the persistence of this
perpetual light it was a constant subject of astonishment, and even
of fatigue; it is almost impossible to understand to what extent
obscurity is requisite for the well-being of our eyes. The doctor
experienced real pain in getting accustomed to this light, rendered
still more acute by the reflection of the sun's rays upon the plains
of ice.
On May 5th the _Forward_ headed the seventy-second parallel; two
months later they would have met with numerous whalers under these
high latitudes, but at present the straits were not sufficiently open
to allow them to penetrate into Baffin's Bay. The following day the
brig, after having headed Woman's Island, came in sight of Uppernawik,
the most northerly settlement that Denmark possesses on these coasts.