12. But what were we to do; what direction were we to follow? If we

killed and ate our dogs and broke up our sledge to find wood to melt the

snow, we might live for eight days longer. In this case we must ourselves

carry our baggage. But the most important question was, Whither? In

what direction did the ice lie still unbroken? Did the land on the west

afford a connected route to the ship? Did the sea before us communicate

further south with the sea where the _Tegetthoff_ lay? There was but one

alternative—escape by land and over land; and because open water could

be traced to the north-west beyond the bare reefs of the Hayes Islands,

and heavy clouds over Markham Sound seemed to indicate that the ice had

broken up in it also, I decided to try the way over the glaciers of

Wilczek Land. Everything depended on the unbroken state of the ice in the

southern parts of Austria Sound. Dejected as I was, I finished my sketch

of this dreadful scene, while Orel went back to caution the men against

venturing on the young ice and to tell them to keep to the old ice under

the land. While the men were struggling with the great sledge in the

snow, I descended from my higher point of view, and, soaked through by

the surf, went along the ice-strand in a south-easterly direction towards

Wilczek Land. The others followed, and though we came on many fissures

merely covered with snow, we yet reached _terra firma_ in safety, Orel

skilfully guiding the movements of the sledge according to the signs

agreed on.

[Illustration: DRAGGING THE SLEDGE UNDER THE GLACIERS OF WILCZEK LAND.]

13. But soon afterwards everything was veiled in mist; the temperature

rose to 7° F., then came driving snow, which gradually increased to a

snow-storm, and in order not to be cut off we were obliged once more to

keep together. Dreadful as the weather was, we could not venture to put

up the tent; march we must, in order to escape before the wind destroyed

the ice-bridges on the way back. We trudged along under enormous glacier

walls, enveloped in whirling snow. Sounding all round, we escaped the

abysses with difficulty. We could scarcely even breathe and make head a

against the wind. Our clothes were covered with snow, our faces were

crusted with ice, eyes and mouth were firmly closed, and the dark sea

beneath us was hidden from our view. We ceased to hear even its roar,

the might of the storm drowning everything else. Haller, a few paces

ahead, continually sounded, so as to keep us clear of fissures. We could

scarcely follow him or recognise his form. We saw nothing even of the

enormous glacier walls under which we toiled along, except that at times

we caught a glimpse of them towering aloft. At every hundred paces we

halted for a few minutes to remove the ice which formed itself on our

eyes and round our mouths. We stilled our hunger with the hope, that we

should find and dig out the body of the bear which we had shot a month

ago. But we dared not rest, nor await the abatement of the storm, until

we had crossed the glacier and felt the firm ground, free from ice,

beneath our feet. This we compassed after a march of seven hours. Utterly

exhausted, we then put up the tent on a stony slope, got beneath it,

white with snow, wet through and stiffened with ice; notwithstanding our

hunger, we lay down to sleep without eating. Not a morsel of bread could

we venture to serve out from the small stock of provisions that remained.

Our prospects were gloomy in the extreme. If open water, or even a broad

fissure at Cape Frankfort, separated us from the ship, we must inevitably

perish on the shores of Wilczek Land.

[Illustration: THE SLEDGE IN A SNOW-STORM.]

14. The snow-storm still continued to rage; hunger, cold, and moisture

forbade sleep, and the dogs, covered with snow, lay in front of the tent.

On the 20th of April (the thermometer marking 3° F.), after a breakfast

more suited for a patient under typhus fever than for men hungry as

wolves, we left the tent in our still wet clothes, and while standing

on its sheltered side to wait till it was cleared, our clothes froze

into coats of mail. As we went on, the terrible weather blew out of us

almost all that remained of our courage and resolution. It was evening

before the storm abated, but we had the good fortune to find the iceberg

with our last depôt in its former position close to the shore. There

were the 45 lbs. of boiled beef, and there, too, the bear lying two feet

deep in snow. It took us an hour to dig him out and load our sledge with

this frozen mass, which we were glad to call provision. After each of

us had devoured 3 lbs. of boiled beef and bear’s flesh, on we went. To

our inexpressible joy the open water had retreated to the west, and we

were able to get round it by making a considerable bend. The numerous

fissures which crossed our path we succeeded in evading, and by ascending

icebergs were able to pick our way, till at last we arrived safely at

Cape Frankfort (80° 20′ N. L.). At its base we found, to our great

satisfaction, the land-ice running without break towards the ship. This

amounted, in fact, to deliverance, and we celebrated our joy at the event

by a glass of grog. The next thing to be done was to search for the depôt

of provisions on Schönau Island.

[Illustration: DIGGING OUT THE DEPÔT.]

15. On the 21st of April (the thermometer marking -7° F.) Orel led

with the large sledge, while I remained behind with the dog-sledge, in

order, from an elevation at Cape Frankfort, to complete the measurement

of certain angles indispensable for the maps I was constructing. We

joined company again nearly opposite Cape Berghaus, and together crossed

a broad reach covered with ice-hummocks. The weather was clear, and

brilliantly-marked parhelia hung over the dark blue background of the

mountains. We again came on very deep snow, and as we advanced with

much difficulty and great exertion, we got rid of the bear, after we

had cut off from it every portion that could be used for food. The

relief, however, was not great, and we were repeatedly compelled to halt

and rest. Lukinovich and the much-enduring Zaninovich were taken with

fainting-fits, the consequence of their excessive exertions. Indeed we

were all more or less faint and emaciated. During one of these halts,

in order to quicken their failing energies, I held forth to them on the

astonishing example of MacClintock’s sledge journeys. The Dalmatians

freely expressed their admiration of those Englishmen, but the Tyrolese

were rather slow to believe.

[Illustration: THE MIDNIGHT SUN BETWEEN CAPE BERGHAUS AND KOLDEWEY

ISLAND.]

16. Soon after midnight on the 22nd of April (the thermometer standing

at -6° F.) we reached Schönau Island, round which the ice had broken

up, so that we frequently fell into the fissures. As we erected our

tent, the sun was setting behind the violet-coloured edges of the

ice-hummocks, while the lofty pinnacle of Cape Berghaus stood out

sharply marked against the sky. The situation of the island we had

reached being extremely favourable, on the highest point of it, I took

some observations, which completed the surveys which I had made during

this expedition. Close to the eastward of us, the ice had broken up

round Hochstetter Island. Orel had meanwhile put up the tent, and Klotz

had dug out the depôt of provisions, which, to our great joy, we found

had not been disturbed by bears. The danger of starvation was at an

end, and after satisfying the claims of hunger we enjoyed a delicious

sleep of seven hours, and again set forth. We were still twenty-five

miles from the ship. This distance I now determined to compass with the

dog-sledge with all the speed possible, in order to ascertain whether

the _Tegetthoff_ remained where we left her. Orel was to follow close

with the large sledge. The day was of unusual brightness. All the land,

which a month ago had been the home of storms and enveloped in snow, now

shone in the sunlight, and the walls of rock wore their natural brown

colour. My route lay close under Koldewey and Salm Islands. At first

every fragment which had fallen from a glacier on either of these islands

was used as a pretext by the dogs for turning out of the course, and the

trail of a bear seemed quite to distract them. It was to little purpose

that I went on first to show them the way. No sooner was the least

liberty allowed them, than they used it to make now for Cape Tegetthoff,

then for Cape Berghaus, and, in preference to every other point, for the

sun! Ever and anon Torossy dragged Jubinal out of the road, and this

unruliness lasted till we came on the old sledge track, which was almost

obliterated by the snow. Suddenly they seemed to feel as if they had

entered on a familiar region. With their heads raised, and tails in the

air, they now rushed along at the rate of 180 paces in a minute, though

I had now taken my place on the sledge. The south-west corner of Salm

Island was beset by a crowd of apparently stranded icebergs. Under the

sheltered side of one of these colossal masses I made a short halt, and

lighted the cooking-machine to thaw some boiled beef, and enjoy a meal

in common with my canine companions, who regarded all my movements with

fixed attention. Just as I was intently observing a small dark point

on the horizon advancing in my direction—it was Orel and his party—the

iceberg, in whose stability I was placing complete confidence, suddenly

capsized, and, rolling on to the ice, shivered into fragments. In an

instant I was surrounded by fissures, pools of water, and rolling pieces

of ice. Seizing the cooking-machine, which I had lighted, I escaped with

great difficulty. I had often observed, that icebergs were surrounded

by circles of shattered surface-ice, with sea-water standing in their

fissures. The overturning of icebergs, which occurs, I apprehend, more

frequently than is generally imagined, easily accounts for the fact. It

is therefore advisable to shun the immediate neighbourhood of an iceberg

when the tent has to be erected, and to avoid using the iceberg itself as

a place for a depôt of provisions.

[Illustration: THE “TEGETTHOFF” DESCRIED.]

17. When I turned into the narrow passage between Salm and Wilczek

Islands, Orgel Cape, visible at a great distance, was the only dark spot

in the scene. At once the dogs made for it, and about midnight I arrived

there. A few hundred steps further, and I should stand on the top of it,

and see the ship, if ship were there. With an anxious, heavy heart, I

then began the ascent. A stony plateau stretched before me. With every

advancing step, made with increasing difficulty, the land gradually

disappeared, and the horizon of the frozen sea expanded before me—an

immeasurable white waste. No ship was to be seen—no trace of man for

thousands of miles, save a cairn, with the fragments of a flag fluttering

in the breeze, and a grave covered with snow-drifts. Still I climbed on.

Suddenly three slender masts emerged—I had found the ship: there she lay

about three miles off, appearing on the frozen ocean no bigger than a

fly. The snow-drifts and icebergs around her had hitherto concealed her

from my eye. I directed my telescope towards her, and every spar and sail

I saw seemed to promise a happy conclusion to our expedition. I held the

heads of the dogs towards the ship, and pointed with my arm to where she

lay, that they might share in my joy. We soon descended, and took our

way towards her. At about a hundred yards off the watch detected us. All

on board but the men who composed it were asleep, for it was night. At

first they were exceedingly alarmed to see me alone, but having calmed

their apprehensions, I went down at once into the cabin to awaken the

sleepers. Great was the joy caused by the account of the high latitude we

had reached, and of the discoveries we had made, which I endeavoured to

explain by the rough outline of a map which I sketched. In a few hours

the stock of questions was answered and exhausted, and everyone now left

the ship to welcome the approaching party, which was soon descried with

the sledge-flag flying. Hearty and joyful were the mutual greetings; and

the appetite of the emaciated adventurers occupied this night and for a

week afterwards, all the attention of the rest of the crew.[51] We formed

a strange group to look upon, but Klotz carried off the palm from us

all. He had never shown any weakness in counteracting the effects of

weather and exposure on his motley garments. His cap, a wondrous piece

of patchwork, resembled the winged helmet of a knight-errant, and of his

boots nothing remained but the feet, over which hung the legs of them in

shreds and tatters. Carlsen, when he saw him stepping along proudly and

silently, forgot for a moment his walruses, and compared him to Saint

Olaf, who could find only one horse in “Gulbrandsdalen” strong enough to

carry him.

[Illustration: KLOTZ.]

18. During our absence the greatest activity had reigned on board ship.

Weyprecht and Brosch had finished their magnetical observations, and

measured on the ice the base, which I have already mentioned, for the

trigonometrical portion of my surveys. The crew had begun the equipment

of the boats for our return to Europe, and packed up the provisions in

water-tight cases. The number of the sick had diminished; the frost-bites

had yielded to a persevering course of poultices and baths. The only

unpropitious circumstance was the accident which had befallen Stiglich,

who had shattered his right arm by accidentally discharging a rifle.

Sores and wounds in Arctic regions are difficult to heal, and especially

during the winter. Thanks to the care of our physician, Stiglich’s severe

wound healed more quickly than many a slighter injury during the cold

period of the year. The sanitary condition had essentially improved,

owing to the rich supplies of fresh meat afforded by the chase. Even

before our arrival the ship’s company had killed several bears. Scarcely

a day now passed without a bear coming near the ship. On the 25th of

April we shot one in the act of tearing down with his fore-paws a cask

sticking in the ice, and on the following day another fell a victim to

the curious attention with which he was regarding some meat packed in a

tin case. Birds also, especially divers, appeared in greater numbers; the

cliffs of Wilczek Island were no longer desolate as before. Hence it was

that we indulged in dishes of stewed birds and roasted bear’s-flesh. We

had brought with us seven bears’ tongues; each day brought an accession,

and our culinary art exercised itself on the refined preparation of

bears’ tongues, which, together with the brains of this animal, were

esteemed the greatest delicacies. Weyprecht, according to agreement,

had caused a boat and provisions for three months to be put on shore,

intended for the use of the sledge-party in the event of the ship being

driven from her moorings. As these precautionary measures could now be

dispensed with, the boat and all these provisions were removed to the

ship. Later experience proved that the exploring party could not have

escaped in this manner, for the united strength of three-and-twenty men

was required to raise and place such a boat on a sledge.

CHAPTER X.

THE THIRD SLEDGE JOURNEY.

1. The weather during the last days of April was truly delightful; calms

and bright sunshine made work and exercise in the open air exceedingly

pleasant, and the temperature never fell below -2° F. But even this

amount of cold was sufficient to retard the softening of the snow for

some days, and favoured the carrying out of a third sledge expedition.

Its intention was the exploration of the western portions of Franz-Josef

Land; for the question of its extension towards Spitzbergen was scarcely

less interesting than its extension towards the North. I should have

liked to devote weeks to the undertaking, but our impending return left a

few days only at my disposal.

2. On the 29th of April (the thermometer marking -2° F.) Lieutenant

Brosch, Haller, and myself left the ship. Jubinal and Torossy were

selected to drag the small sledge, which was equipped for a week’s

expedition; Pekel accompanied us as a volunteer. The measurement of

the angles necessary to complete my survey detained us so long on the

heights of Wilczek Island, that we could not make our start on the level

ice till the next morning. The power of the sun some days was so great,

that the temperature of the tent at noon, when there was no wind, rose

to 63° F., while in the two preceding months it was from 10° F. to -13°

F. If the temperature during the day did not fall more than 6° below

freezing-point, we required no clothes beyond our woollen underclothing

and stockings. As we started in the morning of April 30, some snow

fell, and the mountains were covered with masses of mist, which lay in

horizontal layers half way up their sides. Cape Brünn, however, which

was our goal, lay before us, clear and distinct, and the long glacier

walls, running to the west of it round the edge of MacClintock Island,

were under the constant play of refraction, and could be traced as far as

Cape Oppolzer, from which point they seemed to trend to the north-west.

3. The snow-track of the Sound was still firm, so that our dogs needed

little help in dragging our baggage, especially after we had buried

provision for the return journey in an iceberg. We had scarcely finished

this labour when we discovered a bear’s hole in the layer of snow at its

base, and immediately afterwards we beheld its occupant coming furiously

towards us. Several hasty shots were fired at him, but the bear escaped,

though evidently wounded. The nearer we approached MacClintock Island,

the more frequently we found fissures in the ice running parallel to

the coast and communicating with a small “ice-hole” in the south about

four miles off. Trusting, however, that during the next few days these

fissures would not open so much as to prevent our re-crossing them, we

went on and pitched our encampment near the terminal front of one of the

glaciers of the island.

4. Our dogs continued now, as before, the implacable enemies of bears.

Matotschkin’s sad end had not frightened them into prudence and caution,

doubtless because they counted on our prowess against the common foe. To

them nothing could be a more joyous spectacle than a wounded bear. If in

his flight he became faint and exhausted they surrounded him, bit at his

legs, and did all they could to prevent his getting away, and courage,

as well as love of mischief, was visible in all their actions. Pekel,

small as he was, was the leader in all attacks, and Torossy grew under

his tuition to be at length a formidable assailant. So things proved

now. While we were busily preparing our supper in the tent a young bear

appeared on the scene; before we could stop them, out rushed the dogs on

our visitor, who at first retreated, while the dogs followed hard on his

heels. As it generally happened that the bear, after a time, turned on

his pursuers and gave them chase, we were somewhat alarmed for the safety

of the dogs, especially of Torossy, who sometimes was so stupid as not

to find his way back to the tent without guidance. Just as we expected,

the bear turned and became the pursuer; Torossy taking the lead in the

retreat. Our small stock of cartridges and superfluity of bears’-flesh

might have induced us to gaze at him while he gazed on us, if he had

only kept at a respectful distance; but he would come too near, and

reluctantly we found ourselves under the necessity of killing him and

depriving him of the dainty morsel of his tongue. Forster says that the

flesh of the Polar bear tastes like bad beef, an opinion which we are

able to endorse and confirm, as we had consumed in this expedition about

four bears apiece.

[Illustration: MARKHAM SOUND, RICHTHOFEN PEAK FROM CAPE BRÜNN.]

5. On the 1st of May (the thermometer standing at 4° F.) we purposed to

cross the Simony glacier and ascend the pyramid-like Cape Brünn, whence

we might hope to see at a glance as much of the surrounding country as

would have required a journey of several days on the level to discover.

Unfavourable weather, however, prevented the execution of this project,

and we were obliged to keep in our tent. Lieutenant Brosch, whose duties

in taking magnetical observations stood in the way of his accompanying me

in the previous expeditions, had now the misfortune to injure his foot;

and in consequence of this accident I had to start next morning (May 2)

accompanied only by Haller, to attempt the ascent. Fastened together with

a rope, we passed over the Simony glacier amid heavy snow-storms from the

W.N.W., and in a zigzag course went up the steep pyramid of Cape Brünn.

Never have I made a more disagreeable ascent. A steep, snowy gorge led

through a crown of rocks to the summit, which we reached after a march

of five hours. By an aneroid observation we found the height to be 2,500

feet.

6. If the ascent of a mountain in the face of wind and penetrating cold

demands all the self-command even of men the most inured to fatigues,

it required the additional stimulus afforded by the view of an unknown

land to give us endurance and energy under such circumstances, to sketch,

to take azimuth measurements, and estimate the distances of important

localities. To add to our difficulties, the theodolite was constantly

shaken by the wind, so that every angle had to be observed repeatedly, in

order that an available mean value might be obtained. It was only after

several hours of the most severe labour that my work was completed. My

attention was directed chiefly to the southern parts of Zichy Land, which

formed a vast mountainous region beyond Markham Sound. Half the horizon

was bounded by cliffs and heights gleaming with snow. The conical shape

of the mountains prevailed here also; the only exception was Richthofen

Spitze, the loftiest summit, perhaps, we had seen in Franz-Josef Land,

which rose like a slender white pyramid to the height of about 5,000

feet. The land was everywhere intersected by fiords and covered with

glaciers. Its boundaries towards Spitzbergen, or Gillis’ Land, could not

be determined, because even at the distance of seventy or ninety German

miles, mountain ranges were distinctly to be traced. It would appear,

therefore, that masses of land stretch in this direction to at least

the fiftieth degree, perhaps even to the forty-eighth degree, of east

longitude. We also discovered, that the lands on the south of Markham

Sound were separated by a fiord—Negri Sound. This was already open, and

since some darker spots indicated fissures in the ice in Markham Sound,

it is probable that sledge-journeys can be only undertaken early in the

spring in Franz-Josef Land without the danger of being cut off. At the

time when we made our observations, it was utterly impossible that such

waters could be navigated by any ship, not even if she could be placed

amid these small unconnected “ice-holes.” Haller, whose rheumatic

tendencies unfitted him to bear wind and cold, had, meanwhile, posted

himself in a cleft of rock sheltered from the wind beneath the summit,

but I was quite satisfied with his running to my help, in order to rub

my frozen hands with snow, when I was forced to drop the book in which I

recorded my labours.

7. But however great our delight at the discovery of these unknown

lands—trophies of our endurance—we were much discouraged by the view

towards the south. An enormous surface of ice extended before us—a sad

outlook, as we thought of our return homeward. Although one single

serpentine thread of water, gleaming in the sun, stretched towards the

south-east, separating the land-ice from the field-ice, yet it was

but too certain that the next breeze from the south would again close

it. All save this was a close sheet of ice. We spent some time in

exploring the lower glacier region of the island, so that it was towards

evening before we reached the tent. Much as we desired to prosecute our

explorations, reflection forced us to limit them. In order to penetrate

in a north-westerly direction several days would have been needed; but

as it had been arranged that we must at once begin our return to Europe,

we were constrained to abandon the thought of such a scheme and return

at once to the ship. On the night of the 2nd of May we began our forced

march of two-and-twenty hours, during which we were often bathed in

perspiration, though the temperature on the 3rd of May varied between 5°

F. and -4° F. The dogs alone drew the sledge with ease, though it carried

a load of 3 cwt., giving us such a striking example of what they could

do, that we felt persuaded that a sledge, with a strong team of dogs,

must be the best form, beyond comparison, of sledge-travelling. In the

evening we reached the _Tegetthoff_ and our sledge expeditions came to a

close, after we had travelled in this fashion about 450 miles.

“TEGETTHOFF” ABANDONED: RETURN TO EUROPE.

CHAPTER I.

LAST DAYS ON THE “TEGETTHOFF.”

1. We could now return with honour. The observations and discoveries we

had made could not be wrested from us, and our many anxieties on this

ground were at an end, henceforth the greatest evil that could befall

us was death on our homeward voyage. The intervening days were given up

to the recruiting of our exhausted powers; Klotz called this time the

“plundering of the ship.” Not very much time, indeed, was left for this,

but the short spell of good living, in which we all shared, transformed

the ship into an abode of Epicureans. But withal we redoubled our

diligence to secure the results of our toils and labours. Lieutenant

Weyprecht deposited our meteorological and magnetical readings, the

log-books and the ship’s papers, in a chest lined with tin, and soldered

it down, and a few days afterwards I made exact duplicates of the

surveys, and of measurements, which I had taken. I took especial care so

to prepare these, that another person might be able to construct from

them a map of Franz-Josef Land, should I myself perish on the return

journey. These sheets also were packed in a chest lined with tin and

soldered, and along with them were placed our zoological drawings and

about 200 sketches of the country, of the Arctic Sea and our adventures,

the flag too of the sledge journeys, and my journals. Of the zoological

collection itself, only a small selection of the specimens most easy of

transport could be taken with us.

2. The time passed away with unexpected rapidity; the days had scarcely

begun before they seemed to have come to an end. Everyone was busy in

getting his clothes ready. In the quarters of the crew, sewing went

on without intermission, and piles of thread disappeared under their

fingers, to appear again in the strangest patterns worked on the old

garments. Avalanches of cast-off clothes hung over the hull of the ship.

The vessel—no longer trim as before—came to wear the look befitting the

catastrophe that awaited her. A great number of bears’ carcases lay on

the ice,[52] for only the brain, the tongue, and the prime portions of

the flesh found their way to the kitchen, the remaining parts lay about

half buried under snow-drifts, given up to the dogs to tear to pieces,

who now for the first time found themselves exempted from rations served

out according to time and circumstances. A month later, and such a field

of carnage would have become a very home of pestilence.

3. Short excursions with the dog-sledge enabled us to finish our

observations on the motion of glaciers, which the great depth of

the snow had hitherto made a matter of much difficulty. The last of

these expeditions took place on May 15th. On the spot on which we had

first set our foot, we took farewell of the grave of our departed

comrade and of the Land to which we had drifted through the happy

caprice of an ice-floe, and the discovery of which rendered a return

without humiliation possible. But with this farewell the business of

the expedition came to an end, all our thoughts were now occupied

with getting back to Europe. Of the issue we dared not form the least

conception; but whether it were deliverance or destruction, our lot must

at any rate be decided within three months, as for this period only we

could drag with us the most indispensable provisions.

4. On our equipment Lieutenant Weyprecht and I bestowed much thought and

care, and our measures were carried out with the greatest exactness.

All these were based on the excellent apparatus for sledging already

described; the additional precautions were confined to the more

convenient stowing away of the provisions, and to the diminishing, as

much as possible, of the baggage. The rapid decrease of the cold and

the consequent rise of the temperature, even above the freezing point,

enabled us to reduce our clothing to a minimum without endangering our

health; and no more comfortable sleeping-place for Arctic explorers can

be conceived than the interior of a dry boat, covered in like a tent and

provided with bed-quilts. There was more danger that we should suffer

from heat than from cold; the apprehension of insufficient provisions was

better founded.

5. Three boats were selected for the return expedition. Two of these were

Norwegian whale-boats, 20 feet long, 5 feet broad, and 2½ feet deep.

Lieutenant Weyprecht, Dr. Kepes, Lusina, Orasch, Latkovich, Palmich,

Vecerina and Klotz, formed the complement of the one; and Zaninovich,

Haller, Lukinovich, Scarpa, Stiglich, Pospischill, Midshipman Orel and I,

the complement of the other. The third and somewhat smaller boat carried

Lieutenant Brosch, Captain Carlsen, Cattarinich, Lettis, Sussich, Marola

and Fallesich. Each of these boats rested on a sledge, and was laden with

the following articles:—

10 light oars.

2 long steering oars.

1 sail and mast.

1 ice-anchor.

2 boat-hooks.

1 harpoon and line.

1 fishing-line.

1 small hatchet.

1 ice-borer.

1 screw-driver.

1 caulking-iron.

1 saw.

6 reserve sledge screws.

1 bag of nails.

2 Lefaucheux rifles.

1 Werndl rifle.

1 case with 100 shot cartridges.

1 case with 50 ditto.

2 cases of 50 Lefaucheux cartridges.

25 Werndl cartridges.

8 sledge traces.

6 lamps.

6 weights for measuring provisions.

2 pairs of reindeer shoes.

2 oil cans.

1 bag of nails.

20 boxes of lucifer matches.

1 steel and tinder.

1 compass.

1 sextant.

1 bundle of wicks.

1 telescope.

1 signal horn.

1 50-fathom line.

1 box of lard.

1 pair of tin-cutters.

1 grindstone.

3 bungs.

_Spare Clothes._

1 pair of drawers.

1 shirt.

1 woollen undershirt.

1 pair of trousers.

1 spirit measure.

1 pair of scales.

1 spirit can.

1 lever.

1 funnel.

To each boat was attached a large sledge thus laden:—

Pemmican—4 boxes of 50 lbs. 200

” 1 box of 25 lbs. 25

” 4 boxes of 5 lbs. 20

---- 245

Peasmeal—2 chests of 100 lbs. packed in tin 200

” 1 chest of 100 lbs. packed in paper 100

---- 300

Potted Meat—1 chest of 80 lbs. 80

Boiled Beef—5 chests of 10 tins of 7½ lbs. 375

” ” 4 ” 7½ lbs. 30

---- 405

Flour—3 boxes of 33 lbs. 99

Bread—2 bags of 83 lbs. 166

Chocolate—3 boxes of 30 lbs. 90

Spirits—3 casks, each weighing 77 lbs. 231

Salt—1 box of 12 lbs. 12

Extract of Meat—2 boxes of 5 lbs. 10

Tea—1 box of 3 lbs. 3

----

Total 1641

====

To this must be added 100 lbs. of bread for the dogs, and a shovel and a

complete cooking apparatus for each sledge. Our load therefore amounted

in provisions alone to about 50 cwt., and including everything, to about

90 cwt. Parry, with twenty-eight men, in 1827 had for his journey of

sixty-one days two boats and four sledges, carrying a total weight of

75 cwt.—about 2½ cwt. therefore for each man. Notwithstanding great

obstacles from the ice, his expedition was, perhaps, more favoured than

ours, for he passed over 1½ degrees of latitude in thirty days.

6. Of our dogs, two only, Jubinal and Torossy, were available to drag the

small sledge; 1 cwt. of bread was all we could take for them, and for the

rest they had to depend on the product of the chase. Gillis was shot on

account of his intractability, and Semlja because of her weakness. Only

Pekel was allowed to accompany us; he only of the dogs had the right

of going about at liberty; yet his life too was safe as long as our

provisions lasted.

7. Our stock of clothes consisted of two woollen shirts, one pair of

woollen drawers, three pairs of stockings, leather water-boots, a

cap, and of a fur-coat to sleep in. Clean woollen under-garments were

much in request, and many a manœuvre was practised to get possession

of them. Each of the party carried besides a large knife, a spoon, and

a pair of snow-spectacles. Of luxuries none were permitted to us but a

tobacco-pouch to each man; but filled with such art that it was like a

stone in weight. We were not allowed to line our coats with tobacco.

8. Our plan was simple—to reach the depôt of provisions on the Barentz

Islands, which lay in an almost directly southerly direction. After

replenishing our stores there, we proposed to follow the coast of Novaya

Zemlya with the hope of reaching one of those ships which the salmon

fishery in the rivers of that country detains there to the beginning

of harvest. It was also not impossible that we might be discovered

before this, on the more northern coast of Novaya Zemlya, by a Norwegian

seal-hunter. The boats were to keep together if possible; but in case

they should be separated, the Wilhelm Islands were fixed on as the place

of rendezvous up to the middle of August. At first, night was chosen for

the march, and day was devoted to sleep; the observance, however, of this

regulation was constantly prevented by special circumstances. The success

of the expedition depended on our crossing the ice-covered sea by the

end of August. The greatest difficulties were to be apprehended from the

melting of the snow, for although the thermometer at the beginning of May

fell 14° and even 17° below zero, and sharp north-east winds somewhat

retarded the thaw, the mean temperature during the day approximated to

zero, and on May 16 it actually rose above it. Two of our men, Stiglich

and Vecerina, were unfit for duty, and had often to be dragged in the

sledge. The rest of the men were healthy, and the swelling of the feet,

from which the sledge-party had suffered, had disappeared.

CHAPTER II.

ON THE FROZEN SEA.

1. The momentous day came at last—the 20th of May, the very day in 1855

on which Kane abandoned his ship;[53] and we hailed with joy the advent

of the hour which was to terminate our life of inaction. Yet we could not

see without emotion the flags nailed to the masts of the _Tegetthoff_,

and the final preparations to leave the ship, which had been our home for

two weary years, and in which we had confronted the perils of the frozen

sea, its ice-pressures, its storms, and its cold. These recollections

crowded upon us as the moment came to abandon her. Now too we had to

part with our Zoological, Botanical, and Geological collections, the

result of so much labour; the ample collection of instruments, the

books which had helped us over many a weary hour, and the sixty-seven

bear-skins which we had so carefully prepared—all these had also to be

abandoned. The photographs of friends and acquaintances we hung on the

rocky walls ashore, preferring to leave them there rather than in the

ship, which must some time or other be driven ashore and go to pieces. A

document stating the grounds of our decision was laid on the table of the

mess-room.

[Illustration: THE FIRST ABANDONMENT OF THE “TEGETTHOFF.”

_To face_ p. 348.]

2. We slept during this day, and in the evening sat down to the last

meal we were to enjoy on board the ship. About nine o’clock, P.M., we

assembled round the boats, ready for the start. Dark masses of clouds

obscured the sun, and our route southwards led us into the gloomy

monotonous region of ice-hummocks covered with snow—our world for the

next three months. The first day’s work for twenty-three men, harnessed

to boat or sledge, was the advance of one mile; and even this rate of

progress, small as it was, was not constant. Many days it did not amount

to half a mile; the sledge-sail was of little avail, for the deep snow

retarded our progress; the sledges sank deep into it, those on which the

boats were placed actually sticking fast. We had to pass three times

heavily laden, and twice empty, over every bit of the road, and half our

number were scarcely able to move a sledge or a boat. Such labours and

exertions in deep snow were truly distracting. Almost at every step we

sank knee-deep. Sometimes some unhappy fellows went in deeper still; of

Scarpa, it was asserted that scarcely anything but his head was visible

while he dragged. Constantly we had either to unload the sledge, or,

harnessing ourselves all together for a moment, drag it out of the deep

snow-drift. For one-half of the march we might get on without special

impediment, the other half was spent in vain efforts to push the load on,

amid “Aussingen,”[54] to time the strong pull and the pull all together.

The perspiration often streamed down our faces, for the sky was overcast,

and the air exceedingly sultry. After the exertion of some days, raw

wounds appeared on the shoulders of several. After a bit of our track

had been passed over three times in the way described, it was like a

path in the snow hollowed out by the shovel, so that we had spent our

strength in levelling it, but hardly in satisfactory progress. To add to

our trials, we suffered intensely from thirst, and those among us who

were unaccustomed to the fatigues of sledge-travelling, sank down in the

snow at every halt and greedily ate of it. If such were to be the course

of our journey, would escape be possible? Not a man among us imagined

that we could be saved, except by some extraordinary and happy turn of

fortune, small signs of which were at present to be seen. To escape from

this depressing fear, we deliberately avoided every allusion to the

future.

3. The dogs, under the superintendence of Carlsen, took their part in

the transport of the baggage, but showed themselves very lazy and

intractable under his management, and seemed to take a pleasure in

plunging their loaded sledge deep into the snow, out of which it was

beyond the old man’s power to free them without help. Nor was their own

strength equal to going over the track twice at least, even with only

one cwt. each time. If, therefore, their services were to be turned

to account, they must be led by some one whom they obeyed, who could

help them by shoving or dragging, who could set up the sledge when it

overturned, and was strong enough to keep constantly lifting the heavy

bags, and who could pass over the same piece of road four or five times,

if necessary. This duty was taken in turn by Haller and myself, and

we succeeded in transporting in this way daily all the bread and the

spirits, weighing together from 8 to 10 cwt., and, in some cases, at a

later period, even the entire load of a great sledge divided into parts.

I mention this in order to show the great services which our dogs, though

their number was small, rendered during the march.

4. In the first week after the _Tegetthoff_ was abandoned, whenever

Weyprecht encamped at the end of the day’s march, Haller, Zaninovich and

I returned in the dog-sledge to the ship in order to replenish the stores

we had consumed. The distance, which we had taken a week to pass with

all our baggage, was done by the help of the dogs in an hour or two. In

these different visits we did our utmost to fulfil the commissions of our

companions. We rummaged the hold, though in many of the cases we opened

nothing was to be seen but a dressed bear-skin. In one of these trips we

filled a small cask with a concentrated decoction of all the tea which

was left behind, and the rum we found was used to give it the proper

strength. When we returned to the boat-parties before the morning start,

this still lukewarm decoction of tea and rum met with great approbation,

but the greatest was reserved for the remains of the condensed milk we

brought with us, not merely because it was milk, but because to us it was

the only milk in the world. Round the remains of the bears we had killed

we always found flocks of sea-gulls screaming and quarrelling. Sometimes

too we saw bears prowling round the ship at a distance, waiting till

their time for plunder came. They seemed to wait for the moment when they

should be able to take permanent possession of a fortress which had been

so long hostile to their race.

5. But we had the benefit of their company through the earlier part of

our journey. May 23, a bear was shot by Weyprecht, and forthwith the

gulls, who always turned up whenever there was anything eatable to be

got, consumed the remains with astonishing rapidity, even to the bones.

On the 26th, when I was about two miles from the advanced parties,

fetching something which had been left behind, I suddenly sighted a bear

at about 100 paces distant, lying in the snow and apparently asleep.

The dogs too got sight of him, and I had much trouble in keeping them

in, till I overturned the sledge to act as a breast-work. As the bear

rose and stood on his hind legs I fired, but though severely wounded,

he managed to crawl away. The dogs, rushing off with the sledge behind

them, assailed the wounded animal with a fury which would have been

fatal to them, if the sledge had been checked by any obstacle. Torossy

specially showed a complete ignorance of how matters stood, and was saved

by Jubinal from the paws of his assailant. Whenever the bear came up to

the sledge, Jubinal swung round with it, till I came up so close as to

make sure of killing it with my last cartridge. On the 31st, Klotz shot a

bear which came within ten paces of the boats; but notwithstanding this

addition of fresh meat, the stores we brought in the dog-sledge from the

ship maintained their charm.

[Illustration: IN THE HARBOUR OF AULIS.]

6. A few days after the abandonment of the ship, dark masses of clouds,

indicating open water, were seen in the south-west, which doubtless

proceeded from the fissures we had observed three weeks before from Cape

Brünn. There was good ground, therefore, to hope that we should get

beyond the land-ice in a few days, and reach the network of ever-changing

“leads.” If we succeeded in this, we might then launch the boats in

one of these water-ways, and following the windings of its course

between the fields of ice, escape to the south with greater rapidity.

Our most sanguine expectations were exceeded when, on the 28th, we

reached unexpectedly a small flat island, the very existence of which

was unknown to us—Lamont Island. Ascending the highest point of it, we

saw an “ice-hole” stretching to the south-east, in which was floating

an enormous table-shaped iceberg. This “ice-hole” was not more than a

mile from the southern extremity of the island, which was itself still

surrounded by forced-up blocks of ice. A driving snow-storm detained us

on the 29th on the island, and we contented ourselves with gathering

pieces of drift-wood lying on the shore. On the 30th we delayed no longer

in our attempt to advance to the edge of the floes and launch our boats.

But our calculations were doomed to disappointment; after a toilsome

search of several days to find a suitable spot from which to launch

our boats, we were convinced that this was for the present impossible,

because the edges of the “ice-hole” were surrounded with broad barriers

of broken ice, rendering the passage of the boats and sledges impossible.

Weyprecht and Klotz had meanwhile started to reconnoitre, and their

report on their return showed that sledging, for the present at least,

was at an end. The ice-hole before us extended far eastward, and the

attempt to outflank it would have led us through walls of ice piled up

to the height of fifty feet. We went back, therefore, to the more level

surface of ice we had left, and pitched our camp, which we called the

“Harbour of Aulis;” for, like the Greeks of old, we had here to wait for

more favourable winds. Winds only could open the ice before us and widen

the “leads” into a navigable condition. We had never kept at any great

distance from our boats while engaged in transporting their heavy loads,

but henceforward we were careful to keep close to them, as we had every

reason to look for the speedy breaking up and separation of the ice. We

were now in 79° 46′ N. L., and therefore only five miles from the ship.

Cape Tegetthoff was still distinctly visible on our northern horizon.

7. The space in the boats being insufficient for the crew and all the

baggage we had to take, Weyprecht determined to send back Orel and nine

men to bring away the jolly-boat, which had been left behind, and I went

on in the dog-sledge to help in the work of removing more stores from

the ship. It took me just three hours to do the distance, which it had

cost the advanced parties eight days to accomplish. The activity of the

dogs received a fresh stimulus from their coming on the track of a bear

running in the direction of the ship, and when we came within 1,000 yards

of it, there we saw our enemy, who, however, thought it more prudent not

to await our attack. On the 7th of June the equipment of the jolly-boat

was completed, and we returned to our companions with a load of 3 cwt.

of boiled beef, shot, and other necessaries. The old track, now well

trodden down, proved a great advantage to us. If we had deviated a single

step, we should at once have stuck fast, for the character of the snow

had altered, and where it lay in masses it had become mere sludge. The

temperature, which at the end of May had varied between 25° and 19° F.,

rose, on June 1, to freezing-point, and remained steady at that point

for some time. Even during the weeks of midsummer the temperature rose

only a few degrees above freezing-point. On the 3rd of June it rained for

the first time, and gradually the weather assumed the character of fogs

and driving mists so common to the Arctic Ocean. Clear days were of rare

occurrence, and, occasionally only, the sun shone for a few hours. On our

return to the boats we found their crews were sitting up and looking out,

like young birds in a nest, to see what we had brought from the ship.

Tobacco was regarded as a right royal gift, and Dr. Kepes, to whom I gave

a shirt-sleeve well stuffed out with the precious weed, regarded himself

as a Crœsus.

8. Meantime our longings to launch grew apace; anxiously we looked for

the widening of a fissure to enable us to advance southward. We attempted

again and again to approach the “ice-hole,” but always found insuperable

difficulties to bar the way. The effort to get one of our boats into a

dock we had hewn in the ice nearly ended in its loss, and nothing was

left to us but to repeat the flank march along the fatal “ice-hole”

to the “harbour of Aulis,” there to watch for the breaking-up of the

ice. Throughout the day we sat penned up in the boats, worn-out with a

feeling of indescribable weariness, each morning longing for the end of

the day, and at every meal thinking when the next would be ready. It

seemed as if the time for launching the boats would never come. When the

hoarse melancholy scream of the burgomaster-gull sounded through the

stillness of the night, it seemed like a demon voice from another world,

proclaiming that all our efforts would avail nothing to deliver us from

the icy power which held us in its grasp. A visit from a bear was a

welcome change in the monotony of our life.

9. We were now in the middle of June. Winds from the south still

prevailed, and we were close to the ship at the expiration of some

weeks; the third part of our provisions was consumed, and of the 250

German miles between the ship and coast of Lapland we had accomplished

but one mile and a quarter. If this should continue to be the rate of

our progress, we had the prospect of reaching home in twenty years!

Yet gloomy as things appeared, there were moments when we were tempted

to think that the end of our trials had come at last. Thus, on the

17th of June, an “ice-hole” opened close to us; instantly we prepared

to take advantage of it. The day was perfectly clear, and though the

temperature in the shade stood at freezing-point (F.), it was to us an

African heat. We threw down the walls of ice, levelled a track for the

sledges, and that night we stood, with all our baggage, at the edge of

the open water, and, on the morning of the 18th of June, we at last

succeeded in launching our boats and putting all our baggage on board.

The sledges, fastened to the boats, were towed in their wake. The dogs

were put in the different boats, Jubinal alone taking kindly to his new

abode, seeing doubtless that he would have to sleep no longer on snow.

After drinking some tea with the last remains of our rum, we pushed off,

steering towards the south, and it was a sure sign of the elevation of

our spirits, that three-and-twenty tobacco-pipes were immediately put

into active operation. Our progress, however, was but small, scarcely

more than one mile an hour, which was fully accounted for by the deep

lading of the boats and the towing of the sledges. We might have sailed

about three miles, steering in a southerly direction, when a heavy floe

stopped us and progress for the time being impossible, we drew the boats

up on the ice and went to rest. Soon after snow began to fall and a west

wind set in which gradually veered to the south, and the floes were

again forced together, and we found all the “leads” closed up when we

attempted to move on in the morning. Again we had to wait, but with this

difference, that we were now at the mercy of the wind, which might drive

us with the floe, on which we happened to be, wherever it pleased.

[Illustration: WE LAUNCH AT LAST.]

10. On the 19th of June we had to lie still in our boats, but next day

we were able to push them to the edge of a fissure, into which we let

them down, unlading them and lading them afresh on the opposite side;

our progress during the day thus amounted to a mere change of encampment

from one floe to another floe. The absence of navigable “leads” prevented

our advancing further. Our position remained unaltered for the next two

days, the only event that occurred being the shooting of a seal (_Phoca

Grœnlandica_), which sufficed to make the soup we had for supper somewhat

more palatable. He had fallen to the gun of Weyprecht, who proved to be

the luckiest of us all in seal-hunting, in which only the persevering

succeed. Every seal that was shot was of course a saving of the stock of

our provisions, and hence the killing of these animals was a matter of

extreme importance to us, and the preservation of our lives depended in a

very great measure on our success.

11. Nothing can give a better idea of our life at this period than a few

quotations from my journal:—

“_June 23._—Things have improved a little towards the south; in the

forenoon of this day we passed over two water-holes and two floes, thus

advancing about a quarter of a mile. The intervention of a third floe

hindered us from penetrating into another ‘ice-hole.’ After midnight the

ice again opened, and we sailed several hundred paces further.

“_June 24._—Early in the morning Orel shot a seal of unusual size. We

dragged on for half a mile over a large field of ice to its southern

edge, but found, on our arrival there, that an accumulation of smaller

floes barred our advance.

“_June 25._—We could not sail a bit further; winds from the north-east

prevailed; our latitude was 79° 16′. After leaving the ice under the

land, the depth of the snow considerably diminished, so that the sledges

on which the boats were placed could be dragged on much more easily than

before. There were, however, no pools of thaw-water on the ice, though we

had observed such much earlier in the preceding year.

“_June 26._—Several hours occupied in passing over ice-fields and small

‘ice-holes.’ During the halt at noon a bear came within twenty paces

of us, but seeing so many men in motion, ran off. The ice appeared

to be last year’s ice, and was much crushed. Orel at noon took the

latitude by sextant and artificial horizon, and found it 79° 41′—bitter

disappointment.

“_June 27._—With a fresh north-east wind we-sailed to-day over a larger

‘ice-hole,’ our latitude at noon being 79° 39′. In the afternoon we

dragged our sledges for a quarter of a mile over an ice-field, and our

baggage had so diminished that I had to drag with the dog-sledge not

more than 7 cwt. In the lee of large ice-fields, which act like islands,

we find sometimes somewhat more open water-ways.

“_June 28._—Two ice-fields and two ‘ice-holes’ were crossed to-day.

Progress, though small with the boats, would have been simply impossible

with a ship, which could not, like boats, be dragged over floes. Falls

of snow and gleams of sunshine alternate with each other. While the rest

slept a watch was always posted outside the boat to observe the behaviour

of the ice, and to give us timely notice of the approach of a bear.

[Illustration: MARCHING THROUGH ICE-HUMMOCKS]

“_June 29._—Two or three small ‘ice-holes’ and some ice-fields were

crossed to-day. The last ice-field we dragged over was of considerable

extent. To-day, for the first time, we made the attempt, with great

success, to force the boats through narrow ‘leads’ by means of poles.

Another seal was got. Every one of us had now learnt, by force of habit,

to eat half a pound of seal blubber with our tea at noon, and to eat it

with pleasure. It was some comfort to the more delicate and sensitive

to be assured that it tasted like butter, and many experiments had been

made on the edibility of the tins during the last few days. Kane came

to consider seal fin as a kind of salad. We cooked it in our soup, and

the dogs at last went beyond us in the high estimate they placed on

this article of diet. It is worth remarking, albeit it seems to be a

contradiction, that though we had all an abhorrence of fatty substances

during the sledge-journeys in the coldest period of the year, we now

took to them with great relish when the weather was warm. In fact we

never felt better than after a noon-day meal at which we had consumed

a considerable quantity of blubber. Our digestion was particularly

good, and those who suffered from stomach complaints, produced by the

continuous use of pease-sausage, ceased to be so affected. The real

ground of this abnormal preference of fatty substances was doubtless the

fact that we had now abundance of drinking water, and did not suffer

therefore from thirst.

[Illustration: HALT AT NOON.]

“_June 30._—A small ‘ice-hole,’ and then a large ice-field were crossed,

and as we were in the act of passing over a ‘lead’ filled with broken

ice, it suddenly closed, and we had to draw our boats up again, and to

wait till the ice should part asunder. The snow has become quite soft,

and we find water at the bottom of a hole, and employ it for the first

time for cooking. Cape Tegetthoff and Salm Island are still visible The

dogs to-day drew 12 cwt., and are quite exhausted. I had my hair cut by

Klotz, and, with many apologies for my poverty, offered him some water

in compensation—an offer he declined. In the Arctic Seas, even to the

doctor, a glass of water is a handsome fee.”

So it runs on for weeks together in my journal; and if it be tiresome

for readers to follow such repetitions, how much more wearisome must it

have been to live through and experience them! Yet if it were possible

for our situation to become worse, it did so during the first half of the

following month.

[Illustration: CROSSING A FISSURE.]

12. On the 1st of July the whole of our day’s labour consisted in passing

over a fissure. The observations taken at noon gave 79° 38′ as our

latitude, so that during the last four days we had gained one single

minute only. Next day we lay amid fragments of floes closely packed

together, and there were neither “ice-holes” nor fields of ice over

which we could pass. On the 3rd of July we crossed some fissures with

great difficulty and traversed two small ice-fields, but a wind from the

S.E. set in, and our observations showed 79° 38′ N. latitude; while we

discovered from our longitude that we were only four miles to the east

of the ship. The small amount of drift discernible in the ice, with such

strong winds, was a sad sign of its closely packed condition.

13. With imperturbable patience we continued to drag our heavy loads

over the ice, and on the 4th imagined that we had penetrated a mile in

a southerly direction; but the wind from the S.E. blew so persistently

that when we took our observations on the following day we found our

latitude 79° 40½′, and that we had thus been actually driven back towards

the north-west, and that the toils of the last three weeks had been

fruitless. On the 5th and 6th the ice lay before us in piled-up masses

rendering progress impossible, and we were compelled to rest, consuming

our provisions without getting one step further. Our seal-hunting also

on those days was seldom successful. For hours the hunters lurked round

the edges of ice-holes, sometimes without seeing a single seal come to

the surface; and when at last the animal did make its appearance, it very

often sunk after it was hit, before a boat could be launched. Those we

saw on the edges of ice-holes showed a dexterity in diving out of the

way of mischief which failed, as things were, to excite our admiration.

The bears, even more than the seals, showed a prudence and caution which

their previous behaviour had not led us to expect. On the first of those

days a bear came pretty near us, but the dogs, alas! rushed at him and

drove him away. Henceforward when the dogs were not dragging they were

secured with ropes, but our prudence came too late.

14. On the 7th there was no change. The day passed away in moving from

one floe with rotten edges to another somewhat more firm. We only shoved

our boats a few hundred yards through the lakes of thaw water which had

formed themselves on the ice. Our latitude was 79° 43′.

15. On the 8th we got away in a narrow “lead” a few hundred paces

southward, but after getting so far we were stopped by thickly-packed

ice, and again we had to draw our boats out of the water and recommence

our life of painful expectancy—watching for the ice to open. No one

of the party suffered so much from this depressing state of things as

Carlsen. For more than twenty years the old and tried “ice-master” had

lived amid floes and ice-blinks, manfully and successfully fighting

against the hardships of the Arctic Seas, and now that frailties had

increased on him, he saw himself compelled to such toils and privations

as would have taxed his strength even in his prime. The old polar

navigator bore his burthens without murmur or complaint, though it was

painful to others to see the signs of exhaustion in his appearance. He no

longer spoke of the polar bears and walruses, which he had entranced by a

glance of his eye or bewitched with one of his words of magic. Even the

puritanical zeal with which he once rebuked and lectured the Slavonians

for playing cards on “God’s holy day” had grown somewhat cold, and his

fears lest the conversations of the lively Southerners should end in

blows became even more intense.

[Illustration: CARLSEN.]

16. It was a strange life this abode for weeks of summer in boats covered

over with a low tent roof. Oars by way of furniture, and three pairs of

stockings for each man’s mattress and pillow. My journal describes these

days: “Four boats are lying on the ice, crammed with sleeping men: and

so great is the heat in them, that no one needs his fur coat, and snow

placed in any vessel becomes water in a few hours. If Torossy has not

ushered in the day by barking, the cooks do it when they bring the bowls

of soup to the boats with the cry ‘Quanta!’ Then ensues a short scene

of confusion: spoons and tin-pots have to be searched for and found,

till at length quiet is again restored, after a little ransacking, and

each man has his pot full of hot soup in his hand, consisting of meal,

pemmican, pease-sausage, bread-dust, boiled beef, seal, and bears’ flesh;

when the soup is flavoured with seal-blubber it is called ‘Gulyas.’ The

soup is consumed amid perfect silence—not a word is spoken; what indeed

was there to be said, which was not already known, or which had not been

said a hundred times before? Each one knows the other’s history from his

cradle downwards. A stillness like death reigns over all the surrounding

forms of ice, and the frozen ocean stretches out beneath a vast shroud.

A sunless leaden sky spreads over all, not a breath of air stirs, it is

neither warm nor cold, slowly melts the snow, and this pale realm of ice

forms a world of danger and difficulty, against which are matched the

strength and sagacity of three-and-twenty men!

“Again all have taken their places in the boats to bale out the thaw

water, the great enemy of their health—and of their solitary pair of

boots. He whose turn it is to hunt the seal squats at the edge of a floe

before a fissure, which admits a few square feet of water, in which no

seal will show himself, because he has scarcely room to turn in it.

“To the others, their abode in the boats is a time of manifest weariness

and ennui. Happy the man who has any tobacco, happy he who, after smoking

his pipe, does not fall into a faint; happy too the man who finds a

fragment of a newspaper in some corner or other, even if there should be

nothing contained in it but the money-market intelligence, or perhaps

directions to be followed in the preparation of pease-sausage. Enviable

is he who discovers a hole in his fur coat which he can mend; but

happiest of all are those who can sleep day and night. Of these latter

some have stowed themselves away under the rowing seats, and above them

reposes a second layer of sleepers, but nothing is visible of either

party but the soles of their feet. No paradise of bliss! Noon comes: a

little tea is made over the train-oil fire, each gets one cup of it and

a handful of hard bread-crumbs—a kind of dog’s food which the impartial

‘committee of provisions’ measures out with Argus-eyes. The fourth part

of the skin of a seal is thrown into each of the four boats, and the

blubber on it is eagerly devoured. Some, for the sake of the fins, the

ribs, or the head, become guests of the dogs. Flocks of gulls settle

impudently near us, screaming and fighting for every morsel they can

reach. Some of us try to catch them with nets, but no sooner are the nets

up than the gulls disappear.

“The formality of dinner is over, and we have come to such a pass that

even the tea excites the nerves of the community, and some Troubadour

will then raise his voice with a _bravura_ such as might have been

heard on San Marco. The end of the Franklin expedition, and the history

of the two skeletons which were found in the boat, is told again for

the twentieth time—a story which never fails to produce a harrowing

effect, and to rouse the firm and resolute to yet greater efforts and

self-command.

“The most animated conversation, however, or rather a constant

chattering, is going on meantime in the soot-begrimed tent of the cook. A

difference of opinion arises about the precise time when the kettle was

to be scraped out, or about the curtailing of the allowance in the last

distribution of salt, or as to the delinquent who made a wood-fire on a

cask of spirit, or who, instead of untying, cut the string of the sledge

packing; many flourishes of speech are bandied to and fro, which at any

rate speak well for the oratorical gifts of the disputants.

“There is still, however, one solace left us, the solace of smoking. Some

indeed have already exhausted their whole stock of tobacco. He who has

half a pouch of it at his disposal is the object of general respect, and

the man who can invite his neighbour to a pipe of tobacco and a pot of

water is considered to do an act of profuse liberality. Tobacco becomes

a medium of exchange among us, and provisions are bought and paid for

with it, its value rising every day. There is no difference between day

and night, and Sundays are only distinguished by dressing the boats with

flags.”

17. In this enforced idleness passed away the days between the 9th and

15th inst., save that on the 14th we changed our place by three hundred

yards, in order to select a more convenient spot for seal-hunting and to

keep up the appearance of travelling—but in truth only the appearance,

for in reality our situation had become truly dreadful. There were no

events of sudden occurrence either to excite or alarm us, but time flowed

on, and our constantly diminishing stock of provisions, like the steady

movement of the hands of a clock, spoke with a plainness of speech,

that could not be resisted, of the doom impending over us. Hitherto we

had patiently endured the severe labours of dragging our heavily-laden

boats and sledges from floe to floe, of launching the boats in the small

fissures, and again drawing them on to the floes, when the ice became

closely packed, often too carrying all the provisions and baggage as we

slowly crept along. The least progress was sufficient to fill us with

joy and thankfulness. Meanwhile the ice on all sides lay closely packed,

and many times we had to wait for a week in our boats on a floe, till

the “leads” were pleased to open, while every empty tin case proclaimed,

with fearful distinctness, the diminishing of our provisions and the

gloominess of our prospects; and now a steady wind from the south

destroyed the little progress we had made. _After the lapse of two months

of indescribable efforts, the distance between us and the ship was not

more than nine English miles!_ The heights of Wilczek Island were still

distinctly visible, and its lines of rocks shone with mocking brilliance

in the ever-growing day-light. All things seemed to say that after a

long struggle with the supremacy of the ice there remained for us but a

despairing return to the ship and a third winter there, stript of every

hope, and the Frozen Ocean for our grave!

18. Such reflections and prospects were not calculated to raise our

spirits or promote calm and deliberate thought, and it was happy for us

that the earth was round, and that we were thus prevented from seeing how

much ice lay between us and the open sea. No measures were left untried

which promised to facilitate our progress or prolong our lives. We ceased

to cook with oil, and used spirit instead, in order to lighten the boats.

The rations of bread were diminished; even our faithful companion little

Pekel fell a victim to necessity. Seals played a greater part still in

our _cuisine_, and everything seemed to depend on the successful use of

the four hundred ball-cartridges which still remained in store. On the

15th of July a walrus showed himself close to the boats, but when we

made a rush upon him to finish him he disappeared under the waters, and

heavy rain drove us back again into the boats. Up to this time all signs

of a happy termination of our venture seemed to have disappeared; but the

hour of our liberation and escape was nearer than we thought.

19. On the evening of the 15th of July, after finishing our supper, a

line of small “leads” running to the south-west opened itself, and we

forced our way for about a mile against wind and current coming from the

same direction. Next day, July 16, the wind blew from the north-west,

and after our boats had been nearly crushed by the ice closing in some

smaller “ice-holes,” we ran into a broader and longer “lead.” At noon

of this day our latitude was 79° 39′, and we had gone so far that

the highest points of Cape Tegetthoff and Wilczek Island were barely

discernible—blue shadows surrounded by an edge of yellow vapour, and over

the whole a heavy water sky.

20. Up to this date we had been compelled to cross every fissure, a

procedure as exhausting for us as it was detrimental to the boats. The

least impediment, such as the stoppage of a “lead” by some pieces of ice,

had sufficed to cause us hours of laborious efforts. The ice lay thick

and close, and its floes were firmly frozen together. But now it was not

only somewhat opened, but seldom cemented by frost, and the efforts of

fifteen or twenty men generally sufficed to shove apart any two floes

with long poles, or remove any barrier which closed a “lead.” If the

“leads” closed in so that there was danger lest the boats should be

crushed, the crew jumped out and hauled them up on the ice.

The accompanying sketch exhibits one of the scenes that occurred almost

daily—the pushing the floes asunder with long poles, in order that the

boat might pass between them, while the rotatory motion of the floe

closes the fissure in the foreground, so that another boat has to be

drawn on the ice as quickly as possible. The baggage of the boat is

represented partly as packed on a sledge, or partly lying on the snow,

and the men and dogs stand ready to drag it over the floe to the next

place of launching. Two other boats, which have found the “lead” open,

are on before, and one of them is lying at an ice-field which has to be

crossed, waiting for the others to come up.

[Illustration: SCENE ON THE ICE.]

21. It sometimes happened that we could not push the floes asunder, and

we were then compelled to cross them; and in those cases where the floes

were a mile or more in diameter, our progress took the form of sledging.

The provision was sent on for some distance to the nearest water, and

the boats, which remained behind under the care of the less able-bodied

of our party, were lifted on to the sledge when it returned by the rest

of the crew, and firmly secured. The smallest of our boats was shoved

through the snow while the dogs with their sledge transported the bags of

bread and the spirit.

22. An advance of four miles a day now sufficed to satisfy us, and we had

acquired such precision in our arrangements before starting that three

hours sufficed to accomplish them. If the sledges came on obstacles from

the ice, the pioneers hurried on with picks and shovels to remove them.

Lakes on the ice were made little of; we waded through them with much

equanimity, and any one who fell into a “lead” while the day’s labour was

going on seemed to take the accident very coolly. On the 17th of July

we had passed, in the way I have described, three ice-fields and three

small “ice-holes;” but on the following day we made very little progress,

because a wind, setting in from the west, packed the ice closely. We

were therefore overjoyed to find our latitude to-day 79° 22′, a result

which could only be ascribed to the late north winds; but we could not

quiet our fears, lest a wind from the south should deprive us of our

dearly-bought advance.

23. We now penetrated into a region full of icebergs, many of which

were covered with earth and moraine dirt, which made them look at a

distance, amid the dazzling uniformity of the ice, like rocky cliffs. In

the evening a she-bear was seen close to us, which came full tilt at our

dogs; at thirty paces off she was hit, but not mortally, and fell; but

getting up again, ran off to an ice-hole, and remained long enough on its

surface to be secured by the harpooners. She afforded us as much food as

four small seals, and some of our party, with the voracity of beasts of

prey, scraping the flesh off the bones for their private use, carried it

about with them wrapped in their pocket-handkerchiefs, and ate about a

pound of it raw every day at noon, as long as it lasted, after merely

washing the carrion in sea-water.

24. On the 19th of July we again passed over several small ice-fields,

and on the 20th and 21st one several miles in diameter. We were favoured

with a north-west wind, and on the 20th of July our latitude was 79°

11′, our longitude 61° 3′, and our progress was so brilliant on the 22nd

(79° 1′ L.), that we were compelled to draw the boats twice only out

of the water, and warping through narrow “leads,” came again to larger

“ice-holes,” over which we were able to sail. Our spirits were greatly

raised, and we went on full of hope that we should soon come into longer

water-ways, which would exempt us from the toils of crossing floes with

the sledges. On the 23rd sudden squalls from the E.N.E., accompanied with

heavy showers of rain, detained us in our covered boats, and our whole

business on this day was collecting the rainwater in an empty spirit-cask

and drinking it as grog. On the 24th we again made good progress. The

rain fell in torrents, and we were wet through and through, and at night

we lay down to rest reeking. The rain continued, but good progress was

made almost without interruption during the next three days. We bore

all the discomforts with joy, because the rain powerfully and rapidly

dissolved the ice.[55] Our clothes were constantly wet, but we eagerly

snatched every gleam of sunshine to dry our stockings or our saturated

boots.

25. The cooks, when they called us in the morning, now constantly drew

such pictures of the day’s prospects, that we might have been tempted

to believe that during the night all the ice had disappeared; but this

pleasing illusion was rudely dispelled whenever we stepped out of the

boats into the open air. These good men, having no compass to consult,

always flattered themselves with the notion that where water was to be

seen, there also lay the south. But, alas! there lay the ice-hummocks,

and there, too, lay the boats and sledges to be dragged as before. Klotz

went a little further; it was his opinion that we ought always to take to

the water without fear, even if it stretched to the north, in order, as

he said, to get home round the North Pole.

26. On the 27th we had reached 78° 48′ N. L., but a wind from the

south-west set in, and after two days of constant toil, alternately

launching and drawing up the boats, we found, on the 29th, that we had

been driven back to 78° 50′ N. L. But in many cases the movement of ice

is unaccountable, and on the 30th this was verified; for, notwithstanding

the prevalence of the south-west wind, we had drifted to 78° 32′ N. L.,

61° 3′ E. L. The weather at this time was thicker and duller than usual,

and the horizon from our boats extended but a few hundred paces, so that

we had considerable difficulty in choosing the most navigable “leads.”

The view did not extend above two miles, even when we climbed to the top

of one of the hummocks, and mists generally lay on its outskirts. In

clear weather we had always steered in the direction of a water-sky which

promised open sea, even though we had to make _détours_ to the south-west

or south-east. But now such a foggy obscurity lay over every “ice-hole,”

however small, that the outline of its edges was hardly discernible at

a few paces off, and, under these circumstances, we could only pull the

boats round, till we came to the first opening in the enclosing ice.

27. Winds from the south continued during the following week, and heavy

rains again fell, and we had much laborious dragging through the fog

on the 31st of July and the 1st of August. Our stock of bread, which

had been reduced to powder by the constant lading and unlading, was

meanwhile so thoroughly soaked that on the 2nd of August we stopped for

half a day on a floe (78° 28′ N. L., 61° 49′ E. L.) to dry it in the

sun, which, after a long absence, gladdened us by showing himself. We

took the opportunity also to dry our clothes and our stockings. On such

a day as this the scene around us entirely lost its gloomy sepulchral

character; the heavens were brilliantly blue, the ice lay around us in

dazzling light, and the deep ultramarine of the sea-water peeped forth

from the “leads.” Henceforward we had less occasion to cross large floes.

Our route gradually changed its character; “leads” and “ice-holes”

occurred far more frequently, and the channels between them, winding

through drifting islands of ice, were sometimes three or four miles in

extent. Along these we glided under sail and oars, and when we came

to a temporary halt, Weyprecht, with his compass, mounted one of the

ice-hummocks to examine the water-ways and determine which we should

follow. Our rate of progress was much increased, an acceleration due to

the change in the ice, effected slowly but surely by sunshine and rain.

The enormous masses of snow were wasting away; the thaw-water, gathering

in countless streams, spread as lakes on the hollows of the floes, and

oozed through fissures in the ice into the sea. The edges of the floes,

undermined by the action of the waves, fell in, or were worn away by the

pressure, and a single warm day or shower of rain sufficed to dissolve

what remained of them. Hence, if the difficulty of drawing boats on to

the ice was lessened, the danger of breaking through it in the process

was greater, and we ran the risk of seeing all the cases containing our

provisions sink in the sea before our eyes. As the ice-fields diminished

in size and thickness, the number and breadth of the “leads” increased.

The alternation of heavy south-east winds and calms helped on the

destruction of the ice, and our progress was great in proportion. From

the 3rd to the 7th of August each day we accomplished greater distances.

The ice gradually changed from pack-ice to drift-ice, impenetrable only

where it lay in thicker masses. When fogs came on, we generally decided,

after wandering about for a little, to wait on or near a floe for finer

weather. We no longer restricted our labours to certain times of the day.

In the highest spirits, we toiled incessantly at rowing or dragging the

boats, or shoving the floes asunder with our long poles.

28. On the 7th our progress might be estimated at twelve miles. It was

the first day we had got on without dragging the sledges and crossing

floes, and when we halted at noon amid some loose ice, we saw, to the

south, a fluctuation in the sea level, and the ice alternately rising and

falling. “The swell of the ocean!” exclaimed all with joy: “we are close

to the open sea”—the open sea, being to us at that moment deliverance.

Our amazement at finding it at such a latitude, 78° N. L., was so great

that, notwithstanding that indisputable sign, we could scarcely believe

our eyes, and we were filled with indescribable excitement. For a moment

only that excitement was diverted to other and very different objects—two

bears suddenly appeared on the scene, swimming about 100 paces from

us. Two boats were at once manned, and the chase began. But the bears

swam faster than the boats could be pulled by the four men in each boat;

sometimes they raised themselves high out of the water as they turned to

look at their pursuers. Suddenly one of them disappeared, while the other

made for a floe and climbed on to it. As he stood and impudently stared

at us, a shot was fired at him, and he immediately decamped, swimming

with great rapidity to another distant floe. But as no trace of blood

was to be seen on the ice, and our companions drinking their mid-day tea

were scarcely to be distinguished, we considered it unsafe to pursue him

further. In the evening we stopped again before a dense group of small

floes, which like the rest of the ice had become rotten; the one whereon

we were preparing to encamp for the night broke into several pieces just

as we were raising our boat on to it. We were, however, fortunate enough

to save our provisions.

[Illustration: BEARS IN THE WATER.]

29. Though we had been accustomed so long to oscillate between extremes,

we now felt that the hour had come, when we might count with certainty

on being liberated from the fetters of the ice, and all our hopes gained

new life. Yet once more they seemed doomed to be disappointed. On the

7th, before we turned into sleep, the prevailing north wind had gathered

so much ice around us that we were fairly shut in. Next day (August 8),

after the efforts of many hours to force through the multitude of small

floes by which we were jammed in, we discovered that we should be unable

to move, unless the wind changed to the south-west. Our exertions on the

9th were equally unsuccessful. It was not dense masses of ice, under

whose walls we had so often felt ourselves imprisoned, that now held

us captive, but miserable flat floes. Their diameter was from fifty to

sixty paces, and though they hardly appeared above water, they were not

the less impenetrable hindrances. The movement in the sea, that had so

elevated us, was scarcely perceptible, and our faith in the nearness of

the ocean was consequently much shaken.

30. Again rain fell in abundance, and we remained in the boats waiting

for the breaking-up of the ice. It was scarcely possible to go any

distance from them, for the ice of the surrounding floes was so thin,

that we could not venture to walk on them lest we should break through.

Fissures abounded, but no seals were to be seen in them. This forced

abode in our boats was almost unendurable. We could not always sleep, and

only a frugal few had any tobacco left to smoke. Some of our party had

for a long time smoked dry tea-leaves in the form of cigarettes, or had

filled their pipes with match paper. All the tinder had been long used

up in this way, and a dreadful trial it had been to the olfactory nerves

of those who would not so indulge. Haller went further still, and smoked

paper in the close covered boat! besides many leaves of his note-books,

he still had a quantity of packing-paper, but, in the interest of the

community, I was compelled to interfere against its use in this fashion.

He found some compensation in another occupation, which had the merit at

least of being inoffensive to others—mixing together his rations of tea,

salt, and bread-dust, he converted the mixture into a soup. These days

seemed as though they would never end; there was a continual taking off

and pulling on of boots; some sat in the boats gaping about vacantly in

all directions; some standing on the ice gaped as vacantly; all mental

activity was concentrated in two wishes, that the ice would break up, and

that the time for the next meal would come round. No one had any private

reserve of provision. The days were gone when a stocking filled with

bread might be seen hanging from the belt of one, or the ribs of a bear

in the hand of another. And yet amidst all the hunger, which we felt the

more acutely from our abundant leisure, some among us had actually become

as plump as quails, and if we had been found dead on the floes, it would

have been thought, that we had died in consequence of over-eating, so

stout had most of us become. But dreadful was the solemn lapse of time.

August was well advanced; the knowledge that we had provisions for only

one month more, and the shortness of the season for action that still

remained, failed not to impress upon us all that the crisis of our fate

was at hand. For three weeks past the formation of young ice had begun,

both on the ice and on the sweet-water lakes on the floes. Even during

these summer months, the temperature in the night had frequently fallen

two or three degrees below freezing-point, and the cold now began to join

the fragments of old floes into formidable obstacles. The caprice of a

wind might again carry us off towards the north, as it had done two years

ago, but carry us too, to certain inevitable destruction. On the 9th of

August we found our latitude 78° 9′—a higher degree than we had expected.

But what would a lower degree have availed us, had not the open sea been

near us—the open sea, on which hung all our hopes, ever since the word

had been uttered? The joy of that day’s discovery was fed and sustained

by the low murmur of a distant surf, which either imagination or our

senses, rendered acute by the presence of danger, continued to hear in

the south.

31. Thus passed the days from the 10th to the 13th of August, the calking

of our boats forming our only distraction. Eagerly and earnestly we gazed

on the water-sky in the south and on every change in the ice.[56] On the

10th our latitude was 78° 6′ and our longitude 60° 45′, E.; on the 13th

our latitude was 77° 58′, and our longitude 61° 10′ E. On the 12th the

ice had become somewhat looser. We advanced a mile to the south, but

were then again beset. It rained during the whole day, and in the night,

the temperature fell several degrees below freezing-point. Ice an inch

thick was formed on the 13th over the surface of the fresh-water lakes,

and when we went, either to drink from them or to perform our toilet, we

had to break through a coating of ice. All these were so many signs that

Summer had bid us adieu and that the short Autumn of the north had begun.

This day, too, we had the first impression of the returning cold.

[Illustration: CALKING THE BOATS.]

32. At last during the night of the 14th, the ice somewhat opened and

we could go on our way. Just before we started, in the early morning,

a seal was shot which the dogs had discovered and attacked: it was the

eighteenth and last we shot since we abandoned the ship. With much labour

in shoving we forced a passage through a long succession of “leads” and

halted for a short rest at midnight in front of a larger “ice-hole,” to

refresh our strength with some pieces of blubber, seasoned with alcohol

and thaw-water. Drift ice lay all round us, and we had the presentiment,

that the hour at last had come which was to set us free from the ice. All

things rise in our estimation, when we are about to bid them farewell,

and it was with some pain that we felt all at once, that in a few minutes

we should bid adieu to the realm of ice, which lay behind us in all its

magical grandeur. We now moved on under sail: the “ice-holes” increased

in size, the ice diminished, and the swell of the ocean was perceptibly

greater. Our latitude at noon next day was 77° 49′. A large “ice-hole”

opened before us, and with a sea running high, the boats, making a good

deal of water, we sailed into it—it was the last ice-hole. The last line

of ice lay ahead of us, and beyond it the boundless open sea!

[Illustration: FAREWELL TO THE FROZEN OCEAN.]

33. About six o’clock in the evening we had reached the extreme edge of

the ice-barrier, and once more, but for the last time, drew our boats on

a floe. Again our ears heard the noise of the waves—the voice of life

to us. Again we saw the white foam of the surge, and felt, as if we had

awoke from a death-like slumber of years to a new existence. But if our

joy at deliverance was great, not less great was our astonishment to have

reached the ice-barrier in the high latitude of 77° 40′, and with it the

hope of final escape. We went to rest for some hours, but were roused by

the watch about two o’clock in the morning. The east wind had gathered

some heavy masses of ice around us, which rose and fell with the swell

of the ocean, and we were already several hundred yards from the water’s

edge. Any delay in escaping as quickly as possible would require the

labours of many days to set us free again. After much shoving with the

poles, and lading and unlading, we again got beyond the line of ice. The

frozen ocean lay behind us, and on our last floe we made preparations for

our voyage on the open sea.

CHAPTER III.

ON THE OPEN SEA.

1. There lay the open Ocean before us; never were its sparkling waves

beheld with more sincere joy, than by the small band of men, who,

escaping from the prison house of the ice after fearful struggles, now

raised their arms on high to greet its glad waters. The 15th of August

was the day of our liberation—the festival of the Assumption of the

Virgin—and our boats were dressed with flags in its commemoration. But

it was no time for the rest and recreation of a Holy Day: graver duties

pressed upon us. The boats had to be ballasted, and were with difficulty

made to take on board the baggage, the water-casks, and the crews. Our

four sledges, to which we owed so much of our success so far, were of

course left behind. The dogs too were put on board, not, however, without

much hesitation, when the contingencies of the voyage were considered.

2. With three hurrahs, we pushed off from the ice, and our voyage

commenced. Its happy issue depended on the weather and on incessant

rowing. If a storm should arise, the boats, laden as they were, must

sink. We were soon convinced that the dogs, which suffered greatly from

sea-sickness, would dangerously incommode us in the boats by destroying

their trim. There was, in fact, no room for them in our over-crowded

boats, nor water, nor provisions. We could not bring ourselves to abandon

them, and our only form of gratitude for their services was, alas! the

painful one of putting them to death. A floe, by which we passed, became

the grave of these our true friends, our companions in all situations,

and our helpers in all dangers! It was indeed a painful moment, when

Jubinal was taken out of the boat to meet his death. It was the loss of a

true comrade, who had never departed from my side, and who had patiently

borne all the labours and toils imposed on him. Poor Torossy too, born in

the Arctic regions, amid the ice-pressures, was not a little lamented.

3. With boundless satisfaction, we saw the white edge of the ice

gradually become a line, and at last disappear. Every one felt, that

finding the ice-barrier in so high a latitude, was the crowning blessing

to which we must ascribe our liberation. At the distance of a mile from

the edge of the ice, the temperature of the water had risen to 30° F.,

and that of the air to 39° F. The sunbeams were reflected with such

intensity from the smooth surface of the sea, that we felt the long

unknown sensation of heat, and were obliged to cast off some of our

garments.

4. We shaped our course south-by-west, towards the Barentz Islands,

intending to take in supplies of provisions from the depôt formed by

Count Wilczek, and then to coast along Novaya Zemlya in search of a ship

engaged in the fisheries, which we hoped to find either at Admiralty

Peninsula, or Matoschkin Straits, or in Dunen Bay. Norwegian vessels,

engaged in the capture of the walrus, might be looked for as far south

as Matoschkin Straits, and the Russian salmon-fishers still further to

the south. The nearest land was fifty miles off, and everything depended

on our reaching its friendly shores before the weather changed for the

worse. In the event of stormy weather there would be no other alternative

than to throw our provisions overboard in order to lighten the boats.

5. Putting forth all our strength, we rowed steadily for some days.

Weyprecht took the lead in his boat, and the others followed him as

quickly as possible. The crew of each boat was divided into two watches,

who were relieved every four hours. It frequently happened that one boat

fell behind the others, and was lost sight of in a fog or mist. Trumpets

and horns were then sounded, till the laggard boat, by renewed efforts

of her crew, came up with the others. On the 16th, a breeze from the

north sprang up, and we used our sails with good effect for some hours.

At last Novaya Zemlya was sighted—some silvery points above the level of

the sea, which our people took at first for the reappearance of the ice

in the south; they proved to be the snowy summits near Cape Nassau. At

this headland the mountains running along the coast suddenly cease, and

the land trending to the north-east, assumes the monotonous character of

glaciation almost without mountains, as far as the lonely shores where

three centuries ago Barentz slept his last sleep.

6. Our progress had no longer the paralysing insignificance of former

days. This day at noon our latitude was 76° 46′, and on the 17th, the

picturesque range of mountains south of Cape Nassau, rose through the

morning mists close before us steeped in violet and crimson hues. A fog

arising, we rowed along by compass in the midst of it, the boats seemed

to float in the air amid the fog. During its continuance a current caused

us to deviate so much to the south-west, that when at noon the land was

again visible, we discovered that we had gone beyond the place where the

depôt had been formed, and found by the chart, that we were in 75° 40′

lat. and 58° long. But as the loss of time, in going back a distance of a

hundred miles, was out of all proportion to the amount of provisions we

could have taken in our overladen boats, we determined at all risks to

hold on our course.

7. Before us, in the far distance, now rose above the horizon the higher

parts of Admiralty Peninsula; to these we now steered. As we passed along

we made a vain attempt to land on the north of Gwosdarew Bay. We found

the shores full of cliffs, between which a heavy surf was breaking, and

could thus form some notion of the perils we should have encountered, had

we attempted to land on the Barentz Islands. Two years ago the edge of

this coast had been covered with firm ice, and the depôt had been formed

by the aid of sledges. But now not a fragment of ice was to be seen

on the west coast of Novaya Zemlya, and the rocky shore could only be

approached by boats.

8. The differences between the climate in the years 1872 and 1874, were

also in other respects very remarkable. In 1872 the mountains of the

country were mostly covered with snow, but in 1874, it lay only on the

higher parts of its glaciers, and in latitude 76° N., where we had found

thick ice, the temperature of the sea was 39° F., and of the air 43°

F. The phenomena of the climate of 1871, as we observed them in the

voyage of the _Isbjörn_, were similar to those of 1874; and this peculiar

mildness was experienced on the eastern coasts of Novaya Zemlya by

Captain Wiggins, who when navigating the sea of Cara as far as the mouth

of the Ob, was shut in there by the ice for a few weeks only.

[Illustration: LANDING ON THE COAST OF NOVAYA ZEMLYA.]

9. The inaccessibility of most of the places on the coast had hitherto

obliged us to continue our course without going on shore to rest,

although our arms were stiff and swollen with our exertions in rowing.

No vessels as yet had been seen, and what we thought to be a ship turned

out, when we rowed closer to it, to be only a small iceberg. There

was therefore no other alternative than to coast along in a southerly

direction, cutting across the bays, and keeping as near the shore as

possible. On the night of the 17th we pulled over the broad Gwosdarew

Bay, which was filled with countless fragments of glaciers. Some of

the smallest of these we took on board our boats to replenish our fast

decreasing supplies of water. Ever since our coming under the coast of

Novaya Zemlya, we had entered a region where auks abounded which whizzed

over our heads with small crayfish in their bills in their flight to the

land, or sat so indolently on the water, that they seemed determined

not to get out of the way of the boats. Many were bagged, but we made no

halt to shoot them. Twice only in the day we rested for about ten minutes

to take our food. Onwards we pressed, each boat striving to get before

the others. On August 17 the sun set for the first time about midnight,

and in the afternoon of the 18th we landed at a spot to the south of

black Cape, remarkable for the luxuriance of its vegetation. To our eyes,

accustomed to the monotonous white of snow and ice, it appeared like a

garden. There was nothing to remind us of a polar region either in the

land, or in the temperature, or in the weather. Its broad bay, if it had

been without its circle of glaciers, would have appeared like an Italian

gulf. It was now ebb-tide, and wading in the water we shoved our boats,

using the oars as rollers, over the muddy shore. It was the birthday of

our gracious monarch, which we celebrated in the best manner we could—we

dressed the boats with flags, washed ourselves in a little fresh-water

lake, and flavoured our weak tea with a small quantity of alcohol.

10. This was the first land on which we had set foot for months.

Completely exhausted we lay down on its damp turf and listened to the

pleasant sound of the surf. Flames soon rose from the pile of drift

wood we collected, while some of us ascended the neighbouring ravines,

and even gathered flowers.[57] There were quantities of forget-me-nots,

and of coltsfoot (_Tusselago farfara_), which was dried and smoked, and

pronounced to be excellent tobacco. But our paradisiacal happiness could

not be of long duration. The necessity of finding a ship as quickly as

possible was urgent, and soon roused us from our deep sleep, while the

thunders of the glaciers of Novaya Zemlya proclaimed to us that bad

weather was not far off.

11. On the 19th, we coasted along Admiralty Peninsula; the thermometer

giving 50° F. in the air, and 43° F. in the sea. Its shores rising in

a succession of terraces were indisputable evidence of its gradual

elevation above the sea-level,[58] and the flatness of the shores and

the shallowness of the sea, interspersed with rocks, easily explain why

they have so often been dangerous to ships approaching them in a fog.

As we came further south the charts proved more trustworthy. At noon of

the 20th at Cape Tischernitzky we reached latitude 74° 21′. We passed a

number of picturesque bights on the coast, with mountains, whose tops

were covered with clouds, and whose green banks extended along the

shores. These are the favourite wintering spots of Russian expeditions,

and in some places we saw ruined huts. On the 21st a fresh wind sprung

up from the east. The sea rose, and as we sailed fast before the wind

the boats took in a good deal of water, and we were thoroughly wet; the

boats too got separated. We accordingly ran into the bay under “Suchoi

Nos” (73° 47′ L.) to wait till the wind fell and the other boats should

join us. The boat commanded by Lieutenant Brosch, was exposed to much

danger from the lowness of its gunwale, when the sea was at all high; an

addition made to it by a strip of canvas stretched round the boat proved

ineffectual. We quickly dried our clothes at a fire made of drift-wood

and erratics of brown coal which we found, but were much disappointed

that no reindeer were to be seen, though we were surrounded by excellent

feeding-grounds for these animals. The stew, which we made from the

spoonwort we gathered, and some pemmican, was but a poor substitute for

the venison we had hoped to enjoy. Neither were there any auks to be

seen, and the divers shot under the water like stones whenever we came

within distance. The other boats having joined us we again put to sea,

though the weather was threatening and a high sea running. In latitude

73° 20′ we ran into Matoschkin Bay, hoping and expecting to find a vessel

engaged in the fisheries. But no vessel was to be seen, nothing but the

outlines of an Arctic mountain-land. Carlsen also, whom Weyprecht had

despatched to explore the straits so full of turnings and windings,

returned without the intelligence we hoped for. Before Carlsen rejoined

us we ran into a cove—Altgläubigen Bucht—and erected, on a conspicuous

headland, a cairn, on which we placed a signal post made of drift-wood.

In this cairn we deposited a document, briefly describing the course

of our expedition up to that date, in order to leave some trace of it

in a region which is visited annually by ships. The discovery of this

statement in the course of the next summer would prevent our countrymen

at home from sending out vessels to rescue us in higher latitudes, if we

meanwhile should perish.

12. The prospects of our being saved had, in fact, considerably

diminished, for all our hopes had been centred in finding a vessel in

Matoschkin Straits, and these, as I have just said, were doomed to be

disappointed. Carlsen now returned with the information, that, in the

narrow seas he had visited, he had met with nothing but a whale-boat,

lying keel upwards, round which were footmarks of not very recent date.

There was no doubt, therefore, that the fishing vessels had withdrawn

from our high latitudes. At night a storm from the north-east roared

over the cliffs surrounding the cove, and the surf breaking on the rocks

reached our boats.

13. It was noon on the 23rd before we could continue our voyage. Our

provisions would last for only ten days more, so that our fate must

shortly be decided. Further delay was out of the question; there was but

one hope for us—to press on and find a ship in Dunen-Bai (the Bay of

Dunes). Should this too prove deceptive, we must then make the desperate

venture of crossing the White Sea, direct to Lapland—a distance of 520

miles. To follow the vast circuit of the coast-line would have been

impossible to us with our stock of provisions, and at that season of the

year. The next days too plainly taught us what would have become of our

small boats had we been forced to attempt that passage.

14. We now rowed and sailed alternately down the flat coasts towards

“Gänseland,” amid stormy weather, during which the boats were often

separated, and we almost exhausted our strength in baling out the water.

We lost sight completely of Weyprecht’s boat on the open sea, and of the

others under the coast. That in which Orel and I were, appeared to have

out-sailed them, and we, therefore, on the morning of the 24th drew to

shore in a dark rocky cove to await the approach of our missing friends.

Wet through and through we sprang into the shallow water, and by a great

effort drew the boat to land. We then kindled a fire with the drift-wood

we gathered, and after making and eating a kind of dumpling we sank down

to sleep on the wet stones, amid the smoke from our fire, thoroughly

exhausted. So passed away four hours. When we awoke we ascended a height,

and as there was not a single vestige of a boat to be seen, we determined

to put to sea again. Near Cape Britwin (Lat. 72° 40′), the wind and sea

fell, and the boats again joined company. It was now deemed necessary

to make an equitable division among the crews of the provisions that

remained, and this being done, we took to our oars once more, and pulled

into the boundless waste of waters—into the mystery that hung over our

destiny.

15. But the hour of our deliverance was nearer than we thought. It was

evening as we glided past the black weather-worn rocks of Cape Britwin,

the ledges of which were covered with flocks of birds, revelling in the

spray of the surf. Then about seven o’clock a cry of joy as from one

voice arose from the boats. A fifth small boat with two men in it lay

before us, apparently engaged in bird catching. They pulled towards us,

not less amazed than we ourselves were, and before either party could

explain itself, we turned a corner of the rock—there lay two ships.

16. It is with a certain kind of awe and reverence that a shipwrecked

man approaches a ship, whose slender build is to deliver him from the

capricious power of the elements. To him it is no lifeless machine, but

a friend in need, yea, a higher creation than himself. Such were our

feelings as we neared the two schooners which lay a few hundred yards off

in a rock-encircled bay. To us at that moment these vessels were the sum

total of the whole world! Dressing our boats with flags, we followed the

strangers in their boat, and made fast to the schooner _Nikolai_, whose

deck was in a moment crowded with bearded Russians, who stared at us

with mingled feelings of wonder and sympathy, and whose captain, Feodor

Voronin, stood like a patriarch among them to welcome us. Ten days sooner

and our poor dogs might have gambolled on the deck with us!

[Illustration: THE BAY OF DUNES. THE RUSSIAN SCHOONERS.]

17. No grandees could have been received with more dignity than we

were. At the sight of the two Ukases, which we had received from St.

Petersburg, and which required all inhabitants of the Russian Empire to

furnish us with all the help we needed, these humble seamen bared their

heads and bowed themselves to the earth. We had an example before us to

show how orders are obeyed by the subjects of that Empire a thousand

miles from the place where they were issued. But we were received not

only in this reverential manner, but were welcomed with the greatest

heartiness, and the best of everything on board was spread before

us—salmon, reindeer flesh, Eider-geese eggs, tea, bread, butter, brandy.

The second skipper then came on board, and invited us to visit him: the

first of a series of invitations. Dr. Kepes was very pressingly invited,

for he had a sick man on board his vessel, and our doctor returned with

an _honorarium_ of tobacco in his hand. These simple Russian seamen of

the Arctic seas freely produced their little stock of good things to give

us pleasure, and one of them after observing me for a long time, and

thinking that I did not express myself sufficiently strongly for a happy

man, persuaded himself that something was the matter with me, and that I

wanted something. Forthwith he went to his chest, and brought me all the

white bread he had and the whole remaining stock of his tobacco. Though I

did not understand a word he said, his address was full of unmistakable

heartiness, and so far needed no interpreter.

18. Since we abandoned the _Tegetthoff_ we had passed ninety-six days

in the open air, and, including the sledge journeys which preceded the

abandonment of the ship, about five months. The impressions of a return

to life were felt by us with silent yet deep thankfulness of heart, for

as the poet says:—

“Das Schweigen ist ihr bester Herold.”