THE FORWARD DRIVEN SOUTHWARD.
Towards evening the weather cleared up, and land was clearly to be
seen between Cape Sepping and Cape Clarence, which juts out to the
east, then to the south, and is connected to the mainland on the west
by a low tongue of land. There was no ice at the entrance of Regent's
Sound; but it was densely massed beyond Leopold Harbor, as if to form
an impassable barrier to the northward progress of the _Forward_.
Hatteras, who, although he carefully concealed his feelings, was
exceedingly annoyed, had to blow out a way with powder in order to
enter Leopold Harbor; he reached it at midday, on Sunday, May 27th;
the brig was securely anchored to the large icebergs, which were as
firm, solid, and hard as rock.
At once the captain, followed by the doctor, Johnson, and his dog
Duke, leaped out upon the ice and soon reached the land. Duke leaped
about with joy; besides, since the captain had made himself known, he
had become very sociable and very gentle, preserving his ill-temper
for some of the crew, whom his master disliked as much as he did.
The harbor was free from the ice which is generally forced there by
the east-wind; the sharp peaks, covered with snow, looked like a
number of white waves. The house and lantern, built by James Ross,
were still in a tolerable state of preservation; but the provisions
appeared to have been eaten by foxes, and even by bears, of which
fresh traces were to be seen; part of the devastation was probably due
to the hand of man, for some ruins of Esquimaux huts were to be seen
on the shores of the bay.
The six tombs, enclosing six sailors of the _Enterprise_ and the
_Investigator_, were recognizable by little mounds of earth; they had
been respected by all, by both men and beasts.
On first setting his foot on this northern earth, the doctor was
really agitated; it would not be easy to describe the emotions one
feels at the sight of these ruined houses, tents, huts, supplies,
which nature preserves so perfectly in cold countries.
[Illustration]
"There," said he to his companions,--"there is the spot which James
Ross himself named Camp Refuge! If Franklin's expedition had reached
this spot, it would have been saved. Here is the engine which was
taken out and left here, and the furnace which warmed the crew of the
_Prince Albert_ in 1851; everything remains as it was left, and one
might fancy that Kennedy, her captain, had sailed away from here
yesterday. This is the launch that sheltered them for some days, for
Kennedy was separated from his ship, and only saved by Lieutenant
Bellot, who braved the cold of October to join him."
"A brave and excellent officer he was," said Johnson. "I knew him."
While the doctor eagerly sought for traces of previous winterings
there, Hatteras busied himself with collecting the scanty fragments of
fuel and provisions which lay there. The next day was devoted to
carrying them on board ship. The doctor explored the whole
neighborhood, never going too far from the brig, and sketched the most
remarkable views. The weather gradually grew milder; the snow-drifts
began to melt. The doctor made a tolerably large collection of
northern birds, such as gulls, divers, molly-nochtes, and eider-ducks,
which resemble ordinary ducks, with a white back and breast, a blue
belly, the top of the head blue, the rest of the plumage white, shaded
with different tints of green; many of them had already plucked from
their bellies the eider-down, which both the male and the female
devote to lining their nests. The doctor also saw great seals
breathing at the surface of the water, but he was unable to draw one.
[Illustration]
In his wanderings he discovered the stone on which is engraved the
following inscription:--
[E I]
1849,
which marks the passage of the _Enterprise_ and _Investigator_; he
pushed on to Cape Clarence, to the spot where, in 1833, John and James
Ross waited so impatiently for the ice to thaw. The earth was covered
with the skulls and bones of animals, and traces of the dwellings of
Esquimaux were to be seen.
[Illustration]
The doctor thought of erecting a cairn at Leopold Harbor, and of
leaving a letter there to indicate the passage of the _Forward_ and
the aim of the expedition. But Hatteras formally objected; he did not
wish to leave behind him any traces which might be of use to a rival.
In spite of all he could say, the doctor was obliged to yield to the
captain's will. Shandon was ready enough to blame this obstinacy, for,
in case of accident, no ship could have put out to the aid of the
_Forward_.
Hatteras refused to comply. Having completed his preparations on
Monday, he tried once more to go to the north through the ice, but,
after dangerous efforts, he was obliged to descend again Regent's
Channel; he was utterly averse to remaining at Leopold's Harbor, which
is open one day and closed the next by the unheralded motion of the
ice,--a frequent phenomenon in these seas, and one against which
navigators have to be ever on their guard.
If Hatteras kept his anxiety from the others, he was at heart very
anxious; he wanted to go northward, and he was obliged to retreat to
the south! Where would that bring him? Was he going as far back as
Victoria Harbor in the Gulf of Boothia, where Sir John Ross wintered
in 1833? Should he find Bellot Sound free at this time, and, by going
around North Somerset, could he ascend through Peel Sound? Or should
he, like his predecessors, be caught for many winters, and be obliged
to consume all his supplies and provisions?
These fears tormented him; but he had to decide; he put about and
started for the south.
Prince Regent's Channel is of nearly uniform width from Leopold's
Harbor to Adelaide Bay. The _Forward_ went rapidly through the ice,
with better fortune than many other ships, most of which required a
month to descend the channel, even in a better season; it is true that
none of these ships, except the _Fox_, had steam at their command, and
were obliged to do their best against frequent unfavorable winds.
The crew seemed overjoyed at leaving the northern regions; they had
but a slight desire to reach the Pole; they were alarmed at Hatteras's
plans, for his reputation as a fearless man inspired them with but
little confidence. Hatteras tried to make use of every opportunity to
go forward, whatever the consequences might be. And yet in these
parts, to advance is all very well, but one must also maintain his
position and not run the risk of losing it.
The _Forward_ went on under full steam; the black smoke whirled in
spirals about the sparkling summits of the icebergs; the weather was
changeable, turning from a dry cold to a snowstorm with inconceivable
rapidity. Since the brig drew but little water, Hatteras hugged the
west shore; he did not want to miss the entrance of Bellot Sound, for
the Gulf of Boothia has no other entrance towards the south than the
slightly known sound of the _Fury_ and the _Hecla_; hence the gulf
would be impassable, if Bellot Sound were missed or found
impracticable.
By evening the _Forward_ was in sight of Elwin Bay, which was
recognized by its high, steep cliffs; Tuesday morning Batty Bay was
seen, where, on the 10th of September, 1851, the _Prince Albert_
anchored for the winter. The doctor examined the coast with interest
through his glass. From this point started the expeditions which
determined the shape of North Somerset. The weather was clear enough
for them to see the deep ravines surrounding the bay.
The doctor and Johnson were probably the only ones who took any
interest in these deserted countries. Hatteras, always studying his
charts, talked little; his silence increased as the ship drew
southward; he often went upon the quarter-deck, and there he would
remain for hours, with folded arms, gazing absently at the horizon.
His orders, when he gave any, were short and quick. Shandon maintained
a cold silence, and drawing more and more into himself, he had nothing
more to do with Hatteras than was officially required; James Wall
remained devoted to Shandon, and modelled his conduct after that of
his friend. The rest of the crew waited for whatever might turn up,
ready to make the best use of it for their own profit. On board there
was none of the unanimity which is so necessary for the accomplishment
of great things. Hatteras knew this well.
During the day two whalers were seen making toward the south; a white
bear, too, was saluted with a few rifle-shots, but apparently without
success. The captain knew the worth of an hour at that time, and
refused permission to chase the animal.
[Illustration]
Wednesday morning the end of Regent Channel was passed; the angle of
the west coast was followed by a deep curve in the land. On examining
his chart, the doctor recognized Somerset-House Point, or Point Fury.
"There," he said to his usual companion,--"there is where the first
English ship was lost that was sent to these seas in 1815, in Parry's
third voyage; the _Fury_ was so much injured by the ice in her second
winter, that the crew were obliged to abandon her and to return to
England in her companion, the _Hecla_."
"A good reason for having another ship," answered Johnson; "that is a
precaution which polar explorers should not neglect; but Captain
Hatteras was not the man to burden himself with a companion!"
"Do you consider him rash, Johnson?" asked the doctor.
"I? O, I don't say anything of the sort, Dr. Clawbonny! But see those
piles there, with fragments of a tent hanging to them."
"Yes, Johnson, it is there Parry unloaded all his ship's supplies,
and, if my memory serves me right, the roof of the hut he built was
made out of a mainsail covered by the running-rigging of the _Fury_."
"That must have changed a good deal since 1825."
"Not so very much. In 1829, John Ross kept his crew safe and sound in
this light building. In 1851, when Prince Albert sent out an
expedition, this hut was still standing; Captain Kennedy repaired it
nine years ago. It would be interesting to visit it, but Hatteras is
unwilling to stop."
"And he is probably right, Dr. Clawbonny; if in England time is money,
here it is safety, and for the delay of a day, of an hour even, the
whole voyage might be rendered useless. We must let him do as he
pleases."
On Thursday, June 1st, the _Forward_ sailed diagonally across Creswell
Bay; from Point Fury the coast rises in steep rocks three hundred feet
high; towards the south, it is lower; a few snowy summits are to be
seen, of a regular shape, while others, more fantastic, were hidden in
the clouds.
During that day the weather grew milder, but cloudier; they lost sight
of land; the thermometer rose to 32 degrees; a few water-quail were to
be seen, and flocks of wild geese flew toward the north; the crew laid
aside some of their thick clothes; they began to be aware of the
approach of summer in the arctic regions.
Toward evening the _Forward_ doubled Cape Garry, a quarter of a mile
from the shore. The lead marked ten to twelve fathoms, and they bore
along the shore to Brentford Bay. In this latitude they were to find
Bellot Sound, a sound which entirely escaped the notice of Sir John
Ross in his expedition of 1828; his charts indicated an unbroken
coast-line, with the least irregularities indicated with the utmost
care; hence it is to be supposed that when he passed by the entrance
of the sound, it was completely closed with ice and so could not be
distinguished from the land.
This sound was really discovered by Captain Kennedy in an excursion
made in April, 1852; he named it after Lieutenant Bellot, as "a just
tribute," as he said, "to the important services rendered to our
expedition by the French officer."