THE LAST PIECE OF COAL.
The bears, it seemed, could not be caught; a few seals were killed on
the 4th, 5th, and 6th of November, and the wind shifted and the
weather grew much milder; but the snow-drifts began again with
incomparable severity. It became impossible to leave the ship, and it
was hard to subdue the dampness. At the end of the week the condensers
contained several bushels of ice.
The weather changed again November 15th, and the thermometer, under
the influence of certain atmospheric conditions, sank to -24 degrees.
That was the lowest temperature they had yet observed. This cold would
have been endurable in calm weather; but the wind was blowing at that
time, and it seemed as if the air was filled with sharp needles.
The doctor regretted his captivity, for the snow was hardened by the
wind, so as to make good walking, and he might have gone very far from
the ship.
Still, it should be said that the slightest exercise in so low a
temperature is very exhausting. A man can perform hardly more than a
quarter of his usual work; iron utensils cannot be touched; if the
hand seizes them, it feels as if it were burned, and shreds of skin
cleave to the object which had been incautiously seized.
The crew, being confined to the ship, were obliged to walk on the
covered deck for two hours a day, where they had leave to smoke, which
was forbidden in the common-room.
There, when the fire got low, the ice used to cover the walls and the
intervals between the planks; every nail and bolt and piece of metal
was immediately covered with a film of ice.
The celerity of its formation astonished the doctor. The breath of the
men condensed in the air, and, changing from a fluid to a solid form,
it fell about them in the form of snow. A few feet from the stove it
was very cold, and the men stood grouped around the fire.
Still, the doctor advised them to harden themselves, and to accustom
themselves to the cold, which was not so severe as what yet awaited
them; he advised them to expose their skin gradually to this intense
temperature, and he himself set the example; but idleness or numbness
nailed most of them to their place; they refused to stir, and
preferred sleeping in that unhealthy heat.
Yet, according to the doctor, there was no danger in exposing one's
self to great cold after leaving a heated room; these sudden changes
only inconvenience those who are in a perspiration; the doctor quoted
examples in support of his opinion, but his lessons were for the most
part thrown away.
As for John Hatteras, he did not seem to mind the inclement cold. He
walked to and fro silently, never faster or slower. Did not the cold
affect his powerful frame? Did he possess to a very great degree the
principle of natural heat which he wanted his men to possess? Was he
so bound up in his meditations that he was indifferent to outside
impressions? His men saw him with great astonishment braving a
temperature of -24 degrees; he would leave the ship for hours, and
come back without appearing to suffer from the cold.
"He's a singular man," said the doctor to Johnson; "he astonishes me!
He carries a glowing furnace within him! He is one of the strongest
natures I ever saw!"
"The fact is," answered Johnson, "he goes and comes and circulates in
the open air, without dressing any more thickly than in the month of
June."
"O, it doesn't make much difference what one wears!" answered the
doctor; "what is the use of dressing warmly if one can't produce heat
within himself? It's like trying to heat ice by wrapping it up in
wool! But Hatteras doesn't need it; he's built that way, and I should
not be surprised if his side was as warm as the neighborhood of a
glowing coal."
Johnson, who was charged with clearing away the water-hole every
morning, noticed that the ice was ten feet thick.
Almost every night the doctor could observe the magnificent auroras;
from four o'clock till eight of the evening, the sky in the north was
slightly lighted up; then this took a regular shape, with a rim of
light yellow, the ends of which seemed to touch the field of ice.
Gradually the brilliancy arose in the heavens, following the magnetic
meridian, and appeared striped with black bands; jets of luminosity
shot with varying brightness here and there; when it reached the
zenith it was often composed of several arcs bathed in waves of red,
yellow, or green light. It was a dazzling sight. Soon the different
curves met in a single point, and formed crowns of celestial richness.
Finally the arcs all crowded together, the splendid aurora grew dim,
the intense colors faded away into pale, vague, uncertain tints, and
this wonderful phenomenon vanished gradually, insensibly, in the dark
clouds of the south.
[Illustration: "Almost every night the doctor could observe the
magnificent auroras."]
It is difficult to realize the wonderful, magical beauty of such a
spectacle in high latitudes, less than eight degrees from the pole;
the auroras which are seen in the temperate zone give no idea of it;
it seems as if Providence wished to reserve the greatest wonders for
these regions.
Numerous mock-moons appeared also while the moon was shining, and a
great many would appear in the sky, adding to the general brilliancy;
often, too, simple lunar halos surrounded the moon with a circle of
splendid lustre.
[Illustration]
November 26th the tide rose very high, and the water came through the
hole with great violence; the thick crust of ice seemed pushed up by
the force of the sea, and the frequent cracking of the ice proclaimed
the conflict that was going on beneath; fortunately the ship remained
firm in her bed, but her chains worked noisily; it was as a precaution
against just such an event, that Hatteras had made the brig fast.
The following days were still colder; a dense fog hid the sky; the
wind tossed the snow about; it was hard to determine whether it came
from the clouds or from the ice-fields; everything was in confusion.
The crew kept busy with various interior occupations, the principal
one being the preparation of the grease and oil from the seal; it was
frozen into blocks of ice, which had to be cut with a hatchet; it was
broken into small fragments, which were as hard as marble; ten barrels
full were collected. As may be seen, every vessel became nearly
useless, besides the risk of its breaking when the contents froze.
The 28th the thermometer fell to -32 degrees; there was only ten days'
coal on board, and every one awaited with horror the moment when it
should come to an end.
Hatteras, for the sake of economy, had the fire in the stove in the
after-room put out; and from that time Shandon, the doctor, and he
were compelled to betake themselves to the common-room of the crew.
Hatteras was hence brought into constant communication with his men,
who gazed at him with surly, dejected glances. He heard their
fault-finding, their reproaches, even their threats, without being
able to punish them. However, he seemed deaf to every remark. He never
went near the fire. He remained in a corner, with folded arms, without
saying a word.
[Illustration]
In spite of the doctor's recommendations, Pen and his friends refused
to take the slightest exercise; they passed whole days crouching about
the stove or under their bedclothes; hence their health began to
suffer; they could not react against the rigor of the climate, and
scurvy soon made its appearance on board.
The doctor had long since begun to distribute, every morning,
lemon-juice and lime pastilles; but these precautions, which were
generally so efficacious, did very little good to the sick; and the
disease, following its usual course, soon showed its most horrible
symptoms.
Terrible indeed it was to see those wretches with their nerves and
muscles contracted with pain! Their legs were fearfully swollen, and
were covered with large bluish-black patches; their bleeding gums,
their swollen lips, permitted them to utter only inarticulate sounds;
their blood was poisoned, deprived of fibrine, and no longer carried
life to the extremities.
Clifton was the first to be attacked by this cruel malady; soon
Gripper, Brunton, and Strong had to keep to their hammocks. Those whom
the illness spared could not avoid the sight of the sufferings of
their friends; the common-room was the only place where they could
stay; so it was soon transformed into a hospital, for of the eighteen
sailors of the _Forward_, thirteen were soon down with scurvy. It
seemed as if Pen would escape the contagion; his strong constitution
preserved him; Shandon felt the first symptoms, but it went no further
with him, and plenty of exercise soon restored him to good health.
The doctor tended his patients with the greatest devotion, and his
heart would bleed at the sight of the sufferings he could not assuage.
Still, he inspired as much cheerfulness as he could in the lonely
crew; his words, his consolations, his philosophical reflections, his
fortunate inventions, broke the monotony of those long days of
suffering; he would read aloud to them; his wonderful memory kept him
supplied with amusing anecdotes, while the men who were well stood
pressing closely around the stove; but the groans of the sick, their
complaints, and their cries of despair would continually interrupt
him, and, breaking off in the middle of a story, he would become the
devoted and attentive physician.
Besides, his health remained good; he did not grow thin; his
corpulence stood him in better stead than the thickest raiment, and he
used to say he was as well clad as a seal or a whale, who, thanks to
their thick layers of fat, easily support the rigors of the winter.
Hatteras did not suffer physically or morally. The sufferings of the
crew did not seem to depress him. Perhaps he would not let his
emotions appear on his face, while an acute observer would have
detected the heart of a man beneath this mask of iron.
The doctor analyzed him, studied him, and could not classify this
strange organization, this unnatural temperament.
The thermometer fell still lower; the deck was entirely deserted; the
Esquimaux dogs alone walked up and down it, barking dismally.
There was always a man on guard near the stove, who superintended
putting on the coal; it was important not to let it go out; when the
fire got low the cold crept into the room, formed on the walls, and
the moisture suddenly condensed and fell in the form of snow on the
unfortunate occupants of the brig.
It was among these terrible sufferings that they reached December 8th;
that morning the doctor went as usual to look at the thermometer. He
found the mercury entirely frozen in the bulb.
"Forty-four degrees below zero!" he said with terror.
And on that day the last piece of coal on board was thrown into the
stove.