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The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras
"No."
"And no boat with which to reach England?"
They were both silent; they needed all their courage to meet this terrible situation.
"Well," resumed the boatswain, "there can be no doubts about our condition! We know what we have to expect! But the first thing to do, when the weather is so cold, is to build a snow-house."
"Yes," answered the doctor, "with Bell's aid that will be easy; then we'll go after the sledge, we'll bring the American here, and then we'll take counsel with Hatteras."
"Poor captain!" said Johnson, forgetting his own griefs; "he must suffer terribly."
With these words they returned to their companions. Hatteras was standing with folded arms, as usual, gazing silently into space. His face wore its usual expression of firmness. Of what was this remarkable man thinking? Of his desperate condition and shattered hopes? Was he planning to return, since both men and the elements had combined against his attempt?
No one could have read his thoughts, which his face in no way expressed. His faithful Duke was with him, braving a temperature of -32°.
Bell lay motionless on the ice; his insensibility might cost him his life; he was in danger of being frozen to death. Johnson shook him violently, rubbed him with snow, and with some difficulty aroused him from his torpor.
"Come, Bell, take courage!" he said; "don't lose heart; get up; we have to talk matters over, and we need a shelter. Have you forgotten how to make a snow-house? Come, help me, Bell! There's an iceberg we can cut into! Come, to work! That will give us what we need, courage!"
Bell, aroused by these words, obeyed the old sailor.
"Meanwhile," Johnson went on, "the doctor will be good enough to go to the sledge and bring it back with the dogs."
"I am ready," answered the doctor; "in an hour I shall be back."
"Shall you go too, Captain?" added Johnson, turning to Hatteras.
Although he was deep in thought, the captain heard the boatswain's question, for he answered gently, —
"No, my friend, if the doctor is willing to go alone. We must form some plan of action, and I want to be alone to think matters over. Go. Do what you think right for the present. I will be thinking of the future."
Johnson turned to the doctor.
"It's singular," he said; "the captain seems to have forgotten his anger; his voice never was so gentle before."
"Well!" answered the doctor; "he has recovered his presence of mind. Mark my words, Johnson, that man will be able to save us!"
Thereupon the doctor wrapped himself up as well as he could, and, staff in hand, walked away towards the sledge in the midst of a fog which the moonlight made almost bright. Johnson and Bell set to work immediately; the old sailor encouraged the carpenter, who wrought on in silence; they did not need to build, but to dig into the solid ice; to be sure it was frozen very hard, and so rendered the task difficult, but it was thereby additionally secure; soon Johnson and Bell could work comfortably in the orifice, throwing outside all that they took from the solid mass.
From time to time Hatteras would walk fitfully, stopping suddenly every now and then; evidently he did not wish to reach the spot where his brig had been. As he had promised, the doctor was soon back; he brought with him Altamont, lying on the sledge beneath all the coverings; the Greenland dogs, thin, tired, and half starved, could hardly drag the sledge, and were gnawing at their harness; it was high time that men and beasts should take some rest.
While they were digging the house, the doctor happened to stumble upon a small stove which had not been injured by the explosion, and with a piece of chimney that could be easily repaired: the doctor carried it away in triumph. At the end of three hours the house was inhabitable; the stove was set in and filled with pieces of wood; it was soon roaring and giving out a comfortable warmth.
The American was brought in and covered up carefully; the four Englishmen sat about the fire. The last supplies of the sledge, a little biscuit and some hot tea, gave them some comfort. Hatteras did not speak; every one respected his silence. When the meal was finished the doctor made a sign for Johnson to follow him outside.
"Now," he said, "we are going to make an inventory of what is left. We must know exactly what things we have; they are scattered all about; we must pick them up; it may snow at any moment, and then it would be impossible to find a scrap."
"Don't let us lose any time, then," answered Johnson; "food and wood is what we need at once."
"Well, let us each take a side," answered the doctor, "so as to cover the whole ground; let us begin at the centre and go out to the circumference."
They went at once to the bed of ice where the Forward had lain; each examined with care all the fragments of the ship beneath the dim light of the moon. It was a genuine hunt; the doctor entered into this occupation with all the zest, not to say the pleasure, of a sportsman, and his heart beat high when he discovered a chest almost intact; but most were empty, and their fragments were scattered everywhere.
The violence of the explosion had been considerable; many things were but dust and ashes; the large pieces of the engine lay here and there, twisted out of shape; the broken flanges of the screw were hurled twenty fathoms from the ship and buried deeply in the hardened snow; the bent cylinders had been torn from their pivots; the chimney, torn nearly in two, and with chains still hanging to it, lay half hid under a large cake of ice; the bolts, bars, the iron-work of the helm, the sheathing, all the metal-work of the ship, lay about as if it had been fired from a gun.
But this iron, which would have made the fortune of a tribe of Esquimaux, was of no use under the circumstances; before anything else food had to be found, and the doctor did not discover a great deal.
"That's bad," he said to himself; "it is evident that the store-room, which was near the magazine, was entirely destroyed by the explosion; what wasn't burned was shattered to dust. It's serious; and if Johnson is not luckier than I am, I don't see what's going to become of us."
Still, as he enlarged his circles, the doctor managed to collect a few fragments of pemmican, about fifteen pounds, and four stone bottles, which had been thrown out upon the snow and so had escaped destruction; they held five or six pints of brandy.
Farther on he picked up two packets of grains of cochlearia, which would well make up for the loss of their lime-juice, which is so useful against the scurvy.
Two hours later the doctor and Johnson met. They told one another of their discoveries; unfortunately they had found but little to eat: some few pieces of salt pork, fifty pounds of pemmican, three sacks of biscuit, a little chocolate, some brandy, and about two pounds of coffee, picked up berry by berry on the ice.
No coverings, no hammocks, no clothing, were found; evidently the fire had destroyed all. In short, the doctor and boatswain had found supplies for three weeks at the outside, and with the strictest economy; that was not much for them in their state of exhaustion. So, in consequence of these disasters, Hatteras found himself not only without any coal, but also short of provisions.
As to the fuel supplied by the fragments of the ship, the pieces of the masts and the keel, they might hold out about three weeks; but then the doctor, before using it to heat their new dwelling, asked Johnson whether out of it they might not build a new ship, or at least a launch.
"No, Doctor," answered the boatswain, "it's impossible; there's not a piece of wood large enough; it's good for nothing except to keep us warm for a few days and then – "
"Then?" asked the doctor.
"God alone knows," answered the sailor.
Having made out their list, the doctor and Johnson went after the sledge; they harnessed the tired dogs, returned to the scene of the explosion, packed up the few precious objects they had found, and carried them to their new house; then, half frozen, they took their place near their companions in misfortune.
CHAPTER II
ALTAMONT'S FIRST WORDS
Towards eight o'clock in the evening the snow-clouds cleared away for a few minutes; the constellations shone brilliantly in the clear air. Hatteras made use of this change to get the altitude of some stars; he went out without saying a word, carrying his instruments with him. He wished to ascertain his position and see if the ice-field had not been drifting again. After an absence of half an hour he came back, lay down in a corner, and remained perfectly still, although not asleep.
The next day snow began to fall heavily; the doctor could not help being glad that he had made his examination the day before, for a white curtain soon covered the whole expanse, and every trace of the explosion was hidden under three feet of snow.
On that day they could not set foot outside; fortunately their quarters were comfortable, or at least seemed so to the exhausted travellers. The little stove worked well, except occasionally when violent gusts drove the smoke into the room; with its heat they could make coffee and tea, which are both so serviceable beverages when the temperature is low.
The castaways, for they deserve the name, found themselves more comfortable than they had been for a long time; hence they only thought of the present, of the agreeable warmth, of the brief rest, forgetting, or even indifferent to the future, which threatened with speedy death.
The American suffered less, and gradually returned to life; he opened his eyes, but he did not say anything; his lips bore traces of the scurvy, and could not utter a sound; he could hear, and was told where he was and how he got there. He moved his head as a sign of gratitude; he saw that he had been saved from burial beneath the snow; the doctor forbore telling him how very short a time his death had been delayed, for, in a fortnight or three weeks at the most, their supply of food would be exhausted.
Towards midday Hatteras arose and went up to the doctor, Johnson, and Bell.
"My friends," he said to them, "we are going to take a final resolution as to the course we must follow. In the first place, I must ask Johnson to tell me under what circumstances this act of treachery came to pass."
"Why should we know?" said the doctor; "the fact is certain, we need give it no more thought."
"I am thinking of it, all the same," answered Hatteras. "But after I've heard what Johnson has to say, I shall not think of it again."
"This is the way it happened," went on the boatswain; "I did all I could to prevent the crime – "
"I am sure of that, Johnson, and I will add that the leaders had been plotting it for some time."
"So I thought," said the doctor.
"And I too," continued Johnson; "for very soon after your departure, Captain, on the very next day, Shandon, who was angry with you and was egged on by the others, took command of the ship; I tried to resist, but in vain. After that, every one acted as he saw fit; Shandon did not try to control them; he wanted to let the crew see that the time of suffering and privation had gone by. Hence there was no economy; a huge fire was lighted in the stove; they began to burn the brig. The men had the provisions given them freely, and the spirits too, and you can easily imagine the abuse they made of them after their long abstinence. Things went on in this way from the 7th to the 15th of January."
"So," said Hatteras, in a grave voice, "it was Shandon who incited the men to revolt?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Say nothing more about him. Go on, Johnson."
"It was towards January 24th or 25th, that the plan of leaving the ship was formed. They determined to reach the western coast of Baffin's Bay; from there, in the launch, they could meet whalers, or, perhaps, the settlements on the eastern side. Their supplies were abundant; the sick grew better with the hope of reaching home. So they made their plans for leaving; they built a sledge for the transport of their food, fuel, and the launch; the men were to drag it themselves. This occupied them until February 15th. I kept anxiously awaiting your return, Captain, and yet I feared having you present; you would have had no influence over the crew, who would rather have killed you than have remained on board. They were wild with the hope of escape. I took all my companions aside and spoke to them, I besought them to stay; I pointed out all the dangers of such a journey, as well as the cowardliness of abandoning you. I could get nothing, even from the best. They chose February 22d for leaving. Shandon was impatient. They heaped upon the sledge all the food and liquor it could hold; they took a great deal of wood; the whole larboard side had been cut away to the water-line. The last day they passed carousing; they ravaged and stole everything, and it was during this drunkenness that Pen and two or three others set fire to the ship. I resisted, and struggled against them; they threw me down and struck me; at last, these villains, with Shandon at their head, fled to the east, and disappeared from my sight. I remained alone; what could I do against this fire which was seizing the whole ship? The water-hole was frozen over; I hadn't a drop of water. For two days the Forward was wrapped in flames, and you know the rest."
Having finished this account, a long silence prevailed in this ice-house; the gloomy tale of the burning of the ship, the loss of their precious brig, appeared so vividly before the minds of the castaways; they found themselves before an impossibility, and that was a return to England. They did not dare to look at one another, for fear of seeing on each other's faces blank despair. There was nothing to be heard save the hasty breathing of the American.
At last Hatteras spoke.
"Johnson," said he, "I thank you; you have done all you could to save my ship. But you could not do anything alone. Again I thank you, and now don't let us speak again of this misfortune. Let us unite our efforts for the common safety. There are four of us here, four friends, and the life of one is of no more worth than the life of another. Let each one give his opinion on what should be done."
"Ask us, Hatteras," answered the doctor; "we are all devoted to you, our answers shall be sincere. And, in the first place, have you any plan?"
"I can't have any alone," said Hatteras, sadly. "My opinion might seem interested; I want to hear your opinion first."
"Captain," said Johnson, "before speaking on such weighty matters, I have an important question to ask you."
"What is it?"
"You ascertained our position yesterday; well, has the ice-field drifted any more, or are we in just the same place?"
"It has not stirred," answered Hatteras. "The latitude before we left was 80° 15', and longitude 97° 35'."
"And," said Johnson, "how far are we from the nearest sea to the west?"31
"About six hundred miles," answered Hatteras.
"And this water is – "
"Smith's Sound."
"The same which we could not cross last April?"
"The same."
"Well, Captain, now we know where we are, and we can make up our minds accordingly."
"Speak, then," said Hatteras, letting his head sink into his hands.
In that way he could hear his friends without looking at them.
"Well, Bell," said the doctor, "what do you think is the best course to follow?"
"It isn't necessary to reflect a long time," answered the carpenter; "we ought to return, without wasting a day or an hour, either to the south or the west, and reach the nearest coast, even if it took us two months!"
"We have supplies for only three weeks," answered Hatteras, without raising his head.
"Well," continued Johnson, "we must make that distance in three weeks, since it's our only chance of safety; if we have to crawl on our knees at the end, we must leave, and arrive in twenty-five days."
"This part of the northern continent is not known," answered Hatteras. "We may meet obstacles, such as mountains and glaciers, which will completely bar our progress."
"I don't consider that," answered the doctor, "a sufficient reason for not attempting the journey; evidently, we shall suffer a great deal; we ought to reduce our daily supply to the minimum, unless luck in hunting – "
"There's only half a pound of powder left," answered Hatteras.
"Come, Hatteras," resumed the doctor, "I know the weight of all your objections, and I don't nourish any vain hopes. But I think I can read your thoughts; have you any practicable plan?"
"No," answered the captain, after a few moments' hesitation.
"You do not doubt our courage," continued the doctor; "we are willing to follow you to the last, you know very well; but should we not now abandon all hope of reaching the Pole? Mutiny has overthrown your plans; you fought successfully against natural obstacles, but not against the weakness and perfidy of men; you have done all that was humanly possible, and I am sure you would have succeeded; but, in the present condition of affairs, are you not compelled to give up your project, and in order to take it up again, should you not try to reach England without delay?"
"Well, Captain?" asked Johnson, when Hatteras had remained a long time silent.
At last the captain raised his head, and said in a constrained tone, —
"Do you think you are sure of reaching the shore of the sound, tired as you are, and almost without food?"
"No," answered the doctor; "but it's sure the shore won't come to us; we must go to it. Perhaps we shall find to the south tribes of Esquimaux who may aid us."
"Besides," added Johnson, "may we not find in the sound some ship that has been forced to winter there."
"And if need be," continued the doctor, "when we've reached the sound, may we not cross it, and reach the west coast of Greenland, and then, either by Prudhoe's Land, or Cape York, get to some Danish settlement? Nothing of that sort is to be found on the ice-field. The way to England is down there to the south, and not here to the north!"
"Yes," said Bell, "Dr. Clawbonny is right; we must go, and go at once. Hitherto we have forgotten home too much, and those who are dear to us."
"Do you agree, Johnson?" Hatteras asked again.
"Yes, Captain."
"And you, Doctor?"
"Yes, Hatteras."
Hatteras still remained silent; in spite of all he could do, his face expressed his agitation. His whole life depended on the decision he should take; if he should return, it was all over with his bold plans; he could not hope to make the attempt a fourth time.
The doctor, seeing the captain was silent, again spoke.
"I ought to add, Hatteras," he said, "that we ought not to lose an instant; we ought to load the sledge with all our provisions, and take as much wood as possible. A journey of six hundred miles under such circumstances is long, I confess, but not insuperable; we can, or rather we ought, to make twenty miles a day, which would bring us to the coast in a month, that is to say, towards March 26th."
"But," said Hatteras, "can't we wait a few days?"
"What do you hope for?" answered Johnson.
"I don't know. Who can foretell the future? Only a few days yet! It's hardly enough to rest your wearied bodies. We couldn't go two stages without dropping from weariness, without any snow-house to shelter us!"
"But a terrible death certainly awaits us here!" cried Bell.
"My friends," continued Hatteras in a tone almost of entreaty, "you are despairing too soon! I should propose to seek safety to the north, were it not that you would refuse to follow me. And yet are there not Esquimaux near the Pole, as well as at Smith's Sound? That open sea, of which the existence is uncertain, ought to surround a continent. Nature is logical in everything it does. Well, we ought to believe that vegetation appears when the greatest cold ceases. Is there not a promised land awaiting us at the north, and which you want to fly from without hope of return?"
Hatteras warmed as he spoke; his heated imagination called up enchanting visions of these countries, whose existence was still so problematical.
"One more day," he repeated, "a single hour!"
Dr. Clawbonny, with his adventurous character and his glowing imagination, felt himself gradually aroused; he was about to yield; but Johnson, wiser and colder, recalled him to reason and duty.
"Come, Bell," he said, "to the sledge!"
"Come along!" answered Bell.
The two sailors turned towards the door of the snow-house.
"O Johnson! you! you!" shouted Hatteras. "Well, go! I shall stay!"
"Captain!" said Johnson, stopping in spite of himself.
"I shall stay, I say! Go! leave me like the rest! Go! – Come, Duke, we two shall stay!"
The brave dog joined his master, barking. Johnson looked at the doctor. He did not know what to do; the best plan was to calm Hatteras, and to sacrifice a day to his fancies. The doctor was about making up his mind to this effect, when he felt some one touch his arm.
He turned round. The American had just left the place where he had been lying; he was crawling on the floor; at last he rose to his knees, and from his swollen lips a few inarticulate sounds issued.
The doctor, astonished, almost frightened, gazed at him silently. Hatteras approached the American, and examined him closely. He tried to make out the words which the poor fellow could not pronounce. At last, after trying for five minutes, he managed to utter this word: —
"Porpoise."
"The Porpoise?" asked the captain.
The American bowed affirmatively.
"In these seas?" asked Hatteras with beating heart.
The same sign from the sick man.
"To the north?"
"Yes."
"And you know where it lies?"
"Yes."
"Exactly?"
There was a moment's silence. The bystanders were all excited.
"Now, listen carefully," said Hatteras to the sick man; "we must know where this ship lies. I am going to count the degrees aloud; you will stop me by a sign."
The American bowed his head to show that he understood.
"Come," said Hatteras, "we'll begin with the longitude. One hundred and five? No. – Hundred and six? Hundred and seven? Hundred and eight? Far to the west?"
"Yes," said the American.
"Let us go on. Hundred and nine? Ten? Eleven? Twelve? Fourteen? Sixteen? Eighteen? Nineteen? Twenty?"
"Yes," answered Altamont.
"Longitude one hundred and twenty?" said Hatteras. "And how many minutes? I shall count."
Hatteras began at number one. At fifteen Altamont made a sign for him to stop.
"All right!" said Hatteras. "Now for the latitude. You understand? Eighty? Eighty-one? Eighty-two? Eighty-three?"
The American stopped him with a gesture.
"Well! And the minutes? Five? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? Twenty-five? Thirty? Thirty-five?"
Another sign from Altamont, who smiled slightly.
"So," continued Hatteras, in a deep voice, "the Porpoise lies in longitude 120° 15', and 83° 35' latitude?"
"Yes!" said the American, as he fell fainting into the doctor's arms. This exertion had exhausted him.
"My friends," cried Hatteras, "you see that safety lies to the north, always to the north! We shall be saved!"
But after these first words of joy, Hatteras seemed suddenly struck by a terrible thought. His expression changed, and he felt himself stung by the serpent of jealousy.
Some one else, an American, had got three degrees nearer the Pole! And for what purpose?
CHAPTER III
SEVENTEEN DAYS OF LAND JOURNEY
This new incident, these first words which Altamont uttered, had completely altered the situation of the castaways; but just now they had been far from any possible aid, without a reasonable chance of reaching Baffin's Bay, threatened with starvation on a journey too long for their wearied bodies, and now, within four hundred miles from their snow-house, there was a ship which offered them bounteous supplies, and perhaps the means of continuing their bold course to the Pole. Hatteras, the doctor, Johnson, and Bell, all began to take heart after having been so near despair; they were nearly wild with joy.
But Altamont's account was still incomplete, and, after a few moments' repose, the doctor resumed his talk with him; he framed his questions in such a way that a simple sign of the head or a motion of the eyes would suffice for an answer.