THE ENTRANCE OF DAVIS STRAIT.
During that day the _Forward_ made easy progress through the loose
ice; the breeze was in a good quarter, but the temperature was very
low; the wind coming across the ice-fields was thoroughly chilled.
At night the strictest care was necessary; the icebergs crowded
together in this narrow passage; often they could be counted by the
hundred on the horizon; they had been loosened from the lofty coasts
by the incessant beating of the waves and the warmth of the spring
month, and they were floating down to melt away in the depths of the
ocean. Often, too, they came across large masses of floating wood,
which they were obliged to avoid, so that the crow's-nest was placed
in position on the top of the foremast; it consisted of a sort of tub,
in which the ice-master, partly sheltered from the wind, scanned the
sea, giving notice of the ice in sight, and even, if necessary,
directing the ship's course.
[Illustration]
The nights were short; since the 31st of January the sun had
reappeared in refraction, and was every day rising higher and higher
above the horizon. But it was hid by the snow, which, if it did not
produce utter darkness, rendered navigation difficult.
April 21st, Cape Desolation appeared through the mist; hard work was
wearying the crew; since the brig had entered the ice, the sailors had
had no rest; it was now necessary to have recourse to steam to force a
way through the accumulated masses.
The doctor and Johnson were talking together on the after-deck, while
Shandon was snatching a few hours of sleep in his cabin. Clawbonny was
very fond of talking with the old sailor, whose numerous voyages had
given him a valuable education. The two had made great friends of one
another.
"You see, Dr. Clawbonny," said Johnson, "this country is not like any
other; its name is Greenland, but there are very few weeks of the year
in which it deserves this name."
"But, Johnson," answered the doctor, "who can say whether in the tenth
century this name did not suit it? More than one change of this sort
has taken place on the globe, and I should astonish you much more by
saying that, according to Icelandic chroniclers, two hundred villages
flourished on this continent eight or nine hundred years ago."
"You astonish me so much, Dr. Clawbonny, that I can't believe you; for
it's a sterile country."
"Well, sterile as it is, it supports a good many inhabitants, and
among them are some civilized Europeans."
"Without doubt; at Disco and at Upernavik we shall find men who are
willing to live in such a climate; but I always supposed they stayed
there from necessity, and not because they liked it."
"I think you are right; still, men get accustomed to everything, and
these Greenlanders appear to me better off than the workingmen of our
large cities; they may be unfortunate, but they are not miserable. I
say unfortunate, but that is not exactly what I mean; in fact, if they
are not quite as comfortable as those who live in temperate regions,
they, nevertheless, are accustomed to the severity of the climate, and
find in it an enjoyment which we should never imagine."
"We have to think so, Dr. Clawbonny, because Heaven is just; but I
have often visited these coasts, and I am always saddened at the sight
of its gloomy loneliness; the capes, promontories, and bays ought to
have more attractive names, for Cape Farewell and Cape Desolation are
not of a sort to cheer sailors."
"I have often made the same remark," answered the doctor; "but these
names have a geographical value which is not to be forgotten; they
describe the adventures of those who gave them; along with the names
of Davis, Baffin, Hudson, Ross, Parry, Franklin, Bellot, if I find
Cape Desolation, I also find soon Mercy Bay; Cape Providence makes up
for Port Anxiety, Repulse Bay brings me to Cape Eden, and after
leaving Point Turnagain I rest in Refuge Bay; in that way I have under
my eyes the whole succession of dangers, checks, obstacles, successes,
despairs, and victories connected with the great names of my country;
and, like a series of antique medals, this nomenclature gives me the
whole history of these seas."
"Well reasoned, Doctor; and may we find more bays of Success in our
journey than capes of Despair!"
"I hope so, Johnson; but, tell me, have the crew got over their
fears?"
"Somewhat, sir; and yet, to tell the truth, since we entered these
straits, they have begun to be very uneasy about the unknown captain;
more than one expected to see him appear at the end of Greenland; and
so far no news of him. Between ourselves, Doctor, don't you think that
is a little strange!"
"Yes, Johnson, I do."
"Do you believe the captain exists?"
"Without any doubt."
"But what reason can he have had for acting in this way?"
"To speak frankly, Johnson, I imagine that he wants to get the crew so
far away that it will be impossible for them to turn back. Now, if he
had appeared on board when we set sail, and every one had known where
we were going, he might have been embarrassed."
"How so?"
"Why, if he wants to try any superhuman enterprise, if he wants to go
where so many have failed, do you think he would have succeeded in
shipping a crew? But, once on the way, it is easy to go so far that to
go farther becomes an absolute necessity."
"Possibly, Doctor; I have known more than one bold explorer, whose
name alone would have frightened every one, and who would have found
no one to accompany him on his perilous expeditions--"
"Except me," said the doctor.
"And me," continued Johnson. "I tell you our captain is probably one
of those men. At any rate, we shall know sooner or later; I suppose
that at Upernavik or Melville Bay he will come quietly on board, and
let us know whither he intends to take the ship."
"Very likely, Johnson; but the difficulty will be to get to Melville
Bay; see how thick the ice is about us! The _Forward_ can hardly make
her way through it. See there, that huge expanse!"
[Illustration]
"We whalers call that an ice-field, that is to say, an unbroken
surface of ice, the limits of which cannot be seen."
"And what do you call this broken field of long pieces more or less
closely connected?"
"That is a pack; if it's round we call it a patch, and a stream if it
is long."
"And that floating ice?"
"That is drift-ice; if a little higher it would be icebergs; they are
very dangerous to ships, and they have to be carefully avoided. See,
down there on the ice-field, that protuberance caused by the pressure
of the ice; we call that a hummock; if the base were under water, we
should call it a cake; we have to give names to them all to
distinguish them."
[Illustration]
"Ah, it is a strange sight," exclaimed the doctor, as he gazed at the
wonders of the northern seas; "one's imagination is touched by all
these different shapes!"
"True," answered Johnson, "the ice takes sometimes such curious
shapes; and we men never fail to explain them in our own way."
"See there, Johnson; see that singular collection of blocks of ice!
Would one not say it was a foreign city, an Eastern city, with
minarets and mosques in the moonlight? Farther off is a long row of
Gothic arches, which remind us of the chapel of Henry VII., or the
Houses of Parliament."
[Illustration: "Would one not say it was a foreign city, an Eastern
city, with minarets and mosques in the moonlight?"]
"Everything can be found there; but those cities or churches are very
dangerous, and we must not go too near them. Some of those minarets
are tottering, and the smallest of them would crush a ship like the
_Forward_."
"And yet men have dared to come into these seas under sail alone! How
could a ship be trusted in such perils without the aid of steam?"
"Still it has been done; when the wind is unfavorable, and I have
known that happen more than once, it is usual to anchor to one of
these blocks of ice; we should float more or less around with them,
but we would wait for a fair wind; it is true that, travelling in that
way, months would be sometimes wasted where we shall need only a few
days."
[Illustration]
"It seems to me," said the doctor, "that the temperature is falling."
"That would be a pity," answered Johnson, "for there will have to be a
thaw before these masses separate, and float away into the Atlantic;
besides, they are more numerous in Davis Strait, because the two
stretches of land approach one another between Cape Walsingham and
Holsteinborg; but above latitude 67 degrees we shall find in May and
June more navigable seas."
"Yes; but we must get through this first."
"We must get through, Doctor; in June and July we should have found
the passage free, as do the whalers; but our orders were strict; we
had to be here in April. If I'm not very much mistaken, our captain is
a sound fellow with an idea firm in his head; his only reason for
leaving so early was to go far. Whoever survives will see."
The doctor was right about the falling of the temperature; at noon the
thermometer stood at 6 degrees, and a breeze was blowing from the
northwest, which, while it cleared the sky, aided the current in
accumulating the floating ice in the path of the _Forward_. It did not
all follow the same course; often some pieces, and very high ones,
too, floated in the opposite direction under the influence of a
submarine current.
The difficulties of this navigation may be readily understood; the
engineers had no repose; the engines were controlled from the bridge
by means of levers, which started, stopped, and reversed them
instantly, at the orders of the officer in command. Sometimes it was
necessary to hasten forward to enter an opening in the ice, again to
race with a mass of ice which threatened to block up their only
egress, or some piece, suddenly upsetting, obliged the brig to back
quickly, in order to escape destruction. This mass of ice, carried and
accumulated by the great polar current, was hurried through the
strait, and if the frost should unite it, it would present an
impassable barrier to the _Forward_.
[Illustration]
In these latitudes numberless birds were to be found; petrels and
contremaitres were flying here and there, with deafening cries; there
were also many gulls, with their large heads, short necks, and small
beaks, which were extending their long wings and braving the snow
which the storm was whirling about. This profusion of winged beings
enlivened the scene.
Numerous pieces of wood were drifting along, clashing continually into
one another; a few whales with large heads approached the ship; but
they could not think of chasing them, although Simpson, the harpooner,
earnestly desired it. Towards evening several seals were seen, which,
with their noses just above the water, were swimming among the great
pieces of ice.
On the 22d the temperature was still falling; the _Forward_ carried a
great deal of steam to reach an easier sailing-place; the wind blew
steadily from the northwest; the sails were furled.
During Sunday the sailors had little to do. After divine service,
which was read by Shandon, the crew betook themselves to chasing wild
birds, of which they caught a great many. These birds, prepared
according to Dr. Clawbonny's method, were an agreeable addition to the
messes of the officers and crew.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, the _Forward_ sighted the Kin of
Sael, which lay east one quarter northeast, and the Mount Sukkertop,
southeast one quarter east half-east; the sea was very high; from time
to time a dense fog descended suddenly from the gray sky.
Notwithstanding, at noon they were able to take an observation. The
ship was found to be in latitude 65 degrees 20 minutes and longitude
54 degrees 22 minutes. They would have to go two degrees farther north
before they would find clearer sailing.
During the three following days, the 24th, 25th, and 26th of April,
they had uninterruptedly to fight with the ice; the management of the
engines became very tedious; every minute steam was shut off or
reversed, and escaped from the safety-valve.
In the dense mist their approach to the icebergs could be known only
by the dull roar of the avalanches; then the vessel would shift its
course at once; then there was the danger of running into the masses
of frozen fresh water, which were as clear as crystal and as hard as
stone. Richard Shandon used to take aboard a quantity of this ice
every day to supply the ship with fresh water.
The doctor could not accustom himself to the optical illusions
produced by refraction; indeed, an iceberg ten or twelve miles distant
used to seem to him to be a small piece of ice close by; he tried to
get used to this strange phenomenon, in order to be able by and by to
overcome the mistakes of his eyesight.
At last, both by towing the brig along the fields of ice and by
pushing off threatening blocks with poles, the crew was thoroughly
exhausted; and yet, on the 27th of April, the _Forward_ was still
detained on the impassable Polar Circle.
[Illustration]