Arctic Adventures

We accordingly pushed on in the direction Sandy had taken, keeping at the same time a look out for the bear, examining the nature of the ice as we went along, to avoid another tumble through it. There had been a slight fall of snow which enabled us to follow in his track, which we fortunately discovered when at length reaching a hummock, we climbed to the top to look out and ascertain how far he had got from us.

“I see a black spot on the ice. It must be a man. Can anything have happened to the others?” exclaimed Ewen. “He is coming this way.”

We descended and ran on to meet him. It was one of the men who had been sent back, he said, to look for us, as the boatswain had become anxious at our non-appearance. When he saw Ewen’s condition, he advised that we should go back to the ship, as it might be dangerous for him to remain in his wet clothes. Ewen, however, insisted on going forward, declaring that as long as he was in exercise he did not feel the cold.

On crossing another hummock, we caught sight of Sandy with his companions. They were bending over a hole in the ice, Sandy with his harpoon prepared to strike at some object in the water. One of the men made a signal to us to keep back. We guessed at once that Sandy expected to find either a seal or a walrus rise to the surface, and was eagerly waiting to harpoon it. We accordingly halted to see what would happen. Presently Sandy stood up, holding his weapon ready to strike; then down it came, and he and his companions seized the end of the line and held fast. We rushed forward to their assistance, and arrived just in time to prevent their being drawn into the water-hole or having to let go the line. “Hold on, lads, hold on!” cried Sandy. “It’s a big bull walrus I suspect from the way the fellow tugs.” Taking a spear he advanced to the edge of the hole, when he plunged it into the body of an object invisible to us; he then sprang back, and in another instant a huge head and shoulders, with an enormous pair of tusks and flappers, appeared above the surface.

“Haul away, lads, haul away,” he shouted, putting his hand to the rope to give us his assistance, when out came, with a loud flop, a large walrus. The creature on seeing us endeavoured to work its way on, opening wide its jaws and threatening us with its tusks; but as it advanced we ran back, until Sandy, taking the third spear, sprang towards its side, into which he deeply buried the weapon, almost pinning the animal to the ice. It still struggled violently, and as we had no more spears I advanced towards it with my rifle, and shot it through the head, when it rolled over perfectly dead. It was a prize worth having. The difficulty would be to get it back to the ship. We rolled the body on the sleigh, to which we secured it.

We got on very well over the smooth ice, but when we arrived at a hummock we had to exert all our strength to get the carcase up to the top. We then let it roll down again to the opposite side. As we had a good many hummocks to pass, our progress was slow, and the day was waning when we caught sight of the ship. Sandy asked Ewen and me to go forward and obtain assistance. This we very gladly did, for all the party were pretty well worn out, and we felt that we could haul no longer.

I was also particularly anxious to get Ewen into his bed, as his underclothing was still wet. On our arrival the doctor took charge of him; and I volunteered to lead back four of the men, whom the Captain had directed to go and assist Sandy. There was no time to be lost. The sky had become overcast, and there was every appearance that we should have a heavy snow-storm. We little knew, however, what was coming. Tired as I was, I set off with the men to try to find Sandy. I felt pretty sure that I could steer a course to the spot where I had left him, from having taken the exact bearings of the ship. Though we had seen the ship in the distance, it was not so easy to distinguish three men surrounded by hummocky ice. In a short time after we had set out, the expected snow began to fall, and very heavily it came down. I was afraid that, although we might find Sandy, we should be unable to drag back the body of the walrus. This would be provoking after the exertions we had already made. I was truly thankful when we at length caught sight of our shipmates amid the falling snow. They gave a cheer as we approached. The ship was no longer to be seen, and they, not without reason, feared that they might have missed her; and they were indeed, when we found them, steering a course which would have carried them some way to the westward of her. It was a lesson to us in future not to go far from home, unless in the finest weather, without a compass. All hands immediately tackled on to the sledge, and we set off as fast as we could move. I went ahead trying to make out the ship, but the thickening gloom and the fast falling snow concealed her from sight. At last I thought of firing off my rifle. No reply came. I fired again and again.

At length I heard the report of a musket followed by the boom of a big gun. Both appeared much farther off than I expected, though I thought I could judge the direction from which they came. I waited until my companions approached and then led them on. I fired again and was replied to from the ship.

I was thankful when we got alongside and our prize was hoisted on deck. Coarse as was the meat it was eaten with as much gusto as if it had been some delicate luxury.

While we were in the act of stowing away the blubber, the ship began to move and the ice round us to heave. Every instant the motion increased, and the scene I have before described was enacted but in a more fearful degree. The ship groaned and strained, and the masts quivered as if about to fall. The masses of ice on the outer floe began to break up, and in a few seconds rushed over the more level parts, some remaining with their edges towards the sky, others falling with tremendous crashes and shivering into pieces. We could see some through the gloom rising high above our decks, and we knew at any moment that they might come toppling down upon us and crush the stout ship. Our sense of hearing, indeed, told us more clearly than our eyes what was taking place. The captain, in a calm voice, ordered the crew to make preparations for quitting the ship. The boats were swung out on the davits, so that they could be lowered in a moment, with sails, provisions, and tools ready to put into them, while the men brought up their bags and blankets, and put on their warm clothing. The doctor got his medicine chest ready; the armourer opened the magazine and divided the arms and ammunition. Sacks for sleeping in were added to the articles, and all stood waiting for the order we expected every moment to receive to quit the ship. We stamped about the decks in vain attempting to keep ourselves warm, for no fires had been lighted, lest the stoves being overturned might set the ship in flames.

All night long the fearful uproar continued, the ice pressing with greater and greater force against the sides of the ship. The carpenter was ordered to sound the well. He reported that the water was rushing in through unseen leaks.

Should the ship sink our fate would be sealed. Our hope was that she might be pressed up on the ice, and that the wreck might preserve us during the winter. At daylight the pressure ceased, but out hope of saving the ship was gone. On examination it was found that many of her stout ribs were broken and her planks forced in, while she herself was lifted several feet above the level of the ice. This made it probable that instead of sinking, should a further pressure ensue, she would be forced up altogether our of the water. We spent the rest of that anxious day in making further preparations for quitting the ship. Yet another night we remained on board, when in the middle watch we were aroused by the boatswain’s voice, summoning the men to leave the ship. The fearful commotion of the ice showed that there was no time to lose. The boats were lowered and dragged off towards the centre of the floe. Every man knew what he had to do and worked steadily, and the articles which had been prepared were placed near the boats. The crew worked like a party of ants toiling backwards and forwards, struggling on with loads on their backs, which under ordinary circumstances they could scarcely have attempted to carry. Our fear was that the masts might fall before our task was accomplished. Mercifully, time was given us. Nothing of absolute necessity remained, and we were engaged in setting up a couple of tents which might afford us shelter until we could erect ice houses.

As day broke we saw the masts of our ship swaying to and fro, while the huge hull, as if by some mighty force below, was lifted up, and then down they came, the foremast first, dragging the mainmast and mizen mast, and the vessel lay a forlorn wreck on the top of the ice.

“It is far better to have her so, than at the bottom of the sea, lads,” exclaimed Sandy, “so don’t let us despair; though she’ll not carry us home, she’ll give us stuff to build a house, and enough firewood to last us through the winter. We’re a precious deal better off than many poor fellows have been.”

Not allowing the men a moment to think of their misfortunes, the captain at once set them the task of building a house, partly from the planking of the ship, and partly with ice. It consisted of an inner chamber with two outer ones, and a long passage leading to it, and several doors, so that the outer could be closed before the inner were opened. We had a sky-light, made from a piece of double glass on the top, and a chimney to afford ventilation and to allow the smoke to escape. While the men were engaged in forming it, the captain, my brother, Ewen and I set off to reach the summit of a berg with our sextants and spy-glasses, hoping that from thence, while we took observations we might catch sight of the Greenland coast. We carried with us also a small flag and staff, which we might plant on the top should our expedition prove successful.

The labour of walking over the hummocky ice was great, for though at a distance it looked tolerably level, we had constantly to be climbing up and sliding down elevations of considerable height. As the days were getting short, we had little time to spare. We had to keep a look-out also for holes which exist often in thick ice, kept open by whales and other monsters of the deep which come up to breathe.

“I hope that we may fall in with bears,” said Ewen; “the chances are, some old fellow will scent us out.”

“I shall be very glad to see them,” answered the captain. “It would prove that the moveable floes are already connected with the land-ice, as bears very seldom swim across a broad channel; but I fear that this immense field on which we stand is still drifting northward, and that none will venture off to us.”

At last we got to the foot of the berg for which we were aiming, and commenced its ascent.

“Why it’s a mountain and not an iceberg!” cried Ewen. “I see rocks projecting out of it.”

The captain laughed.

“Those are mere stones sticking to it,” observed Andrew; “they were torn off when the berg was separated from the glacier of which it once formed a part. Vast rocks, far larger than those we see, were at one period of our globe’s history, carried over the surface to great distances, and deposited in spots where they are now found, while the marks produced by the bergs are still visible in many localities. If this berg were to be stranded on some distant shore, it would gradually melt leaving the rocks it carries behind it, which a geologist would perceive had no connection with any strata in the neighbourhood, and he would, therefore, at once justly conclude that the rocks had been brought to the spot by a berg.”

These remarks were made as we stopped to rest on our way up. We quickly, however, continued the ascent. Andrew, who carried the flag, was first to reach the top, and, waving it above his head, shouted “Land, land!” then, working away with an axe, he dug a hole in which he planted the staff.

We all soon joined him, when, descending a short distance, the captain surveyed the distant coast, now turning his glass horizontally, now up at the sky. I asked him what he was looking at.

“Curious as it may seem, I can see the shape of the mountains in the sky better than by directing my glass at them; besides which I observe a dark line which indicates a broad channel running between us and the land-ice. It shows that I am right in my conjectures, and that the field is still moving northward. It must come to a stop one day, and when it does we must be prepared for even more violent commotions than we have yet experienced.”

The captain calculated that the land we saw was nearly thirty miles off, and that the channel ran about midway between us and it.

It was a question whether we should attempt this long journey during the autumn, or wait for the return of spring, spending our winter in our houses on the ice. The point could only be decided when the field ceased to move. One thing was certain, it would be impossible to get the boats over the hummocky ice, and thus we must depend upon our feet to reach the shore, while we dragged our stores after us.

“We must wait no longer here, lads,” said the captain who had just finished his observation. “If we do we shall be benighted, and may have to spend a long night without shelter.”

We hurried down the berg and directed our course towards the ship, but whether or not we should reach her appeared doubtful.

Chapter Seven

It was evening when we got back to the encampment. On casting our eyes towards the ship, her appearance, as she lay overlapped with masses of ice on her beam ends, could not fail to produce a melancholy feeling.

“She’ll never float again!” exclaimed the captain with a sigh. “We must make the best of things, however, as they are.”

The men had progressed with the house. It was already habitable, though much more was to be done to enable us to bear the piercing cold of an arctic winter.

Next day was employed in getting everything out of the ship, which could be reached, likely to be useful, as she could no longer afford us a safe shelter. We began to cut away the bulwarks, the upper planks, and indeed all the wood we could get at, to serve for fuel as well as to strengthen the house. While thus employed, the fearful sounds from which we had for some time been free, again assailed our ears. There was a sudden movement of our floe, while all around us, and especially to the northward, we could see the ice heaving and tumbling, huge masses falling over, and floes rising one above another. Should our floe be subject to the same violent pressure, a slab might slide over it and sweep us to destruction. Even should some of the more active manage to climb to the top, our house and boats and stores must inevitably be lost, and those who might have escaped at first would, ere long, be frozen to death.

The hours we thus passed, not knowing at what moment the catastrophe might occur, were terrible in the extreme. To work was impossible. At length, however, the disturbance ceased. The intense cold quickly congealed the broken masses together, and we were able to turn in and sleep soundly.

The next day all was quiet. The captain was of opinion that we should move no further north, and that, should our floe become detached, we might expect to drift to the southward.

The captain’s observations showed that at present we were stationary, but it was still doubtful whether our floe was or was not united to the main body. The captain, Mr Patterson, my brother, the boatswain and I, had been discussing the subject one evening as we sat in the hut, and were afterwards talking of the Aurora Borealis when I agreed to go out and ascertain if any of peculiar brilliancy was visible.

On emerging from the hut, I gazed up at the sky. An Aurora was blazing brilliantly, forming an irregular arch, from which showers of rays of many colours spread in every direction. I was watching it with intense admiration, and was intending to go back and call my companions, when one of the dogs which had followed me gave a loud bark. It was answered by a growl. Looking over the ice I saw two enormous shaggy monsters, who, sniffing the air, advanced cautiously towards me. The brave dog dashed forward. In vain I called him to return.

Satisfied that our visitors were Polar bears which must have come from the main land, I hurried back, closing the door behind me to prevent them from entering. The captain, mate, and my brother seized their rifles, as I did mine, hoping to kill one or both of the intruders. As we opened the door, a loud cry uttered by a dog reached our ears. One of the bears had seized the animal and was carrying him off, satisfied with his prize. The other was creeping on towards the hut. Our bullets quickly settled him, and he rolled over. We then gave chase to the other who was carrying off the dog, but we were compelled to stop and reload, and by the time we had done this, so rapidly did the animal run that he was far beyond our reach, and all hope of rescuing our canine companion was over. We regretted the loss of the brave dog. It was a lesson to us not to let the others loose until we were ready to assist in attacking any similar visitors. The bear was quickly skinned and cut up. The skin would serve us for clothing, the fat for fuel, the meat for food. This visit of the bears showed us that the field of which our floe formed part must be attached to the land-ice. Our captain being anxious to visit the shore, intending, should a favourable spot be found, to form our winter quarters on it – we agreed to set out the next morning.

Much to our disappointment, when the time came, the captain was unable to go. He was very unwell, and my brother forbade him to take the journey. As he did not improve, Andrew was unable to leave him, and it was finally settled that the mate, Sandy, Ewen, Croil, another man, and I should form the party to proceed to the land. We had a small sledge which had been manufactured some time before. To this we attached our remaining dogs, and loaded it with stores of ammunition and provisions, including food for the dogs. Each of us carried also a small load as well as our rifles and long poles to assist our progress. Our companions cheered us as we set off, several accompanying us part of the way from the camp. We were by this time pretty well accustomed to travelling over the ice, but we had great difficulty in making our dogs, who had not been well trained, pull together, and the mate, losing patience, declared that he would rather drag the sledge himself, and that he wished the dogs back again.

“If he were to try it for half an hour he would change his tone,” observed Sandy to me; “the doggies will get along well enough in a few days.”

“In a few days!” I exclaimed, “I thought that we should get to the shore by nightfall.”

“Many a night will fall before we reach it,” answered Sandy. “If we could go in a straight line over smooth ice, at a jog trot, the case would be different. We shall have to make our way in and out among the bergs and hummocks, and maybe to take a long circumbendibus to avoid any waterholes in our course; we are very likely to fall in with some, solid as the ice appears hereabouts.”

I soon found that Sandy was perfectly correct in his prognostications. For the early part of the first day we got on well enough. We had our choice of climbing over numerous ridges from ten to twenty feet in height, or going round until we could find a passage between them. We had thus made less than three miles when the night closed in on us. We then put up our tent, lighted our lamp, and crept into our sleeping sacks. Though our quarters were rather close, we were more comfortable than I could have supposed possible. We had a long night, and with the first streaks of dawn, having breakfasted inside our tent on coffee boiled over the lamp, we again proceeded. Our dogs, I should have said, slept outside, and they formed a sufficient guard to give us notice should any bears approach.

The next day we made even less progress than on the first, though we met with no accident to hinder us. Sometimes we dragged the sledge over the hummocks, and sometimes we went round them, the dogs preferring the former method, as while we toiled they sat up on their tails watching our proceedings with infinite satisfaction.

The next night I was awakened by hearing a rustling sound, which I guessed was snow falling, but I soon dropped asleep again forgetting all about it. In the morning I saw that the sides of the tent were considerably pressed in, and on drawing aside the curtain which closed the front, a mass of snow fell inside. Looking out, what was our dismay to find that we were entirely surrounded. Travelling which was before difficult would now be doubly so. However, on further examination we found that, having chosen a sheltered spot under a hummock, the snow had drifted round us.

We easily, therefore, forced our way out, roused up the half-buried dogs, whose noses showed their whereabouts, and having taken our morning meal doubled up our tent and then trudged forward, Sandy leading. We followed in line, thus making a path for the dogs who without difficulty kept up with us. Before long we came to a berg from which extended north and south a line of hummocks. It seemed to bar further progress. To ascertain which course to pursue, we agreed to climb to the top of the berg, leaving Ewen and Croil to take charge of the sledge. The mate, Sandy, and I, at once commenced the ascent. It was no easy work, and we ran great risk of slipping down again and breaking our limbs. Still, by persevering, the top at length was gained. We could see the land very clearly to the westward, and between it and us the ice appeared far more level than any we had hitherto passed over. To the north it was utterly impracticable. To the southward we discovered a passage which we hoped to reach in the course of the day. The mate’s belief was that we were close upon the land-ice, and that by pushing on we could reach it by nightfall.

Having made these observations we prepared to descend, but we found that the chance of falling when doing so would be far greater than when ascending. It appeared, however, from where we stood, that there was a slope on the southern side where we might get down with comparative ease. There was, however, a projecting ledge which must be knocked away before we could reach the slope. We had brought ropes with us, and Sandy passing one round his waist, begged the mate and me to hold it at the other end while he advanced with his staff at the point of which he had secured a huge lump of ice. Using this us a sledge hammer, he began knocking away at the ledge, and after a few blows the whole mass giving way went thundering down the slope.

“It’s just as well to clear that off,” he observed, “or it might have come down on our heads.”

This was the more likely when he told us that he had observed a deep crack, which had induced him to make the attempt to knock the ledge away.

We now descended and rejoined Ewen and his companions, who had been greatly alarmed at seeing the mass of ice come rattling down, supposing that some accident had happened to us, while they had with difficulty restrained the dogs from galloping away from them.

We now directed our course southward, and were not disappointed in finding a passage through the hummocks, which enabled us to get on the smoother land-ice. We had, however, soon to camp. To render our tent warm, having cleared away the snow, we built a wall round it which sheltered us from the wind.

On the evening of the second day after this, we reached the shore, which rose bleak and barren before us. Yet it was a satisfaction to set our feet on firm ground. We landed in a small bay, the shore for a short distance shelving up to the foot of the cliffs, which – as they extended round to the east – would, we agreed, afford us shelter from the more bitter blasts of winter. The rocks were bare and rugged. Here and there a few lichens appeared, which to our eyes, long unaccustomed to anything of a green tint, seemed very pleasant.

“This will do!” cried the mate, “if our shipmates can reach this, we may pass the winter far better than we should have done on the open floe.”

As we had but a few more minutes of daylight, we hurriedly pitched our tent on a level spot close under the rocks, piling up the snow around it as before.