"With the beginning of November, the cold became so intense, that we
could venture out into the air for a very short time only, long enough
merely to collect what fuel we needed, and to set the traps which we
had placed round the hut to catch foxes, which I assure you were
considered quite a dainty by us poor wretches, greedy as we were after
fresh meat. On the 4th of November, the sun was no longer visible,
and a long and dreary night set in. All the light we had came from the
moon, aurora borealis, and the lamps which we hung around our hut, and
fed with bear's fat. The only consolation left us was that with the
sun the bears had left us, and we could now leave the hut without
danger of being devoured. The cold still continued to increase hourly,
and we were obliged to distribute our stock of clothing among the men,
in order to protect them better against the frost, yet in spite of
every precaution, hands and feet which were wrapped up in thick furs
and cloths, became stiff and numb, when only a few paces from the
fire. The best protection against the cold, we found to be heated
stones. We felt the want of spirituous liquors sadly; those we had,
froze, and when thawed lost both strength and flavour. Our health,
however, was much better than we had reason to expect, when our mode
of life is taken into consideration; but this, I imagine was owing to
the good advice of the surgeon to bathe daily, which we always did.
One morning, towards the end of November, one of us wishing to leave
the hut, found the door tightly closed by the snow, and was obliged to
dig through it. This work we had to repeat daily, or otherwise we
should have been completely buried. On the 16th of November, we found
that we had used all the fuel that was in the hut, and were therefore,
obliged to dig out of the snow the rest of what we had gathered for
use, and bring it into our dwelling. We worked alternately in couples,
and had to make all the haste we could, for in spite of fox-skins and
extra clothing, we were not able to endure the cold long. Until the
29th of December, we experienced dreadful weather; snow fell in
abundance, and for three days we were unable to leave the hut. On the
evening of the fourth day, it moderated somewhat, and one of the
sailors ventured to make a hole through the wall, near to the door,
and creep through it in order to see how things stood without. He came
back pretty soon and told us that the snow was piled up higher than
the hut, and that it was just as cold as ever; he said that if he had
not returned, his ears would have been frozen. On the 29th of
December, some of the men dug the door free again, and made a kind of
a tunnel through the snow, out of which we emerged as from a cellar.
But all our trouble was in vain, for the next day another fall of snow
blocked up the door, and made us prisoners again. Stormy days were the
more unendurable, as the fire would not burn, but filled the hut with
smoke. At such times we commonly lay in our beds, which like the walls
of the hut, were covered with a thick coating of ice, whenever the
fire did not burn brightly. Whilst in this unpleasant situation, one
of us happened to remember that there was a good store of coals on
board the vessel, and the most hardy of the party immediately made an
attempt to bring them to the hut, and after great exertions, succeeded
in their attempt. We immediately kindled a good fire, and for the
first time an agreeable warmth spread through the room. In order
better to retain it, we stopped up the hole we had made to let the
smoke escape, and merrier than usual, went to bed and began chatting
together; but soon, giddiness and then stupefaction attacked us, and
had not one of the party had the presence of mind to crawl to the
door and open it, we would soon have been suffocated by the poisonous
gas which came from the coal. Thus ended the year 1596. The next year
commenced with the same unpleasant weather, so that we were obliged to
pass New Year's day in the house. We had now used up all our split
wood, and on account of the cold, were unable to go out to procure
more. On the 5th of January, the weather at last moderated, and we got
the door open, cleaned the house out, and split some more wood, as we
were afraid that we should again be buried by the snow. After working
hard all day, we began in the evening to talk about home, and it
occurred to us that our countrymen were at that very moment
celebrating one of their merriest festivals, namely, that of the Three
Kings. We determined, therefore, to forget our sad lot for a while,
and prepare a little feast. Each one of the men put by some of his
biscuit, and the captain gave some wine. We now made a good wine soup,
and prepared also some pancakes, which we made of a couple of pounds
of starch which had been taken on board for the purpose of pasting
cartridges, and some oil; the biscuits we soaked in wine. We now
celebrated the evening in fine style, and for the time, forgot our sad
lot, and imagined ourselves once more surrounded by our friends and
relations. In this way we enjoyed our humble meal as much as if it had
been a sumptuous feast. We got into such a good humor that we chose a
king, as it is customary to do on such occasions, and saluted him by
the title of "Lord of Nova Zembla," a kingdom which though of
considerable size, is not very well provided with either inhabitants
or revenue.
"On leaving the hut next day, we found the air a little less keen, and
felt that since the snow had ceased to fall, the cold had somewhat
abated. We could now hope to see the sun before long, and on the 8th
of January we really perceived a faint glimmering in the sky, at which
we rejoiced not a little. Eight days later we perceived a reddish
tinge, which we hailed as the harbinger of the near approach of the
sun. We perceived, also, a slight warmth in the wind, which, joined to
the heat of our fire, partially melted the ice on the walls of the
hut, which, until now, had remained perfectly solid. As the glimmering
light grew stronger every day, we at length ventured, well-armed, to
the ship, which still remained in the same position as formerly, but
had been frequently visited by bears, as their footsteps in the snow
plainly showed. We took a light, and descended into the hold, where we
found the water a foot in depth, and frozen perfectly tight.
"As the weather remained fair, we went out into the open air daily.
Our usual resort was a hill about a half mile distant, from which we
brought stones to our hut, and heated them, in order to warm our beds.
It now grew brighter every day, and we were soon able to amuse
ourselves by shooting with a cross-bow, using for a mark the top of
our snowy flag-staff, which, until now, we had been unable to see.
Indeed, we took exercise in any way possible, and endeavored by
throwing, running, and other gymnastic sports, to restore strength and
suppleness to our half frozen limbs. The foxes, in capturing whom we
had formerly been so busily engaged, now suddenly vanished, a sure
sign of the re-appearance of the bears. These dangerous beasts soon
visited us again, and the war against them was renewed; they evidently
came from some more southerly climate, where they had been passing the
long winter, as they were very fat. They often endeavored to break
open the door of the hut, and one of them even clambered upon the
roof, and endeavored to get inside through the hole we had made to
allow the smoke to escape; it required the united energies of all of
us to defeat his intentions.
"The 27th of January was a sad day for us, for on it one of our party
died. He had been sick at the building of the hut, and we had been
obliged to convey him to it on a sled. We buried him in the snow, with
a prayer, and held a funeral feast to his honor; but we soon recovered
our wonted flow of spirits, as we were now confidently expecting a
speedy release from the wretched situation in which we had been
placed.
"The cold continued unbroken for three months longer, although it was
not so severe as formerly. Our provisions now gave out, and on the 3rd
of May we cooked our last piece of pork. During the latter part of May
we began to make preparations for our journey, and as we found our
ship was no longer sea-worthy, we dug out the shallop and boat, which
had been protected by the deep snow. We spent all the month of May in
mending and fitting out these two vessels. Whilst we were prosecuting
this work, we were more than once in great danger of being torn to
pieces by the bears. We shot a great many of them, but it happened we
found them more dangerous when dead than when alive. Being greatly in
want of food we cooked a liver of one of them, and found it very
palatable, but all of us fell sick in consequence, and some were so
very ill that their lives were despaired of; they were covered from
head to foot with a loathsome eruption. However, they at last
recovered, for which we thanked God most sincerely, for had we lost
them, the rest of us would not have had sufficient strength to launch
the boats. In spite of this warning one of the men was imprudent
enough, one day, to bring a pot of bear's liver to the fire, as he was
hungry; but Heemskerk, who was standing by, threw it out of the
window.
"The weather often grew milder, and the sea began to be free from ice,
but a single north wind brought back the most intense cold, and the
sea was again covered with ice. In the meanwhile we worked hard to get
out of our leaky vessel all that was necessary for our dangerous
voyage, but suddenly we experienced a more dreadful storm of snow,
hail, and rain, than had yet overtaken us, and which we did not expect
at this time of the year. The weather was so bad that we were obliged
to leave every thing and retreat to the hut. But we found this in a
miserable condition, for we had used the boards, of which the roof was
composed, to mend our vessels, and a piece of sail, which had taken
their place, answered its purpose so badly that the hut was full of
water. Often and often did our courage sink, and we give up in
despair, but Heemskerk always cried, 'If you do not wish to remain in
Nova Zembla, and dig your graves in the snow, you must exert all your
remaining strength to equip the boats, on which depend all our hopes
of safety.' These words acted like an electrical shock on us, and
spurred us on to do what seemed almost impossible.
"In the beginning of June, we dragged the two boats to the vessel, in
order, when all was ready, to take them from there to the edge of the
ice and launch them into the sea. Suddenly another storm arose
unexpectedly, and we were in constant dread lest the ice should break
up, and all our property be lost. In that case there would be no hope
for us; but Providence watched over us, and the storm passed by, and
did us not the slightest harm. We had now to perform our last but most
difficult task, viz: to open a passage through the ice from the ship
to the open sea, through which we might take the shallop. This, after
incredible toil, we accomplished, and loaded our two boats with the
tools and provisions we had just taken from the wreck, which consisted
of thirteen casks of biscuits, and several more of bacon, oil, and
wine. Then being all ready, we started on our voyage on the morning of
the 14th of June, 1597.