THE "POLARIS."
WE have seen that Mr. Hall's enthusiasm for arctic research was unabated
when he returned from his first adventure. In 1864 he was off again. He
sailed from New London in the whaler "Monticello," accompanied by his
Esquimo friends, Ebierbing and Tookoolito. The "Monticello" entered
Hudson Bay, landed the daring explorers on its northern shores, and left
them to their fortunes. From thence they made the long, dreary journey
to King William's Land, where the relics of Franklin's party had been
found, some of whom Hall hoped to find alive. For five years he lived an
Esquimo life, experiencing many thrilling adventures, and escaping many
imminent dangers. At one time he saved his own life only by shooting an
assailant who was leading against him a party who had conspired to
murder him. The result of his long sojourn in this region of cold was a
store of knowledge of the Esquimo habits and language, but nothing
important relating to the fate of the Franklin expedition. Many sad
confirmations were indeed found of the fact before generally accepted,
that they had all miserably perished.
On his return, Mr. Hall, nothing daunted by hardships and failures,
commenced writing and lecturing on the theory of an open Polar Sea. As
he had done before, so now he succeeded in impressing not only the
popular mind but scientific men and statesmen with the plausibility of
his theory and the practicability of his plans. Another North Pole
expedition was proposed; Congress appropriated to it fifty thousand
dollars, and Mr. Hall was appointed its commander. A craft of about four
hundred tons, being larger than either of its predecessors on the same
errand, was selected, and named the "Polaris." She was a
screw-propeller, and rigged as a fore-topsail schooner. Her sides were
covered with a six-inch white oak planking, nearly doubling their
strength. Her bows were nearly solid white oak, made sharp, and sheathed
with iron. One of her boilers was fitted for the use of whale or seal
oil, by which steam could be raised if the coal was exhausted. She was
supplied with five extraordinary boats. One of these must have been the
last Yankee invention in the boat line. It is represented as having a
capacity to carry twenty-five men, yet weighing only two hundred and
fifty pounds; when not in use it could be folded up and packed snugly
away. The "Polaris" was, of course, amply equipped and ably manned, and
great and useful results were expected from her. President Grant is said
to have entered with interest into this enterprise of Captain Hall, and
the nation said, "God bless him and his perilous undertaking!" though
many doubted the wisdom of any more Arctic expeditions. A few days
before his departure Mr. Hall received from the hand of his friend,
Henry Grinnell, a flag of historic note. It had fluttered in the wind
near the South Pole with Lieutenant Wilkes, in 1838; had been borne by
De Haven far northward; it had gone beyond De Haven's highest in the
Kane voyage, and was planted still farther North Poleward by Hayes. "I
believe," exclaimed Captain Hall, on receiving it, "that this flag, in
the spring of 1872, will float over a new world, in which the North Pole
star is its crowning jewel."
The "Polaris" left New York June 29, 1871, tarried for a few days at New
London, and was last heard from as she was ready to steam northward, the
last of August, from Tussuissak, the most northern of the Greenland
outposts. At this place Captain Hall met our old acquaintance, Jensen,
of the Hayes expedition. He was flourishing as "governor" of a few
humble huts occupied by a few humbler people, and he put on
consequential airs in the presence of his white brother. He would not be
a dog-driver again to an Arctic exploration--not he! Hall says he had "a
face of brass in charging for his dogs." But the full complement of
sixty was made up here, and his stock of furs was increased.
As our voyagers are now about to enter upon the terribly earnest
conflicts of North Pole explorers, and as their complement of men _and
women_ are complete, we will further introduce them to our readers.
The commander, Hall, they know; he is well-proportioned, muscular, of
medium height, quiet, but completely enthusiastic in his chosen line of
duty, believing thoroughly in himself and his enterprise, yet believing
well too easily of others, especially of the rough men of his command,
some of whom have grown up under the harsh discipline of the whale-ship
or the naval service. The next in command is the sailing-master, Captain
S. O. Buddington of our last narrative. Captain Tyson, commissioned as
assistant navigator to the expedition, has been introduced to the reader
at Frobisher Bay, while in command there of a whale-ship. We shall have
occasion to become very intimate with him. Here is our old acquaintance,
William Morton, whom we knew so favorably by his heroic deeds in the Dr.
Kane expedition; he is second mate now.
Of course, Captain Hall's old friends of his first and second Arctic
experience, Ebierbing and Tookoolito, his wife, are here. They are now
known as Joe and Hannah, and although it does some violence to our taste
to drop their Esquimo names, we will conform to the usage about us, and
know them in this narrative by these English names. They are accompanied
by an adopted daughter from among their people, about ten years old,
whom they call Puney.
[Illustration: Captain Buddington.]
And here, too, is our old friend Hans, taken on board at Upernavik.
Having been with Kane and Hayes, nothing daunted by the perils of their
voyages, he is here to see, if possible, with Hall, the North Pole,
though no doubt thinking much more of his twenty-five dollars a month as
hunter and dog-driver than of the desired discoveries. His wife and
their three children are with him, for, like a good husband and father,
he would not be separated from his family. The children are Augustina, a
girl about thirteen years, heavy built, and most as large as her mother;
Tobias, a boy of perhaps eight, and a little girl, Succi, of four years.
Think of such a group daring the known and unknown perils of Arctic ice
and cold!
With the rest of the ship's company we shall form acquaintance as our
narrative progresses.
On the twenty-fourth of August the "Polaris" left Tussuissak, and fairly
began her Arctic fight in the ice, current, and wind encounters of
Melville Bay. But on she steamed, passing in a few days through the Bay
into the North Water, into Smith Sound, passing Hayes's winter-quarters,
yet steaming on by Dr. Kane's winter-quarters, not even pausing to
salute our old friends Kalutunah and Myouk, sailing up the west side of
Kennedy Channel, the scene of Dr. Hayes's conflicts and heroic
achievements, the "Polaris" finally brings up in the ice barriers of
north latitude 82 deg. 16'. The highest points of previous voyages in this
direction are far south. That new world of which the North Pole star is
"the crowning jewel," is less than six hundred miles farther. If that
open sea located in this latitude by confident explorers was only a
fact, how easily and how soon would the brave "Polaris" be there! But
the ice-floe, strong and defiant, and the southern current, were facts,
and the open sea nowhere visible. The "Polaris" was taken in hand by the
ice and current in the historic, Arctic fashion, and set back about
fifty miles. The Ice King had said, "Thus far and no farther," and
pointed with his frosty fingers southward.
The "Polaris" early in September was glad to steam in under the land,
anchor to an iceberg, and make her winter-quarters. Captain Hall called
the harbor "Thank-God Harbor," and the friendly anchorage "Providence
Berg." He had a right here now, for a little farther north, at a place
he called "Repulse Harbor," he went ashore, threw the stripes and stars
to the breeze, and took possession of the land "in the name of God and
the President of the United States." We shall not expect to hear that a
territorial representative from this land enters the next Congress. If
this part of our national domain has a representative in the life-time
of our distinguished acquaintance, Kalutunah, we nominate him for the
position, as one of the nearest known inhabitants.
Now commenced in earnest preparations for an Arctic winter. We have seen
how this is done, and Hall and some, at least, of his officers knew how
to do it. The hunters were abroad at once, and an early prize was a
musk-ox weighing three hundred pounds. His meat was tender and good,
having no musky odor. This was but the beginning of the good gunning
afforded by this far northern region. Two seals were soon after shot.
The country was found to abound in these, and in geese, ducks, rabbits,
wolves, foxes, partridges, and bears. The scurvy was not likely to
venture near our explorers.
A pleasant incident occurred on shipboard about this time which the
reader will better appreciate as our story progresses. It was September
twenty-fourth. The Sabbath religious service of the preceding day had
been conducted by Chaplain Bryant in his usual happy manner. At its
close Commander Hall made some kind, earnest remarks to the men by which
their rough natures were made tender, and they sent a letter from the
forecastle to the cabin expressing to him their thanks. To this he
replied in the following note:--
"SIRS: The reception of your letter of thanks to me of
this date I acknowledge with a heart that deeply feels
and fully appreciates the kindly feeling that has
prompted you to this act. I need not assure you that
your commander has, and ever will have, a lively
interest in your welfare. You have left your homes,
friends, and country; indeed, you have bid farewell
for a time to the whole civilized world, for the
purpose of aiding me in discovering the mysterious,
hidden parts of the earth. I therefore must and shall
care for you as a prudent father cares for his
faithful children."
October tenth, after careful preparation, Captain Hall started northward
on an experiment in the way of sledging. He purposed more extended
sledge journeys in the spring, until the Pole itself should be reached.
He took two sledges, drawn by seven dogs each. Captain Hall and Joe
accompanied one, and Mr. Chester, the mate, and Hans, the other. Their
experience on this trip was simply of the Arctic kind, of which we have
seen so much. Deep snows, treacherous ice, which was in a state of
change by the action of winds and currents, intense cold, and vexed and
vicious dogs, all put in their appearance. But Captain Hall says, "These
drawbacks are nothing new to an Arctic traveler. We laugh at them, and
plod on determined to execute the service faithfully to the end." The
sledge expedition was gone two weeks, and traveled north fifty miles.
They discovered a lake and a river. They came to the southern cape of a
bay which they had seen from the "Polaris" in her drift from above. They
named the bay Newman Bay, and attached Senator Sumner's name to the
cape. From the top of an iceberg they surveyed the bay, and believed it
extended inland thirty miles. Crossing the mouth of the bay they
clambered up its high northern cape, which they called Brevoort. Here
they looked westward over the waters up which a good distance past this
point the "Polaris" had sailed, and which they had named Robeson Strait.
They peered longingly into the misty distance, and fondly hoped to
penetrate it with sledge or steamer in the spring. Joe, the architect of
the journey, built here their sixth snow-hut. It was warmer than at
Thank-God Harbor, and birds, musk-oxen, foxes, and rabbits, were seen,
and bear and wolf tracks were in the vicinity. Captain Hall was joyous
at the future prospect. He wrote a dispatch from this high latitude in
which he says, "We have all been well up to this time." A copy of it was
placed in a copper cylinder and buried under a pile of stones. The party
turned their faces homeward; Captain Hall's Arctic explorations were
ended.