THE GREAT COLD AT CHRISTMAS.
For a moment he had a feeling of despair. The thought of death, and
death by cold, appeared in all its horror; this last piece of coal
burned with an ominous splutter; the fire seemed about to go out, and
the temperature of the room fell noticeably. But Johnson went to get
some of the new fuel which the marine animals had furnished to them,
and with it he filled the stove; he added to it some tow filled with
frozen oil, and soon obtained sufficient heat. The odor was almost
unendurable; but how get rid of it? They had to get used to it.
Johnson agreed that his plan was defective, and that it would not be
considered a success in Liverpool.
"And yet," he added, "this unpleasant smell will, perhaps, produce
good results."
"What are they?" asked the carpenter.
"It will doubtless attract the bears this way, for they are fond of
the smell."
"Well," continued Bell, "what is the need of having bears?"
"Bell," replied Johnson, "we can't count on seals any longer; they're
gone away, and for a long time; if bears don't come in their place to
supply us with their share of fuel, I don't know what is to become of
us."
"True, Johnson, our fate is very uncertain; our position is a most
alarming one. And if this sort of fuel gives out, I don't see how--"
"There might be another--"
"Another?" asked Bell.
"Yes, Bell! in despair on account of--but the captain would never--but
yet we shall perhaps have to come to it."
And Johnson shook his head sadly, and fell to thinking gloomily. Bell
did not interrupt him. He knew that the supply of fat, which it had
been so hard to acquire, would only last a week, even with the
strictest economy.
The boatswain was right. A great many bears, attracted by the scent,
were seen to leeward of the _Forward_; the healthy men gave chase; but
these animals are very swift of foot, and crafty enough to escape most
stratagems; it was impossible to get near them, and the most skilful
gunners could not hit them.
The crew of the brig was in great danger of dying from the cold; it
could not withstand, for forty-eight hours, such a temperature as
would exist in the common-room. Every one looked forward with terror
to getting to the end of the fuel.
Now this happened December 20th, at three o'clock in the afternoon;
the fire went out; the sailors, grouped about the empty stove, gazed
at one another with haggard eyes. Hatteras remained without moving in
his corner; the doctor, as usual, paced up and down excitedly; he did
not know what was to be done.
The temperature in the room fell at once to -7 degrees.
But if the doctor was baffled and did not know what they should turn
their hands to, others knew very well. So Shandon, cold and resolute,
Pen, with wrath in his eyes, and two or three of his companions, such
as he could induce to accompany him, walked towards Hatteras.
"Captain!" said Shandon.
Hatteras, absorbed in his thoughts, did not hear him.
"Captain!" repeated Shandon, touching him with his hand.
Hatteras arose.
"Sir," he said.
"Captain, the fire is out."
"Well?" continued Hatteras.
"If you intend that we shall freeze to death," Shandon went on with
grim irony, "we should be glad if you would tell us."
"My intention," answered Hatteras with a deep voice, "is that every
man shall do his duty to the end."
"There's something superior to duty, Captain," answered his first
officer, "and that is the right of self-preservation. I repeat it, we
have no fire; and if this goes on, in two days not one of us will be
alive."
"I have no wood," answered Hatteras, gloomily.
"Well," shouted Pen, violently, "when the wood gives out, we must go
cut it where it grows!"
Hatteras grew pale with anger.
"Where is that?" he asked.
"On board," answered the sailor, insolently.
"On board!" repeated the captain, with clinched fists and sparkling
eyes.
"Of course," answered Pen, "when the ship can't carry the crew, the
ship ought to be burned."
At the beginning of this sentence Hatteras had grasped an axe; at its
end, this axe was raised above Pen's head.
[Illustration]
"Wretch!" he cried.
The doctor sprang in front of Pen, and thrust him back; the axe fell
on the floor, making a deep gash. Johnson, Bell, and Simpson gathered
around Hatteras, and seemed determined to support him. But plaintive,
grievous cries arose from the berths, transformed into death-beds.
"Fire, fire!" they cried, shivering beneath their now insufficient
covering.
Hatteras by a violent effort controlled himself, and after a few
moments of silence, he said calmly,--
"If we destroy the ship, how shall we get back to England?"
"Sir," answered Johnson, "perhaps we can without doing any material
damage burn the less important parts, the bulwarks, the nettings--"
"The small boats will be left," said Shandon; "and besides, why might
we not make a smaller vessel out of what is left of the old one?"
"Never!" answered Hatteras.
"But--" interposed many of the men, shouting together.
"We have a large quantity of spirits of wine," suggested Hatteras;
"burn all of that."
"All right; we'll take the spirits of wine!" answered Johnson,
assuming an air of confidence which he was far from feeling.
And with the aid of long wicks, dipped into this liquid of which the
pale flame licked the walls of the stove, he was able to raise the
temperature of the room a few degrees.
In the following days the wind came from the south again and the
thermometer rose; the snow, however, kept falling. Some of the men
were able to leave the ship for the driest hours of the day; but
ophthalmia and scurvy kept most of them on board; besides, neither
hunting nor fishing was possible.
But this was only a respite in the fearful severity of the cold, and
on the 25th, after a sudden change of wind, the frozen mercury
disappeared again in the bulb of the instrument; then they had to
consult the spirit-thermometer, which does not freeze even in the most
intense colds.
The doctor, to his great surprise, found it marking -66 degrees.
Seldom has man been called upon to endure so low a temperature.
The ice stretched in long, dark lines upon the floor; a dense mist
filled the room; the dampness fell in the form of thick snow; the men
could not see one another; their extremities grew cold and blue; their
heads felt as if they wore an iron band; and their thoughts grew
confused and dull, as if they were half delirious. A terrible symptom
was that their tongues refused to articulate a sound.
[Illustration]
From the day the men threatened to burn the ship, Hatteras would walk
for hours upon the deck, keeping watch. This wood was flesh and blood
to him. Cutting a piece from it would have been like cutting off a
limb. He was armed, and he kept constant guard, without minding the
cold, the snow, or the ice, which stiffened his clothing as if it
covered it with a granite cuirass. Duke understood him, and followed
him, barking and howling.
[Illustration: "He was armed, and he kept constant guard, without
minding the cold, the snow, or the ice."]
Nevertheless, December 25th he went down into the common-room. The
doctor, with all the energy he had left, went up to him and said,--
"Hatteras, we are going to die from want of fire!"
"Never!" said Hatteras, knowing very well what request he was
refusing.
"We must," continued the doctor, mildly.
"Never!" repeated Hatteras more firmly; "I shall never give my
consent! Whoever wishes, may disobey me."
Thus was permission given them. Johnson and Bell hastened to the deck.
Hatteras heard the wood of the brig crashing under the axe, and wept.
That was Christmas Day, the great family festival in England, one
specially devoted to the amusement of the children. What a painful
recollection was that of the happy children gathered about the green
Christmas tree! Every one recalled the huge pieces of roast meat, cut
from the fattened ox, and the tarts, the mince-pies, and other
luxuries so dear to the English heart! But here was nothing but
suffering, despair, and wretchedness, and for the Christmas log, these
pieces of a ship lost in the middle of the frigid zone!
Nevertheless, under the genial influence of the fire, the spirits and
strength of the men returned; the hot tea and coffee brought great and
immediate consolation, and hope is so firm a friend of man, that they
even began to hope for some luckier fate. It was thus that the year
1860 passed away, the early winter of which had so interfered with
Hatteras's plans.
Now it happened that this very New Year's Day was marked by an
unexpected discovery. It was a little milder than the previous days
had been; the doctor had resumed his studies; he was reading Sir
Edward Belcher's account of his expedition in the polar regions.
Suddenly, a passage which he had never noticed before filled him with
astonishment; he read it over again; doubt was no longer possible.
Sir Edward Belcher states that, having come to the end of Queen's
Channel, he found there many traces of the presence of men. He says:--
"There are remains of dwellings far superior to what can be attributed
to the savage habits of the wandering tribes of Esquimaux. The walls
are firmly placed on deep-dug foundations; the inside, covered with a
thick layer of gravel, has been paved. Skeletons of moose, reindeer,
and seals abound. We found coal there."
At these last words an idea occurred to the doctor; he took his book
and ran to tell Hatteras.
"Coal!" shouted the captain.
"Yes, Hatteras, coal; that is to say, our preservation!"
"Coal, on this lonely shore!" continued Hatteras; "no, that's
impossible!"
"How can you doubt it, Hatteras? Belcher would not have mentioned it
if he had not been sure, without having seen it with his own eyes."
"Well, what then, Doctor?"
"We are not a hundred miles from the place where Belcher saw this
coal! What is a journey of a hundred miles? Nothing. Longer
expeditions have often been made on the ice, and with the cold as
intense. Let us go after it, Captain!"
"We'll go!" said Hatteras, who had made up his mind quickly; and with
his active imagination he saw the chance of safety.
Johnson was informed of the plan, of which he approved highly; he told
his companions; some rejoiced, others heard of it with indifference.
"Coal on these shores!" said Wall from his sick-bed.
"We'll let them go," answered Shandon, mysteriously.
But before they had begun to make preparations for the trip, Hatteras
wanted to fix the position of the _Forward_ with the utmost
exactitude. The importance of this calculation it is easy to see. Once
away from the ship, it could not be found again without knowing its
position precisely.
So Hatteras went up on deck; he took observations at different moments
of several lunar distances, and the altitude of the principal stars.
He found, however, much difficulty in doing this, for when the
temperature was so low, the glass and the mirrors of the instrument
were covered with a crust of ice from Hatteras's breath; more than
once his eyelids were burned by touching the copper eye-pieces. Still,
he was able to get very exact bases for his calculations, and he
returned to the common-room to work them out. When he had finished, he
raised his head with stupefaction, took his chart, marked it, and
looked at the doctor.
"Well?" asked the latter.
"What was our latitude when we went into winter-quarters?"
"Our latitude was 78 degrees 15 minutes, and the longitude 95 degrees
35 minutes, exactly the pole of cold."
"Well," added Hatteras in a low voice, "our ice-field is drifting! We
are two degrees farther north and farther west,--at least three
hundred miles from your coal-supply!"
"And these poor men who know nothing about it!" cried the doctor.
"Not a word!" said Hatteras, raising his finger to his lips.