DANGEROUS SAILING.
Shandon, Dr. Clawbonny, Johnson, Foker, and Strong, the cook, got into
one of the boats and made their way to shore.
The Governor, his wife and five children, all Esquimaux, received
their visitors kindly. The doctor, who was the philologist of the
party, knew enough Danish to establish friendly relations; moreover,
Foker, the interpreter of the party as well as ice-master, knew a
dozen or two words of the language of the Greenlanders, and with that
number of words one can express a great deal, if he is not too
ambitious.
[Illustration]
The Governor was born on the island of Disco, and he has never left
the place; he did the honors of his capital, which consisted of three
wooden houses, for himself and the Lutheran minister, of a school, and
shops which were supplied by what was cast upon the shore from wrecked
ships. The rest of the town consisted of snow huts, into which the
Esquimaux crawl through a single opening.
A great part of the population came out to meet the _Forward_, and
more than one of them went as far as the middle of the bay in his
kayak, fifteen feet long and two broad at the widest part.
The doctor knew that the word Esquimaux meant "eater of raw fish"; but
he knew too that this name is considered an insult in this country, so
he forbore giving it to the inhabitants of Greenland.
And yet, from the oily sealskin clothes and boots, from their squat,
fat figures, which make it hard to distinguish the men from the women,
it was easy to declare the nature of their food; besides, like all
fish-eating people, they were somewhat troubled by leprosy, but their
general health was not impaired by it.
The Lutheran minister and his wife, with whom the doctor had promised
himself an interesting talk, happened to be away on the shore of
Proven, south of Upernavik; hence he was compelled to seek the company
of the Governor. The chief magistrate did not appear to be very well
informed: a little less, he would have been a fool; a little more, and
he would have known how to read.
In spite of that, the doctor questioned him about the commerce,
habits, and manners of the Esquimaux; and he learned, by means of
gestures, that the seals were worth about forty pounds when delivered
at Copenhagen; a bear-skin brought forty Danish dollars, the skin of a
blue fox four, and of a white fox two or three dollars.
In order to make his knowledge complete, the doctor wanted to visit an
Esquimaux hut; a man who seeks information is capable of enduring
anything; fortunately the opening of these huts was too small, and the
enthusiastic doctor could not get through. It was fortunate for him,
for there is nothing more repulsive than the sight of that crowd of
living and dead objects, of seal's bodies and Esquimaux-flesh, decayed
fish and unclean clothing, which fill a Greenland hut; there is no
window to renew that suffocating air; there is only a hole at the top
of the cabin which lets the smoke out, but gives no relief to the
stench.
[Illustration: "Fortunately the opening of these huts was too small,
and the enthusiastic doctor could not get through."]
Foker gave all these details to the doctor, but he none the less
bewailed his portliness. He wanted to judge for himself these
emanations _sui generis_.
"I am sure," said he, "that one could get used to it in time." _In
time_ shows clearly the doctor's character.
During these ethnographic studies on his part, Shandon was busying
himself, according to his instructions, with procuring means of travel
on the ice; he was obliged to pay four pounds for a sledge and six
dogs, and the natives were reluctant to sell even at this price.
[Illustration]
Shandon would have liked to engage Hans Christian, the skilful driver
of the dogs, who accompanied Captain MacClintock, but Hans was then in
Southern Greenland.
Then came up the great question of the day; was there at Upernavik a
European awaiting the arrival of the _Forward_? Did the Governor know
of any stranger, probably an Englishman, who had come into these
latitudes? How recently had they seen any whalers or other ships?
To these questions the Governor answered that no stranger had landed
on that part of the coast for more than ten months.
Shandon asked the names of the whalers which had last arrived; he
recognized none. He was in despair.
"You must confess, Doctor, that it passes all comprehension," he said
to his companion. "Nothing at Cape Farewell! nothing at Disco! nothing
at Upernavik!"
"Tell me in a few days from now, nothing at Melville Bay, my dear
Shandon, and I will salute you as sole captain of the _Forward_."
The boat returned to the brig towards evening, bringing back the
visitors to the shore; Strong had bought several dozen eider-duck's
eggs, which were twice as large as hen's eggs, and of a greenish
color. It was not much, but it was very refreshing for a crew
accustomed to little but salt meat.
The next day the wind was fair, but yet Shandon did not set sail; he
wanted to wait another day, and, to satisfy his conscience, to give
time for any member of the human race to rejoin the _Forward_; he even
fired off, every hour, the ship's gun, which re-echoed among the
icebergs; but he only succeeded in frightening the flocks of
molly-mokes[1] and rotches.[1] During the night many rockets were set
off; but in vain. He had to give the order to set sail.
[Footnote 1: Sea-birds common in these latitudes.]
The 8th of May, at six o'clock in the morning, the _Forward_, under
her topsails, foresail, and main-top-gallant-sail, soon lost sight of
the station of Upernavik, and hideous long poles on which were hanging
along the shore the seals' entrails and deers' stomachs.
The wind was southeast, the thermometer stood at 32 degrees. The sun
pierced through the fog and the ice melted a little.
The reflection, however, injured the sight of many of the crew.
Wolston, the armorer, Gripper, Clifton, and Bell were attacked by
snow-blindness, which is very common in the spring, and which totally
blinds many of the Esquimaux. The doctor advised all, the unharmed as
well as the suffering, to cover their faces with a green veil, and he
was the first to follow his own recommendation.
The dogs bought by Shandon at Upernavik were rather wild; but they
soon got used to their new quarters, and Captain showed no dislike of
his new companions; he seemed to know their ways. Clifton was not the
last to remark that Captain seemed to be familiar with the dogs of
Greenland. And they, always half starved on shore, only thought of
making up for it when at sea.
The 9th of May the _Forward_ passed within a few cable-lengths of the
westernmost of the Baffin Islands. The doctor noticed many rocks
between the islands and the mainland which were what are called
crimson cliffs; they were covered with snow as red as carmine, which
Dr. Kane says is of purely vegetable origin; Clawbonny wanted to
examine this singular phenomenon, but the ice forbade their
approaching them; although the temperature was rising, it was easy to
see that the icebergs and ice-streams were accumulating toward the
north of Baffin's Bay.
After leaving Upernavik the land presented a different appearance, and
huge glaciers were sharply defined against the gray horizon. On the
10th the _Forward_ left on its right Kingston Bay, near the
seventy-fourth degree of latitude; Lancaster Sound opened into the sea
many hundred miles to the west.
But then this vast expanse of water was hidden beneath enormous fields
of ice, in which arose the hummocks, uniform as a homogeneous
crystallization. Shandon had the furnace-fires lighted, and until the
11th of May the _Forward_ advanced by a tortuous course, tracing with
her smoke against the sky the path she was following through the
water.
But new obstacles soon presented themselves; the passages were closing
in consequence of the incessant crowding of the floating masses; every
moment threatened to close up the clear water before the _Forward_,
and if she were nipped, it would be hard to get her out. Every one
knew it and was thinking about it.
Hence, on board of this ship without any definite aim, any known
destination, which was blindly pushing on northward, some symptoms of
hesitation began to appear; among these men accustomed to dangers,
many, forgetting the advantages which were promised them, regretted
having ventured so far. A certain demoralization became common, which
was further increased by the fears of Clifton and the talk of two or
three ringleaders, such as Pen, Gripper, Warren, and Wolston.
Exhausting fatigue was added to the moral disquiet of the crew, for,
on the 12th of May, the brig was caught fast; the steam was of no
avail. A path had to be cut through the ice. It was no easy task to
manage the saws in the floes which were six or seven feet thick; when
two parallel grooves had divided the ice for a hundred feet, it was
necessary to break the part that lay between with axes and bars; next
they had to fasten anchors in a hole made by a huge auger; then the
crew would turn the capstan and haul the ship along by the force of
their arms; the greatest difficulty consisted in driving the detached
pieces beneath the floes, so as to give space for the vessel, and they
had to be pushed under by means of long iron-headed poles.
[Illustration]
Moreover, this continued toil with saws, capstan, and poles, all of
which was persistent, compulsory, and dangerous, amid the dense fog or
snow, while the air was so cold, and their eyes so exposed, their
doubt so great, did much to weaken the crew of the _Forward_ and to
act on their imagination.
When sailors have to deal with a man who is energetic, bold, and
determined, who knows what he wants, whither he is going, what aim he
has in view, confidence animates them all in spite of themselves; they
are firmly united to their leader, strong with his force and calm with
his calmness. But on board of the brig they were aware of the
commander's uncertainty, they knew that he hesitated before the
unknown aim and destination. In spite of the energy of his character,
his uncertainty was clearly to be seen by his uncertain orders,
incomplete manoeuvres, his sudden outbursts, and a thousand petty
details which could not escape the sharp eyes of the crew.
And then, Shandon was not the captain of the ship, the master under
God, which was enough to encourage the discussion of his orders; and
from discussion to disobedience is but a short step.
The malcontents soon brought over to their number the first engineer,
who, hitherto, had been a slave to his duty.
The 16th of May, six days after the _Forward_ had reached the ice,
Shandon had not made two miles to northward. They were threatened with
being detained in the ice until the next season. Matters had a serious
look.
Towards eight o'clock of the evening, Shandon and the doctor,
accompanied by Garry, went out to reconnoitre the vast plains; they
took care not to go too far from the ship, for it was hard to find any
fixed points in this white solitude, which was ever changing in
appearance. Refraction kept producing strange effects, much to the
doctor's astonishment; at one place, where he thought he had but an
easy jump before him, he had to leap some five or six feet; or else
the contrary happened, and in either case the result was a tumble,
which if not dangerous was at any rate painful, for the ice was as
hard and slippery as glass.
Shandon and his two companions went out to seek a possible passage;
three miles from the ship, they succeeded with some difficulty in
ascending an iceberg about three hundred feet high. From that point
nothing met their eyes but a confused mass, like the ruins of a vast
city, with shattered monuments, overthrown towers, and prostrate
palaces,--a real chaos. The sun was just peering above the jagged
horizon, and sent forth long, oblique rays of light, but not of heat,
as if something impassable for heat lay between it and this wild
country.
[Illustration]
The sea appeared perfectly covered as far as eye could reach.
"How shall we get through?" asked the doctor.
"I don't know," answered Shandon; "but we shall get through, if we
have to blow our way through with powder. I certainly sha'n't stay in
the ice till next spring."
"But that happened to the _Fox_, and not far from here. Bah!" said the
doctor; "we shall get through with a little philosophy. You will see
that is worth all the machinery in the world."
"I must say," answered Shandon, "this year does not begin very well."
"True, Shandon, and I notice also that Baffin's Bay seems to be
returning to the state it was in before 1817."
"Don't you think, Doctor, it has always been as it is now?"
"No, my dear Shandon, from time to time there have been great
breakings of the ice which no one can explain; so, up to 1817 this sea
was continually full, when an enormous sort of inundation took place,
which cast the icebergs into the ocean, most of which reached the
banks of Newfoundland. From that day Baffin's Bay was nearly free, and
was visited by whalers."
"So," asked Shandon, "from that time voyages to the North became
easier?"
"Incomparably; but for some years it has been noticed that the bay
seems to be resuming its old ways and threatens to become closed,
possibly for a long time, to sailors. An additional reason, by the
way, for pushing on as far as possible. And yet it must be said, we
look like people who are pushing on in unknown ways, with the doors
forever closing behind us."
"Would you advise me to go back?" asked Shandon, trying to read into
the depths of the doctor's eyes.
"I! I have never retreated yet, and, even if we should never get back,
I say go on. Still, I want to make it clear that if we act
imprudently, we do it with our eyes open."
"And you, Garry, what do you think about it?" asked Shandon of the
sailor.
"I, Commander, should go straight on; I agree with Dr. Clawbonny; but
do as you please; command, we shall obey."
"They don't all talk as you do, Garry," resumed Shandon; "they are not
all ready to obey. And if they refuse to obey my orders?"
"I have given you my opinion, Commander," answered Garry, coldly,
"because you asked for it; but you are not obliged to follow it."
Shandon did not answer; he scanned the horizon closely, and then
descended with his companions to the ice-fields.