North-Pole Voyages Part 18

LAST INCIDENTS OF THE EXPEDITION.

DR. HAYES and Knorr were buffeted by a fierce storm soon after starting.

They were over fifty miles from M'Donald and Jensen, only ten of which were traversed before they were obliged to encamp. But the storm howled, and tossed the snow-clouds about them, making it impossible to build a snow hut. After a brief halt, and feeding the dogs with the last morsel of food which remained, they pushed on. The snow was deep, often nearly burying the dogs as they plunged along; the hummocks and rocks over which they climbed lay across their path, and the wind blew with unabated fury; yet they halted not until the remaining forty or more miles were accomplished, and they tumbled into the hut of their companions. The dogs rolled themselves together on the snow the moment they were left, utterly exhausted. The weary men slept a long, sound sleep. When they awoke a steaming pot of coffee and an abundant breakfast awaited them. They had fasted thirty-four hours, and traveled in the last twenty-two over forty miles, which the hummocks and deep snow made equal to double that distance of smooth sledging. The last few miles were made in a state of partial bewilderment, so their final safety was another of their many marked deliverances. The remaining run to the vessel had its daily perils and escapes. As they were approaching the American sh.o.r.e they stepped across a crack on the ice. They had traveled but a short distance when they perceived that there was an impa.s.sable channel between them and the land ice. They ran back to recross the crack, and that had become twenty yards wide. They were, in fact, on an ice-raft, and were sweeping helplessly out to sea! They had hardly collected their thoughts after this terrifying surprise before one of the sh.o.r.e corners of their raft struck a small grounded iceberg, and on this, as on a pivot, the outer edge swung toward the sh.o.r.e, struck its margin, allowed them to scamper off, and then immediately swung again into the open water, and shot out to sea.

The poor dogs, being insufficiently fed, and necessarily overworked, now began to fail. Jensen's lameness compelling him to ride, increased their burden. One died just before the party left the hummocks, and two soon after. A fourth having failed, the commander, thinking to shorten his misery, shot him. The ball only wounding him, he set up a terrible cry, at which his companions flew at him, tore him in pieces, and, almost before his last howl had died away in the dreary waste, they had eaten the flesh from his bones.

They arrived at the schooner safely after two months' absence, during which they had traveled thirteen hundred miles.

The commander was cheered to learn that the party who returned under M'Cormick had reached Port Foulke in safety. The whole ship's company were in good health. The vessel was immediately thoroughly examined and put in sailing order. As the summer came on, the birds, the green mosses, hardy little flowers, several species of moths and spiders, and even a yellow winged b.u.t.terfly, appeared to greet its coming. The open water was daily coming nearer the schooner. While awaiting the loosening of its icy fetters, a boat's crew had an exciting walrus hunt. Dr. Hayes had been on a hill-top which overlooked the bay, when the hoa.r.s.e bellowing of distant walrus saluted his ears. Drifting ice-rafts were coming down the sound, on which great numbers of these monsters could be seen. He hurried to the vessel, and called for volunteers. Soon a whale-boat was manned, and the men, armed with three rifles and a harpoon and line, dragged it to the open water, launched it, and rowed into the midst of the drift-ice. The first cake of ice which they approached contained a freight of twenty-four walruses, pretty well covering it. The lubberly, ugly looking sea-hogs appeared as content as their very distant relatives of our sties, while they huddled together and twisted for the sunniest spot, and bellowed in one another's ears.

Our hunters were all eager for the fight as they approached with m.u.f.fled oars, but on coming near to the floe, it was apparent that the hunt was not to be all fun, nor the fighting on one side only. The hides of the monsters looked like an iron plating, and were, in fact, an inch thick, smooth, hairless, and tough, suggesting a good defensive ability; while their great tusks, projecting from a jaw of elephantine strength, hinted unpleasantly to the invaders that their antagonists were prepared for a.s.sault as well as defense. Very likely if one could have seen at that moment the countenances of our boat's crew, they would have shown more of a wish to be in the vessel's cabin than they would have cared to confess with their lips. But there was no flinching. There were two male walruses in the herd--huge, fierce-looking fellows, which roused up a moment to scan the strangers, and then, giving each other a punch in the face with their tusks, stretched out again upon the ice to sleep.

In this walrus party there were, besides the two fathers, mothers with children of various ages, from the "little ones" of four hundred pounds, to the "young folks." Of course they were a loving, happy group. The boat came within a few times its length of the ice-raft. Miller, an old whaleman, was in the bow of the boat with a harpoon. Hayes, Knorr, and Jensen stood in the stern with their rifles leveled each at his selected victim, while the oarsmen bent forward to their oars. At the word the rifles cracked, and the oarsmen at the same moment shot the boat into the midst of the startled walrus. Jensen hit one of the males in the neck, not probably doing him much harm; Hayes's ball struck the other bull in the head, at which he roared l.u.s.tily. Knorr killed a baby walrus dead, but he disappeared from the raft with the rest, probably pushed off by his mamma. When the old fellow which was wounded by the commander rolled into the water, Miller planted his harpoon in him with unerring skill, and the line attached spun out over the gunwale with fearful velocity. There were a few moments of suspense, and then up came the herd, a few yards from the boat, the wounded bull with the harpoon among them. They uttered one wild, united shriek, and answering shrieks from thousands of startled walruses, on the walrus laden ice-rafts for miles around, filled the air. It was an agonized cry for help, and the answering cry was, "we come!" There was a simultaneous splash from the ice-rafts, and the hosts, as if by the bugle call, came rushing on, heads erect, and uttering the defiant "huk, huk, huk!" They came directly at the boat, surrounding it, and blackening the waters with their numbers. The wounded bull, attached still to Miller's line, led the attack. The hunters had aroused foemen worthy of their steel, and they must now fight or die. It seemed to be the purpose of the walruses to get their tusks over the side of the boat, and so easily tear it to pieces or sink it, and then, having its audacious crew in the water, make short work of them. As they came on, Miller, in the bow, p.r.i.c.ked them in the face with his lance, the rowers pushed them back with their oars, while Hayes, Jensen, and Knorr sent, as fast as they could load and fire, rifle-b.a.l.l.s crashing through their heads. At one time a huge leader had come within a few feet of the boat. Hayes and Jensen had just fired, and were loading, but Knorr was just in time to salute him with a ball. The men were becoming weary, while the walrus a.s.saulting column was constantly supplied with fresh troops. The situation was now critical, when, as if to crush his enemy and end the conflict in victory on his side, a walrus Goliath, with tusks three feet long, led on a solid column of undismayed warriors. Two guns had just been fired, as before. His terrible weapons were fearfully near the gunwale, when Knorr's gun came to the rescue; its muzzle was so near his open mouth that the ball killed him instantly, and he sunk like lead. This sent consternation through the walrus ranks. They all dove at once, and when they came up they were a considerable distance off, their tails to their foes, and retreating with a wild shriek. The battle was ended, and the saucy explorers were victors. The sea in places was red with blood. The harpooned bull and one other were carried as trophies to the vessel.

On the twelfth of July the schooner floated, after an ice imprisonment of ten months. The Esquimo seeing that the white friends were about to leave them, gathered on the sh.o.r.e in sorrowful interest. They had been the receivers of gifts great in their estimation, and they had rendered the strangers no small favors, especially in the use of their dogs, without which no excursions of importance could have been made.

Kalutunah actually wept on parting with Dr. Hayes. He had enjoyed under his patronage the Esquimo paradise--"plenty to eat, plenty sleep, no work, no hunt." He spoke feelingly of the fading away of his people.

"Come back," he said, "and save us; come soon or we shall be all gone."

He had reason to express these fears concerning his people. Since Dr.

Kane left thirty-four had died, and there had been in the same time only nineteen births. There seemed to be in all the settlements, from Cape York to Etah, only a hundred!

The explorers bid adieu to Port Foulke on the fourteenth, and sailed away to the west side of Smith Sound, and reached a point about ten miles south of Cape Isabella. The hope was entertained by the commander that he might work his way with the vessel north through the now loosening ice over which he had just been traveling with sledges, get through even Kennedy Channel, to the open sea on the sh.o.r.e of which he had so lately stood, and then sail away to the North Pole. What a stimulating thought! But he found the schooner ice-battered, and, weakened by the "nips" she had experienced, was unequal to the required fight with the defiant pack which every-where filled the sound. So the explorers turned homeward. They arrived at Upernavik on the twelfth of August after many exciting incidents but no accident. Here they learned the startling news of the commencement of the great Rebellion. During their absence President Lincoln had been inaugurated, the black cloud of war had settled heavily over the whole country, and the b.l.o.o.d.y battle of Bull Run had been fought. They were now to return home and transfer their interest in fighting ice-packs, bergs, and Polar bears, to the conflicts of civil war.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV.

SOMETHING NEW.

WHILE the civilized world were awaiting with deep interest the results of the search for Sir John Franklin, and while learned geographers and practical navigators to the regions of cold were devising new methods of search for him, a young engraver was working out a problem in reference to this great enterprise peculiarly his own. Without special educational advantages, without the resources of wealth or influential friends, but with the inspiration of one feeling, "a divine call" to the undertaking, he matured his plans and began to publish them abroad. He seems to have at once imparted his own enthusiasm to others. The mayor of his own city, Cincinnati, the governor and senator of his own State, Ohio, the latter the eminent Salmon P. Chase, late Chief-Justice of the United States, became his patrons. Coming east, many of the great and wise men of our large cities gave him an attentive hearing, and not a few encouraged his project. The princely merchant, Henry Grinnell, who had already done so much in the Franklin search, took him at once into kindly sympathy.

From New York he went to New London. From the old whalemen, at least from individuals of them of marked character and large experience in Arctic navigation, he obtained encouraging words.

His plan of search which thus so readily commended itself was this: He would go into the region where it was now known that Franklin and some of his men had died; he would live with the Esquimo, learn their language, adopt their habits of life, and thus learn all that they knew of the history of the ill-fated expedition. He a.s.sumed that many of its men might yet be alive, and if they were, the natives would know it, know where they were, and could guide him to them.

To prepare himself for this work he became conversant with Arctic literature, learning all that the books on the subject taught; he applied himself closely to the study of the practical science bearing on his enterprise, learning the use of its instruments. He sought interviews and correspondence with returned explorers and whalemen. In fact, his heart was in the work with a downright enthusiasm.

The marked features of his plan seemed to be two--it was inexpensive and new. As to the manning of his expedition, he proposed to go alone; as to vessels, he asked none. He only asked to be conveyed to the proposed Esquimo country, and to be left with its natives. We might name a third attractive feature of this plan, one which always inspires interest--it was bold, bordering on the audacious!

We need hardly say to our readers that the name of this new candidate for Arctic perils and honors was Charles Francis Hall--a name now greatly honored and lamented.[A]

Mr. Hall was born in Rochester, New Hampshire, in 1821, where he worked a while at the blacksmith's trade, but left both the trade and his native place in early life for the Queen City of the West. The result of Mr. Hall's enthusiastic appeals was an offer by the firm of Williams & Haven, whale-ship owners of New London, to convey him and his outfit in their bark "George Henry" to his point of operations, and if ever desired, to give him the same free pa.s.sage home in any of their ships.

The "George Henry" was going, of course, after whales, and proposed thus to convey him as an obliging incident of the trip.

This proposal was made in the early spring of 1860. On the twenty-ninth of May he sailed. His outfit was simple, and had the appearance of a private, romantic excursion. It consisted of a good sized, staunch whale-boat built for his special use, a sledge, a few scientific instruments, a rifle, six double-barreled shot-guns, a Colt's revolver, and the ammunition supposed to be necessary for a long separation from the source of supply. A start was given him in a small store of provisions; beyond that he was to supply himself. A tolerable supply of trinkets were added as a basis of trade with the natives. What funds this miniature exploring expedition required was given largely by Mr.

Grinnell.

The "George Henry" was accompanied by _a tender_, a small schooner named the "Rescue," having already an Arctic fame. The officers and crew of both vessels numbered twenty-nine, under command of Captain S. O.

Buddington.

We have spoken of Mr. Hall as the only man of his exhibition; he had after all one companion. The previous year Captain Buddington had brought home an Esquimo by the name of Kudlago, who was now returning to his fatherland and to his wife and children. Upon him Mr. Hall largely depended as an interpreter, a friend, and guide, in his work.

The run of the "George Henry" to the Greenland coast was made with but one marked incident. That was to Mr. Hall a very sad one, giving him the first emphatic lesson in the uncertainty of his most carefully devised schemes. It was the death and burial at sea of Kudlago. He had left New London in good health, taken cold in the fogs of Newfoundland, and declined rapidly. He prayed fervently to be permitted to see his wife and children--only that, and he would die content. He inquired daily while confined to his berth if any ice was in sight. His last words were, "_Teiko seko? teiko seko?_"--Do you see ice? do you see ice? The Greenland sh.o.r.e was just in sight when he departed, and his home and family were three hundred miles away.

The "George Henry" and her tender, the "Rescue," sailed north, along the Greenland coast, as far as Holsteinberg, where Mr. Hall purchased six Esquimo dogs. The vessel then stood southwest across Davis Strait and made, August eighth, a snug harbor, which Mr. Hall called Grinnell Bay, a little north of what is known as Frobisher Strait. Here Mr. Hall was to land and commence his Esquimo life, alone and far away from a Christian home, while the vessel went about its business capturing whales. His feelings on the voyage are indicated by the following extract from his diary:

"A good run with a fair breeze yesterday. Approaching the north axis of the earth! Aye, nearing the goal of my fondest wishes. Every thing relating to the arctic zone is deeply interesting to me. I love the snows, the ices, the icebergs, the fauna and the flora of the North. I love the circling sun, the long day, _the arctic night, when the soul can commune with G.o.d in silent and reverential awe_! I am on a mission of love. I feel to be in the performance of a duty I owe to mankind, myself, and G.o.d! Thus feeling I am strong at heart, full of faith, ready to do or die in the cause I have espoused." How he felt when actually engaged in his "mission of love," we shall see.

We must not, however, think of Mr. Hall in a region comparable to that which included the winter-quarters of Kane and Hayes in the expeditions we have just described. They were at least twelve degrees farther north, Mr. Hall being south of the arctic circle, so that his winter nights were shorter and milder. His present field of operation was on a coast visited by the whale-ships, and where they at times wintered. Besides, natives had been for many years in contact with white men, and were in _some_ respect more agreeable companions. He will therefore, as we follow him, lead us into new scenes of peculiar interest, and show us novel features in the character of the Esquimo.

The whale-ship "Black Eagle," Captain Allen, lay in Grinnell Bay on the arrival of our voyagers, and the captain soon appeared on the deck of the "George Henry," with several Esquimo. One of these natives, named Ugarng, especially attracted Mr. Hall's attention. He was intelligent, possessing strong lines of character, and a marked physical development.

He had spent a year on a visit to the United States. Speaking of New York, he said with a sailor's emphasis: "No good! too much horse! too much house! too much white people! Women? Ah! women great many--good!"

Ugarng will become a familiar acquaintance.

Mr. Hall had been giving special attention on the voyage across Davis Strait to his dogs, and they were now to become a chief dependence. He fed them on _capelin_, or dried fish. One day he called them all around him, each in his a.s.signed place, to receive in turn his fish. Now there was one young, shrewd dog, Barbekark, who had not heard, or had never cared to heed the proverb that "honesty is the best policy." He said to himself, "If I can get _two_ of the fish while the other dogs get but one, it will be a nice thing to do;" so, taking his place near the head of the row, he was served with his capelin. Then, slipping out, he crowded between the dogs farther down, and with a very innocent look awaited his turn. His master thought this so sharp in young Barbekark that he pretended not to see the trick, and dealed him a fish as if he had received none. On going the round again his master found him near the head of the row and then at the foot, so the rogue obtained Benjamin's portion. Seeing his success, he winked his knowing eye as much as to say, "Ain't I the smartest dog in the pack!" But Barbekark had entered on a rough road with many turns, as all rogues do. After going round several times, during which the trick was a success, Mr.

Hall _skipped_ the trickster altogether. It mattered not what place he crowded into, there was no more fish for him. The upshot was that he received many less than did his companions. Never did a dog look more ashamed. From that time he kept his place when fish were distributed.

Mr. Hall, making the vessel his home, made frequent visits ash.o.r.e, and received many Esquimo visitors on board, and was thus becoming acquainted with the people. An early visitor was Kokerjabin, wife of Kudlago, accompanied by her son. She had learned in her tent that her anxiously awaited husband had been left in the deep sea. She entered the cabin and looked at her husband's white friends, and at the chest which contained his personal goods, with deep emotion; but when Captain Buddington opened the chest, the tears flowed freely; and when she, in taking out things, came to those Kudlago had obtained in the States for herself and her little girl, she sat down, buried her face in her hands, and wept with deep grief. She soon after went ash.o.r.e with her son to weep alone.

Another very marked character was Paulooyer, or, as the white men called him, Blind George. He was now about forty years of age and had been blind nearly ten years, from the effects of a severe sickness. To this blindness was added domestic sorrow. His wife Nikujar was very kind to him for five years after his loss of sight, sharing their consequent poverty. But Ugarng, who had already several wives, offered her a place in his tent as his "household wife"--the place of honor in Esquimo esteem. The offer was tempting, for Ugarng was "a mighty hunter," and rich at all times in blubber, in furs and skin tents and snow huts. So she left poor George, taking with her their little daughter, called Kookooyer. This child became a pet with Ugarng, as she was with her blind father.

FOOTNOTE:

[A] See Frontispiece.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

A FEARFUL STORM.

WHILE the "George Henry" lay at Grinnell Bay, Mr. Hall talked much with the masters of the whale-ships and with the most intelligent of the natives concerning his proposed journey to King William's Land. This was a far-away region, where the remains of the Franklin expedition had been found. He proposed to secure the company of one or more Esquimo and make an attempt to reach it with a dog-sledge, and to take up his abode with its natives in search of information of the lost ones. But both his white and Esquimo advisers agreed that it was too late in the season to begin such a journey. Mr. Hall would then take the whale-boat built for him, man it with natives, and make the attempt by water. But this was deemed impracticable until spring. So he decided to make his home on board the vessel so long as she remained on the coast, and pursue his study of the Esquimo language and his survey of the region of country, with this home as a base of operations.

On his return from one of his inland excursions with Kudlago's son, whom the whites called _captain_, he saw his widow, apart from all the people, weeping for her great bereavement. Her son ran to her and tried to comfort her, but she would not be comforted. When Mr. Hall approached she pointed to the spot where their tent was pitched when Kudlago left for the United States. She also showed him the bones of a whale which he had a.s.sisted in capturing.

Soon after this the widow visited the vessel with her daughter, Kimmiloo, who had been the idol of her father. She looked sad on the mention of her father's name, but, child-like, her eyes gleamed with joy on seeing the fine things his chest contained for her. Captain B.'s wife had sent her a pretty red dress, necktie, mittens, belt, and other like valuables of little white girls. But Mr. Hall suggested that Kimmiloo's introduction to the dress of civilization should be preceded by soap and water. The process of arriving at the little girl through layers of dirt was very slow. When this was done, her kind friend Hall took a _very coa.r.s.e_ comb, and commenced combing her hair. This had never been done before, and of course the comb "pulled" in spite of the care of the operator, but Kimmiloo bore it bravely. Her locks were filled with moss, greasy bits of seal, and disgusting reindeer hairs, besides other things both _active_ and numerous. A full hour was spent on the hair, but when the comb went through it easily, then the little girl run her fingers into it and braided quickly a tag on each side of her head; she then drew these through bra.s.s rings which Mr. Hall had given her. Her Esquimo fur trowsers and coat were thrown off, and the now clean and really beautiful girl put on the red dress. Her happiness would have been complete had her father been there to share her joy.

Mr. Hall's kindly nature led him to study the natives in these incidents, and to record them in his journals. Ugarng was one time in the cabin when Mr. Hall had put a few small b.a.l.l.s of mercury on a sheet of white paper. It was a new article to the Esquimo, and he tried to pick it up with his thumb and finger, but it escaped his grasp. His efforts would scatter it over the sheet in small globules, and then as he lifted the corners of the paper it would run together, and Ugarng would commence catching it with new vigor. He continued his efforts for a full half hour. Amused at first, but finally losing his temper, he gave it up, exclaiming petulantly that there was an evil spirit in it.

Blind George became a constant visitor. At one time Mr. Hall gave him a much worn coat, showing one of the several holes in it. George immediately took a needle, and, bringing his tongue to the aid of his hands, threaded it, and mended _all_ of the rents very neatly. At another time Mr. Hall put into George's hand a piece of steel with a magnet attached. The way the steel flew from his hand to the magnet amazed him. At first he seemed to think it was not really so; but when he clearly felt the steel leap from his fingers, he threw both steel and magnet violently upon the floor. But feeling he was not hurt, and that some little girls laughed at him, he tried it again more deliberately, and was better satisfied. Mr. Hall next gave him a paper of needles, desiring him to bring the magnet near them. He did so, and when the needles flew from his hand by the attraction he sprung to his feet as if an electric current had touched him, and the needles were scattered in every direction over the floor. He declared that Mr. Hall was an "Angekok."

On the fourteenth of August another whaling vessel belonging to the owners of the "George Henry" arrived at Grinnell Bay. Her name was the "Georgiana," Captain Tyson; so there were now four vessels near each other--the "Rescue" and "Black Eagle," besides those just named. There were social, merry times. But Captain Buddington, having built a hut here that some of his men might remain to fish, took his vessels farther south, for winter-quarters, into a bay separated from Frobisher Bay on the south by only a narrow strip of land. This Mr. Hall named Field Bay.

Here, snugly hid in an inlet of its upper waters, the vessels proposed to winter. The Esquimo were not long in finding the new anchorage of the whites, and in a few days a fleet of kayaks containing seven families appeared. Among them was Kudlago's oldest daughter, now married to a native the sailors called Johnny Bull. She had not heard of her father's death, and stepped on deck elated at the thought of meeting him. "Where is my father?" she inquired of Ugarng's wife. When she was tenderly told the sad story of his death she wept freely.

Mr. Hall was at once busy visiting the "tupics," summer tents made of skins, pitched by the natives near the sh.o.r.e. He also rowed to the islands in various directions, generally accompanied by one or more Esquimo. On one of these visits to an island with a boy he had a narrow escape. After several hours' ramble they returned to the landing, where they had left their boat fastened to a rock. The tide had risen and the boat was dancing on the waves out of reach. Here was a "fix!" They were far away from the vessel, the night, cold and dark, was coming on, and they were without shelter. But necessity sharpens one's wits, After some delay and perplexity, Mr. Hall hit upon this plan: He took the seal-skin strings from his boots, and the strings by which various scientific instruments were attached to his person, tied them together, and thus made quite a long and strong line. To this he tied a moderate sized stone. Holding one end of the line in his hand, he tossed the stone into the boat and gently drew it to him, jumped into it, and was soon at the vessel. If Mr. Hall had not been a _green_ boatman he would not have fastened his boat below high-water mark when the tide was coming in! He probably did not again.