THE CAPTAIN'S PLANS.
The appearance of this famous person was variously received by the
different members of the crew: some allied themselves strongly with
him, moved both by boldness and by avarice; others took renewed
interest in the expedition, but they reserved to themselves the right
of protesting later; besides, at that time, it was hard to make any
resistance to such a man. Hence every man went back to his place. The
20th of May was Sunday, and consequently a day of rest for the crew.
The officers took counsel together in the doctor's cabin; there were
present Hatteras, Shandon, Wall, Johnson, and the doctor.
"Gentlemen," said the captain, with his peculiarly gentle but
impressive voice, "you know my project of going to the Pole; I want to
get your opinion of the undertaking. What do you think about it,
Shandon?"
"I have not to think, Captain," answered Shandon, coldly; "I have only
to obey."
Hatteras was not surprised at this answer.
"Richard Shandon," he resumed with equal coldness, "I ask your opinion
about our probable chance of success."
"Well, Captain," answered Shandon, "facts must answer for me; all
attempts hitherto have failed; I hope we may be more fortunate."
"We shall be. And, gentlemen, what do you think?"
"As for me," replied the doctor, "I consider your design practicable,
Captain; and since there is no doubt but that at some time or other
explorers will reach the Pole, I don't see why we should not do it."
"There are very good reasons why we should," answered Hatteras, "for
we have taken measures to make it possible, and we shall profit by the
experience of others. And, Shandon, you must accept my thanks for the
care you have given to the equipment of the brig; there are some
ill-disposed men in the crew, whom I shall soon bring to reason; but
on the whole, I can give nothing but praise."
[Illustration]
Shandon bowed coldly. His position on the _Forward_, of which he had
thought himself commander, was a false one. Hatteras understood this,
and said nothing more about it.
"As for you, gentlemen," he resumed, addressing Wall and Johnson, "I
could not myself have chosen officers more skilled and intrepid."
"On my word, Captain, I am your man," answered Johnson; "and although
I think your plan a very bold one, you can count on me to the end."
"And on me too," said Wall.
"As for you, Doctor, I know your worth--"
"Well, you know then a great deal more than I do," answered the
doctor, quickly.
"Now, gentlemen," said Hatteras, "it is well that you should know on
what good grounds I have made up my mind about the accessibility of
the Pole. In 1817 the _Neptune_, of Aberdeen, went to the north of
Spitzbergen, as far as latitude 82 degrees. In 1826 the celebrated
Parry, after his third voyage in polar seas, started also from the
extremity of Spitzbergen, and on sledges went one hundred and fifty
miles farther north. In 1852, Captain Inglefield reached, through
Smith's Sound, latitude 78 degrees 35 minutes. All these were English
ships, and were commanded by Englishmen, our fellow-countrymen."
Here Hatteras paused.
"I ought to add," he resumed with some formality, and as if he could
hardly bring himself to utter the words,--"I ought to add that in 1854
the American, Captain Kane, in the brig _Advance_, went still farther
north, and that his lieutenant, Morton, journeying over the ice,
hoisted the United States flag beyond the eighty-second degree. Having
once said this, I shall not return to it. Now the main point is that
the captains of the _Neptune_, the _Enterprise_, the _Isabella_, and
the _Advance_ agree in the statement that beyond these high latitudes
there is an open polar sea, entirely free from ice."
"Free from ice!" cried Shandon, interrupting the captain, "it's
impossible!"
"You will notice, Shandon," observed Hatteras, quietly, while his eye
lighted up for an instant, "that I quote both facts and authorities. I
must add that in 1851, when Penny was stationed by the side of
Wellington Channel, his lieutenant, Stewart, found himself in the
presence of an open sea, and that his report was confirmed when, in
1853, Sir Edward Belcher wintered in Northumberland Bay, in latitude
76 degrees 52 minutes, and longitude 99 degrees 20 minutes; these
reports are indisputable, and one must be very incredulous not to
admit them."
"Still, Captain," persisted Shandon, "facts are as contradictory--"
"You're wrong, Shandon, you're wrong!" cried Dr. Clawbonny; "facts
never contradict a scientific statement; the captain will, I trust,
excuse me."
"Go on, Doctor!" said Hatteras.
"Well, listen to this, Shandon; it results very clearly from
geographical facts, and from the study of isothermal lines, that the
coldest spot on the globe is not on the Pole itself; like the magnetic
pole, it lies a few degrees distant. So the calculations of Brewster,
Berghaus, and other physicists prove that in our hemisphere there are
two poles of extreme cold: one in Asia in latitude 79 degrees 30
minutes N., and longitude 120 degrees E.; the other is in America, in
latitude 78 degrees N., and longitude 97 degrees W. This last alone
concerns us, and you see, Shandon, that it is more than twelve degrees
below the Pole. Well, I ask you why, then, the sea should not be as
free from ice as it often is in summer in latitude 66 degrees, that is
to say, at the southern end of Baffin's Bay?"
"Well put," answered Johnson; "Dr. Clawbonny talks of those things
like a man who understands them."
"It seems possible," said James Wall.
"Mere conjectures! nothing but hypotheses!" answered Shandon,
obstinately.
"Well, Shandon," said Hatteras, "let us consider the two cases; either
the sea is free from ice, or it is not, and in neither case will it be
impossible to reach the Pole. If it is free, the _Forward_ will take
us there without difficulty; if it is frozen, we must try to reach it
over the ice by our sledges. You will confess that it is not
impracticable; having once come with our brig to latitude 83 degrees,
we shall have only about six hundred miles between us and the Pole."
"And what are six hundred miles," said the doctor, briskly, "when it
is proved that a Cossack, Alexis Markoff, went along the frozen sea,
north of Russia, on sledges drawn by dogs, for a distance of eight
hundred miles, in twenty-four days?"
"You hear him, Shandon," answered Hatteras, "and will you say that an
Englishman cannot do as much as a Cossack?"
"Never!" cried the enthusiastic doctor.
"Never!" repeated the boatswain.
"Well, Shandon?" asked the captain.
"Captain," answered Shandon, coldly, "I can only repeat what I have
said,--I shall obey you."
"Well. Now," continued Hatteras, "let us consider our present
situation; we are caught in the ice, and it seems to me impossible for
us to reach Smith's Sound this year. This is what we must do."
Hatteras unfolded on the table one of the excellent charts published
in 1859 by the order of the Admiralty.
"Be good enough to look here. If Smith's Sound is closed, Lancaster
Sound is not, to the west of Baffin's Bay; in my opinion, we ought to
go up this sound as far as Barrow Strait, and thence to Beechey
Island. This has been done a hundred times by sailing-vessels; we
shall have no difficulty, going under steam. Once at Beechey Island,
we shall follow Wellington Sound as far northward as possible, to
where it meets the channel, connecting it with Queen's Sound, at the
place where the open sea was seen. It is now only the 20th of May; if
nothing happens, we shall be there in a month, and from there we shall
start for the Pole. What do you say to that, gentlemen?"
"Evidently," said Johnson, "it's the only way open to us."
"Well, we shall take it, and to-morrow. Let Sunday be a day of rest;
you will see, Shandon, that the Bible is read as usual; the religious
exercises do the men good, and a sailor more than any one ought to put
his trust in God."
"Very well, Captain," answered Shandon, who went away with the second
officer and the boatswain.
"Doctor," said Hatteras, pointing at Shandon, "there's an offended
man, whose pride has ruined him; I can no longer depend upon him."
Early the next day the captain had the launch lowered; he went to
reconnoitre the icebergs about the basin, of which the diameter was
hardly more than two hundred yards. He noticed that by the gradual
pressure of the ice, this space threatened to grow smaller; hence it
became necessary to make a breach somewhere, to save the ship from
being crushed; by the means he employed, it was easy to see that John
Hatteras was an energetic man.
In the first place he had steps cut, by which he climbed to the top of
an iceberg; from that point he saw it would be easy to open a path to
the southwest; by his orders an opening was made in the middle of an
iceberg, a task which was completed by Monday evening.
[Illustration]
Hatteras could not depend on his blasting-cylinders of eight or ten
pounds of powder, whose action would have been insignificant against
such large masses; they were only of use to break the field-ice; hence
he placed in the opening a thousand pounds of powder, carefully laying
it where it should be of the utmost service. This chamber, to which
ran a long fuse, surrounded by gutta-percha, opened on the outside.
The gallery, leading thereto, was filled with snow and lumps of ice,
to which the cold of the next night gave the consistency of granite.
In fact, the temperature, under the influence of the east-wind, fell
to 12 degrees.
The next day at seven o'clock the _Forward_ was under steam, ready to
seize any chance of escape. Johnson was charged with lighting the
mine; the fuse was calculated to burn half an hour before exploding
the powder. Hence Johnson had plenty of time to get back to the ship;
indeed, within ten minutes he was at his post.
The crew were all on deck; the day was dry and tolerably clear; the
snow was no longer falling; Hatteras, standing on the deck with
Shandon and the doctor, counted the minutes on his watch.
At thirty-five minutes after eight a dull explosion was heard, much
less deafening than had been anticipated. The outline of the mountains
was suddenly changed, as by an earthquake; a dense white smoke rose
high in the air, and long cracks appeared in the side of the iceberg,
of which the upper part was hurled to a great distance, and fell in
fragments about the _Forward_.
But the way was by no means free yet; huge lumps of ice were suspended
upon the neighboring icebergs, and their fall threatened to close the
exit.
Hatteras saw their situation in a flash of the eye.
"Wolston!" he shouted.
The gunner hastened to him.
"Captain!" he said.
"Put a triple charge in the forward gun, and ram it in as hard as
possible!"
"Are we going to batter the iceberg down with cannon-balls?" asked the
doctor.
"No," answered Hatteras. "That would do no good. No balls, Wolston,
but a triple charge of powder. Be quick!"
In a few moments the gun was loaded.
"What is he going to do without a ball?" muttered Shandon between his
teeth.
"We'll soon see," answered the doctor.
"We are all ready, Captain," cried Wolston.
"Well," answered Hatteras. "Brunton!" he shouted to the engineer,
"make ready! Forward a little!"
Brunton opened the valves, and the screw began to move; the _Forward_
drew near the blown-up iceberg.
"Aim carefully at the passage!" cried the captain to the gunner.
He obeyed; when the brig was only half a cable-length distant,
Hatteras gave the order,--
"Fire!"
A loud report followed, and the fragments of ice, detached by the
commotion of the air, fell suddenly into the sea. The simple
concussion had been enough.
[Illustration]
"Put on full steam, Brunton!" shouted Hatteras. "Straight for the
passage, Johnson!"
Johnson was at the helm; the brig, driven by the screw, which tossed
the water freely, entered easily the open passage. It was time. The
_Forward_ had hardly passed through the opening, before it closed
behind it.
It was an exciting moment, and the only calm and collected man on
board was the captain. So the crew, amazed at the success of this
device, could not help shouting,--
"Hurrah for John Hatteras!"