Voyage to the Center of the Earth

by Jacques Collin de Plancy

  In sum, we found ourselves alone, numbering seven, in the northern Glacial Sea. Our provisions were very slender; we had no more water, and the cold was not making us any less thirsty. A little eau-de-vie and wine, salted meat, biscuit and cheese comprised all our aliments. The sun was declining as we advanced toward autumn and toward the north. Spitzbergen, our bleak hope, did not appear. We did not see the larger dinghy again, and bears showed themselves from time to time a short distance away.

  The Manseau was with us. His sadness and despair depressed us, while exciting our pity. He became wan and morose. “Alas,” he kept saying, “our poor comrades are fortunate. They’ve been devoured by the bears, but at least they’re no longer suffering—but when will our torment end?”

  By force of reasoning, Clairancy succeeded in rendering him a little courage. He repeated to him over and over that it was no longer a time for despair; that when hope is extinguished, the soul ought to deploy all its strength; that it was unworthy of a man to allow himself to die a thousand times for fear of dying once. Finally, he made him see so clearly that we might still survive that the Manseau recovered a little strength of mind, and ended up accustoming himself, at least as well as us, to the present situation.

  I have often noticed those sudden conversions in the French, which one dares not expect in other peoples. That easily-manipulable spirit has caused them to be accused of frivolity and inconsequence, but it would be more just, I think, to attribute that mobility of character to a lively mind, which feels strongly and receives all impressions good or bad. It sometimes serves fortunately to drive them to great deeds; often, they are abused by seduction, but in general, a soul easy to excite, like that of the French, is more valuable to society than the stubbornness of their northern neighbors or the dissimulation of those to the south. Whereas, for the social body and for the government of states, a firm, obstinate, unbreakable soul—an English soul, in sum—is better equipped to forestall great misfortunes.

  III. Adventures with white bears. Arrival in Spitzbergen.

  Three days after the disastrous incident of the launch, Clairancy thought he perceived Spitzbergen a short distance away. Like him, we distinguished a white and uncultivated land, and the aspect of that sterile desert moderated the joy that the approach of its coat inspired in us. We directed all our efforts toward it, always with the greatest precaution, in order not to be capsized amid the ice.

  While our gazes were fixed uniquely on the land, the heavy tread of an animal depressing the ice-floes caused us to turn our heads, and we saw on top of a floating rock, almost above us, a large thin and fleshless bear that was about to pounce upon the dinghy. Edward was holding a halberd, which he rapidly plunged into the gaping maw of the bear, where it broke. The furious animal advanced upon us, launching itself upon the man who had struck it. We wounded it with a few bullets, which forced it to take flight, but it soon returned to the attack, followed by another bear at least as big and as thin.

  On seeing it reappear, Clairancy picked up the cable that served to moor our small boat, and told us that he was going to capture the bear. Indeed, while we repelled the two animals with ax-blows, the intrepid Clairancy passed a kind of noose around the neck of the wounded bear. The cable was firmly attached to one of the ends of the dinghy, and we were already rejoicing in having mastered our enemy—but we had reckoned without its strength. As soon as it sensed itself bound, it drew away in order to detach itself from the cable, and it was still so robust that it dragged our dinghy on to the ice-floe.

  A universal shiver gripped us, on seeing one of the extremities of our vessel about to dip into the sea. We would have been submerged if an English fisherman of our company had not hastened to cut the cable with a stroke of his ax. At the same time, another fired his musket at the bear’s head, which fell backwards. Its fall caused its comrade to flee.

  We immediately set about putting the dinghy to sea again—after which, Edward wanted to climb on to the floe to visit the body of the dead bear, to see whether we might be able to obtain some profit from it. We were utterly astonished, however, no longer to see it. The thought that perhaps it had only been wounded, and had beaten a retreat, caused us to look around. A hundred brasses away, on a large icy island, we perceived the second bear, which was placidly drawing away, carrying its companion’s cadaver.

  What had just happened to our dinghy had given us such a clear idea of the strength of the white bears that we were not surprised to see that one carrying such an enormous burden in its jaws. When it was in the middle of the icy island it stopped, and started devouring the dead bear.

  It is well-known that the hide of those animals is very warm; we were not unaware that their flesh is good to eat, and as we had only had salted meat for a long time, we had no less a desire to share the bear’s meal than to take possession of the dead one’s skin. That is why one of the fishermen proposed to Edward that they attack the living bear and snatch away its prey.

  The decision was soon made; the two brave fellows leapt on to an ice-floe and steered it like a raft, with the aid of the shaft of a halberd, as far as the island where the second bear was having its dinner. They set foot on the ice and saluted it with two rifle-shots. The bear, wounded in the belly and the head, turned to face its aggressors, and charged them as quickly as it could.

  Edward landed a powerful blow of his ax upon its head; the animal recoiled, but when our courageous companion leapt forward to strike again, the bear threw itself upon him and knocked him down. The other fisherman, trying to help his comrade, was knocked down in his turn. That performance was repeated several times. The enormous beast knocked the two fishermen down with so much agility and strength that we thought they would be killed at any moment—but we had approached the battlefield rapidly. I leapt on to the island; Clairancy followed me, and we fell upon the bear with such a will that it was finally struck down.

  Clairancy immediately went to the remains of the first bear; it was already half-eaten and it had been dead scarcely an hour. We judged it appropriate to leave it where it was, since we had another that was entire. Even though there were four of us, however, it was impossible for us to drag it to the dinghy until it had been butchered.

  Its skin was eight feet long and ten broad; we laid it out in the bottom of the dinghy, where it made a kind of mattress for us. Its flesh was rather good; at least we found it so, in our situation, and we would have had an excellent meal if we had had a few pints of water. We lived on it for several days, and the fresh meat at least spared the food-supplies that we had

  Meanwhile, the supposed land that Clairancy had taken for Spitzbergen finally became recognizable. Alas, it was only firm ice, and it was necessary to traverse it for several leagues in order to arrive at the coast. Moreover, we could not find any opening into which we could guide our little boat. It was therefore necessary to decide to drag our food and our meager provisions of powder over the ice and come back afterwards to look for the dinghy, whose planks might serve for us to construct a cabin.

  As soon as our resolution was made, Clairancy made a solid enough sled with our oars and ropes. A small barrel of salted meat was placed upon it, with two large boxes of biscuit, two kegs of powder, the single cask of wine that remained to us and half a cask of eau-de-vie. The rest of the provisions were wrapped in the bearskin and attached behind the sled. We harnessed ourselves to it, so to speak, and it was dragged with a determined will all the way to the coast. It was so steep that we were obliged to make several trips to deposit all our riches thereon.

  After that, although we were in a most parlous state, we dropped to our knees in order to thank Heaven for the favor of sorts that it had granted us in permitting us to reach land.

  “Let’s go back to the boat now,” said Edward, afterwards. “Then, without losing any time, we’ll see about the means of constructing a shelter for ourselves. But one of us ought to remain with the provisions, because the bears might catch wind of them.”

  The gu
ard of our food supplies was unanimously proposed for the Manseau, Martinet, who, being less robust than us, could no longer be much use to us. But the poor young fellow had become a little less cowardly, without having gained the courage that cannot be gained. Our double victory over the bears had given him more confidence, but had not consolidated his hope of salvation, and he confessed frankly that if he had escaped the white bears, it was to the intrepidity of his brave companions that be owed it. He therefore begged us to take him with us.

  “If you leave me here,” he told us, “someone will be needed to protect me while I protect the provisions; otherwise, you’d only have to go astray, no longer able to find the way, and I’d be left alone. I want to share your perils and die with you.”

  We yielded to this reasoning and I was designated to remain in the Manseau’s stead, with a good ax and two loaded carbines. Then, after having eaten a little bear meat and some biscuit together, my six companions returned to the little boat.

  The coast on which we had disembarked was absolutely sterile. Not a single tree, not one plant, not the slightest indication of vegetation. Bare ground, a pure enough sky, rocks crowned with ice and snow: that was all that our gaze encountered. I did not see any animal appear, and did not receive any visit during the entire time my companions were absent.

  They finally rejoined me after six long hours of separation. It had been impossible for them to haul the dinghy out of the water; they had broken it up with axes and brought the debris up on to the shore. I had waited for them with inexpressible impatience; I saw them again with as much joy as if I had believed them lost forever when they left.

  “Now we have no means of getting away of here,” Edward said to us, sadly, “let’s try to procure some comfort, while waiting for providence to get us out of it. I very much fear that we’ll have to spend the winter here. Like many others, we’ll do the best we can, but let’s go in search of terrain less icy than this, and build a cabin as quickly as possible, because the sun’s going down. In the meantime, I saw a kind of bay two hundred paces away that we hadn’t noticed, which is covered with tree-trunks and pieces of wood that the sea has washed up on its beach; go get some, make a good fire, and rest, while I go exploring.”

  My comrades needed rest; they did as the indefatigable Edward advised. As for me, I was so weary of the inaction in which they had left me, and I would have found it so difficult to see one of our companions drawing away from us on his own, that I wanted to share Edward’s travails. We set forth, therefore, carrying the good wishes and hopes of the little company.

  IV. Discovery of a cabin. A spring of fresh water.

  The white bear.

  After having walked for an hour without discovering anything, I perceived an old building ten paces from a rock, which made me shiver. I pointed it out to Edward.

  “God be praised!” he exclaimed. “This find will save us a great deal of trouble. It’s doubtless the remains of a cabin that unfortunates like us built on this island in order to spend the winter here. So we’ll only have the trouble of repairing it, without being obliged to construct one, and with courage, we’ll be lodged in three days.

  A moment later we went into the building. The walls were covered with icicles and the roof was pierced in several places, but overall it still seemed solid. The fireplace, which was in good condition, gave us a thrill of pleasure. A ledger placed on top of a chest informed us that the cabin had been built two years before our arrival on Spitzbergen by Dutch sailors who had stayed in it for ten months. We scanned through the journal that they had taken the precaution of leaving in their shelter; it gave us several useful items of information regarding the measures we had to take in order to subsist in that bleak country, and to avoid the accidents that had carried away several of them.

  The habitation consisted of two large rooms devoid of windows. There was only one door, which seemed to us to be very solid. The walls were composed of wood and earth, skillfully bound together and supported on two sides by long planks securely nailed to two enormous piles. All that work, which must have been so difficult, and which we found ready-made for us, so to speak, raised our courage again. Only the roof, formed of old sails, was in need of repair, and we had enough planks to block all the holes.

  We returned, therefore, to our companions with transports of joy no less ardent than if we had made the conquest of a new world.

  As soon as he saw us in the distance, the Manseau ran toward us. “Good news!” he shouted. “We’ve killed a reindeer. I say we, because I loaded the rifles, but the fact is that there was an animal to kill, and we were waiting for you to eat your share.”

  As he finished speaking, the others came toward us and asked us about the fruits of our expedition.

  “Let’s embrace one another, my friends,” Edward exclaimed, “We’re the sovereigns of Spitzbergen; a ready-built abode waits us a few miles away.”

  Our companions uttered cries of joy on hearing the details of the little excursion we had just made; embraces succeeded the exclamations, and joy the embraces.

  A large fire had been built during our absence. Its heat brought a kind of sensuality to all our senses. We formed a circle around the flames. Then I made a second list of everything that we had found, and all the faces expanded into smiles again, with the animated expression that the sight of rich treasures gives a miser.

  In his turn, Clairancy told us how a reindeer had appeared some distance away, how they had pursued it, killed it and skinned it, and how we were going to make a good feast of it in order to take possession of the island cheerfully. Indeed, a haunch of venison was visibly roasting, suspended on three interlaced halberds. As soon as it was cooked, we attacked it, and it was devoured with the heartiest appetite.

  Then we broke camp, loaded all the provisions on the sled again, harnessed ourselves to it as before, and the little troop headed for the fortress order to install ourselves there. As soon as we perceived it, everyone saluted its hospitable roof, and all of us, with heads bared, appealed for the blessings of the Eternal upon the brave men who had built the cabin, and who had had the humanity to leave the fruits of their experience there in their journal.

  “So now we have shelter,” we said as we went in.

  “And we’re at home here,” added Edward, cheerfully.

  Then we inspected every corner of the cabin. Clairancy, who knew Dutch better than me, leafed through our forebears’ journal, and explained to us everything that was of immediate interest to us. There were exclamations at every page that I cannot describe—but how could I possibly express the delight that took possession of us all when the worthy Frenchman, almost weeping with pleasure, read the passage I am about to report? Only know, if I have not already said it, that for nearly a month we had no longer had any water, and were feeling the approach of scurvy; imagine our enthusiasm when we heard these words, sweeter than honey:

  “Fifty paces from the hut, behind the rock, we have found a spring of fresh water. A small cross will be perceived above it, which we planted in gratitude.”

  No one could master himself sufficiently to hear any more. We ran out of the cabin like children emerging from school, to see who would arrive first at the delicious spring of fresh water. Everyone slaked his thirst at his ease, and even the moat reasonable swallowed such a great abundance of water that I am astonished that none of us was ill. After having drunk deep, the entire troop, kneeling before the cross, raised our hands to Heaven without uttering a single word, and did not withdraw without drinking a second time, with as much pleasure as the first.

  Then, in a kind of intoxication, we returned to the cabin without worrying any more about the future and the contents of our destiny. The most agile among us climbed up on to the roof of our palace, while the others prepared the planks; everyone set to work, and the repairs to our little castle were completed in a few days.

  The journal of the Dutch sailors informed us that there was a broad opening in the ice a little way along the sho
re, where the sea continually accumulated a large number of tree trunks brought from northern Russia or other northerly lands; three of us went to visit the bay while the others placed the provisions and the powder in the second room of the cabin. The chamber with the fireplace was large enough to serve us easily as a kitchen, dining room and dormitory.

  Clairancy, Edward and Martinet, who had been sent exploring, returned, the first two dragging two small tree trunks, which were cut into pieces and put on the fire. The Manseau, proud of his burden, brought an enormous fish back on his shoulders, which weighed at least sixty pounds, and which he had found on the shore still alive. Part of it was cooked immediately, and the rest was put in store. Clairancy told us that the Dutch journal had not misled us, and that we had more wood nearby than we could burn in the harshest winter.

  The Manseau, for his part, seeing how we rejoiced in the lucky find he had made, declared that he hoped to make similar ones frequently, because he was serendipitous when he was not at sea. His words amused us, because they flattered our hopes. Without being superstitious, humans in distress like to cradle all illusions, and there was probably no one in our little society who was not persuaded that in case of need, Martinet would be able to nourish the troop with his finds.

  Our food supplies were almost exhausted; we had been living for several days on bear meat; the Manseau’s fish made us six good meals, cheered up by the sweet water from our spring. We set aside the little wine and the few boxes of biscuit that remained to us, for any illnesses that might occur.

  When the fish was almost all eaten, we thought about going to bear-hunting, for none had yet appeared in the vicinity of the cabin. Before leaving, however, the Manseau told us that he wanted to make a less dangerous excursion first.