A STRANGE DREAM AND ITS FULFILLMENT.
THE winter was fully settled down upon Port Foulke, but the dwellers in
the schooner "United States" knew nothing of the anxieties and suffering
from cold and hunger which most of the arctic voyagers have known. There
was one foe, however, which they, in common with all who had gone before
them, had to fight; namely, depression of mind produced by the weeks of
inactivity and darkness. We have seen how many means were used by
earlier as well as later explorers to meet and vanquish this foe. Dr.
Hayes availed himself of the hints given by his predecessors, and had
some devices peculiarly his own. To the "school of navigation," dramatic
performances, and the publishing of a weekly "newspaper," was added the
pleasant stimulus of a celebration of the birthday of every man on
board. Such occasions were attended by special dinners, the passing of
complimentary notes of invitations to the intended guests, which
included all, and by fun-making, at which all laughed as a matter of
course.
On Sunday all assembled in their clean and best suits. Brief religious
service was performed in the presence of all, and the day was spent in
reading or conversation, save the performance of the necessary routine
work.
During the favoring light of the moon some excursions were attempted.
One was made by Professor Sontag, accompanied by Hans and Jensen with
two dog sledges. The object was to reach the harbor where Dr. Kane's
"Advance" had been left, and ascertain if possible her fate. He started
early in November, but returned in a few days, baffled by the hummocks
and wide intervening, treacherous ice-cracks. The party had an encounter
with and captured a bear and her cub. The mother fought with maternal
fury for her child, tossed the dogs one after another until some of the
stoutest and bravest retired bleeding and yelping from the field, and at
times charged upon and scattered the whole pack, while the cub itself
behaved bravely in its own defense. When the men came up they threw in,
of course, the fatal odds of rifle balls. Once Hans, his gun having
failed to go off, seized an Esquimo lance and ran at the beast.
Accepting the challenge of a hand-to-hand fight, she made at him with
such spirit that he dropped the lance and ran, and nothing saved the cub
from supping on Esquimo meat but two well-directed balls, which whizzed
at the right moment from the guns of Sontag and Jensen. The bears made a
splendid resistance to the unprovoked attack upon them in the peaceable
pursuit of an honest calling, that of getting a living, but were
conquered and eaten.
Among the sad events of the winter was a fatal disease among the dogs.
They all died but nine by the middle of December. This was alarming, for
upon them depended mainly the spring excursions North Poleward. Such
being the situation, Sontag took at this time the surviving dogs, and,
on a sledge with Hans as a driver, started south in pursuit of Esquimo.
If they could be brought with their dogs into the vicinity of the ship
and fed, there would be a fair chance of having dog-sledges when they
were wanted. The nearest known Esquimo family was at Northumberland
Island, a hundred miles off, and others were at the south side of Whale
Sound, fifty miles farther--perhaps all had gone to the most distant
point. They departed in fine spirits, and well equipped. Hans cracked
his whip, and the dogs, well fed and eager for a run, caused the sledge
to glide over the ice with the velocity of a locomotive. Their
companions sent after them a "hip! hip, hurrah!" and a "tiger." The moon
shed her serene light on their path, and all seemed to promise a speedy
and successful return.
The second night after their departure the solicitous commander had a
strange, disquieting dream. He says in the journal of the following
morning: "I stood with Sontag far out upon the frozen sea, when suddenly
a crash was heard through the darkness, and in an instant a crack opened
in the ice between us. It came so suddenly and widened so rapidly that
he could not spring over it to where I stood, and he sailed away on the
dark waters of a troubled sea. I last saw him standing firmly upon the
crystal raft, his erect form cutting sharply against a streak of light
which lay upon the distant horizon."
Christmas came and was duly regarded. Stores of nice things, the gifts
of friends far away, were brought out from secret corners where they had
been hid. The tables were loaded with that which satisfied the appetite
and gratified the eye, while the rooms of officers and men blazed with
cheerful lights. Outside a feeble aurora seemed to be trying to exhibit
an inspiring illumination, which contrasted strongly with its cloudy
background.
January, 1861, came, and half its days passed, yet no tidings came from
Sontag. The twilight had returned, and already the coming sun was
heralded along the golden horizon. The commander was becoming uneasy
concerning the missing ones, and began to devise ways of knowing what
had become of them. Mr. Dodge was sent to follow their tracks, which he
did as far as Cape Alexander, where he lost them and returned. A party
was instantly put in readiness for farther search, and was about to
start on the morning of January twenty-seventh, when a violent storm
arose, detaining it two days. As it was on the instant of starting
again, two Esquimo suddenly appeared at the vessel's side. One of them
was Ootiniah, who appears so creditably in the narrative of Dr. Hayes's
boat voyage. They were bearers of sad news. Professor Sontag was dead.
Hans was on his way to the vessel with his wife, father and mother, and
their son, a lad who was left behind with mother when Hans was first
taken on board of the schooner. Some of the dogs had died, and the
family were necessarily moving slowly.
Two days later Hans came in with the boy only, having left the dogs and
the old people near Cape Alexander and come on for help. He was very
cold and much exhausted, and both were sent below for food, warmth, and
rest, before being questioned concerning the disastrous journey. The
large sledge, drawn by fresh men, was sent for those left behind. The
old people were found coiled up in an excavation made in a snow bank,
and the dogs huddled together near them, neither dogs nor Esquimo being
able to stir, and so all were bundled in a heap on the sledge and drawn
to the schooner. The hardy savages soon revived under the influence of
good quarters and good eating, but the dogs, five in number, the remnant
of the strong force of thirty-six, lay on the deck unable to stir, and
not disposed to eat.
Hans's story was this:--
They made a good run the first day, passing Cape Alexander, and camped
in a snow hut on Sunderland Island. The next day they reached an Esquimo
settlement, but found its huts forsaken. Resting and eating here, they
started for Northumberland Island, and having traveled about five miles,
Sontag, becoming chilled, sprang from the sledge and ran ahead of the
dogs for warmth by exercise. Hans having occasion to halt the team to
disentangle a trace fell some distance behind. He was urging forward his
team to overtake his master when he saw him sinking. He had come upon
thin ice covering a recently open crack, and had broken through. Hans
hastened up and helped him from the water. A light wind was blowing,
which disposed Sontag not to attempt to change his wet clothes--the
fatal error. They hastened back to the hut in which they had spent the
night. At first the professor ran, but after a while jumped on the
sledge, and when he reached the hut he was stiff and speechless. Hans
lifted him into the hut, drew off his wet clothes, and placed him into
his sleeping bag. Having tightly closed the hut, he set the lamp ablaze,
and administered to him a portion of brandy from a flask found on the
sledge. But the cold had done its fatal work; he remained speechless and
unconscious for nearly twenty-four hours, and died.
Hans closed up the hut to prevent beasts of prey from disturbing the
body, continued south, and on the second night came upon a village where
he was rejoiced to find several native families, who were living in the
midst of abundance. Here Hans rested until two Esquimo boys, whom he
hired with the Sontag presents, could go to Cape York after his wife's
parents and their son. They over-drove or starved four of the dogs,
which were left by the way.
The natives whom he found were ready on the moment of his arrival to
return to the vessel with him, and Ootiniah and his companion were the
first to show their good-will by starting with Hans on his return.
A few weeks later the body of Sontag was brought to the vessel, a neat
coffin was made for it, and the whole ship's company followed it,
mourning, to its last resting-place. The burial service was read, and it
was carefully secured from molestation. At a later period a mound was
raised over it, and a chiseled stone slab, with his name and age, marked
the head.
August Sontag was only twenty-eight years of age when thus suddenly cut
off. His loss to the expedition was very great.
Hans's parents and brother were added to his own family on deck, and
proved to be much more efficient helpers in domestic affairs than Mrs.
Hans. The boy was washed and scrubbed and combed by the sailors, with
whom he became a great favorite, filling much the place on board as a
pet monkey, and proved to be full as annoying to the old cook, who, in
his extreme vexation at his mischievous tricks, threatened to "kill
him--_a le-e-t-le_." The old folks getting tired of the close quarters
on board, built after a while a snow hut on the floe, and set up
housekeeping for themselves.