THE GREAT POLAR CURRENT.
Soon more numerous flocks of birds, petrels, puffins, and others which
inhabit those barren shores, gave token of their approach to
Greenland. The _Forward_ was moving rapidly northward, leaving behind
her a long line of dark smoke.
Tuesday, the 17th of April, the ice-master caught the first sight of
the _blink_[1] of the ice. It was visible at least twenty miles off to
the north-northwest. In spite of some tolerably thick clouds it
lighted up brilliantly all the air near the horizon. No one of those
on board who had ever seen this phenomenon before could fail to
recognize it, and they felt assured from its whiteness that this blink
was due to a vast field of ice lying about thirty miles farther than
they could see, and that it came from the reflection of its luminous
rays.
[Footnote 1: A peculiar and brilliant color of the air above a large
expanse of ice.]
Towards evening the wind shifted to the south, and became favorable;
Shandon was able to carry sail, and as a measure of economy they
extinguished the furnace fires. The _Forward_ under her topsails, jib,
and foresail, sailed on towards Cape Farewell.
At three o'clock on the 18th they made out an ice-stream, which, like
a narrow but brilliant band, divided the lines of the water and sky.
It was evidently descending rather from the coast of Greenland than
from Davis Strait, for the ice tended to keep on the western side of
Baffin's Bay. An hour later, and the _Forward_ was passing through the
detached fragments of the ice-stream, and in the thickest part the
pieces of ice, although closely welded together, were rising and
falling with the waves.
At daybreak the next morning the watch saw a sail; it was the
_Valkyria_, a Danish corvette, sailing towards the _Forward_, bound to
Newfoundland. The current from the strait became perceptible, and
Shandon had to set more sail to overcome it.
At that moment the commander, the doctor, James Wall, and Johnson were
all together on the poop-deck, observing the force and direction of
the current. The doctor asked if it were proved that this current was
felt throughout Baffin's Bay.
"There's no doubt of it," answered Shandon; "and sailing-vessels have
hard work in making headway against it."
"And it's so much the harder," added James Wall, "because it's met on
the eastern coast of America, as well as on the western coast of
Greenland."
"Well," said the doctor, "that serves to confirm those who seek a
Northwest Passage. The current moves at the rate of about five miles
an hour, and it is hard to imagine that it rises at the bottom of a
gulf."
"That is very likely, Doctor," answered Shandon, "because, while this
current flows from north to south, there is a contrary current in
Behring Strait, which flows from south to north, and which must be the
cause of this one."
"Hence," said the doctor, "you must admit that America is completely
separated from the polar regions, and that the water from the Pacific
skirts its whole northern coast, until it reaches the Atlantic.
Besides, the greater elevation of the water of the Pacific is another
reason for its flowing towards the European seas."
"But," said Shandon, "there must be some facts which support this
theory; and if there are," he added with gentle irony, "our learned
friend must be familiar with them."
"Well," answered the latter, complacently, "if it interests you at all
I can tell you that whales, wounded in Davis Strait, have been found
afterwards on the coast of Tartary, still carrying a European harpoon
in their side."
"And unless they doubled Cape Horn, or the Cape of Good Hope,"
answered Shandon, "they must have gone around the northern coast of
America. There can be no doubt of that, Doctor."
"And if you were not convinced, my dear Shandon," said the doctor,
smiling, "I could produce still other evidence, such as the floating
wood with which Davis Strait is filled, larch, aspen, and other
southern kinds. Now we know that the Gulf Stream could not carry them
into the strait; and if they come out from it they must have got in
through Behring Strait."
"I am perfectly convinced, Doctor, and I must say it would be hard to
maintain the other side against you."
"See there," said Johnson, "there's something that will throw light on
this discussion. It's a large piece of wood floating on the water; if
the commander will give us leave, we can put a rope about it, hoist it
on board, and ask it the name of its country."
"That's the way!" said the doctor; "after the rule we have the
example."
Shandon gave the necessary orders; the brig was turned towards the
piece of wood, and soon the crew were hoisting it aboard, although not
without considerable trouble.
[Illustration]
It was the trunk of a mahogany-tree, eaten to its centre by worms,
which fact alone made it light enough to float.
"This is a real triumph," exclaimed the doctor, enthusiastically,
"for, since the Atlantic currents could not have brought it into Davis
Strait, since it could not have reached the polar waters from the
rivers of North America, as the tree grows under the equator, it is
evident that it must have come direct from Behring Strait. And
besides, see those sea-worms which have eaten it; they belong to warm
latitudes."
"It certainly gives the lie to those who deny the existence of a
Northwest Passage."
"It fairly kills them," answered the doctor. "See here, I'll give you
the route of this mahogany-tree: it was carried to the Pacific Ocean
by some river of the Isthmus of Panama or of Guatemala; thence the
current carried it along the coast of America as far as Behring
Strait, and so it was forced into the polar waters; it is neither so
old nor so completely water-logged that we cannot set its departure at
some recent date; it escaped all the obstacles of the many straits
coming into Baffin's Bay, and being quickly seized by the arctic
current it came through Davis Strait to be hoisted on board the
_Forward_ for the great joy of Dr. Clawbonny, who asks the commander's
permission to keep a piece as a memorial."
"Of course," answered Shandon; "but let me tell you in my turn that
you will not be the only possessor of such a waif. The Danish governor
of the island of Disco--"
"On the coast of Greenland," continued the doctor, "has a mahogany
table, made from a tree found in the same way; I know it, my dear
Shandon. Very well; I don't grudge him his table, for if there were
room enough on board, I could easily make a sleeping-room out of
this."
On the night of Wednesday the wind blew with extreme violence;
drift-wood was frequently seen; the approach to the coast became more
dangerous at a time when icebergs are numerous; hence the commander
ordered sail to be shortened, and the _Forward_ went on under merely
her foresail and forestay-sail.
The thermometer fell below the freezing-point. Shandon distributed
among the crew suitable clothing, woollen trousers and jackets,
flannel shirts, and thick woollen stockings, such as are worn by
Norwegian peasants. Every man received in addition a pair of
water-proof boots.
As for Captain, he seemed contented with his fur; he appeared
indifferent to the changes of temperature, as if he were thoroughly
accustomed to such a life; and besides, a Danish dog was unlikely to
be very tender. The men seldom laid eyes on him, for he generally kept
himself concealed in the darkest parts of the vessel.
Towards evening, through a rift in the fog, the coast of Greenland
could be seen in longitude 37 degrees 2 minutes 7 seconds. Through his
glass the doctor was able to distinguish mountains separated by huge
glaciers; but the fog soon cut out this view, like the curtain of a
theatre falling at the most interesting part of a play.
[Illustration]
On the morning of the 20th of April, the _Forward_ found itself in
sight of an iceberg one hundred and fifty feet high, aground in this
place from time immemorial; the thaws have had no effect upon it, and
leave its strange shape unaltered. Snow saw it; in 1829 James Ross
took an exact drawing of it; and in 1851 the French lieutenant,
Bellot, on board of the _Prince Albert_, observed it. Naturally the
doctor wanted to preserve a memorial of the famous mountain, and he
made a very successful sketch of it.
It is not strange that such masses should run aground, and in
consequence become immovably fixed to the spot; as for every foot
above the surface of the water they have nearly two beneath, which
would give to this one a total height of about four hundred feet.
At last with a temperature at noon as low as 12 degrees, under a
snowy, misty sky, they sighted Cape Farewell. The _Forward_ arrived at
the appointed day; the unknown captain, if he cared to assume his
place in such gloomy weather, would have no need to complain.
"Then," said the doctor to himself, "there is this famous cape, with
its appropriate name! Many have passed it, as we do, who were destined
never to see it again! Is it an eternal farewell to one's friends in
Europe? You have all passed it, Frobisher, Knight, Barlow, Vaughan,
Scroggs, Barentz, Hudson, Blosseville, Franklin, Crozier, Bellot,
destined never to return home; and for you this cape was well named
Cape Farewell!"
It was towards the year 970 that voyagers, setting out from Iceland,
discovered Greenland. Sebastian Cabot, in 1498, went as high as
latitude 56 degrees; Gaspard and Michel Cotreal, from 1500 to 1502,
reached latitude 60 degrees; and in 1576 Martin Frobisher reached the
inlet which bears his name.
To John Davis belongs the honor of having discovered the strait, in
1585; and two years later in a third voyage this hardy sailor, this
great whaler, reached the sixty-third parallel, twenty-seven degrees
from the Pole.
Barentz in 1596, Weymouth in 1602, James Hall in 1605 and 1607,
Hudson, whose name was given to the large bay which runs so far back
into the continent of America, James Poole in 1611, went more or less
far into the straits, seeking the Northwest Passage, the discovery of
which would have greatly shortened the route between the two worlds.
Baffin, in 1616, found in the bay of that name Lancaster Sound; he was
followed in 1619 by James Monk, and in 1719 by Knight, Barlow,
Vaughan, and Scroggs, who were never heard of again.
In 1776, Lieutenant Pickersgill, sent to meet Captain Cook, who tried
to make his way through Behring Strait, reached latitude 68 degrees;
the next year, Young, on the same errand, went as far as Woman's
Island.
Then came James Ross, who in 1818 sailed all around the shores of
Baffin's Bay, and corrected the errors on the charts of his
predecessors.
Finally, in 1819 and 1820, the famous Parry made his way into
Lancaster Sound. In spite of numberless difficulties he reached
Melville Island, and won the prize of five thousand pounds offered by
act of Parliament to the English sailors who should cross the meridian
at a latitude higher than the seventy-seventh parallel.
In 1826, Beechey touched at Chamisso Island; James Ross wintered, from
1829 to 1833, in Prince Regent's Inlet, and, among other important
services, discovered the magnetic pole.
During this time Franklin, by a land-journey, defined the northern
coast of America, from Mackenzie River to Turnagain Point; Captain
Back followed the same route from 1823 to 1835; and these explorations
were completed in 1839 by Dease, Simpson, and Dr. Rae.
At last, Sir John Franklin, anxious to discover the Northwest Passage,
left England in 1845, with the _Erebus_ and the _Terror_; he entered
Baffin's Bay, and since his leaving Disco Island there has been no
news of his expedition.
His disappearance started numerous search-expeditions, which have
effected the discovery of the passage, and given the world definite
information about the rugged coasts of the polar lands. The boldest
sailors of England, France, and the United States hastened to these
terrible latitudes; and, thanks to their exertions, the tortuous,
complicated map of these regions has at last been placed in the
archives of the Royal Geographical Society of London.
The strange history of these lands crowded on the imagination of the
doctor, as he stood leaning on the rail, and gazing on the long track
of the brig. The names of those bold sailors thronged into his memory,
and it seemed to him that beneath the frozen arches of the ice he
could see the pale ghosts of those who never returned.
[Illustration]