The Field of Ice

by Jules Verne

  RETURN SOUTH.

  Three hours after this sad denouement of the adventures of CaptainHatteras, the whole party were back once more in the grotto.

  Clawbonny was asked his opinion as to what was best to be done.

  "Well, friends," he said, "we cannot stay longer in thisisland; the sea is open, and we have enough provisions. We ought tostart at once, and get back without the least delay to FortProvidence, where we must winter."

  "That is my opinion, too," said Altamont. "The wind isfavourable, so to-morrow we will get to sea."

  The day passed in profound dejection. The insanity of the captainwas a bad omen and when they began to talk over the return voyage,their hearts failed them for fear. They missed the intrepid spiritof their leader.

  However, like brave men, they prepared to battle anew with theelements and with themselves, if ever they felt inclined to give way.

  ]

  Next morning they made all ready to sail, and brought the tent andall its belongings on board.

  But before leaving these rocks, never to return, the Doctor carryingout the intentions of Hatteras, had a cairn erected on the very spotwhere the poor fellow had jumped ashore. It was made of great blocksplaced one on the top of the other, so as to be a landmark perfectlyvisible while the eruptions of the volcano left it undisturbed. Onone of the side stones, Bell chiselled the simple inscription--

  JOHN HATTERAS.

  The duplicate of the document attesting the discovery of the NorthPole was enclosed in a tinned iron cylinder, and deposited in thecairn, to remain as a silent witness among those desert rocks.

  This done, the four men and the captain, a poor body without a soul,set out on the return voyage, accompanied by the faithful Duk, whohad become sad and downcast. A new sail was manufactured out of thetent, and about ten o'clock, the little sloop sailed out beforethe wind.

  She made a quick passage, finding abundance of open water. It wascertainly easier to get away from the Pole than to get to it.

  But Hatteras knew nothing that was passing around him. He lay fulllength in the boat, perfectly silent, with lifeless eye and foldedarms, and Duk lying at his feet. Clawbonny frequently addressed him,but could elicit no reply.

  On the 15th they sighted Altamont Harbour, but as the sea was openall along the coast, they determined to go round to Victoria Bay bywater, instead of crossing New America in the sledge.

  The voyage was easy and rapid. In a week they accomplished what hadtaken a fortnight in the sledge, and on the 23rd they cast anchor inVictoria Bay.

  As soon as the sloop was made fast, they all hastened to FortProvidence. But what a scene of devastation met their eyes!Doctor's House, stores, powder-magazine, fortifications, all hadmelted away, and the provisions had been ransacked by devouringanimals.

  The navigators had almost come to the end of their supplies, and hadbeen reckoning on replenishing their stores at Fort Providence. Theimpossibility of wintering there now was evident, and they decidedto get to Baffin's Bay by the shortest route.

  "We have no alternative," said Clawbonny; "Baffin's Bay isnot more than six hundred miles distant. We can sail as long asthere is water enough under our sloop, and get to Jones' Sound,and then on to the Danish settlements."

  "Yes," said Altamont; "let us collect what food remains, andbe off at once."

  After a thorough search, a few cases of pemmican were foundscattered here and there, and two barrels of preserved meat,altogether enough for six weeks, and a good supply of powder. It wassoon collected and brought on board, and the remainder of the daywas employed in caulking the sloop and putting her in good trim.

  Next morning they put out once more to sea. The voyage presented nogreat difficulties, the drift-ice being easily avoided; but stillthe Doctor thought it advisable, in case of possible delays, tolimit the rations to one-half. This was no great hardship, as therewas not much work for anyone to do, and all were in perfect health.

  Besides, they found a little shooting, and brought down ducks, andgeese, and guillemots, or sea turtledoves. Water they were able tosupply themselves with in abundance, from the fresh-water icebergsthey constantly fell in with as they kept near the coast, not daringto venture out to the open sea in so frail a barque.

  At that time of the year, the thermometer was already constantlybelow freezing point. The frequent rains changed to snow, and theweather became gloomy. Each day the sun dipped lower below thehorizon, and on the 30th, for a few minutes, he was out of sightaltogether.

  However, the little sloop sailed steadily on without stopping aninstant. They knew what fatigues and obstacles a land journeyinvolved, if they should be forced to adopt it, and no time was tobe lost, for soon the open water would harden to firm ground;already the young ice had begun to form. In these high latitudesthere is neither spring nor autumn; winter follows close on theheels of summer.

  On the 31st the first stars glimmered overhead, and from that timeforwards there was continual fog, which considerably impedednavigation.

  The Doctor became very uneasy at these multiplied indications ofapproaching winter. He knew the difficulties Sir John Ross had tocontend with after he left his ship to try and reach Baffin's Bay,and how, after all, he was compelled to return and pass a fourthwinter on board. It was bad enough with shelter and food and fuel,but if any such calamity befell the survivors of the Forward, ifthey were obliged to stop or return, they were lost.

  ]

  The Doctor said nothing of his anxieties to his companions, but onlyurged them to get as far east as possible.

  At last, after thirty days' tolerably quick sailing, and afterbattling for forty-eight hours against the increasing drift ice, andrisking the frail sloop a hundred times, the navigators sawthemselves blocked in on all sides. Further progress was impossible,for the sea was frozen in every direction, and the thermometer wasonly 15 deg. above zero.

  Altamont made a reckoning with scrupulous precision, and found theywere in 77 deg.15' latitude, and 85 deg. 2' longitude.

  "This is our exact position then," said the Doctor. "We are inSouth Lincoln, just at Cape Eden, and are entering Jones' Sound.With a little more good luck, we should have found open water rightto Baffin's Bay. But we must not grumble. If my poor Hatteras hadfound as navigable a sea at first, he would have soon reached thePole. His men would not have deserted him, and his brain would nothave given way under the pressure of terrible trial."

  "I suppose, then," said Altamont, "our only course is to leavethe sloop, and get by sledge to the east coast of Lincoln."

  "Yes; but I think we should go through Jones' Sound, and get toSouth Devon instead of crossing Lincoln."

  "Why?"

  "Because the nearer we get to Lancaster Sound, the more chance wehave of meeting whalers."

  "You are right; but I question whether the ice is firm enough tomake it practicable."

  "We'll try," replied Clawbonny.

  The little vessel was unloaded, and the sledge put together again.All the parts were in good condition, so the next day the dogs wereharnessed, and they started off along the coast to reach theice-field; but Altamont's opinion proved right. They could not getthrough Jones' Sound, and were obliged to follow the coast toLincoln.

  At last, on the 24th, they set foot on North Devon.

  "Now," said Clawbonny, "we have only to cross this, and get toCape Warender at the entrance to Lancaster Sound."

  But the weather became frightful, and very cold. The snow-storms andtempests returned with winter violence, and the travellers felt tooweak to contend with them. Their stock of provisions was almostexhausted, and rations had to be reduced now to a third, that thedogs might have food enough to keep them in working condition.

  The nature of the ground added greatly to the fatigue. North Devonis extremely wild and rugged, and the path across the Trautermountains is through difficult gorges. The whole party--men, anddogs, and sledge alike--were frequently forced to stop, for theycould not struggle on against the fury of the elements. More tha
nonce despair crept over the brave little band, hardy as they were,and used to Polar sufferings. Though scarcely aware of itthemselves, they were completely worn out, physically and mentally.

  It was not till the 30th of August that they emerged from these wildmountains into a plain, which seemed to have been upturned andconvulsed by volcanic action at some distant period.

  Here it was absolutely necessary to take a few days' rest, for thetravellers could not drag one foot after the other, and two of thedogs had died from exhaustion. None of the party felt equal to putup the tent, so they took shelter behind an iceberg.

  Provisions were now so reduced, that, notwithstanding their scantyrations, there was only enough left for one week. Starvation staredthe poor fellows in the face.

  "Dead, frozen----"--P.262]

  Altamont, who had displayed great unselfishness and devotion to theothers, roused his sinking energies, and determined to go out andfind food for his comrades.

  He took his gun, called Duk, and went off almost unnoticed by therest.

  He had been absent about an hour, and only once during that time hadthey heard the report of his gun; and now he was coming backempty-handed, but running as if terrified.

  "What is the matter?" asked the Doctor.

  "Down there, under the snow!" said Altamont, speaking as ifscared, and pointing in a particular direction.

  "What?"

  "A whole party of men!"

  "Alive?"

  "Dead--frozen--and even--"

  He did not finish the sentence, but a look of unspeakable horrorcame over his face.

  The Doctor and the others were so roused by this incident, that theymanaged to get up and drag themselves after Altamont towards theplace he indicated.

  They soon arrived, at a narrow part at the bottom of a ravine, andwhat a spectacle met their gaze! Dead bodies, already stiff, layhalf-buried in a winding-sheet of snow. A leg visible here, an armthere, and yonder shrunken hands and rigid faces, stamped with theexpression of rage and despair.

  The Doctor stooped down to look at them more closely, but instantlystarted back pale and agitated, while Duk barked ominously.

  "Horrible, horrible!" he said.

  "What is it?" asked Johnson.

  "Don't you recognize them?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Look and see!"

  It was evident this ravine had been but recently the scene of afearful straggle with cold, and despair, and starvation, for bycertain horrible remains it was manifest that the poor wretches hadbeen feeding on human flesh, perhaps while still warm andpalpitating; and among them the Doctor recognized Shandon, Pen, andthe ill-fated crew of the Forward! Their strength had failed;provisions had come to an end; their boat had been broken, perhapsby an avalanche or engulphed in some abyss, and they could not takeadvantage of the open sea; or perhaps they had lost their way inwandering over these unknown continents. Moreover, men who set outunder the excitement of a revolt were not likely to remain longunited. The leader of a rebellion has but a doubtful power, and nodoubt Shandon's authority had been soon cast off.

  Be that as it might, it was evident the crew had come throughagonies of suffering and despair before this last terriblecatastrophe, but the secret of their miseries is buried with thembeneath the polar snows.

  "Come away! come away!" said the Doctor, dragging his companionsfrom the scene. Horror gave them momentary strength, and theyresumed their march without stopping a minute longer.

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  CONCLUSION.

  It would be useless to enumerate all the misfortunes which befellthe survivors of the expedition. Even the men themselves were neverable to give any detailed narrative of the events which occurredduring the week subsequent to the horrible discovery related in thelast chapter. However, on the 9th of September, by superhumanexertions, they arrived at last at Cape Horsburg, the extreme pointof North Devon.

  They were absolutely starving. For forty-eight hours they had tastednothing, and their last meal had been off the flesh of their lastEsquimaux dog. Bell could go no further, and Johnson felt himselfdying.

  They were on the shore of Baffin's Bay, now half-frozen over; thatis to say, on the road to Europe, and three miles off the waves weredashing noiselessly on the sharp edges of the ice-field.

  Here they must wait their chance of a whaler appearing; and for howlong?

  But Heaven pitied the poor fellows, for the very next day Altamontdistinctly perceived a sail on the horizon. Every one knows thetorturing suspense that follows such an appearance, and theagonizing dread lest it should prove a false hope. The vessel seemsalternately to approach and recede, and too often just at the verymoment when the poor castaways think they are saved, the sail beginsto disappear, and is soon out of sight.

  Two hours later, after unheard-of exertions, thesurvivors of the Forward were picked up by the HansChristian.--P.266]

  The Doctor and his companions went through all these experiences.They had succeeded in reaching the western boundary of the ice-fieldby carrying and pushing each other along, and they watched the shipgradually fade away from view without observing them, in spite oftheir loud cries for help.

  Just then a happy inspiration came to the Doctor. His fertilegenius, which had served him many a time in such good stead,supplied him with one last idea!

  A floe driven by the current struck against the icefield, andClawbonny exclaimed, pointing to it--

  "This floe!"

  His companions could not understand what he meant.

  "Let us embark on it! let us embark on it!"

  "Oh! Mr. Clawbonny, Mr. Clawbonny," said Johnson, pressing hishand.

  Bell, assisted by Altamont, hurried to the sledge, and brought backone of the poles, which he stuck fast on the ice like a mast, andfastened it with ropes. The tent was torn up to furnish a sail, andas soon as the frail raft was ready the poor fellows jumped upon it,and sailed out to the open sea.

  Two hours later, after unheard-of exertions, the survivors of theForward were picked up by the Hans Christian, a Danish whaler, onher way to Davis' Straits. They were more like spectres than humanbeings, and the sight of their sufferings was enough. It told itsown tale; but the captain received them with such hearty sympathy,and lavished on them such care and kindness, that he succeeded inkeeping them alive.

  Ten days afterwards, Clawbonny, Johnson, Bell, Altamont, and CaptainHatteras landed at Korsam, in Zealand, an island belonging toDenmark. They took the steamer to Kiel, and from there proceeded byAltona and Hamburg to London, where they arrived on the 13th of thesame month, scarcely recovered after their long sufferings.

  The first care of Clawbonny was to request the Royal GeographicalSociety to receive a communication from him. He was accordinglyadmitted to the next

  --P.267]

  seance, and one can imagine the astonishment of the learnedassembly and the enthusiastic applause produced by the reading ofHatteras' document.

  The English have a passion for geographical discovery, from the lordto the cockney, from the merchant down to the dock labourer, and thenews of this grand discovery speedily flashed along the telegraphwires, throughout the length and breadth of the kingdom. Hatteraswas lauded as a martyr by all the newspapers, and every Englishmanfelt proud of him.

  The Doctor and his companions had the honour of being presented tothe Queen by the Lord Chancellor, and they were feted and"lionized" in all quarters.

  The Government confirmed the names of "Queen's Island,""Mount Hatteras," and "Altamont Harbour."

  Altamont would not part from his companions in misery and glory, butfollowed them to Liverpool, where they were joyously welcomed back,after being so long supposed dead and buried beneath the eternalsnows.

  But Dr. Clawbonny would never allow that any honour was due tohimself. He claimed all the merit of the discovery for hisunfortunate captain, and in the narrative of his voyage, publishedthe next year under the auspices of the Royal Geographical Society,he places John Hatteras on a level with th
e most illustriousnavigators, and makes him the compeer of all the brave, daring menwho have sacrificed themselves for the progress of science.

  The insanity of this poor victim of a sublime passion was of a mildtype, and he lived quietly at Sten Cottage, a private asylum nearLiverpool, where the Doctor himself had placed him. He never spoke,and understood nothing that was said to him; reason and speech hadfled together. The only tie that connected him with the outsideworld was his friendship for Duk, who was allowed to remain with him.

  For a considerable time the captain had been in the habit of walkingin the garden for hours, accompanied by his faithful dog, whowatched him with sad, wistful eyes, but his promenade was always inone direction in a particular part of the garden. When he got to theend of this path, he would stop and begin to walk backwards. Ifanyone stopped him he would point with his finger towards a certainpart of the sky, but let anyone attempt to turn him round, and hebecame angry, while Duk, as if sharing his master's sentiments,would bark furiously.

  The Doctor, who often visited his afflicted friend, noticed thisstrange proceeding one day, and soon understood the reason of it. Hesaw how it was that he paced so constantly in a given direction, asif under the influence of some magnetic force.

  This was the secret: John Hatteras invariably walked towards theNorth.

  The End.

  End of the Voyage Extraordinaire