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Tous les autres exemplairas originaux sont filmAs en commen^ant par la premiere page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboies suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole — ^ signifie "A SUIVRE ". le symbols V signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film^s A des taux da reduction diff^rants. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clichi, il est film* A partir de I'angla supArieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaira. Les diagrammes suivants illustrant la mithoda. rata D talure, id 3 32X f ImI:,;!!!:": liiliiliii I ()l,I) I'KTHU (JUKH.Y. 8. THE VOYAGE OF THE CONSTANCE A TALE OF THE J'OLAU SEAS Br M\RY GILLIES. „ J.UVV, bOxN, AND JIAKSTov JIlLIO.Nf HOU.sk, LL-DGAXii UlLL. MUCCCLXVII. '\vlri ^' HARRILD PPWen LONDO PREFACE. ■ t o%ata,e,buUco.np.otoM.tor,ofArctic.dv-o„t„..e and d.scovor, concWd into .a small spaeo. It has — d to .0 that the ,o„„, o„,,, ,, ,„^^^ ^,^^_ eventful .tor, of the poH„ tho suffoHng, and the t"-pl.s of thei.. eo„„t.-,.e„, and of bra^o .on of ; ''"° ""^""'^«- '^''- '-fe-ning of this story we know, and its end wo havo witnessed only a few -okssinoo; Captain M'Clintoek's return, after dis- covering the last traces of Frinl-lin I >-^ oi iiaukim, has probably brought it to a close. i * '*^ i. <J i } IV Preface, A great amount of knowledge in various sciences lias been gained l)y tlie labours of Arctic explorers, and if many efforts liave failed and many valuable lives linve been lost, yet there have been so many instances of courage, devotion to duty, and wonderful escapes, that the wholj leaves on the mind a feeling of high hope and pleasure rather than of gloom. To make my account trustworthy, I have consulted all the best authorities on the subject, and carefully read the modern books of voyages, from Ross and Parry downwards. For Sir John Ross's four years in Boothia, and his escape in the boats, I had the advantnufe of knowincv an old sailor who was with him throughout, being one of the '^Victory's'' crew, and who himself gave me the w^hole account, besides many stories about the polar regions and adventures among the ice. For the discovery of the North-Avest Passage, and rescue of the crew of the " Investigator,^' I am indebted to Captain Osborne's two volumes ; and for the Middle Pack in Baffin's Bay, and the battle Preface. ^ with tl,o ico in oscnping fro.n it, „„,! „„eh el.so, to ]1,. Kano. In „11 n,y descriptions of nature and its ohung-cs in the various sea.sons, 1 ],ave endeavoured, in tbo minutest particulars, to bo strictly correct. AVith this explanation "The Voyage of the 'Con- stance ' ^^ is offovrul + ,. ollcicd to n.y young readers, to speak for itself. M. G. 1. ^' ; I LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. OLD PETER GREELY THE RESCUE OP THE " IXVESTUIATOli " TRIDENT S SLEDGE THE RETURN OP THE CARRIER-riGEON . THE FIRST ESQUniAUX EDWARD AND THE ESQUIMAUX CHILDREN JOHN AND EDWARD FIND A CAIRN EDWARD DISCOVERS HIS FATHER . rxGrt . friT^ . 21) . 96 . 108 . IIG . 174 . 182 . 238 . 246 COXTExA'TS. PAOre 96 108 IIG 174 182 238 246 CHAP. I- THE CAKRIER-PIGEOX n. AN EVENlx\G AT HOME "I. AN OLD SAILOR'S RECOLLECTIONS IV. THE MAGNETIC POLE . V. EDWARD'S FATE iS DECIDED VI. DEPARTURE VII. THE wanderer's RETURN . Viri. THE NORTH-WEST PASSAGE IX. THE RESCUE X. TRIDENT • • . XI. SIR HUGH ARMSTRONG XII. THE MESSENGER XIII. PREPARATION PAGB 1 . 14 . 29 44 57 70 75 82 89 98 106 114 126 II '? h I ; It Contents. Vlll CUAP. XIV. G00D-15YE TO FrinXITIM- \v. Tin; "coxsTAXCi; " SAILS . XVI. GOOD-IiVi: TO BRITAIN XVn. TFIF, OCT. AN .... XViir. TUH biKiS AN'. TIIEIU MASTERS . XIX. ']Hi: ICH .... XX. Tin: MiDDLi; tack XXI. AN EXPEKIMEXTAL TRIP . XXII. THE SLEDGE JOURNEY XXUI. THE FLAGSTAFF AND THE CAVE . XXIV. AWAKING .... XXV. THE LITTLE :\IA(;GIE . XXVI. ARCTIC ]IOUSEK£EPING XXVII. A MEETING AND A AFtTING XXVIII. AVINTEIL IN LANCASTER SOUND XXIX. SPRING IN LANCASTER SOUND XXX. CONCLUSION .... APPENDIX (WITH THB 6T0UY OF THE " FOx") PAGB 139 113 11-8 15.5 171 183 102 205 210 237 247 2.54 2G1 2G5 275 28G 300 307 ;* 111 ■1 PA OB 139 113 148 155 171 183 102 205 210 237 247 254 2G1 2G5 28G 300 307 / THE VOYAGE OF THE COXSTAXCE. CHAPTER I. THE CARRIKi: pioKOX. hhvU +11 ? ^"pse, and a whole chorus of bhiolc 1 j^ coct<ige, liaJf buried amonn- the fir fronc i ^ c-uld ea^ilyseo that whoever lived uLo^.slT T'.' ^voodsand ]ipof].o+i ^ '^^^ pt^tps or the pine- ana heaths that are so common i,. this part of Sanev, ■ I ■, I t (Mi I I , ' I 2 The Voyage of the Constance. and look all the wilder and fresher because they are sur- rounded by rich and verdant country clothed with spreading trees. All was so quiet round this cottage that you might have thought it was uninhabited, and yet there were assem- bled near the open drawing-room window a party not usually silent for very long together, consisting of a \oy of about fifteen, his sister two or three years younger, and a fine large black-and-white Newfoundland dog, who lay at their feet, and sometimes shut his eyes as if asleep, some- times joined in sympathy with them in gazing up into the air ; for they were intently looking up over the tree-tops, and only moved now and then to cast searching glances among the pigeons that were pruning their feathers on the roof of the stable where the pigeon-house was, or %ing home and settling in the nests for the night. " I am beginning to despair of our poor little Sir Launcelot this evening, Edward," said the young girl. " Aunt Mary would not send him off after eight o'clock this morning, she said she would not." " No, I feel afraid, too, that something has gone wrong. lie ought to fly this distance in ten hours, and it is past seven now ; eleven hours since eight o'clock." " Eitlier she has delayed for some reason or other, or ho has flown away and is not coming back to us at all ; and yet I can hardly believe that, after all the pains we have taken." " No more can I. Sir Launcelot is a capital fellow, and as true as steel. If anything has happened to him I shall go Avild." " And I shall be so sorry to lose the little darling, but that will be nothing compared to the disappointment it will be if we cannot train him." e sur- 3adiiig miglit assem- ty not \oy of and a lay at I some- ito the ;e-tops, n-lanccs i on the fly in tie Sir g gir-1- )ck this wrong. is past , or he ind yet akcn." fellow, him I \ig, but it will I 7'he Carrier-pigeon. 3 " It's a great deal too soon to despair, Maggie," said Edward, after a little silence. " I'll tell you what ! I shall go and look into tlie nests. Who knows but he has come back without our seeing him, though we have watched so closely, and has gone snugly to bed, tired with his long journey ?" As he spoke he jumped up and began to climb to the stable-roof, by the help of some trellis and an old pear-tree that covered the gable end. He soon reached it, and crawled along on hands and knees towards the pigeon-house. The dog had run with him to the wall, and now stood watching him, giving short barks and whines from time to time. " Do take care, Edward," cried Margaret, " you frighten me so when you climb about in that way !" Edward did not answer, but reached the pigeon-houso very safely, and looked into the different nests. " Two eggs here !" he said, talking to himself, " and two pretty little young ones here ; Launcy's children. I wonder what has become of his wife ? Gone to bring them their supper, I suppose. I wish I could get Maggie up to see. I shall get out the ladder to-morrow, and make her climb up and look at them. No !" he shouted, in answer to her inquiring looks. " There is no Sir Launcelot here !" Then he mounted to the highest point of the roof, and began to look all round. " I do believe he's coming," he cried, after about five minutes. " Edward ! do you really ?" " Oh, no, it's only the first rook. Here come all the rest in a body, cawing and flapping their wings. I am sure I beg your pardon, noble knight, for mistaking a crow fur you." 4 The Voyage of the Constance, Margaret was still looking up eagerly. " It's only the rooks going home !" he shouted. " Oh, yes, I see them now, and hear them too," she replied. " They look very pretty against the red sky, but a glimpse of little grey Launcy would be worth them all ten times over," she added, in a lower tone. A silence of five minutes followed. Edward was perched on the highest peak that could be reached, and looked steadily towards the north. Margaret felt a little anxious at his dangerous position, but she knew it was of no use to say so, and tried to fix her attention on the distant sky against which they hoped to see their little favourite appear. The silence was broken by a man's voice that came from the wood. " I've been a studying of you. Master Edward," cried this new-comer, "for these ten minutes and more, and it beats me to think what you are looking out for." " Why, Peter !" replied Edward, in a loud voice, " have you been stationed on that stump all this time ?" Yes, I'm waiting for the Captain. Isn'tliecoming home?" " Tell him, Margaret," cried Edward, " I cannot watch and shout too." Margaret, therefore, asked Peter to come nearer, and to sit down on one of the chairs on the lawn, but he was too polite for that ; he chose to stand while the young lady talked to him. She told him that her papa went to Scotland last week to settle with Sir Hugh Armstrong at Aberdeen, about the time when the " Pole-Star" was to sail, and whether he was to take the command, and that he was expected back in London to-day, and her mamma was gone to meet him, and most likely they would both be home by the train at eight o'clock. k )," slie :y, but lem all erclicil looked mxious I use to ,nt sky appear, ae from " cried , and it a have liome r It watch 'er, and he was young went to trong at I was to id that lamma )oth he .** The Carrier-pigeon. 5 " And when is he expecting to sail, Miss Margaret ?" "You know, Peter, it is not quite certain that lie will go at all." *' I don't make no manner of doubt about that, Miss Margaret," replied Peter. " If Sir Hugh Armstrong gets the choice of such a captain as he is to sail his ship, he won't refuse, you may be sure." ""We are afraid so, Peter," said Margaret, with a sigh ; *' but we do not know how soon the ship will be ready yet." "It's a strange thing now," said Peter, — -"a very strange thing, that a gentleman like him will leave a pretty place such as this is, all complete and like a jewel-case, as I may sa}'', to run into danger and hardsliip ; but he can never forget Sir John Franklin. One would think it had been enough to go once himself and send his nephew, that's almost as good as his son, seeing he's lived with him nearly all his life, besides. There's no news yet of Mr. John, is there, Miss?" " No, we cannot expect to hear now till the end of the summer or autumn. We hoped he would have come home last autumn." " It was full time he did. Let me sec. Lieutenant Armstrong sailed iu the ' Investigator,' Captain Maclure, as consort to the 'Enterprise,' Captain CoUinson, in I80O, by Behring's Straits, and this is 1853. Three winters in the ice ! Very true, we was four, but then every one mayn't have our luck ;" and Peter shook his head and looked very dismal. "Then you think it is very dangerous, Peter?" " Why, as to that. Miss, when you get among the ice you're in clanger at every turn — if there's a wind blowing, that is ; and even if it's calm, there's tides and currents, no Ill i 1, II II I I ■!' 6 The Voyage of the Constance. end o' them. Suppose, now, you was out in a carriage, or a shay now, and met the church coming bearing down on you, steeple and all, and couldn't get out of its way, or if you did, you went smash against that flat grass field that had weighed anchor, and was coming full sail aboard of you : and as to the church compared to an iceberg, it's a mere pigmy, for they're two and three hundred feet above the water, and twice as much below ; and as to the floes — as they call the flat fields of ice — why, they're miles long sometimes. And then what's one church, or one iceberg ? I've seen a hundred at once round us." This was rather poor comfort to j\Iargaret, whose heart was full of fears for her father and for her cousin ; but she tried to take courage, and thought of the strength of a ship in comparison with a carriage. "But the ships are built strong enough to stand the shocks," she said. " TJiat's true, Miss. They would be in a critical point else. Our ship was nipped again and again, and rose like a Juck on the ice instead of being stoved in." "Nipped! What is that?" "Pinched between two floes or great pieces of ice. You're to suppose — don't you see — that you're sailing by a long flat field of ice that's fixed. Then comes another driving before the wind, or on some current, right down upon you ; that's the idea of it." " It's very dreadful ! " " You Qnaij be smashed and go to the bottom, ship and all, or you may slip up high and dry on the ice like a duck, as I said before, and the ice close under you." " And is that what your ship did ? " " Yes, many times ; and when the ice closes, there's a I n! Illl age, or wn on ■f, or if id that )ard of ', it's a r above floes — BS long eberg ? 56 lieart but slie f a ship md the il point )se like of ice. |ng by a .notlier t down lip and la duck, lere s a f'.i The Carrier-pigeon. 7 smash ! Crash it goes, thundering and snapping, and the sea boiling up between the broken pieces, and great tables of ice starting up edgeways and falling again and toppling over, and then again rising in ridges of hummocks, as they're called. You may tliink how the ship bumps about in the middle of it. I've seen us all thrown down heels over-heati about the decks, and twelve kittles at once jump off the galley-fire." ^Margaret begun to laugh in spite of the dreadful stories Peter was telling her. " If it warn't for my old woman at home I would have another spell of it myself," added Peter. " And who knows but what I may yet ? I just want to have one more talk with the Captain about it." ]\rargaret looked very much surprised and puzzled at this conclusion to Peter's stories. It was not at all what she had expected. "But what is Master Edward about up there?" he asked, after a short pause. " Watching for our carrier-pigeon. We have trained him for months to bring home notes to us under his wing, that papa may take him on his voyage and send him back to us. Perhaps he would come and bring us a message when we were longing for one very much." Peter gave a sort of grunt, and looked very doubtful indeed ; then asked how far the bird had to come this evenmg Margaret replied that her papa took him to Aberdeen when he went, and that her Aunt Mary was to send him off from there this morning, and that they reckoned, as he would fly, it would not be much over four hundred miles. 1 1 8 I'he Voyage of the Constance. '' Four hundred miles!" said Peter; " that's a long way off three thousand." " I know that ; but it is so wonderful that a little bird can find its way four hundred miles, that, if he does, we may hope he will find it three thousand. Besides, we have read about Captain Ross's pigeon." " Did Captain Ross send one ?" " He did send one from his winter quarters, and it reached its home near Ayr, in Scotland, in five days." "Now let me see," said Peter, who always liked to be accurate : " Captain Ross — he warn't Sir John when I sailed with him, you know. Miss — Captain Ross sent no pigeons when I was aboard of him in the ' Victory,' nor yet after we left our ship and took up our quarters at the beach ; and I never heard tell of his sending one when he went his first voyage in 1818, in the * Isabella.' " " You've told him wrong, Margaret!" cried Edward, to whom the wind had carried the last part of the conversation. " It was Sir James, not Sir John Ross." " Oh, it was Captain James, was it ?" said Peter, looking more interested in the story. " He warn't Sir James when he was in the 'Victory' with us, nor Captain neither; he was Commander James Ross, that was his title, and he was second in command to his uncle, the old gentleman ; only we always called him Captain James, and sometimes Captain Jemmy." " Well, Peter, will you let me go on ? Sir James Ross sent a pigeon from his winter quarters on Leopold Island in 1848." " And it reached its home. Miss Margaret ?" " Yes, in five days ; but it had lost its note from under its wing." ^i gway 3 bird ss, we 3 have md it n to be \ sailed igeons fter we and I is first 'ard, to sation. Doking ; wlien 3r ; be le was ; only aptain Ross [sland lunder The Carrier-pigeon. 9 Peter looked very grave, and sat fin* some time witb bis liend to one side, sometimes muttering a lew words toliim- self, sometimes giving sbort grunts, whicli migbt mean either doubt or approval ; but be ended by saying that if they really thought of trying it, he could make a house or cage of the very best kind for the bird to live in ; and that if they would come down to his shop in the morning, ho would knock up a sort of model for them, to show what he meant. Meanwhile Margaret walked up and down, often looking up at Edward, who only shook his head in reply to her inquiring face. " But the bird don't come back, you see, even this short journey, Miss," observed Peter. " Is this his first journey ? " " Oh, no ! We had him carried only ten miles off the first time, and he was back in his nest in ten minutes after they let him fly. Then we Oh, Edward, Edward, you will kill yourself!" This cry was caused by Edward having let himself drop from the pointed pinnacle where he had been stationed, and come scrambling down to the stable-roof, catching and clinging to pointed bricks and ends of beams. He was now on his way to the pigeon-house on hands and knees, and quickly appeared with Sir Launcelot in one hand, while he waved his cap in triumph with the other. Margaret uttered a cry of joy at the sight. " Did you see him coming ? " " Only when he was quite close. He seemed to fall from the sky. Run in for some peas and some water as fast as you can." " Come down with him then, by the time I come back; that I may kiss the little pet. Come along, Trident !" she ! I ! 10 The Voyage of the Constance. cried, and he bounded off Avith her towards the kitchen door, l^^dward was on tlie terrace, fondlinj:^ his favourite, when she returned. ITcr first care, after tlic kiss, was to hold a bowl of water to its beak. The tired, bird drank long, as if very tliirsly, and then began to pick up tlie peas as fast as possible. He was so tame that when he had finished he nestled in ]\[argaret's hand, ruffling his feathers, and mal%,ing a little cooing sound ; and she and Edward, sitting side by side at the root of a birch-tree, seemed as if they could not caress him enough. Trident stood by with his mouth open and his red tongue hanging out, looking gravely and iiiquii'ingly first in their faces and then at the bird, as if he had some idea of what it all meant, but wished to know more. " But his despatches ! Wo forget them all this time ! " cried Edward. " Come, postman, where's the letter ?" and he raised the pigeon's wing while Margaret held him Avith both hands. Under it was a little note fastened to a silk cord. "All safe, you see! Read it, Edward!" said Mar- garet " Latest date, Aberdeen^ licdf-past eight a.m. 2Iaij Sth, 1853. " Your father left us last night for Edinburgh, and hopes to be home about the same time with your little messenger. It is quite decided that he takes the command of the ' Pole-Star,' which sails from our harbour in a week at farthest. He will, therefore, soon return to us, soon to leave us again. I shall think of you, my dear Edward and Margaret, in the approaching parting, and give my love to your dear mother, and tell her she knows how constantly I think of her. ulVt,.,-^.^,- itclicn ouritc, ,vas to drank ap the he had athers, Iward, )d as if >y with Looking at the wished time ! " •?"and "m. Avith o a silk 4 Mar- iht A.M. rh, and [r little imand a week Isoon to Lrd and llove to Istantly I The Carrier-pigeon . II " Sir Hugh has no faith in our poor little pigeon, hut he sends his lov^c. Your affectionate Aunt, " Mary Armstrong." Both sat for some time witliout speaking ; Edward's fiico flushed ; Margaret's lip quivered, and she could with dilhculty restrain her tears. It was Peter who broke the silence. "It's a wonderful thing now," said he — "a real won- derful thing, how this bird can have found his way. It's not as if he had e'er a compass to guide him, or understood the motion of the sun, like a Christian, or could s-^.y to himself, as he looked down on the earth, ' that's such a town or such a county' even, as if he'd learned geography. I've heard tell of such thinq-s afore, but I never see it afore. It beats me !" " But, Peter," said Edward, " you must have seen, when you were with Captain Ross, the birds of passage, the geese and eider ducks, and all the rest of tliem, flying southward iu great flocks as winter came on, and returning north- Avards in spring. They fly thousands of miles with no guide but their instinct — at least, that is what we call it." " ^^^lijj yes. Master Edward, that's true," said Peter, " I can't gainsay it ; but some way it seems different to me, their flying in great flocks to their winter quarters, and tlieir summer breedinnf-srrounds. First and foremost, they're in flocks, and for all we know, the old ones teach the young ones." " But they are not always in flocks. A solitary petrel IS often seen steadily going his way. There is a pretty little poem of Mary Hewitt's, called ' The Stormy Petrel,' that I will show you, Peter j and if they are in flocks, and T 1 1' 12 77?^ Voyage of the Constance. if they should tell one another, it's no easier to unclerstand. How do they manage to keep on, right straight on ? How do they know that their flight is exactly directed to the right spot ?" " I say again, it beats me," answered Peter. *' Say that other poem to ns, Margaret, will you ?" Edward added ; " that poem of Bryant's that we all liked so much — ' The AVater-Fowl' it was called. Now, Peter, sit down and listen if you don't think it beautiful too." So Peter sat down and listened all attention, while Margaret, taking hold of her brother's hand a little ner- vously with both hers, and keeping Sir Laancelot nestled in her lap, said the poem with great feeling : — " Whither, 'midst fallinf^ dew, Wliile glow the licavens with the last steps of day, Far throup^h their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky. Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean side ? There is a Power, whose care Teaches the way along that pathless coast — The desert and illimitable air — Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere ; Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. liiii. )»» >> The Carrier-pigeon. 13 And soon that toil shall end, Soon shalt thou find a sunnncr homo, and rest And scream amonj:^ thy fellows ; reeds shall bend Soon o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone ; the abyss of lieaveu Ilath swallowed up thy form ; yet on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, , And shall not soon depart. IIo, who, from zone to zone Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright." " It sounds like a message to us, Henry," said a gentle voice behind the group. Peter rose in a moment, touching his cap ; and Edward and Margaret, turning round, saw their father and mother behind them. They started up, and, as they did so, the pigeon flew to his nest on the stable-roof. Mrs. Armstrong was very pale, but she looked quite calm. She leaned on her husband's arm, her hand in his ; and his nandsome, sunburnt face, to which the excitement of his approaching work gave an animated exj)ression, was a strong contrast to her small, delicate features, and the melancholy expression of her eyes. Margaret clasped the arm on which her mother's lay, and hid her face on it ; while Edward seized his father's disengaged hand, and said, eagerly, " All I ask is, take me with you. Think once more, before you refuse me." " Come in, my dear children," said Captain Armstrong. "We will talk over this presently." " Then I may hope r" " I have said we will talk this over presently. My mind is quite made up ; and when we have cd time to go 1 14 T'/'^ Voyage of tLe Constance, over all that I liavc to say, you will uiidcrstaiul inc. Now let lis go in." Tliey obeyed, walking slowly and silentl}' along tlio terrace. Peter liad ali'eady left the place, his native good feeling having taught him tliat the family ouglit not to be intruded upon at this moment. CHAPTER II. AN EVENING AT HOME. The pretty drawing-room into which they stepped from the terrace did indeed justify Peter's wonder that the pos- sessor of such a "jewel-case" should like to leave it to brave danger and hardship. You hardly knevf whether to keep your eyes on the comfort and beauty within, or to look out at the lovely views from the window, through which the delicious scent of the pines and birches, after the rain, came in. But to leave all this was not much trial to Captain Armstrong. His real trial was to leave his wife and children again. Many a time had he left them, and again and again had come back safely to them ; and now he had intended to settle at home for life, and to devote himself to the scientific pursuits in which he took delight, and to his son's education. There, opening out of the drawing-room, was his study, with his books and writing- table, his telescopes and microscopes, and Edward's table by it; a:: 1 in a w^indow Edward's easel, for he was pas- sionately bnd of drawing ; and in the drawing-room were musical i: struments, and books, and pictures. You could see that Liis family, having such tastes, and such a home, Now ig tlic i good b to bo d from ho pos- e it to )ther to n, 01' to li rough tor the trial to iiis wife m, and d now devote eliglit, of the p'iting- |s table IS pas- lii were could home, yfn Evening at Home'. 15 with so beautiful a country around it, were tlioroughly contented witli their lot, and wished for nothing better. But yet the father of this family was going far away oil a perilous voyage, and a voyage in which there could not be much hope to cheer him; for he was going on the search for Sir John Franklin, and it was eight ye.irs sinc^e he had been heard of. It was now the year ISoo, and Franklin's last despatches from Bafiin's IJay were dated July 12, 1845 ; and his first winter quarters on IJccehey Island, in the discovery of which Captain Armstrong had assisted, were the only traces of him since. England, however, had never lost hope, notwithstanding the wiint of success that had attended the numerous and well-appointed expeditions already seiit out. The strong I interest excited for the two missing ships, and their com- I manders and crews of one hundred and forty men, had not I cooled, and was strengthened by the deep sympathy with I Lady Franklin which her never-failing exertions and strong and faithful feeling drew forth. She had, at this period, just sent out her little ship the " Prince Albert'' again, and WIS again waiting in anxious suspense for the result. Captain Armstrong was among those who had the deepest interest for her, and for the many sorrowing, anxious hearts besides, that had waited and hoped so long in vain, lie had, therefore, volunteered on one of the Arctic expedi- tions in 1850, had encouraged his nephew, John Armstrong, a lieutenant in the navy, to go out in the " Investigator" in the same year, and was now ready to start again. The ship which Captain Armstrong was to command belonged to his near relation, Sir Hugh Armstrong, a rich merchant, who had refitted and manned her entirely at his own ex- pense. She was built at Aberdeen for a whaler, and was ' i: ^1 1 6 Thg Voyage of the Constance, now further strengthened, and had received on board all the stores necessary for the service for which she was des- tined, and provisions for two years. Sir Hugh had per- sonally known Sir John Franklin, as well as two or three of his officers, and was enthusiastic in the cause of finding them ; so that when Captain Armstrong voluntarily off'ered to command the " Pole-Star" (so his new ship was chris- tened), he joyfully accepted the offer, knowing that no man was better fitted for the task, from his long experience and well-known energy and promptitude. The . lute to be fol- lowed Sir Hugh had trusted to himself, and he had no hesita- tion about which to choose. He had a strong feeling that one especial region had been neglected, and ought to be explored. Our party was assembled after tea in the library. On tho table, charts and maps of the Arctic regions were spread, and Captain Armstrong was to show them his intended route and his reasons for taking it. " You must first find and observe well," said he, " the last place to which we have traced Franklin — his winter- quarters in the winter of 1845 to 1846." " Here it is," said Edward — " Beechey Island and Cape Eiley." " There he was, you see, at the entrance of Regent's Inlet to the south, Barrow Strait and Melville Sound to the west, and Wellington Channel to the north. The question is, as he left no word to guide us, which route he took in search of his object — the discovery of the north-west passage to the Pacific Ocean." Mrs. Armstrong sighed. " It is sad to think," said she, *' how little the discovery will be worth Avhen it is made — if, indexed, it ever is made — an ice-encumbered passage througli a stormy sea." oard all was des- lad per- or three • finding y offered IS chris- ■j no man ence and ,0 be fol- io liesita- rtliat one explored, ary. On ons were them his he, " the Avinter- and Cape Regent's nd to the question e took in arth-west said she, nade — if, ) through Jn Evening at Home. 17 "Ah! but then it is so hateful to be baffled," cried Edward : "it would never do to give it up." " But," said Captain Armstrong, " we have given up any idea of its being of use long ago, except as a matter of knowledge. When the search began, the Portuguese and Spaniards wore stronger on the seas than England, and treated as pirates all English ships which sailed on any of the seas over which they had power. As Columbus had discovered America, and Vasco de Gama had found the route to India by the Cape of Good Hope, it was natural that England should try to get at these great regions some- liow. So, as they could not be reached by the south witliout figliting (which, however, our forefathers were not slow to do), they tried for a quicker way by the north, which should be all their own." "You promised me, papa," said Margaret, going to the back of his chair and putting her arms round his neck, " that you would teach me all about that, and you never have." " Did I, my little girl ? Well, then, I am sure I ought to keep my word." " Margaret will not let me teach her the history of Arctic adventure," said ]Mrs. Armstrong, smiling; "she always says, ' Papa is going to d^ that.' " " I've often heard you talk about it in little bits, you know, papa ; but I want to know how it all was." " And I should like, my little girl, to know how much the ' mariners of England ' have added to our knowledge of the earth. There can be no knowledge much more inte- resting to us than the truth concerning the world our [Creator has given us for a dwelling-place. You are very [fond of geojraphv, I know, Maggie." 2 \i \ r I i i I- ! 1 8 The Voyage of the Constance. " Yes, I like it tlae best of all my lessons, papa." "Well, then, the searcli for tins passage by the north, from England to the Paeific Ocean, has been one great means of making us accurate geographers. Come round, and sit close by me, where you can see the map well, and I will show you what people believed when the search began." "You have taught Edward, haven't you, papa?" " Yes, Edward understands it pretty well, and now jon shall also. Look in the map, and find one of the large Russian rivers towards the eastern frontier of Europe." " Here is the river Obi." "That will do. Well, it was in Queen Elizabeth's time, about three hundred years ago, that Sir Hugh Willoughby was sent Avitli three little ships, with orders to coast the north of Europe and ascend some large Russian river to its source, and so reach Cathay, by which they meant China." "Why, then, they knew nothing of all this immense continent of Asia, papa. They thought China was at the east side of Europe." " Yes, and poor Sir Hugh Willoughby did not make them any wiser. He never came home again ; and some Russian sailors found his three ships some years afterwards imbedded in ice, with all their crews in them frozen to death." " That was very dreadful." " Soon afterwards, in 15G7, Martin Frobisher set off to the westward, to undertake, as they said then, * the only great thing left undone in the world,' the discovery of the north-west passage to India." " How many great things that they never dreamed of have been done in the world since ! " said Mrs. Armstrong} "and the north-west passage is not found yet ! " J north, Q great round, 1, and I beGran." >> low you le large )pe " 5J li's time, loughby oast the 'er to its China." [mmense IS at the )t make id some icrwards 'ozen to 3t off to |he only of the tmed of [strong ; ■:i An Evening at Home. 19 " Yes, how true that is ! and so it constantly is ! Men set about striving for one thing with all their energy and cnnnot find it, but find some other thing, perhaps much more important." •' And that is encouragement to us all to work and not to be idle, for if we fail in what we strive to do we may yet do something." *' And what did Martin Frobisher do ?" asked Margaret. " He sailed across the Atlantic, and nearly reached Hudson's Bay." *• Look, Margaret," said Edward, " this was where he got to — 'Frobisher's Strait,' it is called after him." "When he n-ot there he thoun^ht the land on one side was America and on the other Asia, and that he had nearly reached India." " Then ho knew nothing of all this northern part of America," said Margaret, " stretching out all this long way. ^ People thought the world was a very little place to what it l| really is. I remember that Columbus believed he had come '^ to the east coast of Asia when he discovered America." *' Yes, he did, and it was quite natural. It was not till ^ twenty years afterwards that Balboa saw the great Pacific I Ocean from a mountain in the Isthmus of Darien, and J|made his way down to its shores, and watched to see if it f had tides and was indeed an ocean like the Atlantic, and I tasted its waters to find out if they were salt." J "Mamma read about that to me, papa, and how he waded in with his drawn sword and took possession of the 'ocean in the name of his master the King of Spain." " The great ocean cared little for that," said Edward. "Balboa had done exactly what your mamma observed |as so often happening. He had made a grand discovery, It 1 1 ■ i 20 The Voyage of the Constance. though he utterly failed in making the King of Spain lord and master of the Pacific Ocean. In ten years more Magellan sailed round the world, going westward by Cape JTorn, and the Portuguese had long before doubled the Cape of Good Hope." " They knew much more about the world to the south flK.n to the north," said Edward. " I cannot chink what form they imagined it was of." " They were in entire confusion about it. AVhen one of those Spanish discoverers first crossed the equator and lost sight of the polar star, the sailors were in great alarm, and believed that some vast height hid it from their view. Tho3' had no idea that the earth was a globe, and that they had passed so far south on its surface as to have got into its southern hemisphere, or ' half-globe,' which is the meaning of that long word." "And wlio went after Martin Frobisher?" asked Mar- garet. "A number of hardy, adventurous men sailed with various fate to the north-west, the greater number never to return ; but the most important discoveries were made by Davis, Hudson, and BafRn. The last sailed in 161G." " Look, Margaret," said Edward ; " you see on the map Hudson's Bay, Davis' Straits, and Baffin's Bay : they are named after the men who discovered them. See what great lines of coast and large seas they explored ! " " But though Baffin sailed round this great baj', he did not find out any of these sounds leading to the north and west," said Captain Armstrong. " He, like everybody else, thouglit that he was near Asia, and the western shore was named 'Hope Checked,' because it seemed to close him in, where he expected to find Japan." ain lord rs more by Cape Died the le south ak what n one of and lost irm, and ir view, hat they got into is the ed Mar- cd with never to ade by G." [the map hey are e what ,, he did pth and dy else, lore was him in, An Evening at Home. 21 " But when we come to Captain Cook's voya^^cs we lind much more sense about it, father," said Edward. " lie knew better than to fancy Japan was opposite to Greenland." " Oh, yes ; his voyages were made towards the end of the eighteenth century, and by that time great advances had been made in knowledge. Our hardy sailors had found it easier to conquer their enemies than to make tlieir way throufjh the ice. En":land was fast bccominfj: the n-reatcst naval power in the w^orld ; her ships could sail everywhere, and a northern passage was no longer sought for the pur- poses of commerce, only for the sake of finding out the truth. Captain Cook sailed through Behring's Straits, but he made no progress in the Arctic seas. lie turned back at the first sight of the ice. Still, no one after his time could be ignorant of the great distance that really exists between Behring's Strait and Baffin's Bay, though whether it was land or ocean, ice or water, no one knew." " Horatio Nelson went on an Arctic voyage when he was a boy," said Mrs. Armstrong. " It was in 1773," said Edward ; " I remember that ; as coxswain of the ' Carcase,' under Captain Phipp?, but they were turned back by the ice to the north of Spitzbergen." "And who tried after Captain Cook ?" asked Margaret. "The next attempt of any importance," replied her father, "was made by Captain Ross in 181S, witii the * Isabella and Alexander.' He, however, only coasted the shores of Baffin's Bay, took it for granted, like Baffin himself, that Smith's and Jones' Sounds were enclosed by land, and, after sailing a little way up Lancaster Sound, imagined he saw a ridge of mountains stretching across the passage, so he turned back and came home." "Now then we come to Parry I" cried Edward, settling ir f %' I 22 The Voyage of the Constance, liiuibclf at tlio table with the cliart of tlic Arctic seas bcforo hi in. " Yes, now we come to Pany. Ho was second in com- mand to Captain Ross the year before, nnd was sent out in 181C' to ascertain the f vuth as to the mountains in Lancaster Sound. He sailed in the ' Hecla,' with the * Griper ' as consort. This is his course. He crossed the ice of Baffin's Bay and entered Lancaster Sound. Tlie mountains had melted into air. He sailed through a broad channel free of ice for sixty miles. He was soon beyond the range of any former navigator. Then began great excitement on board. The mast-heads were crowded by the officers. There were constant reports from the crow's nest." " You know what that is, Margaret ?" asked Edward. " A round-shaped house like a tub at the mast-head for the look-out man," answered she. Edward nodded approvingly. "They explored and named Regent's Channel to the south, but were stopped by ice, and returned to the main channel. They reached 80^ west longitude, ' Land ahead ! ' shouted the look-out man.'' "What a pity !" sighed Margaret. " It proved to be only an island." " I am so glad of that ! " " This island they named after Prince Leopold, now King of Belgium. It had high mountains and most remarkable cliffis, like columns, which is indeed the form of many of the rocks thereabouts. Flocks of sea-birds, flying eastward, passed overhead ; this they took as a sign of open sea to westward. Narwhales, seals, and whales, crowded the waters. Englishmen were invading their world for the first time." m ^ seas before )nd in coin- sent out in 1 Lancaster Griper ' as i of Baffin's mtains liad :liannel free le range of ;itemcnt on he officers. St." d Edward, ist-licad for rmel to the the main .nd ahead ! ' opold, now and most the form of lirds, flying a sign of d whales, ding their An Evening at Home. 23 " What are narwhales?" asked Marnfaret. " A small kind of whale, with one tooth so much longer tlian the other — for narwhales have only two teeth — that it stands out like a horn, and so sailors often call it the unicorn fish. Now I must tell you about the compass. You know what the mariner's compass is ? " " Yes, you showed me the compass in your ship, and there is one under my globe. The needle always points to tlie north." " Bat the needle in Parry's compass, when he reached 89°, no longer pointed to the north. It only pointed to tlie iron in his shiji, and was therefore of no use to steer his course by." " He was within 8" of the magnetic pole, that was the reason," said Edward. Margaret shook her head at him and looked reproacliful. " I know, I know, ]\Iaggie ; I promised to tell you all about that, 'but I will, really, to-morrow — at least, all I know myself," Eilward added, more humbl}', encountering a look of amused inquiry in his father's eye. ■' Well, then, what did Parry do without his compass ?" asked Margaret. " He sailed still westward with land on either hand, sometimes thron^'h a thick fosf without sinfht of sun or star, so that Avith no compass he could only trust to the steady east wind and to careful sounding. You know what 1 mean by sounding ?" " Yes, papa ; throwing a piece of lead fastened to aline down into the sea to try how deep it is, and if it is safe for the ship to sail without fear of rocks or sands, or getting too near the shore." " Quite right, Maggie. Perhaps no one had ever sailed ^ ; 24 The Voyage of the Constance. so since very old times when sailors had first begun to ven- ture on unknown waters. Ho named the land that lay on his right North Devon, and that on liis left North Somerset ; then discovered and named Wellington Channel. Soon afterwards he was stopped by ice, but it was found to be loose, and he bored through." "What does 'he bored through' mean?" asked Mar- garet. " Boring means forcing a ship through ice under a press of sail. It can only be done when the ice is much broken." " He landed on and named Byam Martin Island. Here there were ruins of Esquimaux huts, and traces of reindeer and musk-oxen. Wlien he reached 110° west. Parry an- nounced to his crews that they had become entitled to the king's bounty of live thousand pounds, the first in the scale of rewards promised to success in westward progress. Then he passed and named Melville Island, but he could only go a very little farther ; the ice was fast gathering, it was Sep- tember, and winter had already set in. He was obliged to turn back and get into harbour on the south-east side of Melville Island." "Here it is, AVinter Harbour," said Margaret, pointing to the chart. " The ice had gathered so fast round the coast that they had to cut a lane through it of nearly two miles in length, through which they dragged the ships to get them into safety. The men were in high spirits through the winter, and hoped to get out in spring, go on westward, and spend the next winter in the South Sea Islands. The decks were housed over with canvas, and the ships made into warm habitations. They observed regular order and duty, but n to vcn- at lay on somerset ; d1. Soon nd to be ked Mar- under a is much d. Here ' reindeer ?arry an- ed to the the scale 3s. Then 1 only go was Sep- 1 ^liged to ;. t side of ! 1 pointing | hat they '^ . length, em into winter, id spend iks were warm 11 ty, but ; Jin Evening at Home, 25 had plenty of amusement. They acted plays, got up a newspaper, had games and exercises. They also explored ilie island in spring, and discovered these islands to the north, making correct charts of all." " I recollect," said Edward, " Parry tells what good spirits the men had, and describes how, when they had to drag a cart loaded with fuel and provisions, on one of the exploring parties, they set a blanket on it for a sail when tlie wind was favourable, and another for a mainsail when it got on the larboard quarter." " He kept them in excellent health and spirits in winter, but his hopes for spring were disappointed. Jle could not get his ships out till August, then he steered for the west, but he only reached 112\ There he found the sea choked with ice of immense thickness. The Hoes — I mean the flat lields of ice — were from Ibrty to fifty feet thick. His ships received such shocks that he dared not venture farther, ile was obliged to turn back, and he reached England in November, 1820." "How I wish he could have got on fiirther ! " said Margaret. " But you see what an extent of sea he had sailed through, and how much he had added to our knowledge in that one voyage," said Captahi Armstrong ; and as ho said so he again traced Parry's course on the chart. " He made a second voyage in 1821, in the ' Hecla,* with the ' Eury,' commanded by Captain Lyon, the purpose this time being to seek a north-west passage farther south. It was supposed that Regent's Inlet might communicate with Hudson's Bay. Parry therefore sailed to Hudson's Bay, reached its northern shores, and minutely examined all the region you can trace on the chart in this direction," 111 I i i| 26 The Voyage of the Constance, said Captain Armstrong, pointing to tlic place. " South- ampton Island, Repulse Bay, and Frozen Strait, ^vintering on the south of Melville Peninsula : bat ho was not the discoverer [of the greater part of this portion of the Arctic seas. They had been explored by Captain ]\Iiddle- ton seventy-nine yeart^ before. Parry and Lyon met witli a very interesting tribe of E.srpnmaux on this occasion, from whom they got information of the coast tliat they found to be correct. Wherever discoverers have gone they have found, thinly scattered on the shores of the Arctic seas, tribes of that peculiar race we call Esquimaux, but who call themselves Innuit." *' Are they good, gentle people, papa ?" " Generally. If they arc mot with in large numbers they are apt to be noisy and turbulent, and they are nearly all thieves. But then we must remember that a ship con- tains on every side objects that are more precious to them than gold to us, I mean wood and iron." "And how do they live in tho^•o cold countries?" *' They are bold and expert hunters of seal, walrus, and bears ; but they have no foresight, and spend their time between want and over-abundance. On the whole, they are wonderfully cheerful, even merry." " Then Parry made friends with that tribe, papa, I suppose. And did he and Captain Lyon stay out there two winters ?" " They remained out there two winters, but on the third summer were obliged to return without success, finding no >> passage. " You must now," he continued, "in order to see what has been done since that time, look at this northern coast of America, bordered by the Arctic Sea, from Melvillo lattafea " South, wintcrinp^ IS not tlio m of tho n ;MiJtllo- mot witli occasion, tliat tlicy gone they lie Arctic naux, but ! numbers are nearly L ship con- is to them s?" alms, and leir time hole, they I, papa, I out there the third linding no see what )rn coast Melvillo I An Evening at Home. 27 Peninsula to Point Barrow. The greater part of this long lino of const has been explored. Sir John Franklin, to- gether with Richardson, Bach, and a party of men, who all deserve the name of heroes for their courageous endurance of hardships and sufferings, explored the coast eastwards from the Coppermine River for five hundred and lil'ty miles ; tlicy were obliged to give it up at that point, after losing several of their number from famine. Franklin, notwith- standing, volunteered in 1825 to conduct another expedition to these shores." " It was like his hopefulness and energy to do so," said Mrs. Armstronn*. *' It was, and he was nobly seconded. Bach and Richardson went with him again. They took much larger provisions this time, and had great success. They travelled through North America to tho Mackenzie River, which they traced to the sea, and wintered at Fort Franklin, on the shores of Bear Lake." "I have found the place," said Edward, showing it to Margaret. " Early in the summer they divided, and in parties of two boats each, started in different directions. On tho 21st of September the two parties met again at Fort Frank- lin in health and safety, the western party having explored the coast for two thousand and forty-eight miles, tho eastern for one thousand nine hundred and eighty. Deaso and Simpson, two officers of the Hudson's Bay Company, which is a company trading in furs, have farther carried on this work. We now want only that portion towards Bchring's Strait, which wc may hope the expedition in went out may succeed in si S I] lay ^eyi (( There is still a part here in the map, papa, that you ^ '^ nil! . 28 The Voyage of the Constance* liavc not told us aLout," sjiid ^Margaret ; " I mean Boothia and King William's Land." " This region was partly discovered by Captain Lyon in 1624, partly by Parry in his third voyage, and partly by Koss," said Captain Armstrong. " It was in that voyage of Parry's, in 182 l-, that the * Fury' was wrecked off the shore of North Somerset, I think, father," said Edward. " Peter Greely tells many a story about her stores." '* Oh, yes ; when Parry found that the ' Fury' was really a wreck, and that her crew must come on board the * Hecla,' he ordered all her stores, that he had no room for, to be landed, and left for the use of any future expedition, or for the Esquimaux if they came that way." " By the by, I am sorry to interrupt you," said Mrs. Armstrong, " but Peter has been waiting in the kitchen for a long time to see you. He has something particular to ask you, ho says. I therefore told him to sit down till you could attend to him." "May we call him in?" said Edward. " Do ask him. to tell us some of his adventures with Captain Ross." "If we do," said Captain Armstrong, " and Peter begins some of his stories, we shall not have much more time to go on with our maps ; but I can finish what I am telling my little Maggie to-morrow evening, so call him in if you Mke." " He is so amusing," said Edward, jumping up to go for him. " I think, too, I should like to ask him as to the amount of game, or animal life of any kind, in Boothia ; so bring him in." ii 1 29 CHAPTER III. AN OLD SAILOU'S RECOLLKCTIONS. Petku wns soon in tlio room, and having mado his bow, stood by tho door, cnp in hand. "Well, Grcoly, what do you want to say to mc?" asked C iptain Armstrong. " Why, I've been thinking, as I hear you're soon to bo afloat ogain, that I should like to go aboard of you, Captain, in the ' Pole-Star,' and try my luck among tho ice agfiin." " I won't take you, Peter. You don't know when you're well off. What would you have ? You have a good wife, a comfortable cottage, and tho best business of the village as a carpenter. It is quite enough to have been out five years as you were." " Four years and four months, short o' five days, Cap- itaiii. We weighed anchor in the 'Victory,' off Woolwich, I the 23rd of May, a.d. 1829, and reached the Humbcr |aboard the ' Isabella' of Hull, the 18th of September, 1833." " It was quite long enough, at all events, Peter. I know Jtlicre is not a better ship's carpenter than you. It is not Jthat I should not like to have you, but I am too much your friend to unsettle you. Now I want you to tell me what 'ou found good to eat in Boothia. Was there much game ?" " Plenty o' bears." " And they are good eating when a man is hungry ?" " As to that I won't say, but it would never do to eat ^cm. They make men mad." " What story is that you have got up ?" " It's true — so they tell me. The men as eat them all go lad ; or if they don't, they die when they get home." M I 30 The Voyage of the Constance. " Did you ever try ?" " Oil, yes ; I ate bits o' them myself many times when wo were on short allowance, and that was wonderful often." "And you did not go mad or die ?" " I an't mad nor dead yet." *' Then you did hunt the bears ?" " Oh, yes, we did. Captain James was an excellent shot, and he killed a good many, but he got into a critical point once. lie was out by himself, and four bears all came 2^rowling round at once. He didn't shoot that time. He said to the bears, * You let alone and I'll let alone,' and cut away as hard as he could." " But had you no birds there ?" " Plenty of dovekeys. They're natives of Ireland, and come first. They're signs of open water. We shot them often, and they're good eating. One day I was out with Captain James (we always called him Captain James, though he warn't captain then), and he shot a dovekey, and it fell in a pool. So I got on a piece of floating ice, and paddled out on it with a boat-hook, and raked the bird on the ice witli it. They were flying all round my feet, hundreds of 'em. So Captain James says, ' Now, don't budge ! Stop where you are, and collect my birds.' So he shot numbers, and never hit me ; and I brought 'em all safe ashore on my ice. It was a critical point to land 'em, for pieces of ice like that is apt to turn the turtle with you v/hen you go to get off 'em. I tell you, to show you what a good shot he was." " But had you no other birds ?" " We'd grouse." *' Ptarmigan, I suppose?" " Yes ; they were mostly white D^nd grey, and they mostly went for the sick. I once had a strange game out shooting. It was our second summer, and the ice was U El sisi-yyi * Jn Old Sailor'' s Recollections. 31 s when wo L often." L excellent a critical rs all came time. He e,' and cut •eland, and shot til em ,s out with les, though and it fell d paddled on the ice ndreds of ffe ! Stop numbers, ore on my of ice like to get off e was." and they ame out ice was riving way, and we was watching it for signs that we could ret out. A\'^o could have got out, bless you ! They didn't vant to get out — that was it — not tlie first season, that is ; they wanted to make more discoveries. I don't mean to say they v/oulJu'o have got out if they could the next year. 50 says I to Barny Wood, one of our seamen, ' Barny,* says I, ' come and we'll have a pull before we start.' I )nly sliotone grouse. Presently we heard, ' Come aboard !' 't v.as just like their speaking-trumpets — and 3'ou hear a Wonderful way across the ice. Barny says, ' The ship's a sailin' out.' * No,' I says,' they'll not go without us, or they'll send a boat back for us.' ' Come aboard !' again. I looked about me, and saw a large bird, and soon saw it was lim as made the noise. I shot him, and he was beautiful Miting, and weighed nine pounds. He was an Arctic lawk." "You must have had other birds ?" '• Yes — gulls and kittiewakes j and fish we had." "AVhatfish?" " Salmon. "We caught an immense shoal in our nets." "What I of salmon?" " Salmon trout, tlie}^ were. "We dried numbers, and lunibei's we spoiled with vardegris." "Why, hoNv did you manage that ?" '* Ijoiling 'cm v/ith vinegar in the copper kittles, by way )f pickling them.'* " After all, then, it was the ' Furj^'s' stores that Parry left on the beach that supported you all those five — I mean lour— years." " So it was, and we had short allowance, too, I can tell •", for all the canisters o' preserved meat and j.11 the bar- rels ()' Hour we got hold on. I fared among the best. I =ed often to have sawdust puddeu." ifl 32 77;^ Voyage of llie Coyistance. " Not very nourishing, I sliould think," said Edward, laughing. " There I bog your pardon, Master Edward. I had the job of sawing the frozen meat when tlie canisters was broke open, and v^ery good puddens the sawdust made, mixed with a httle flour." All agreed that such sawdust would be very good indeed. *' Yes, it was better than our soup — pea-soup — a pint of peas to a gallon of water, three parts fresh, one part salt, to flavour it. Fox is jxood eatino:. We often killed foxes." " Did you never kill seals ? You had plenty of them, surely." " Oh, yes, plenty o' seals. Wc used to see them on tlio ice, each close to his hole. They always keeps near their holes, and down ^\^j pops at the least alarm. We f^cu""!! not shoot many. We should just have starved :va..A the stores. We helped ourselves to them at the first arrival. There they were — piled-up barrels of meat, barrels of flour, tin canisters, no end o' them. They were our mainstay the two first rears. Then our third summer, when wc abandoned the ship, despairing of ever getting her out of the ice, we went forward with cur sledges to cfet to Eurv Beach. That was the name they gave to the part of the eoast where the stores la3^" " You left the ' Victory' farther south ?" " Yes, we bid our good-bye to the poor old * Victor}- ' the 29th of May, 183:1 We had landed and secured all the stores we could not carrv forward as well as we coulu. I know where my tool-chest lays now. Then wo nailed the colours to the mast, and left her. So Captain James said he'd go with a flying part}', to see if the stores was safe still ; * Eor,' says he, ' if not, we needn't go on, but /n An Old Sill lor s Rtiollcctiyris. ?>?> id Edward, I had the 1 was broke ade, mixed ood indeed. ) — a pint of e part salt, lied foxes." ;y of them, hem on the 5 near their AVe r.cuW 2Cy ..-iih.at irst arrival. Is of flour, mainsta}' when wc ler out of -J to Fury art of the * Victory ' ecured all we coulu. wo nailed ain James itores wns o on, but V iriav inst as well shoot one another.' So ho wcrJ, jr.nl Ic iluld US lic'd coiiio ].>;ic!v to nioet us, and, if it was al! riiidu, I Mc slionld see the i'ag" llyin^-. So, tlie second day, w(' ^cf |hiai CdHiiiiL;'. Xo ilaij; ! We all stopped a dead stop. ' It's I no '_;•(),' says one. ' I won't i)u!l n ) h)ii'j'er,' savs anot'ici-. I'Wlial's the use on't r' says a ihii'd. ' Comi^ on — h^'.'s laert. liini, anv way,' savs a foiirtli. AVhile we were all tstandinir, up LToes tlio ilaji" I We pulled a [rood ':in, y^a imav he sure, then ; and he'd brou<^ht some linie-juico, and *soiiie of the bread and meat eanist'.^'s back. We LTot on pist after that." I " How lon^" did it take you to make this journey with lyour loaded sled^i^es r"' '• We reached Fury ]>ea(di on the 1st of Jalv, arid a, •|go<)d sappier we had that niglit oil the stores that was llyin^jr scattered about. It was a heavv journey )io\' liall- biai'vcd men, dmo'o-Inr,- loaded sledLL'cs and boats ; foi- we draiiu'ed our boats the bio-'^est. i)arL of tlie wav, and lefr tliciii witldn reach, in case wc found the ' Turv's ' l)cat-> IWas o-oiKj/' ;J '• Voa were in a dreadful situation, Peter, without u- ;^hij), in that dreary jilacc, nearly three thousand miles tVoui 'mome r" 'f ..^ " We }<-rr<: in a critical point. All we had for it was {^\ \^'' in oui- boats to liallin's Ikiy, tothe t"ackof the whalers, Kit: iioi)(.'s of being picked up ; that was the idea of It.'" '' The distance is between two and thrjc hundred miles, ; t''ddc." " Ves, about that." " ^ ou had nt)t been for2:otten in hhi-jland, you know, 'onmiuuder Uacli had yolunteered to iv" to vour rescue in ' ^^ . > . > M I' ii It! 1 :■ 1 ' 34 T'he Voyage of the Constance. " So we liCcarcl afterwards, but wc did not know it then." "You made your escape in tlie 'Fury's' boats, I think?" " Yes, we did. The ' Fury' iicrself was clean gone — not a trace of her left." " But you did not make your escape that year ?" "Ko, no — we were baffled in that. The ice opened by the 1st of August, so as to let us put off in the boats, and we beat our way along the coast to the north-eastern point of North Somerset, as it is named ; but there was nothing to be seen but solid ice in the direction of Barrow's Strait. It never opened, and we had to go back to the beach." "WL. J •' pity it seems to go back ngam!" said Ed- ward. "There was nothing else for it but starvation," said Peter, " What birds or animals there was there had gone soutli for the winter. We suffered enou^'h while we waited. We didn't take tlie boats back all the way ; we left them at Batty Bay. You'll see, on the map, that's halfway, if you look." " Then, when you got back to Fury Beach, you built a canvas house?" said Edward. *' No, we had made it before, but we wintered in If. Somerset House we called it. We found a fox had taken up his abode in it, but he soon cut off." " It must have been very cold in a canvas house," saiJ Margaret. " Xo, miss ; because, don't you understand, it got'coated with snow ; and we pik^d the snow up the Avails — that was the idea of it. And then we had plenty of coals : the beach was lined with the coals left b}' the ' Fur} .' We had a 9i\ til til bii S> An Old Sailor^ s Recollections. 35 it know it ' boats, I Gfone — not ir?" opened l)y boats, and stern point as nothing )\v's Strait. )each." :" said Ea- ' said Peter, rrone sontli -aited. ^\ ft them at ,vay, if you 'ou built a }red in if. Ihad taken 1') a mse, san Icot'coated -that -was [oals : tl We hac 10 ft ^-ood stove in the middle, red-hot ; and there we cooked, find we slept in bnnks — Captain Ross, Captain James, and the doctor and purser at one end, and, at first, all of us on the ground, with our feet to the stove ; afterwards we had bunks too." "I dare say you made yourselves tolerably comfortable," Baid Captain Armstrong, "especially after your sufferings find hardships in the attempt to escape. You must have Ibad a great deal to endure then." " ]\[ost from cold, more even than hunger, I think ; and Somerset House seemed like home to us." " I want to hear all the story of your escape next season, ;Oreely," said Captain Armstrong. " Come and sit down, and give it to n&. There is a very meagre account published." Peter took the chair Edward handed to him, willingly. vTlicrc was nothing he liked better than to talk over his old ltd ventures. % "I shall recollect all about that," he began, " as long as % live. You sec we had left the boats, as I said, at Batty ^ay the year before." ;| " We have now got to the spring of 183;3, then ?" said "l^dward. I " Yes. Well, now, we had to make journeys all through play and Juno, to carry forward provisions and stores to l^hc boats on sledges, you understand. We left them, and Returned for more. At night wo pitched a tent, and slept inder it; then went on again. After a few journeys, we ^ad a good road. We chopped the ice down, and made a inipike road. AVhen the bonts were all ready and loaded, U'li the tiling was to see the ice give way." "You must have looked anxiously indeed for that," said [rs. Armstronrr. \v\ f' 36 TJ)e Voyage of the Consta}icc. *' We used to (fo out and look from tlic lii^'li ground, and liavc to return and wait. Wc could sco tlio liiiih land on the opposite side of J logout's Inlet. That was where we wantofi to be; that was the laud o' plenty — the land o' promise we called it. At last — loth of August it was — a lead opened to the nor'ard. We whips the boats in, struck our tents, and got oil." ]\[argarct asked if a lead meant a lane of water in tlic ice, and was answered that she was right. "How many boats had you?"' asked Captain Arm- strong. " AVe had three. We were divided into three com- panies. Thei'e was sixteen of us altogotlior, I think. Captain Ross commanded one party, Captain James another, and the doctor and purser the third. I belonged to Captniii James's ])arty, and we were called the pirates, be ause ^lie old gentleman used to call him Paul Jono's : I don't know for wliy." " Well, then, you pulled along throuu'h the lead ?" "Yes. We — tlie pirates, I moan — were ahvays ahead. "I should have thought Captain Uoss's boat would have led," said Kdw^ird. " Xo. ][is men diel not pull together as we did.'' '•How was til at?" " Well, I can't .*^ay. We had our ])ipes, and they hadn"i. The old gentleman and the doctor and purser, they wouldn't have no smoking aboarel ; so we used to let 'eia start lirst, and then wc cut past, shaking the baccy bag at 'em, and " " Well, now, you're afloat," saiel Cnjitain xVrmstrong'. "Go on, Peter." " AVe wore to steer for a certain hummock : that's a kiiul Ukn An Old Sailor s Recollections. 'S7 'oiTiid, and iuid on the we wantcil (roniiso wo id opent'il our tents, iter In tlic ;ain Anii- irec coni- I tliink, 3S anotlicr, to Captain ceause ^\w Dn't know 3ad ?" s ahead, ould liavL' .id."' V liadn't. -er, tlifv o let 'eiii cy bag- at •nistronL;'. t's a kiiui of pile of broken ice, ]\[l.ss Marfraret ; but ni^-bt came on, ;iii(l tiK'n ri:ood-l)ye to the bnmniock. ^Ve rowed all Tiiirlit, tlie bcautifullest ni^bt I ever see. I'o see tbe sun set ! Wo nulled seventv-fivc miles; if we bad liad davli;i:bt, Ave couldn't bave d(nu) it better; and we bmded at Cape York. I'm tellinir you -wionu', tbouu'b : wc landed oiu) ni^-bt before tliaf. Any v/ay, we rowed acros.'? the strait, and got to Cape York." " Now, tben, you were fairly in J>arrow's Strait," said KJward. "Here is Cape York, a little to the eastward of the entrance to Itep^ent's Inlet." '■ We bad breakfast in tbe boats ; got tbe kittles under weiLrli, and landed to rest. We bad bcaw rain tlu.t wetted us to the skin, but no matter. We tbouglit wo were in lieavcn and tbe boly land. We were allowed an extra supply of meat. We landed another night at Admiralty Jnlet, and ])itcbed our tents near a little stream." " Then you never slept in the boats r" asked Kdward. " Xo, no, we always Lmdcd. Sleeping in the boats would sooti have doubled us up ; but we had a bad job that night. Found tbe tide was making roiuid us, and the litUe stream was become the river Jordan, so we liadto flitch up higher. We called it river Jordan, because we were in the land o' promise. I think wo stayed there three days. The beach there was strewed with round balls of ice just like cannon- balls." '■ You started on the loth of August," said Captain Armstrong, " Where bave you got to now r" " Well, we got to Xavy Board Inlet by the 2tjth, crossed it, and found a harbour, where we hauled up the hoats. AV'o were pretty idgh knocked up, and on short allowance. Next day morning, the -<Jtli it was, David i'-V i ! \ I i!i» 38 The Vnyagc of the Constanec. Wood culled mc, bocuuso I liad the wateli. We slept in the tout in our blanket-bags, every man in his bag, liead to feet." "IIow do you mean, Peter P" asked Edward. •' Wliy, look here. Master Edward ; this was tlio idea of it, We'll say this pencil is a man tied up in a blanket-bag. Here's the lead ; this is his head coming out 8' the bag. Here's tlie feet at t'other end. This ere pen's another man in a bag; the neb's his head ; the feather's his feet. There wo lay 'em side by side, head to feet; don't you understand ?" " Quite," said Edward, laughing. " AV^e'd no room to spare. We reckoned if a man had room for his feet he'd room for his body. That morning — the 2Gth, as I said — David Wood stept in a hurried manner over me. His idea was io get at the telesco[)e that was in the })ocket of the tent over my head. His doing so made me throw out my boots and dress on the beach, and I always had to pull off my jacket, because my bag was so small. David Wood thought he saw a ship ; that was the idea he had when he came for the telescope. I shoved on my boots, and I could see it too." " AVhat did you feel like, Peter, at such a sight ?*' cried Edward. "We called up Captain James," said Peter, who never allowed anything to disturb his calmness. " He woke up and says, 'What's there ?' I says, 'A ship, sir.' He stepped on, and as soon as he puts the telescope to his ej'c, he sings out, ' A ship a-lioy !' At this, all came tumbling out o' the tents in their bags. They'd a' done better if they had got out o' their bags before they came out o' the tents, but they didn't." " What a state of mind they must all have been in ! I Jn Old Sailor^ s RccollectiGns. 39 slept ill , head to 10 idea of dvet-baj^. the bag. another his fuet. un't you nan had irniniT — manner \j was in o made . always small, idea he boots, ' cried never ap and epped sings L( o' the I got they 1 suppose they got out of their bags fast enough," said Kdward. "You may be sure of that. The over-night Captain lloss's boat leaked, and had to be pulled high and dry ashore to be mended. Word was given now, ' All hands launch boats I' Over-night we had to luff tackle purchase to hoist her up, but now we shoved her off in a few minutes ; walked lier along as easy as if she was empty. Next, word was given, ' Strike tents !' ' Ay, ay, sir !' Orders executed in a crack. I got my lire alight, stove red-hot, and coffee boiled. Captain iloss had gone on the hills to burn a canister of damaged powder as a signal. ' Stow the boats !' was next word. Executed as before. Xo time for the coffee. By this time Captain Iloss had come down again, and there was a consultation." " His signal had not been answered," said Captain Arm- strong. " There was no time for coifee, Greely." " You're right, sir. ' Get your oars out and pull after the ship,' was the next word. ' Xow,' says Captain James to liis men, ' don't you leave the beach till the others have left. Tins is to be a day of reality. Mind no signals from the other boats.' You see this was the thing. When Captain Kosb wanted to recall us, or make any signal to us, he had his bucket hauled up the mast. ' To-day,' says Captain James, ' nobody shall recall us ; this is to be a day of reality.' The instant the others left the beach we commenced pulling. As soon as we started, we got a-head. Up goes the bucket. 'Bucket is up, sir!' 'There let it hang!' — that was his answer. Soon after, report of a musket. ' Ah,' says Captain James, ' we're out of his reach. He can't hit us now. Come, stick to your oars, lads ! Pull away ! You'll catch her in two hours !' We'd four oars. One of the sick men steered, another manasred the sa i' 5) I ' \y 40 Thi' Voyage of the Constance. *' iruil you the wind -with ytni, lliciir" asked Captain Annstroncr. " Xo, si]', no ; hut tlio idea was to 1)C fccmi l)y tlio fdiip. Tlif f-ails impeded ns, but we liad 'eiu set, and Avent a niilo alx^ut, I0 show ourselves. Captain .hunes kept tlic t^las. coiitii.ually at liis e^'e. ' Let nie have sonic cotl'ee,' says one ol' lis. I Corsrct "wliich it was; wo ^v(M'o n-rowin'>' iaiut. Captain James's answer was tliis. Cleiu'liiui;" his iist. and ]i('intiiig' it at tlie sliip, lie said, ' Xot a l)it nor a di'(>}) sliall you have till you i'eteh that, oi' die.' " "' S'.U'clv he Avas wrontj: in that,*' s;ild INIrs. Armstrono" ; "it Stems iinnccessarv severilv." '"He chann-ed his mind soon,"' said retcr. '*ire savs, MX'cry man shall have one more drink, the best Jie can ha\e. Take your till, and then give the can to me.' AVe laid linu'-jnice and water." Was that streurrthenins" cnouii'h:" asked Edward. It was iirst-rate, sir Capt am Jamc s, as I told V ou, o' us wJiat was ,♦■ \ i« s ii tl d kept' the {''lass to his eye, and kept tclliu ])ar sing* on board. We'd been pulling since four in the Horning". When it was near nine, he says, ' Up goes the tiirl)oard stunsails !' That was a death-blow to us." •" AVhy r' asked Mar^'aret. '' It looked as if thcv were catehiim' \\\q wind and ji'oiii2: o n.ake all sail, and so wo should lose 'em, miss, 'Up 0( - llie larboard stunsails,' he says next. Another nail in ur coffins; that was a stopper. At nine tlie wateh was liaiiged. ' There's a man in the crow's nest,' he says, ' and lere's more men on deck, and in a confused sort of order. le's not makincr nmch hcadw »y SI le s near lyi )ecaline( iow, lads, you'll catch her in an hour.' I says, ' Fire ! How they know we're in distress?' He lired both barrels in Jn Old Sailor^s Recollections. 41 Cap tain tlio fdiip. lit fi iiiilo lie plas. sn js 0110 i.l;' ihint. ii'^t. and •(1]) sliuU isd'onn- • To savs, Jie can :^' AVe ard. Id vnii, lat ^vas in ilio ocs the >> going 3 'U,, 1 nail ill 2 •Ti was 1 , 'and 1 order. 1 limed. 1 How 1 •els 111 one report. 'Ciive Ihem another !' I says n^aln. He fired They heard hoili shots, and Cdiild see ].: aiiL;" airam, hau-. 11:^. They tried to persuade tlieir Captain in jay-io for lis. ' Who arc they ?' says they; ' They're eitlicr tlie " Vietory's" erew or some GreenalnuMi in distress.' "IFo.v did von know this':"' asked ^Nrarn-aret. '' Thev told us afterwards, miss. When tlie tliird waleli eamc \\\^ at twelve, all the deck was in confusion. Thero "Were lots o' them in the crow's nest. Thev lav-to." " Slie's our prize I" says Captain James. "Xow, lads, would you hoard her if she was an enemy ? IJettcr hiy-to and lit my nnclc come up to us. Put your oars l>y ! But we couldn't stop. !My head was fixi'd o' one side, looking at iiiv oar, and wc couldn't hel[) dabhiin'." "Poor fellows ! Xo wonder!'' said (^iptain Armstrong*. " Pp comes Captain Poss's boat and L;ets athwart of ns, and wc get our hows])rifc through her sail. ' Never mind ! I-et her lay !' says Captain James. ^Meanwhile they lowered a l)()at from the ship to ]n;ll off to meet us. The mate, when he a})proaclied, sung out, ' AVho are ye ? or what are ye ?' This was Captain lioss's answer, ' What ship is that ?' " "A true Scotch ai'swer," said Captain Armstrong. "]]at listen to the reply, sir," said Peter. " These was tlie words o' the mate in reply : ' Captain Ross's old dis- covery ship, the " Isabella !" ' " " It was an extraordinary coincidence, indeed," said !Mrs. Armstroncf. " Xow, hear Captain Posa's answer this time," "aid Peter, rising from his seat with a face full of importai!':, — "'I'm Captain Ilo;-s, and iikijk's :mv ci;i:wl'" "That was capital !" cried Edward. "P^p rose all the men in the boat, and the mate stepped m I IN I ■' I! II •r ^ 42 The Voya^t? cf the Co>i stance. lor'ard and sliook liuiids witli liiin, ami saiil, ' I sliall go and iic(|ual)it my Captain.' " ' What's your Captain's name ?' says Captain Rosh. " He answered, it was Captain IFumplireys ; and when he ■was aljout half-way, he sing-s out, ' Vietory's erew !' Imnie^ diately followed three eheers, and we returned it." " ^'ou well deserved the cheers, Peter. I never heard a story of more bravely endured hardships, nor more })atient submission to disci[)line. You must see, Peter, that if Captain Ivoss had not kept you all to that, nothing could luive saved vou." ^' All right, sir !" said J?eter. " When the men stood up in the * Isabella's ' boat, seeing the dilference between their iaees and ours, T said to myself, they -were all picked men, biggest men out o' the ship — Yorkshiremen, perhaps. Wo Avas like sweeps. Well, \vc went alongside. They put up the 'commodatlon ladders and handed us in like ladies. AVe couldn't full. Captain Ross was handed down tc tlie cabii directly ; doctor and purser the same. I'd got Anty Buc the blind man, showing him — telling him, that is — what was doing ; so \vc were last out o' the boat ; and when we came on deck, tliere was Captain James standing ; so we told Captain Humphreys that was our officer, and/<6 was handed down. " ' Are they all on board ?' cries Captain Humphreys. " ' Ay, ay, sir.' " ' Put on a copper o' meat !' That was the first order. *' ' Now, my lads,' says he, next, ' one o' you lug out a pair o' stockings, another a jacket, another a shirt, just as you can spare them.' Tliey wasn't slow ; we soon had every- thing we wanted. *' ' Xow, then, mess pots !' says Captain Humphreys ; IHiLiii I go (lUj Ross. Imiuo. Iieard a patient that if '^ could ooci up II their l1 moil, . ^Vo put up AVo cabii JJuc it was came told mded rder. Jut a st as rcvy- QJS; is yffi Old Siiilor^s Rccollcit'ions, 43 ':;ervu out grog to all hands; and when I serve out g"ro<^ to my crew, I serve out j^"rog to you all !' Three cheers at !iat !" " I've no doubt of it," said Cai)taln Arinstroiig, hinghiiig. " Well, sir, after wc had the groi^ — which was a thing' we Jiadn't tasted for a year and more — nothing but spirits ()' wine — we was handed down, and had a wash and a shave ; and, as I said afore, everything we wanted. ^Eaiiy o' the men had said, whenever they were })ieked up, wc would liavo a blow-out of salt pork ; l)ut I see myself several o' the men cut, and couldn't eat. I says 'I was hungry; now Im neither liungry, nor yet dry, nor tired.' AVo slept that night in the coldest and ^vx'ttest plaee we could find, in our bags. AVe couldn't bear no other." " When did you get home, Peter, did you say ?" asked ]"]dward. " It's rather a long story, that, sii ,"' he replied. " You see we " "Having got you safe on board the ' Isabella,' Greely," said Captain Armstrong, rising, "I must bid you good-night. It's time we were all going to rest. I must delay all I have else to say to you, my children, till to-morrow." '' And about my going ?" said I'^dward, anxiously. "You must wait till to-morrow." Peter had risen and gone to the door, but there he stopped again. " AVe all thank you very much, indeed, Greely," said ^Irs. Armstrong ; " we have been very much interested in your story." " That I am sure we have," said ^Margaret , and Edward thanked him warmly with a kind nod and good-night, while Captain Armstrong poured out a glass of wine for him to i i ill % fill ; :1 liif ! 1' III i 44 '^^^<-' Voynge of the Constance. di-iiik success to tlic " Polo-Strir." Peter dranlc it, mid hcaltli and a safe return to tlic Captain, but still lie did not g'o. "You had your supper in tlic Litclicn, Peter, I hope, before vou came in ?" said j\[rs. Armstrong''. " Yes, y(s, ma'am, thaidv you ; hut — tlien it's no use for me to sav no more about that matter of j^foiuc: with you, Capt.vin r" " Of no use at all, Greelv. I know the value of a man like you as well as any one, and, as I said, tlierc is not one I should like better, but for vour own sake I Avill not take YOU. You are twenty years older than when vou landed out of the ' Isabella,' married, and well off in the world. Don't think of it. Good-night." " I wish vou all jrood-niLrlit," said Peter. " I don't see, though," he added to himself, as he shut the door, " wh}' 1 he Captain should not take some of that same good advice to himself as he uf^ive to mc. It's true he mavn't be as old as mo by some ten years or fo, but as to being well off, I'm sure he don't know when he's well off." CHAPTER IV. T JI J: y\ Ali NE TIC rO L K, )i 1 The sun had not long i-isen next morning before Edward was seated in a corner of the wood with his drawing-board and colour-box, finishing up a sketch of the cottage that lie had been doinL*- for his father to take awav with him. He was so cntrrossed in his work fhat he did not move for a longwhil'j, but sometimes whistled or sang over if, then holding it at a little distance, examined it with a critical 'IP witli m The M.ignctic Pole, 45 eve, and sei to work a;_';iln to alter or improve it. Suddenly, .Hs if some wretehed thoa^-lit liad entered his head, he tlirew it down, started np, and he^an to pace about the wood. Presently he returned and set to work a.Lrain, stejidily, but without an\' more careless whistli.. . Trideiit, who was stretched at his feet, soraelinuNS looked \\\^ wistfully in his face and then lay down again, with a siiih or short sound oi discontent, as if he felt all was not right. After an hour or more, his sketch being tolerably finished, Iklward bc'-aii to collect his drawini;- materials toirether and to go homcwarus. He observed as he walkeil along that the jjigeons were out, and was jdeased to see Sir Launcelot among them, pruning his feathers on the roof as if ]u3 liad i'elt n.o futiinie oi' injury, from his iournev, or at any rate had had a. good night and was very well this morning, dust as lie was thinking so he saw ^largaret ()[)eu her window. "When are vou coming down, ]\rari>'aret ?" he crli'd. " T want you very nuieli ; raid bring tiie peas, will you ':"' She iKjdded, to siiow Jdm. that she h.^ard and would (!<> what lie a^ked, and w;is wiMi him on tlie terrace in a few luiuutes. They strewed the jieas for their pigeons, who tlevv down and pecked the;n u[) as ia-t as possible, Sir Launce'ot among the rest. ^largai-et then had to give her opiiii(Mi of the sketch, whieii she [r.jnounced to be exac. ly like, arid lovelv. "ISow, tiieu, what! want next is this house to l)ema(l(i for Laiinc^'. Peter said he would conu ;djout it this morn- ing, I wish, lie wouM." " ^Meanwhile, Idwird, do tell me about the mairnetlc pole. 1 thought wt; knew about the nortii pole long agi>, a:id that the nccilh) always pointed io it.'' li :| 'i» '''' 1 1 *!j ri', .\- I. n 1 1^ ill '\j^!S^usiai 46 The Voyage of the Constance. " You sec, ^laggie," said Edward, " tlic north jiole of the earth is one tiling, and the magnetic pole is another. You never read any voyages Avitliout hearing of the varia- tion of the needle." "No; I always have wanted to understand what that meant." " AVell, it means the variation of the needle from due north. You know that the north pole is 00' from the equator, and that all the meridians of longitude arc drawn through it. They all pass throngh it, so that wo cannot say the north j^ole is any longitude ; all we can say of it is, the latitude 00'." " Yes ; I have learned that, and that it is the point on whi' h the earth revolves : the north and south poles aretlie spots that are still while the earth spins round." " But the magnetic pole is not the centre of motion, it is the centre of magnetic attraction, and Sir »lames Koss found its exact place. It is in latitude 70' 3' 17" north, and in longitude Of/ 40' 13" west." *' Oh, that is a long way from the north pole. But how did he find the place ? Was there some great magnet there 'r'" " That is exactly what he says people might have ex- pected. I brought out his account of finding it, published in Captain Ross's narrative of his voyage, and will read you the passage : — *' ' The land at this place is very low near the coast, but it rises into ridges of lifty or sixty feet high about a mile inland. Wc could have Avished that a place so important had possessed more of mark or note. It was scarcely censurable to regret that there was not a mountain to indicate a spot to which so much of interest must ever be attached ; and I could even have pardoned any one among Ei I. i-.i ,11 aij I MTM m The Maznetlc Pole. M % us wlio Lad been so romantic or absurd as to expect that the magnetic pole "was an object as conspicuous and mys- terious as the fabled mountain of Sinbad, that it even -ivas .1 mountain of iron, or a magnet as hirge as IMont Blanc. But nature had here erected no monument to denote the spot -which she had chosen as the centre of one of her great and dark powers.' " "And how did Sir James Boss knowtliat he had found the place ?" "Ho had been making observations uith different in- struments for some time, and so liad Sir Edward Parry, in his last voyage, and had come very near it by calculation." " I cannot think how." " You must observe, in the first place, that I do not understand it all myself, ]\[aggie, or an^^thing like all, and that if 1 did I could not make you, unless you had studied very hard. But I can give you some idea. You remem- ber that when Parry got to the Tord degro(> of latitude, and the 80th degree of longitude, the compass became useless r" " Yes ; I think I begin to see a little. Of course, if the needle always points to the magnetic "ole, it will not move at all when it gets really to the very magnetic p<»le itscli'; and if it gets to the north of it, it will point to the south, and if it gets duo east of it, it will point west, and ."^ > on. " That is exactly the thing, ^laggie. So people at 1 )mn even, could reason about it from the accounts of voyagers an '' travellers, especially' Parry and Franklin, and find out pretty nearly whereabouts it must be. If Parry said ' tho needle pointed south ' then they would say he luul ';ot to the north of the magnetic pole. If Franklin said 'the :1 M M ■ Ij W t h .( i!^ ^'-^^ h a '''■ 4-> 772t' Voyage of the Constance. iiccdlc pointed cast,' they would be sure lie was to tlie west ui' it, and so the rxucfc spot was pretty nearly guessed." " But what did Sir James lloss do to make quite sure ?" "He knew that where the ' Vietory' lay they were very ucar tlic place. He had employed himself dui-iug idl the lime he had been there in experiments with diiTorent insti'uraents, and, in ^lay of I80I, ho set olf with a parly taking instruments of different kinds with him, to try to iind the very place. He had horizontal needles, like those you know, and also dipping needles. These ai'e so madt; as to point downwards, not to point to the horizon, but to the centre of the earth." " Ves, I undei'stand." " When he arrived as neai'ly as he could reckon af tlio spoi, ho had an observatory built. This is his account : — " 'The place of the observatory was as near to the mag- netic pole Jis the limited means Avhich I possessed enabled me to determine. The amount of the dip as indicated by my dip[)ing needle was <S!.*' 5'.*', being thus within one nn'nute of the vei'ticrd.' Do you uiiderstand that, ISIairu'ie r" "Xi)tfpiite. I know there are sixty juinutcs in a de- gree, so if the needle had pointed to one minute more it would have been 1H)\" " Well, then, t")' would have been verti(*al, as he calls it, or pointing straight down to the ccnlre of the earth. 1 think I could tell vou whv I know that, but vou had lietter believe mo that it would liave been so till you have learned about the circle, in short, the di[){)ing needle pointed all but (luite straiu'ht down towards the eartii." Kead on. )!ease Ed ware »j U ( Tiie proximity Lor nearness] at least of this pole, if not its actual cxistci:cc where we stooil, was further con- ol rp the •iH-wnii The Magnetic Pole 40 fii-mecl by the action, or rather by the total inaction, of tlic several horizontal needles then in my possession. Tlie.se were suspended in the most delicate manner possible, but there was not one which showed the slight- est effort to move from the position in which it was placed; " " lie must have been very glad. Was Peter there r" " Yes ; ho helped to make the instruments and take Ihc observations. He has told me how pleased they all were, and Sir James R-oss describes it. Shall I read what he says r" "Yes, do." " ' As soon as I had satisfied my own mind on this subject, I made known to the party this gratifying result of all our joint labours; and it was then that amidst mutual con- gratulations wo fixed the British flag on the spot, and took possession of the North jMagnetic l*olo and its adjoining territory in the name of Great Britain and King William the Fourth. AVe had abundance of materials for building in the fragments of limestone that covered the beach ; and we therefore erected a cairn of some magnitude, under which we buried a canister containing a record of the interesting fact ; only regretting that we had not the means of constructing a pyramid of more importance, and of strencfth sutlicient to withstand the attacks of time and of the Esquimaux.' " He then tells the latitude and longitude, which I told you before. Look, this is the place — on the west coast of Boothia, just south of Cape Adelaide." " So the north magnetic pole is in America. And there is nothing to be seen, he says ; only the flat sea-shore, and i'ragnients of limestone lying about ; and it has some power 4 I ','t II till 4 'l 1 i ■1 ti i [ t 1 1 li 13 1^ 50 The Voyage of the Constance. that attracts and makes the needle always point to it ! What can it be ?" " It is wonderful." " Edward, does it not seem to you just as silly to plant the British flag there, and take possession of it for King William the Fourth, as it did of Balboa to wade into the water with his drawn sword and take possession of the Pacific Ocean for the King of Spain ?" *' Oh, no, Maggie ! We did not mean to keep the mag- netic pole for our own use (even if we could). Only to leave a sign that Englishmen had discovered it. Oh, it would ha\u been grand to be there and help to hoist the flag!" " And is the use of the magnetic pole just to make the needle point to it ?" *' Oh, no. All manner of important things in the world depend on magnetism and electricity, which, as far as I can understand, seem very much the same. But people are always learning and finding out more about them. My father only began teaching it all to me quite lately, and we were to have gone on steadil}^ What shall I do ? What will become of me ?" " Edward ! dear Edward ! you are crying ; you must let me try to comfort you." Edward had buried his face in his hands, and his tears were streaming through his fingers. Margaret's fell on his Lair as she leaned over him. " I am sure he does not mean me to go with him," said Edward, in a broken voice ; " I know he does not, before he tells me." ** Oh, Edward ! I cannot be sorry for that. Think what mamma and I should feel to part with you both !" I'i. mm lat The Alagmti: Pole. 51 " Notliing could make it worse to my mother tlian it will be." " He went three years ago, and you and I did not mind it so much." " Wo were so much younger. We did not know what he is to us as we do now." " There is Peter coming ! " " I will be back in a minute. Keep him till I come," said Edward, dashing down into the wood, followed by Trident. Margaret got up quickly from the garden-chair on which she was sitting, wiped away her tears, and began strewing a few more peas for the pigeons. " Good morning, miss ! " said Peter, coming up with his basket of tools on his shoulder. " Do you still think of sending the pigeon aboard ?" " Oh yes, we do ! " *' Does the Captain know about it r" *' No, we did not like to trouble him till we had tried a long journey for the little thing; but now, if you think you could manage a nice house or box for it, we will ask him directly." " You see, miss, there are two or three things to be considered But where is Master Edward ? I see him here as I came up the hill." Edward appeared at that moment on the steep path that led from the wood, playing with Trident, who was leaping and dashing about among the ferns. " Good morning, Peter ! So you have not forgotten to come," he cried, looking so cheerful that ^largaret was surprised. She saw that she must not, as she had often done, think Edward did not feel because he did not seem unhappy. k i i , [ a '1 it 1 1 1 i i ' ' is 52 7J:c Voyage of iJie Co7i stance. "I liavc ]jcon sayinj^, blaster Edward, tliat there nro two or tlireo tliinc,^s \o be considered : lirst, not to take up too mncli room, and vet to ninke it larQ-c enoncli : secondlv, not to make it too lieavy, and 3-et to make it strong ; thirdly, to make it warm and water-tiglit. Now I've l)ecn blinking we couldn't do better than take a hint from tho Ksquimaw." " But i\i(^j make snow hoiiKes in lloothia, and stono huts in other place.^'. Neither of these would do." "No, no. I'm not thinking of their houses, hut their canoes. The Esquimaw of IjafTin's Bay have canoes that arc wonderful well contrived : the frame is made of whale- bone, and covered with seal-skin ; they are about eighteen feet long, tapering to a point fore and aft, and about twent}'- onc inches in the beam. They just hold one man, don't yoa see. He sits nearly in the middle — a little, maybe, towards the starn — in a man-hole, and stretches out his feet under the deck, as we may call the covering of the top. Do you understand r" ''I quite understand." " When the man, who is dresf^ed all in skins, gets in and fastens the rini of his man-hole, as he does, tight round his jacket or jumper, as we called it, so as to be water-tight, he minds the cold and the water no more than a seal or a walrus. Hi n and his kayak (that's what they call a canoe) looks just one animal. They'll be out day and night on the stormv seas among the ice, and take no hurt — catchin<r scids, it may be, or carrying the post from one Danish settlement on the coast of Greenland to another, for they arc employed in that way. The I'^sfpiimaw there, don't 3'ou sue, have more sense, and have learned more from being near the Danish settlements.'' m llie Magnetic P:L\ 53 " Oil yes, that is quite natural ; and the}' have ijeeii taught Christijinity by the Moravian niissionarics."' " Yes, they are good, simple j)eople, very lione-sl, which is more than I can say for other tribes of them; and w.nw of the Esquim.aw drink. 'ihey won't taste spirits, but ^vater — how they will drink water I A gallon's nothing to them. And as fur eating — see an Es([uimaw ^vitll sonic; seal-blubber or raw walrus ! You would never believe n;c if I was to tell you," " But, Peter, jibout the house we are to have fur the pigeon r" "I'm coming to that. As I tell you, a man in his kayak will ride over the surf like a sea-bird, paddling with his two-bladed oar ; and when night comes on ho will turn into some cove, draw up his kayak under the lee of a cldf, get in again, lean his head against a rock, draw his hood over his face, and sleep till morning, not caring for snow, ice, nor wind, with the thermometer below zero. ' " \Vc don't know what men can do and bear till wo sco things like that," said Edward. "Then you think of making Sir Launcelot a cnnoc to live in r " said Marj^-aret, lauu'liijiir. '" Fancy the little fellow sitting in the mitldle, in liis pigeon-ho^e 1 " *' Miss ]\largaret," said Peter, looking grave, " all I mean is, as I said, to take a hint. The house w; make must cither be square — about a foot S(juare. I should think, would do, or eighteen inches long by a foot deep. The height need not be much ; pigeons do not care to perch ; they do very \vell standino- on the ilat ground. Say nine or ten inches hijrh." ici! '. " asked Will he keep his health in such a little pi; 'X if ^Martraret. JSN n 54 7"/?t- T'lj^^^^ o/' the Constance. " I tliiiik lie Avoukl," said Edward, " if it was kept very clean, and my father would take care tVat was done." "To be sure he would," said Peter, "lie would give the order, ' Sec that when the decks is scrubbed of a morning the pigeon's house is seen to ! ' or something of that sort, and it would be done as rcg'lar as the clock." "Then, should you make it of whalebone and seal- skin?" " I think we could not do better. Miss Margaret. The front must be open, of course, in bars." " I should think they should bo wood, smooth and round," said Edward. " We must think about it," replied Peter. *' The thing is, don't you sec, that in the cold there, wood grows so brittle, that unless it's thick and strong, it snaps like glass. Metal of any kind won't do, of course, because it burns like hot iron." " I cannot think why that is, Edward. I have heard it before." " My father will explain it much better than I can. I could, only he will make it so much clearer, that you had better ask him." *' Well, then," said Margaret, '" the bars might be white bone, such as knife-handles are made of; or ivory would be very pretty, only I suppose it would be extravagant." "Either would be better than wood. I'll tell you something, now, that will show you : we made a wooden leg for one of the Esquimaw." " Poor fellow ! how had he lost his leg ?" *' It was a frost-bitten foot, you sec. Master Edward, and it was so bad that he i)ut his leg in an ice-crack o' purpose, The Magnetic Pole. 55 and broke it sliort off aucatli the knee, and then ho cut the bone clean." " Oh, Peter," cried ^Margaret, shuddering, ** how hor- rible! I can hardly believe you.'* " Well, wc made him a wooden leof. Wo fitted it on him, and gave him two sticks first to walk with. He couldn't manage at all, so I strapped it on myself, and showed him, and ho learned how." " What did you do with your own leg, Peter ?" asked Margaret. " Oh, I just bent my knee, miss, and let the leg stick out behind. Next day he came with ono stick, and very soon he came with none, and was as proud of his leg as you please. There he used to come and jump about, and go through his degrees, I assure you. Wo carved the * Victory's' name on it, and finished it off with brass, and he always wore two stockings on it, and one on his other." " What did the silly fellow do that for ?" asked Margaret. " He was quite right, miss. It was for fear the frost should get at it and snap it. That's wha,t I wanted to tell you. I3e sure that leg will be taken care of among them." In the midst of tlic laughter this story caused, the break- fast bell rang, and their father and mother came out and walked alonq; the terrace toorether. *' So Peter is telling you some more of his stories, is he ? " said Captain Armstrong, after their affectionate *' Good morning !" had been said. " Yes, and we have been holding a conversation about something, father," said Edward. " We must tell you, and ask you whether you like our idea, presently." "Mea:iwhile," said !Mrs. Armstrong, " Peter had better go and have some breakfast and attend to a few little pieces IT V» 'l|' m % ;. ■'!,H ! ' .-.I J l.a i '\ 1 L £'< 50 7/:^ i%r/^(j-^ of ihc C'-jHStancc. of work that have to be (U>iie. Wo shall bo able to give him Ilia order al'rerwards." Peter accord irii^^ly went in ; and Mrs. Armstrong, as they walked u}) and down all together to enjoy the A'esli air and the sonfjfs of the birds, announced to Edward and !Margaret that she had told tlieir father about the way in wliich tliey liad trained Launcy, and that he had agreed to take the little fellow, and would perhaps send them a mes- sage by him. " I really will take Launcy," said he, " if I can depend on you all not to make him a source of anxiety, !^^any tin'ngs may prevent me from sending him off. The poor litth^ thing ms.y die, though I will do my ntmost to take care of him ; so do not look up so pitifully, my little jMaggie ! Then, if he were apparently weak, I should not like to send him off; and in any case, if everything went well with me, and I had good chance of coming home at the end of the second summer, I should almost shrink from risking his life. I should^ be inclined to be my own letter carrier." "That would be best of all, papa," said Margaret. " If such happy fortune should attend me as that I found Franklin, I would send him. I should not be able to resist the attempt to make you and all England sharers in my joy, without waiting for the tedious passage homeward." " I think," "^"dd Mrs. Armstrong, " you must try to send him, Henry. You know how I should rejoice if you suc- ceeded in your grand purpose ; but to know that, successful or not, you were safe and "^^ell after the dangers of next winter, would be very much to me. I should hardly know- how to wish for anything more." " But if he never comes, believe that I am, and that 1 hope to be home in autumn. I will not send him unless I Ediuard^s Fate is Decided. SI resolve to stay a second winior; unless, as I said before, 1 have been so luiiipy as to iiiid I'Vauklin." CHAPTJ-Ul V. EDWAKD S r.VTi: IS DMCIDI- I). IjiiKAKFAST being over, and Peter dismissed with orders to nudcc the pigeon's house according io tlie plan pro|»osud, Captain Armstrong said ho would hnish the conversiition of the evening before, and e\j)luiu his intended route. *' Your mother kno\,s it already," said he, smiling, "but I believe she is going to listen again." "You sec, papa," said Margaret, "she will 'not have you long to listen to, so she will not miss a word you say now. 1 know that is the reason." There was a little silence. Edward took his mother's 1 ,ind, and pressed it ; and CapL.iin Armstrong stooped uown to pick up a map, and looked a little while at it before he went on. " I told you," he then said, " to look at Beechey Island when I began last night. Find it again ; I shall soon have occasion to tell you more about it. Franklin's expedition in search of the north-west passage was the first after Sir John Iloss's, of which you heard Peter's account. Franklin went in 1845, with the ' Erebus' and ' Terror'; the ' Terrcjr' commanded by Captain Fitzjames, and the united crews amounting to one hundred and forty men. They were pro- visioned for three years. Their route was very much left to Franklin's own discretion ; it is at any rate diflicult to decide, by reading the Admiralty instructions, which was ri: •M ! f ' ''I ; f ■ Ik- > I 1 1 ■ ! * 58 The Voyage of the Constance, most recommended to hira. He wrote from BafFm's Bay that all were well in July. When the season of 1848 came round, and he had not been heard of since the date of these letters, people became anxious at home ; and his old travel- ling companion, Richardson, went to the mouth of the Mackenzie River and explored all the coast to the Copper- mine, assisted by the boats of the * Plover' and 'Herald,' in case Franklin had tried that more southerly passage ; while Sir James Ross (Peter's hero, Crptain Jjimes) went out with the ' Enterprise* and 'Investigator' to Lancaster Sound. Sir James Ross wintered on Leopold Lsland, but returned next season without any success, and after a very narrow escape from the ice." " Tlien you went soon afterwards," said Edward. "When 18,50 came, and still no tidings, tlio anxiet3Mvas general, and great energy was put forth to find the missing ships. The search for the north-west passage became only a secondary object. To find Franklin was the great hope and desire. I had just returned from \X\Q) south seas, and with my consent John sailed with M'CIure in tl e ' Investi- gator,' which was despatched ])y Behring's Straits with the expedition commanded by Captain Collinson, in cas^ Franklin had gone very far west and there been stopped. They have not returned yet. Tliey may have succeeded, yet it seems too much to hope. On the contrary, it is im- possible to help being anxious about their own fate. Tlio * Resolute,' under Captain Kellet, has been specially sent to their rescue by Melville Island, and I hope that this autumn will sec them return in safety." " Yes," said IMrs. Armstrong, " I do trust that John will spend his next winter with us." " I hope ho will come home safe," said Edward. *' We m S1^ e) bd ml Edward's Fate is Deckled. 59 never tliought. when wc bid Lira good-bye he would stay such Ji time. I remember it as well as if it was yesterday. What a good fellow John is ! AVlierever he is ho will keep every one round him merr^^■' *' You must take trood care of liira when you jx^it him back," said Captain Armstrong. " Three winters in the ice must try any man, liowcvcr strong he may be." " Now tell us about your going, papa," said Margaret, " and the names of all the ships." " Captain Austin's squadron, with whicii I sailed, con- sisted of tlie * Ilesolute,' his own sliip, the ' Assistance * under Captain Oramanney, and the 'Intrepid' and 'Pioneer,* two steamers under Captains Cator and Osborne. Then there were two fine brigs under Captain Penny, the 'Lady Franklin' and 'Sophia'; the ' Pelix ' under old Sir Jolin Ross, with the ' Mary ' as tender ; two American vessels, the ' Rescue' and ' Advan^-^e,' sent out by IMr. Grinnell, an American merchant, at his own expense, entirely from hi^ sympathy with the cause ; 'and there was the ' Pririco Albert,' Lady Franklin's own little sln'p." " What a number of ships I" said Margaret ; " and none of them could fuul him ! " " No, no, none of them could find him ! They all went by Baflin's Bay and explored the dilTcrent channels and in- lets in vain. Yet our hopes were raised our first season by what we found at Beechey Island, as I said." " Oh, tell us the story of it ! " cried Margaret. " You must fancy us exploring the northern shore of Barrow's Strait. We were ashore near Cape Ptiloy. Sud- denly we came to a spot on which pieces of rope and canvas, broken bottles and a long-handled tool that .saihjrs use to rake up from the bottom of the sea, were l}'iug aljout f I' I ■ -. ■' t\ '• V i & 60 Tlie Voyage of the Constance. in confusion. AVo could scarcely trust ourselves with the idea or the hope, but it flashed across our minds that wo had found traces of Franklin. Our lost brotliers might he near us. We ran about in all directions. AVe found a tent- place next; a round space where a tent had certainly been pitched. In tin; midst of our excitement an accident put us to flight and sto})ped our search for that day. AVe were peering about in all directions when we were suddenly attacked by a bear." "And were you obliged to run away, father?"' asked Edward. "We were but a boat's crew, and had no arms or means of defence, so all we could do was to push oil' in the boat ■while he went oil' towards the packed ice." " Our news, you may be sure, flew like wilddre among the shi])S. Xext day parties from all within reacli were on the spot. AV^e found, near Ca[)e Spencer, the walls of a hut of a circuhir form, solidly built, neatly paved with small smooth stones, and containing a fire})lace where still lay the cold ashes of the last fire lighted there, ^[any bones of birds, and empty meat-tins were scattered near it. AVe believe this to have been ji look-out place over Barrow's Strait and AVellington Channel. AVe could not doubt now that we h.id found traces of Franklin, hut our hearts sank at observing marks of long exposure to weather. They Avcre not recent traces." '* One of us ])icked up a piece of pajier with the words ' To be called ' still distinctly readable, also a piece of news- paper. There were sledge marks leading northward, but they "were soon lost in the snow that had fallen since. On the west- ei'n shore was a cairn built of lavers of meat-tins filled with gravel. There was also the embankment of a house, which sccl in we I soil sai hi. \l Edward" s Fate is Decided. 6i seemed to hnve been used as a cnrpcntt>r's and smitli's work- \v.'^ places, by the sbavinc^s and l)its of iron filings. There were also washing-tubs, made of empty meat-casks, and some coal-bat^s." " On the eastern shore was the remnant of a garden." " Oh, pnpn, think of the poor sailors making a garden !" said Margaret. " ^V'as anything growing in it still ?" " Some pc^ppies and anemones that had been trans- planted there still showed some signs of life. The garden hnl a neat oval ontlino made with moss and lichen. Xot far from it was a pair of cashmere gloves spread out to dry, with a pebl)le on each palm." " How did you know what year they were here, papa r" asked ^Eargaret. " A melancholy record told us, !^^nggie, "We found three graves. Ivich was neatl}'' constructed with an oaken headboard and footboard, and each had an inscription. I copied them down and will read them to you : — " * Sacred to the memory of J. Torriiic^ton, who departed this life Jan. 1st, 18 IG, on board II. M.S. " Terror," aged 20 years. " ' Sacred to the memory of W. Rraine, K.M., of IT.M.S. *' Erebus," died April 3i-d, 18 10, aged 32 years. " ' Choose ye this day wlioni yo will serve. — Josh. xxiv. 15. " ' Sacred to the memory of J. Hartwell, A.IJ., of II.M.S. •' Erebus," died Jan. 1th, 1816, aged 25 years. " * Thus saith the Lord of Hosts, Consider your ways. — 2Ia(j. i. 7.' " I*. M ! 4 i " I remember," said^frs. Armstrong, " Captain Osborno remarking that wherever English sailors go, all over tho PjR r M 62 TJie Voyage of the Constance. world, there will bo found the graves of their coinrades whom they have lost by death, made with all the religious cure that could be given to the task at home." " Yes, it is a true remark, and the graves of those three poor fellows afford an instance of it. But where are they who laid them there ? Ko notice could we find of their in- tended course when they should leave their winter quarters. We searched every possible and impossible place. The cairn was pulled down and built up again and again before we could believe that it contained no writing to guide us. At last we gave it up in despair, and were left to conjecture. " During the winter everything was done that was possible. Every ship left a record of its visit at Cape Riley, and landed provisions also, incase tlie missing ships should call there again. Penny pushed up Wellington Channel as far as Cornwallis Island, wliere he was stopped by a barrier of ice, but saw open water bej'ond, to the north, as far as the eye could reach." " That was the Polar Ocean that you believe in, father: was it not ?" asked Edward. " It was ; and he saw it again in his sledge journey in spring. Tiie Americans passed a dreadful winter, drifting up and down Wellington Channel in the ice. The ' Prince Al])evt' relurned home. The rest of the ships were frozen in, in diilerent harbours, well protected from cold, and their crews well off. The little that could be done during the w inter months was done. Rockets were frequently put up ; lire-balloons were also sent up, so managed as to scatter papers down, on which the situations of the rescue ships were described. We sent out postmen too." " Sent out postmen, papa?" " Yes ; little white postmen, all clothed in fur. You ml thi w asi lit! hu ])ai col is Edward's Fate is Decided. 63 must know that wo sometimes cauglit foxes in traps, and the foxes there are the prettiest creatures you can imagine, with long soft white fur, and hirgc bushy tails, all as white as snow, and their quick black eyes shining out under their little, pointed ears. Well, sometimes we used to put a liollow brass collar round their necks, and in the collar a paper, telling exactly where our ships hiy, with the date of course, and then let them run away." " You hoped some of Sir John Franklin's party would see a fox with a collar, wonder at it and caich him, and find the paper ? What a pity they never did !" " Our hopes, from whatever we tried, all ended in dis- appointment. In spring we made long journeys with sledges, but still all in vain. Five shijis arc still out ex- ploring under Sir Edward Belcher, and the 'Advance,' one of the American ships, is just going again." " Dr. Kane is to command her this time, I think ?" said Mrs. Armstrong. " Yes, ho was surgeon in the former voyage." " What a brave, energetic spirit he must have," said ]\[rs. Armstrong, " to go again, so soon after all they had to suffer in that voyage !" " There are few spirits like his. There never was a nobler fellow, and his active enterprise is the more remark- able because he has very bad health, and a slight, delicately- formed figure. lie has travelled into almost every quarter of the globe. To know him was well worth all the hard- ships we endured." " And is Mr, Grinnell at tlie expense of this expedition, too r" asked Mrs Armstrong. " Yes, he is. It is the more noble, as his benevolence ia exerted not for his fellow-countrymen but for Englishmen. m * :.»^ I .8 li : .i i \ ■ I 64 The Voyage of the Constance. lie (cols, as cvcTyoiic onglit to do, that all men arc brothers, the English and the Americans especially." "It showed a fine spirit too in the Americans," said Edward, " to make that declaration von told me of, fatliei-, before thev set out, that if thev succeeded in findinir Frank- lin they would not acce[)t any part of the reward of twenty thousand pounds offered by the English Government," "It did. We had another high-minded and delightful ofhcer out with us that winter, who was not an I'^nq-lishman. 1 mean Bellot, a lieutenant in the French navy, lie is now there again, in Sir J'^dward liclcher's scpiadron. He was as enthusiastic in the cause, as if Franklin had been bis own father." Edward looked at his father as if he could hardly believe (hat. " KaneIs"going this year to Smith's Sound, rpiitc at tlic north of Ilaflin's ^^'dy. You sec by the chart how little of it is known, and how direct a route it is to the Polar Ocean, in which Kane and I have full belief. Supposing open water to exist there all the 3'ear round — and there are many rea- sons to believe it does — suppose Fraidclin sailed nortlnvard lip Wellington Channel when he left Cape Kiley and got Into it, and that he is there now, the ice never having ojiened again to let him get free, — see how important it is to force our way to that ocean. For this reason, while Kane ex- plores Smith's Sound, I mean to follow Jones' Sound, a grand opening leading more to the west, and still less known than the other. This is to be my course : you see it as far as it has been traced on the chart." Edward and ^lar^'aret had found it and were listenini? with the greatest interest. " I am furnished with capital sledges, and shall take in Edward's Fate is Decided. 65 — as Kane will also do — a good team of dogs In Greenland. I have all the experience of former voyagers as to the best clothing, food, means of warmth and ventilation. I shall push on as far as possible this season ; winter in the best harbour I can find ; make excursions with sledges in spring. If it is the will of God to crown my efforts with such success as to let me find and rescue our lost brothers, we shall get out of harbour in summer when the ice opens, and " " Dear Henry ! Oh, may it be His will indeed !" said Mrs. Armstrong, taking his hand. " I do not think I am over-hopeful in supposing that they may have been able to maintain their lives there. That Northern Ocean probably abounds in life. Where do the myriads of sea-birds go that are seen in great flocks every summer flying northwards ? — to the rocks and cliffs of that ocean, to their breeding-grounds, doubtless. In every region, however far north, that we have explored, we still see birds, animals, shoals of fishes, whales, and narwhales, going far- ther north. The seal and walrus find open water there when all is locked up in ice farther south. A man of Franklin's ex- perience and energy would not fail to find means of lifetliere. The poor Esquimaux live all their lives on those icy shores, why cannot men of intelligence and resource live there for a few years ? Look at the Russian sailors in Spitzbergen, with much smaller means and a severer climate, yet they lived there seven years. Why should not Franklin be yet alive on the shores of that ocean, though eight years have passed r" Edward's face beamed as his father spoke, and in his excitement his hopes rose again. *' And you will take me, father ? you mean to take me r" he cried. Captain Armstrong pressed both Edward's hands bc- < h\ !■! ' ! V M M 1 ; i * ' J f I i: 66 77;^ Voyage of the Constance. twccn his, "Listen to me, my boy," he said, " I could not take you without risking your lite. You are too young to bear the cold of winter in the latitude I am bound for. If you were even one year older, I might tliink of it, because I know you are both brave in spirit and strong in body, but at your age it is not a thing to be thought of. I have told you my first and strongest reason against it ; I have otliers, which I shall explain to you afterwards : but do not think of it again." Edward had sunk his head upon his father's hand and trembled violently, but did not speak. Captain Armstrong laid his otlicr hand on his boy's head, and siiid softly, " May God bless and keep you, my own dear Kdward !" There was then a long silence, and when Edward at last lifted up his face he found that he and his father were alone in the room. " I want my boy to be strong and brave," said Captain Armstrong, looking at him affectionately. " Then why do you refuse to let me go and share hard- ships and strive for success with you V " The hardships and the hope have nothing to do with the question. The real question is. What is it right to do ? It is my duty to go, but it is yours to remain ; and when we clearly see what our duty is, then we must do it. There ought never to be a moment's hesitation. If we can say tliat a certain course is the right one, then we must take that course." " I sec what vou have to do, but what have I to do ? When you leuve me alone I shall feel as if I was cast away without anything to guide me, and with nothing to set about." " On the contrary, this is perhaps the most important year of your life. First of all, your mother and sister will n( bi X. \ iJ Edward's Fate is Decided. 67 need affection, sympathy, and care, such as a son and brother can gi^'e whose fatlier is absent." " Oh, I can do nothing to make up to them for the h)?s of you." " Yes, you can do mucli ; and I charge you to do all in your power. You will not forget, ]*]dward ?"' " No, I will not forget, my dear father." " John, if he returns, as I trust ho will, in autumn, will be much out of health ; you must take care of him, nurso him, and get up his strength again. You will not neglect this ?" " No, I will not." " Now I come to yourself You are to go back to Dr. Truman's every morning and attend the Greek, Latin, and mathematical classes, as well as the French nnd CJerman. The year's hard work wo have had together has put you well forward. You will find yourself (juite a match for the boys of your own standing. As to our other studies and experiments, they must wait till I come buck, unless John should get well enough to be inclined to work witii you. In that case, you cannot have a better teacher. Then as to books, there are plenty, and your mother will guide your choice among them. You must continue our evening reading." " And my drawing ?" "I have not forgotten it. Your great wish is to be- come an artist, and you long to travel and make pictures. I promise that when I return you shall liuve the best education as an artist that I can command for you, but this year's work is necessary iirst. A man with a vacant mind can be only half an artist. I know that you will work hard this year." I m I' 'til 68 The Voyage of the Constance. " Yes, I will." *' Then you shall commence your studies in good earnest when I come home. Who knows but we may all travel together some day ?" It was a happy prospect, but at that moment Edward could not look at it. His pale face only seemed to grow paler. " Still you are going away. T cannot forget that." *' Edward ! you remember Milton's grand sonnet : — " * God does not need Either man's work or his own gifts ; who best Bear his mild yoke they serve Ilim best : his state Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest. They also serve who only stand and wait.' " I am at the moment one of the thousands who * speed o'er land and ocean at his word,' you have for this short time to ' stand and wait.' If I, feeling as I do that I may be appointed to serve Him by rescuing our lost country- men, hold back, and do not go ; or if you, seeing before you the year's work that I have pointed out to you, refuse to do it, how can we stand before Him ? We ought to be as obedient to the will of God as a man's hand is to him. You remember how we liked those words when your mother read them to us ?" " I remember, father," said Edward, and his face flushed, and hope and energy seemed to arise in him. There was a pause, during which Edward seemed to have made up his mind to bear his disappointment bravely ; but a new sad thought rose in him — the danger to his father. He broke the silence by saying : — 01 di Edward's Fate is Decided, 69 " But wc know that when God calls any one into cir- cumstances such as you are going into, Ho calls him into danger." " Viewing it in one way, that is true. But life is always, as I may say, on the point of death. If a man's breath quite stops for three minutes, life is over. A fall on a level road, a loose tile falling from a roof, a stone thrown by a child's hand, a hundred trilles such as these have all caused death ; while thousands return unharmed from battle-fields, storm, ice, and fire. We can none of us fore- see our fate from one hour to another, and if wo shrink from danger we should never move at all, and might then find that we were in the very midst of it. The only thing is to do the will of God to the utmost of our power, with perfect trust in Him." "I shall never forget your words, father." " If you are ever in danger of it, go to the Fountain- head, my boy. He who came to bear witness to the truth is a perfect example of all I have imperfectly tried to say to you. He did his work with untiring energy. Ho avoided and averted danger till his work was done, and when the hour was come — that dreadful hour ! What ire our little trials to that ? His words were — say them, Edward!" A very low whisper, so soft that no one could have heard the words who did not listen so closely as Captain Arm- strong, said, in obedience and reverence — " * Father, Thy will, not mine, be done.' " 1i| \t-\ If CHAPTER VI. DKPAKTL'in:. .t1 ►Skvi;i:al dnys passed, during ^vlliL'h ilierc was so mucli to do that the family, so soon to bo divided, liad little time to think of the approacliing partinf^. Captain Annstroni*' had to be in London a great deal on business, and was seldom home till late, and even then was engaged in arrangements for the voyage. Margaret and her mamma had numbers of pieces of work to do, preparing warm woollens and furs. Edward wrote, copied, made lists, packed books, went messages. Every one was busy. Sir Launcelot appeared to be quite strong, and ready to begin anothcrjoui'ney. A sack of })eas for his especial use was j)laced among the provisions, so Captain Armstrong said, and that, if they failed, there wore always plenty of split peas in a ship. ^largaret exclaimed, that surely her papa did not mean to stay away till Launcy had eaten a sack of peas, but was answered with a laugh, that she had no idea how much people and pigeons could eat when they got near the pole. Talking about Launcy made JNIargarct think of his box, and at the first opportunity she and Edward set out to see Peter and ask how he was getting on with it. Peter was at work in his shop with his paper cap on when they stopped at his gate, and received them very kindly, insist- ing on their going into the parlour, into which he sum- moned Mrs. Greely, to entertain them while ho finished a little job he was about. ]\Irs. Greely was a very gentle, quiet woman, extremely tidy and precise in her ways, and had her house and everything in it so clean and neat that it rej ti| ail S( w< I h ; Departure. 7 1 it was a wonder that Peter could tliinkofleavincf it, for im reason but to satisfy a roving disposition. Jle never could give any j'eason why he went with Captain Koss, except that ho had thirty shillings a week in an engineer's factory, and did not think they gave him enough woik to do for it, so that one day when a friend came in and asketl him if ho wouldn't like to go to the North Pole he Jinswered, " Well, I don't care if I do," and went. He presently camo in with Sir Launcelot's house, vhich was finished and looked very nice. Ho had j)ut bars of white bone, nicely turned, in front, and made it altogether to the satisfaction both of Edward and Margaret. Tliero was a little trough to hold the food, and ho advised that split peas should occasionally be given as a change, and also grain of some kind, barley or oats for instance ; to which, as he said, pigeons always helped tliomselvos out of the farmers' crops at harvest time. IVEargaret proposed putting in something to hold water, but Peter cpiite dis- approved of that, saying, that as long as water was water it would splas-i about and make tho bird damp and wet, and when it was a lump of ice, what was the use of it to a pigeon ? So ^largaret said, that whoever took charge of Launcy must be told to bo sure to give him water. Edward proposed that a hood of soft leather,'with a few holes for air, should be made to cover the whole in very cold weather, and this was approved. Marjraret next said she wanted Peter to make some shallow boxes to hold earth, that her papa might sow with mustard and cress, as Captain Parry did, and grow it near the stove. Peter said, however, that tho ship's carpenter would soon knock up some boxes ; the diiliculty would bo to find earth. m MrtJ II m h: It 72 TJjc Voyage of the Constance. " But they could land somewhere and fill them," she said. *' It must be somewhere near home, then, miss," said Peter ; " there's mighty little earth to be seen where they're going. It's all liard rock, snow, or ice. You had better tell the Captain of your idea. It's not a bad one. And then, if he thinks he'd like to trj' it, wl'y he can get a sack of earth put aboard at Aberdeen, or the Orkney Islands, if he touches there, and take a bag of seed. That's all, as I see, that he can do." When Edward and Margaret came In siccht of the cotta^^c on their way back, tliey saw a man in a sailor's jacket walking up and down before the door, smoking a short ])ipe; a truck loaded with luggage v/a.^ by his side. Edward divined the trutli in a moment, and darted for- wards, followed by ]\rjirgaret, who ran as fast as she could. He knew the man to be Abel Hardy, one of the seamen of the "Pole-Star," but he did not wait to ask questions. It was all clear to him. The shij) was to sail soone:' than had been expected, and a messenger had been sent for his father. He threw open the drawing-room door. No one was there. He passed through quickly to the study. There stood his father and m-^ther. Her head was resting on her husband's shoulder. Hei face was hidden, but he raised liis at the sound of the opening iloor, and hoUl out his lianil to Edward, who grasped it in both his. No one Bpoko. In another minute ]\[argaret's soft round arms enclosed nil three, and she covereil her father's bent head with kisses. He whispered in Edward's ear — "You are lo set off by train to Aberdeen to-morrow morning, and bring the bird and everything else I leavo ' Departure. 73 beliind in tin's linsfy summons, and sec mo off. Now take away my little Maggie, and leave ns alone." Edward disengaged the clinging arms, and led her gently away. She could scarcely walk ; she was blinded Vy her tears. "God bless ard protect 3-0U, my dear, dear children!" were the last word: tliey heard their father speak. In five minutes more his rpiick, fuMU step was heard in the hall. The door opened and closed, lie was gone. Tliey rushed to a window to see him walk towards tho station. He never looked back but went fast on, followed by Abel with the truck. They \. atched him till he disap- peared behind the trees. It felt very lonely nnd desolate. They crept to tlie study now and then, sind listened and wished to go in, but feared disturbing their mother. Some- times they heard her walking up and down, but generally fIic was very quiet. At last they heard her go up to her own room. In about two hours she sent for them to tho drawing-room, and received them with her sweet smile. They were almost startled at the deadly paleness of her face, but she spoke cheerfully, and set them both to work to assist her in fnii.shing tlu^ packing iind preparations that had necessarily been left unfinished. Edward had also to go to Peter, to ' )11 him to bring tho box, and to coj<l and luiil up the packing-cases. Lauiicy had to be well fed and attended to, that he might be strong and ready for going; and Edward himself had to prepare for starting by the early train. ]3y seven o'clock ne.\t morning he too lunl left home. "Come back safe to us, little dear Launcy," Miii'garet had said, as she s./oked and ki ;sed him belbre she sent him off; "come back :;afe, and bring us good news. Bid Lim good-bye, mamma.' !■ I 1^ 74 ^^^ Voyage of the Constance. Her mother took liim in both lier Imiids, and laid her cheek on liis soft featliers, but eouhl not sjieak. They sat togetlier i'or a h)n<^ while witliout inovinj:^ or saying a word after Edward liad gone ; ^largjiret on a stool at her mother's feet, with her head on her lap. Till this moment there liad been so mueh hnrry and so mneh to do, that it was oidy now tiiey (juite nnd'^'stood how mnch they had lost. ]]iit now it came reidiy home to them. About fhe room lay the remains of their ])aekiiig: ends of cord and string, and ])iecos of brown paper and canvas. Heaps of Ijooks were strewn on tlie floor, thrown there while scle(,'ting those that were to be taken. The sun shone brightly, and Ihe birds sang merrily in the fresh morning. It sonndcd like a mockery to the hearts full of sorrow within, and a large tear fell on Margaret's check. She started nj), and as she looked at her mother's wan face and (piivering lij)S, said — "Come U[) and lie down, dear mamma; I know you liave been np all night at work for papa. You are very, vei'y tired. 1 will bring your breakfast up after you have laid down." Her mother yielded immediately; she knew that sho mast rest ncnv, that sho niiurht be readv for hry dutv, as her liusband had bc-'ii for his. Her head was soon resting on her pillow ; .she had taken some tea, and eaten as much ns she could force herself to take, and then ^Margaret darkened the wimlow. "Open it behind the curtains, dear child ; let me feel the fresh air." ^Margaret obeyed. "Now come to nu% my darling." ^Fargaret threw her arms round the dear neck, received oil cl tl ail w tc 8d ta th The JVanderer'^s Return. 7S one long" kiss and loving look, watched the eyelids as tliey closed over the large tender blue eyes she loved best in the world, kissed away the tears as they slowly formed and glided down between the long black eyelashes ; watched for a few minutes till the measured breathing told her that sleep had come, and then turned away, and softly and on tip-toe left the room, and went down-stairs to take precautions against the least noise that might awake the sleej)er. I CHAPTER VIT. Tin: WAN'DKKER s im:turx. We pass (piickly over a few months aft(>r the period of Captain Armstrong's departure. Summer had gone, autumn had followed, and had brought pleasant letters from him, sent from Upernavik, the most northern of the Danisii settlements on the coast of Greenland. He himself and ail his crew were in good health, and the prospects of the voyage, judging tVom the state of tlie ice, were good. JIo did not forget to mi ntion Sir Launcelot, who, he said, was (juite well, well feil, and his house kept scrupulously clean by Abel Hardy, who, because he liad been at the cott'ge, and seen the '* young lady and gentleinan," seemed to con- sider himself in a special manner their acipiaintance and friend ; and so was very fond of their bird ; and besides all his other good odices towards him, would often take the little fellovy oil duck to onj<'Y i- fresh air when weather permitted. It was a (lUi/ of ri^Piiilig when this letter arrived ; but 76 The Voyage of the Constance, afterwards cnnic tlic fcclin;::^ tliat tlicso were tlic last tidings that must be expected till the dear writer came home again. Meanwhile Mrs. Armstrong had taken the only way that is over effectual to enable us to bear a separation from those wo love with anv kind of firmness. She was never idle for a moment. Sho was so highly educated that she required no aid from masters for ^^Fargaret, so that six or eight hours daily were devoted to teacliing her. Two hoars more they both gave to teaching in a school in which they took an interest. Gardening, walking, and re.'iding, filled up the rest of tlie time. ^Margaret was very hap})y, and the days passed more quickly than her mother would have been able to bc^lieve some months ago. Her saddest though! s were now fuused by anxiety, shared with all who were interested in Caj)lain Collinson's expedition ; and many a time she fe.ired thai poor John would never return. Edward was at a nioro hopeful ago ; but he, as well as Martraret, would often lonu' for John back. hJdward had returned to them from Aberdeen, after seeing his father off, so changed, that sometimes ]\Irs. Armstrong hersi^lf, though she understood the cause, could scarcely realize his present state. lie had always been a fine, good-temperei], good-hearted fellow, but so idle, that when he left Di*. Truman's to come home, that gentleman confidentially advised that Greek and Latin should be given up in his case as hopeless ; that, as to mathematics, though ho had a head for them, he had, as yet, made no ])rogress in them, for want of the necessary attention ; and that, in short, the oidy school in which he would excel would bo one where the examinaiioiis were in cricketing, rowing, swimming, and climbing, inall of which he was a proficient, unless, indeed, ho proved to have a genius for drawing, for The JVanderer^s Return, 11 that all his copy-books wero full of skutchos, and the tinio he ought to spend over his exercises was given to taking views or making caricatures. During the year that ho was under his father, he had, however, so far belied this report, that he had faithfully performed every task set him, and given his utmost atten- tion to every lesson ; and as he was very clever, ho made good progress. This he did because he was so very fond of his father. Every word his father spoke was a law to Edward; everything ho did together v^rith his father, even if it was construing a page of Latin, was a pleasure to him, and, therefore, to work under his father was no ctlbrt. As to his drawing. Captain Armstrong saw enough to believe that his genius lay there, but only allowed him to pursue it at present as an amusement, being fearful of committing the mistake of supposing a boyish fancy was a real talent, and knowing there was plenty of time before him. After the parting, however, which had been such a severe trial to him, a great change came over I'Alward. Jle sud- denly seemed to grow two years older. His habits were entirely altered. He worked very hard. He was never in bed after four or five in the morninij:, so that beft)re the eight o'clock breakfast he hud had two or three hours' study, and his walk of two miles to Dr. Truman's after- wards was always begun in time to take him tliere exactly a i nine. He was at the head of most of his classes, and astonished Dr. Truman very 7uucli indeed. The fact was, that everything his father had said to hinj, every wish ho had expressed, every ho{>e he had seemed to indulge, Edward recollected, and to be and to do exactly what tiiose words, wislies, and hopes aimed at, became tiie aim of his life. His early rising and work in the morning were entirely f 'i 78 The Voyage of the Constance. caused by his desiro not only to do what his father wished at Dr. Truman's, but to try to bo a comfort and pleasure to his mother and sister ; and when ho returned to them in the evening, he was enabled to devote himself entirely to them. In the evenings they walked, read, and enjoyed music, as they used to do ; and when Margaret, who was always on the watch, cried out, "Here conies Edward!" and bounded oil' with Trident to meet him, a gladness seemed to come over the house. Saturday, when he had a half-holiday, and dined with them, and Sunda}', when ho was with them all day, they called their " feast-days." Every Saturday ai'ternoon that weather allowed, they made some long walking excursion ; Edward sometimes bring- ing a schoolfeHow or two with him, or if not, indulging himself witli some sketching ; and in the evening ^Slrs. Armstrong often invited little parties, when they had dancing or games. She tried to avoid letting any of the sadness that she was herself conscious of darken the lives of her children. But it was seldom that Edward had his father out of liis thoughts. It wns one Saturday afternoon in October that they ■were setting of?" for a long wjilk, accompanied as usual by Trident, when Alargaret saiil, " Here comes a lame old man leaning (m a stick up the Drive ; who can it be ?" *' I cannot think," said Kdward. " I do not know him at all, Down, Prident ! Keep close." "He sees us," saiil Margaret, "and has taken off his hat to us, as if he knew us ; and now he is leaning jigainst a tree, as if he could not walk." "That is r.ot an old head," said !A[rs. Armstrong. *' Surely I shouhl know that liglit curly hair. Is it jjos- sible ? Can it bo John Armstrong r" ril (d S£ til hi Hie JFandcrer^ s Return. 79 Edward darted forward at the words, and tlicy soon saw him meet the stranger, and sliakc liands lieartil}'. They hur- ried on, and Edward running baek to meet them, exehiimed, *' It is Jolin, and they liave found tlie north-west passage !" Mrs. Armstrong had soon reached the poor shattered sailor, who, liowever thin and hime ho miglit be, liad still the merry look they knew so well, and held out both his liands to receive her aiVectionate welcome. "John, my dear John, welcome h:)me! ITow many anxious thoughts have we had about you ! I am so haj)py to see you once more !" "And 1 ain delighted to see you, and to be back in old England once more. AVhy, Edward and ^laggie are grown out of all knowledge ! and how well they both look !" and here there was a round of shaking hands and rejoicing. " But what have you been about ? How is it you come back so ill r" asked i\Irs. Armstrong, anxiously. " Oh, 1 am a j)erl'eet beauty to what I was three months ago. The voyage home has (juite set me up. Three winters in the ice are not exactly invigorating, but I shall soon bo well a'jain. J)()n"t be anxious about me. I should not have been so ill but for an unlucky sprain which j)revented me from walking, and to be prevented from taking vigorous exercise at forty below zero is no joke." "But is it true ? Did 1 really hear Edward rightly ? Have you found the north-west passage r" "We have. Ca])tain ^rClure has the honour of solv- ing that long-sought [)r(jbleni." " It's glorious news !" ci'ied Edward, " How glad I am it was your shij) that did it! Js Caj)tain M'Clurecome home safe, and has the good old ' Investigator' escaped })retty easily out of her battles with the ice'r" ■ '4 1 « 8o The Voyage of the Constance, " I hope Captain ^rClure will come home safe and well, but as to the good old ' Investigator,' her battles are all over. She is left cnelosed in the ice, and M'Clurc is on board the 'Resolute,' with all our ship's comp.'iny, except a few of us who returned under Lieutenant Cresswell with his despatches in the ' Phoonix.' " " I will not allow another question," said Mrs. Arm- strong, " till you have come in with us and rested. I know Edward was just going to say, ' where is the pas- sage ?' but you must not now, Edward. One question, only I must ask, and yet I know I need not ; I know you would have told us instantly." " You mean, have we any tidings of Franklin ? No, oh, no!" said John, his merry voice becoming sad in a moment : " we only found out where he had not been by the astonishment of the natives at the sight of white men and a ship." " Now, take my arm, John, lean on me, and corao in to your own home, dear John." " Do you know," said he, " that though I do long to be in that dear home again, yet I should like very much to lie down here at the root of this bircli-tree, among the ferns. You cannot imagine what a delight the greenness, the grass, and flowers, and trees, are to nie. It all looks like Paradise ! it is Paradise ! and only fancy my being actually too tired at this minute to feel able to walk that little bit that lies between us and the door. Two years ago I thought i/othing of forty miles a day. Do sit down, all of you, by me, and let us rest here. The air feels fresh, though it is too hot ; but I should have been dead if I had stayed another night in London." *' Then you arrived yesterday ?" rn w| a sH lu Ul \\\ i\ cl TJie JFanderer's Return. 8i ** Only liist niglit; too luto to conic ofl' hero directly." At a word fnjni Mrs. Armstrong, Margaret and Edwartl ran oil* to the house, and soon returned witli a tray covered with some refreshment. ^Margaret had only bargained in a whisper tliat her mamma would not let John talk, lur she did not want to miss anything ho told, and in truth he only occupied the time in asking (juestions about his uncle. He had heard in London that the " Pole-Star'' had sailed. In the midst of their conversation they found that ^Fargarct and Edward had begun spreading the lun- cheon among the ferns. The sight alono of frait, ajjples, pears, and grapes, and of a salad, seemed to refresh John at once. Having eaten something of everything they offered him, intermixed with a hundred (questions about home afl'airs, for he declared he felt like a man risen from the dead, and wanted to know about all sorts of things, public and i)rivate, he ended by pronouncing a rhapsody over a bunch of gra[)es which he stripped to the last gra})e, ^Margaret laughing heartily, and ho laughing in chorus, and then exclaimed that he only wished every poor fellow that came from a long voyage could have such a welcome as ho luid had. " But you look so tired, John," said Mrs. Armstrong, "your eyes are half shut." " I. am very sleepy. I never closed my eyes in that liot room in the hotel in London last night. Let me sleep hero for an hour or two, and then I will come in with you as fresh as a lark." " But you will catch cold, for whatever you may say about heat, it is a cold autumn day." " Cold ! what, a man used to sleep on the snow under a tent, with his wot boota for a pillow, catch cold among 6 I ' 82 The Voyage of the CoHstance. IIjc terns niwl licatlu'r ! Call mo in two or tlirco hours! (l«)()(l-ni;^lit !" And ho was asloop in a nionicnt. " Wo iniisi tako j^i-eai- cari! of him," said ^Fi's. Ann- vstronii', Idokint,'- at. him as ho lay, " and niako him woU and s<ron<,^ if wo can. "\Vo must not loavo him horo alono. Lot us have an aftoi-noon of gardonin^^ iiistoad of our walk; thoro is jilonty to do." ISo hoos, rakos, and spados, wore brouglit out, and thoy worked very busily till ilwas time to irct ready for dinner, and tlii'ii awoke tho sleeper. lie o])ened his eyes, saiil ho was <rlad to fnid ho was still tluM'o, and that it was not all a dream: shook hands again with them all round, and then went in with them. His raptures began oyer again in tho cottage; only ho snid, that tliough the win(h)\vs wore all ojion, the heat was dreailt'ul. but ho supposed lu; should soon learn to bear it. CHAPTER VIII. Tin; Nnirni-wKST tassace. AViiF.N' evening had come and the lamp was lighted, and John, stretched on a sofa, ami thoroughly rested and re- freshed, had pi-ctty nearly exhausted his questions and heard all tho news that they could tell him, ho took a pen- and-ink chart out of his pocket, and said he would show them the famous passage. ''Here is our course," said he, "by (!apc Horn and llehring's Straits. We sent letters homo from Kotzebuo Sound, and also by the ' Herald.' " '' Tho.se we rccciycd," said Mrs. Armstrong. 77?^ North- IFi'st Passaic. 83 **Wo (TosscmI tlio Ai'ctic Circlo on tlio 'JlHli of July, lHr)0, jiiul lirsi saw i\w ice extending jilieud of us when wo {^'ot into IJi'lirini^^'s Struits." " Did yt)U SCO the herds (if walruses Captain Cook tells of?" asked Kdwanl. "Indeed, we did! J']nornions nundu-rs of them were on the iee-tields, baskinL,^ in tlu5 sun. Great monsters with lont^ tusks, and females with their euhs, makini^ the strjini,''est fi;and)ols. The me!i had load<;d a gun and were going to lire nj)ou them, but ^['Clun; was so struck and aileeted by the loving feeling of the mothers and children that he forbade them." "I am so glad of that," cried ^Margaret ; " T never can think why men like to kill creatures whenever they see them happy and wild." "And the wjdrus is not at all a ferocious creatui'c. It is fjuite harndess unless attacked, and feeds on the plants that grow in the sea. Jiut the Ksquimaux must attack them for their own subsistence. To them the llesh, oil, skin, and tusks of tlie walrus are all valuable." " Well, at any rate, Captain M'Clure was very kind." " So ho was, !Maggio. You must understand ue had already parted company with the 'Enterprise.' Captain CoUinson is likely to bring her home again by Ca])e Horn, I hear." "What! though the north-west ])assage is found!" said Edward. "Wait a bit, and you will hear how that is," replied John. " Now find Capo ]Jarrow, the north-west extreme point of America. We rounded that cape at midnight, about ten miles from the coast, and turned our faces home- \\\ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. /. y. ^ 1.0 I.I |^|Z8 ■so l"^" 2 5 ll!-L M Z2 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ■ ^ ^// ► V] <^ /J 'c^l '^ %.^^V.v .V' 7 y /^ Photograpliic Sciences Corpomtion 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 :% "w c^ Ij t .; I: :\ 8^ The Voyage of the Constance. ward. The 'Investigator' w<as the first sliip that had entered the Arctic Sea by Behring's Straits." " That is one good thing," said Margaret, at which John had a good fit of laughing. "We thought so too, Maggie," said he. " We were in a state of great excitement, I can assure you, and every railo of easting that we made the merrier were we. The sailors were just the same. Loud songs and cheers rang over the ice. There it lay before us, a waste of ice as far as the eye could see in the direction of Melville Island." *' Just like Parry's account of his sailing westward," said Edward. " I suppose you got to where he stopped, that is what I expect to hear." " Wait a minute ! you sail too fast. Master Edward. We had to struggle on our coarse through such difficulties as are not mastered very quickly. We kept very near the coast, sailing through the land water — a shallow lane of water between the coast and the ice-line." " How wide is it ?" asked Edward, " It Varies from a few yards to a mile. The ice is of immense thickness, twenty or thirty feet at least, and the open water, narrow as it is, is encumbered besides with floating pieces. I have known the ships tremble in every timber, and groan as we struck against them in the dense fogs that prevail there. In this way we sailed on till wo were nearly in the longitude of Melville Island, but quite five degrees to the south. What lay between we did not know. I have missed out numbers of adventures, storm.:, meeting with Esquimaux, and all manner of things. I want to go straight on to the discovery of the passage, you know." ''Yes, but you will tell us all the rest afterwards," said TJie North-West Passage. 85 Margaret. " We shall have plenty of talk for the winter i p evenings 55 " We soon found we had land on the north. AYe named it Baring Land, but afterwards we found it was the southern point of the same island — for island it is — that Parry named Banks' Land, seeing as he did its northern coast." "Yes, I see it here on your chart," said Edward. " We sailed up this strait that you see here, and named it Prince of Wales' Strait. Now began our excitement." " To be sure : you were getting quite near the point where Parry wintered." " We knew that we were only sixty miles from Melville Sound, communicating with Barrow Strait. Only one week more of open water, and we should find the north- west passage." " Ah, but y^'u could not be sure that the strait was not closed in by land, and would turn out to be only a sound or inlet of the sea." " We could not be sure, but everything looked like the contrary. The north-west wind brought the heavy sea-ice drifting down upon us, that was one sign." " And did you get through?" "We endured such battering among that same sea-ice as I could give you no idea of, if I had time even. M'Clure bore it all without flinching. The wind blow from the south. On we went, churning through a drifting sea of ice, amidst darkness and snow. No matter, so that it was towards the north-east. To o'o into harbour for the winter only sixty miles from Melville Sound was a thing not to bo thought of. On the 23rd of September, however, the wind increased to a gale, we were beset in the pack, and drifted i f '.i::l 86 The Voyage of the Constance. on helplessly Avith tlie ice. You know the meaning of my ice-language, I think ?" *'Yes, yes," said Edward. " AYe know that to be * beset in the pack' means to be caught fast in the great mass of loose ice extending beyond one's sight." " The furious gale drove the pack and our ship with it towards the high cliffs of an island we saw before us ; they %yere four hundred feet high. There was nothing to be done; we were powerless." Edward remembered his father once saying, when they were talking of shipwrecks and dreadful danger by sea and land, " When you are powerless, remember that you are in His hand, whose power and love are infinite, and endure with patience and courage to the end." " How did the crew bear it ?" he asked. " Not a man looked pale or lost courage ; all stood on deck, facing those cliffs. I heard what two of the sailors said at one moment : ' It looks a bad job this time,' said one. * Yes,' answered the other, shading his eyes from the driving snow, and looking steadily at the dark cliffs looming through it, ' the old craft will double np like an old basket when she gets alongside of those rocks.' " " Oh, John, go on !" said Margaret. " Onward we drove ; we were only five hundred yards from the cliffs ; we could hear the sea-birds on them screaming ; when, instead of the crash we expected, we were carried on by the tide that set round their base, and swept — or coaclt-ivheeleil , as the sailors call it — past the island." "It was a wonderful escape," said Mrs. Armstrong. " It w^as, and this day reconciled M'Clure to lay up tho ship for the winter. It was very trying, but yet we were all o;r( I' I The North-IVest Passage. 87 all glad when, after some severe nips, in which every tinihcr groaned and cracked, and the bells began to ring with the surging and trembling, we finally settled down in the ice.'" *' Well, then, when did you discover the passage ?" " After the ship was safely housed in for the winter, and everything had shaken into its regular order — and very well and very happy we were, I assure you — Captain M'Clure started with a slodge-party to the northward, overland. It was on the 21st October, the thermometer below zero, and the travelling very difficult over rough ice and through deep, drifted snow. We pitched our tent at night, and rested content with a little frozen pemmican and some melted snow." " What is pemmican ?" asked Margaret. " Edward knows, as he saw his father's stores, I dare say. It is a compound of meat, with the fat, but without bones, pressed together firmly, and much used for long voyages, from containing bo much nourishment in little space. Do you understand, Maggie ?" Margaret said she did, and that she wanted hira to go on. " It took us five days of this travelling to reach the foot of a hill that we had long looked to as a landmark, and expected we should be able to make our observations from." " But could you not get to its top ?" " Not that night. We were obliged to halt there, and pitch our tent. You must remember we had but little day- light now. The sun only rose a few degrees above the horizon, and soon sank again. But before sunrise next morning, M'Clure, with a small party, began the ascent of the hill. It was the 26th of October. We rcache ' the top, and patiently waited for the increase of light. As the I > ! II:' ■i'K'* ^*i I Vfil I \\\ !'V, ii' 88 T7ie Voyage of the Constance. sun rose, the panorama was slowly unveiled : the coast of Banks' Land ended about twelve miles from where we stood, and then turned away to the north-west; away to the north lay the frozen waters of Melville Strait, bounded to the north by Melville Island. There was no land between — nothing but the hills and dales of blue crystalline ice described by Parry. We had reached the sea where he stopped. The north-west passage was discovered !" " What did you feel ? what did you do ? " asked Ed- ward. " I think there was a low, fervent sound, like ' Thank God I' that rose from among us." *' It was a worthy moment for thankfulness," said Mrs. Armstrong. " And did all the men come on ?" asked Margaret. *' They did, and we went on altogether to the north-east point of the island; M'Clure named it Cape Lord John Russell. There we encamped for the night. As we i-eached the shore of Melville Strait the men cheered lustily ; they lighted a bonfire — a miniature one, certainly, made of a broken sledge and some dwarf willow — and had an extra glass of grog. Next morning we built a cairn, hoisted the English flag on it, buried a record of our visit under it, and turned homewards — I mean shipwards." " I suppose you had a warm welcome when you got there with your good news ?" " You may be sure of that, and very welcome and warm we found the good ship too. Poor old ' Investigator !' It is sad to think of her lying there deserted now !" " I cannot let you think or talk more to-night, John," said Mrs. Armstrong. " Take him up to his room, Edward. I only fear wo have let him tell us too much." lia nif on I r ne Rescue. 89 « I .ill obey, fov I do feel rather tired M nd I^mus have my window wide oper,, and no W'^"^'^*^ , ?°;^^ St ! I can hardly believe I am going to sleep at home once more. >> m CHAPTER IX. THE RESCUE. It was several days before John was able to leave his r ol His happiness at first had made hxm -PPe- betto Lnhereallywas. But the good nursing he recewed ^^ the cheerful evenings with Edward, who -^-^H^^'^l'^^, after he came in, soon began to have a good f^'J^^^^ and by the Saturday that ended the ^^^^^ to rest t!ke I short walk in the woods, often stoppmg to rest. t:^ with the wide views of the — - th^^ exclamations he would sometmies make a. the ^-^ ^ Z commonest wild «-- -^^V^'XlIra^ -- than any description -"Id '.avocion^ w ,at adr. ^y ^^^^^ he had been accustomed to look upon lui ^•^'When they were returning, and talcing their last rest •., • M nf the cottano-roof which rose among the trees, iri: £ed ti'helalfound such a ^^^^l;:^ the heather, and such a soft log for a pdlow, that if they nllTnduUe him by sittin g still for a little longer he would TwInU et by tellhig, wlilt he knew Margaret in espec. V,11 of curiosity to know, how he managed to get Tomriud ~he%elt so comfortable about Captain ■ % I ' I t 1 i) V I ^ Ml >> go The Voyage of the Constance, M'Clure and liis crew, tliougli tlic poor " Investigator could not bring them. " Oh, tliank you, John !" cried Margaret ; " I made Ed- ward promise he woukl not let you tell him without mamma and me, and I know he has kept his word. But before you begin I want to ask you one question : did you keep Christ- mas-day ?" " Yes, we did, every year — even our last dreary winter. We had rehgious service, and we managed to make some- thing like a feast, and to get up some games, some good stories, and o-ood laui'-hs." " And did you think of us ? We always thought of you, and drank your health, and wished for you safe home agam. " I did indeed ! Many a time did my heart turn to you all, and to my dear home — my home since I was a boy of ten years old. I remember, as well as if it were yesterday, how your mother and father came for me to my grim old school, for which I had no fancj^, and brought me away to this very cottage we see there among the trees, and never let me go again except to my ships, and always welcomed me back from every voyage. I remember thinking Undo Henry had married the most beautiful and the sweetest lady in all the world. No orphan-boy had such a home as I had, I believe. But, Maggie, I will go on witi: my story now : you know I left off in Prince of Wales' Strait ; we never moved till July of next summer." " We are in '51 now," said Edward. " The year of the Great Exhibition in London, and such a fine warm summer ! What a contrast to yours ! " " Contrast enough ! We had drifted to within twenty- five miles of Melville Sound, but there we found the ylsi The Rescue, gi impenetrable pack ice extending from shore to shore. It was vain to hope to get through it, so M'Clurc made up his mind at once. The helm was put up ; the good ship wore round upon hor keel, set all sail, and sped rapidly to the south-west before the wind, to round the southern shore of Banks' Land, pass up its western coast, and enter Melville Sound by its northern coast. We had a splendid run, with six miles widtli of clear water on the southern shore, always seeing the great ice-field beyond. This lasted till we changed our course to the noiih ; but I can give you no idea of the stupendous nature of the west coast of Banks' Land. The ice drew from forty to fifty feet water — I mean, it was forty or fifty feet thick below the water — and some- times a hundred above it. The cliffs, on the other hand, were precipices of four or five hundred feet in height ; be- tween these we sailed. The lane of water had diminished to two hundred yards, sometimes much less. Once the quarter-boats had to be topped up, to prevent them touch- ing one or the other. Once tlie lower studding-sail boom had to be topped up for the same reason. We reached the north-west point of the island, however, after a narrow enough escape, and there we were beset : there was not room to drop a lead-line down round the vessel, and the copper upon her bottom was hanging in shreds or rolled up like brown paper." " Y ju had had a battle with the ice, indeed ! " " Yes ; I fancy Sebastopol is not harder to conquer. We used to make excursions ashore while we were beset, and among other things we found that there had been great forests of trees there once : portions of them, chiefly fossilized, appeared in the ravines in whole layers." m m i i l' t 1 i?-j.i f 1 ! < •I i ?m; 92 The Voyage of the Constance. " How very curious ! " said Edward. " Docs anything grow tliere now ? " "Largo tracts aro covered witli tlie moss on wliich rein-deer feed. There aro some coarse grasses, and here and there anemones, sorrel, poppies, and saxifrage. WiUow and birch are found, Imt certainly not of very splendid growth ; some of them may reach the height of five inches." " John, you are laughing at us !" *' No, indeed, it is quite true. The fossil trees were not very large ; we measured some, about a foot and a half in diameter, but there may be larger, that we did not see. It will perhaps set learned people speculating to think at what time the climate was mild enough to grow them. They were extremely hard and heavy." "And were tliere many animals?" " Immense herds of deer and musk-oxen ; and contrary to usual experience in the Arctic regions, they did not migrate southward in winter." " That will surprise people, too," said Edward. " We saw numbers of ptarmigan also, and I must not forget the fish. How you would have liked to see them, Maggie ! "VVe found two deep fresh- v/ater lakes ; one of them had no fish at all, the other was crowded with tlie prettiest little salmon-trout, and after it was frozen over wo could see them as plainly as possible through the beautiful transparent ice, sporting about." " I should have liked to see them very much," said Margaret. " Then how far did you sail ? Did you get into Mel- ville Sound? That is what I want to know," said Edward. " We did, but we were again driven into the pack, and had such tremendous conflicts with the ice that Ave were th The Rescue, 93 tliaiikful to jL^ct into a safe bay on tlio northern coast of Banks' Land — so thankful, indeed, that M'Cluro named it * the Bay of God's ]\teroy.' There wo lay thronf^^h the winter of '51-2, and there the ' Investij^ator' lies still : we never got her out. In vain throughout the next summer, we looked for an opening. Wo employed the season in making sledge-journeys in search of Franklin. During the course of the season, also, M'Clure crossed the ice with a sledge and visited Winter Harbour, in Melville Island ; he hoped to have found provisions or even a ship there, and was bitterly disappointed to find nothing." " Did he see Parry's stone at the entrance of the har- bour, ten feet high, with the names of the ' Hecla ' and * Griper ' engraved on it ?" asked Edward. " Yes, and left a record of his own visit on the top of it, telling where the ' Investigator ' lay, and of his discovery of the north-west passage ; and thereby hangeth a tale." " Oh ! what ?" cried Margaret. " You shall hear in good time. We were now in '52 you know ; and though we got abundance of fresh provi- sions, venison, and beef, yet many were on the sick list. The long darkness tried the men, but more than all, the disappointment at Melville Island, which caused anxiety and despondency. The winter of '52-3 came on, and then we were on short allowance, besides all else, for our captain had to provide against the chance of even a fourth winter, and to think how it would be if the ice never opened throughout the summer of '53. Our coal fell short too, and we suffered from damp as well as cold." " Ah, you have gone through much suffering ; I do not Avonder at your pale face now." It would have gone worse with us but for the venison. (( t ■'' ■ Pn ' ■ n i ! I li 94 The Voyage of the Constance. Strange to sny, the door lianntcd tlic noinhbonrliood of tlio ship. Tlio extreme cold, tlie darkness — tlioun-li tliat was relieved often ])y splendid moonlights and by the aurora — and onr weakness, would have prevented our following them, but we liad only to be out a few honrs to bring in three or four. ]\I'Clure called them our * manna.' 1 have not told you of my accident and sprain ; T will .another time. It threw me on the sick list, with many others. When the spring of 'oo came on, it was too evident that a nnmber of ns could not stand another winter. ]\l'Clui'o had made up his mind not to desert his ship till forced by dire necessity, but he determined to send off his weakest hands, in hopes of their reaching home by some ship, or other aid. We were told off in two parties of fifteen each , one under Lieutenant Has well, to journey to Griftlth's Island, where he knew Captain Anstin had left a boat, and in her to attempt to reach Greenland." " Griffith's Island !" exclaimed Edward. " It is an immense jonrney from Mercy Bay. Sick, disabled men, to make sucli a journey, and then row to Greenland !" " It was a forlorn hope," replic . John ; " but wo had to take our choice of one forlorn hope or another. The second party was to retreat npon Princess Royal Island — that island whose cliffs we so nearly struck npon, and which we honoured with this name — we had left a depot of provisions and a boat there in case of need. The second party, there- fore, was to take this boat, load it with the j)rovisions, and push for the Coppermine liiver, to the Hudson's Bay territories, and thence home." '' That sounds like an easier journey, and yet we know- by Franklin's experience thirty years ago what it might be," said Mrs. Armstrong. an fe 1 wtm The Rescue. 95 " Yes, \vc know that ; but wo said nothing' to the men, nnd all kept up heart, though ho sure that many a poor fellow as he limped about the ship with black and swollen limbs, knew full well, that though the journey would be his only chance for life, yet it was but a very poor one : and M'Clurc, with those who were to remain — theirs was, perhaps, even less." " I sec you here before me, or I should despair of it altogether," said Mrs. Armstrong. " We were to start on the ir>th of April ; meanwhile, we had every care and rest and extra food to prepare and strengthen us. The first death that had occurred among us since we left England happened on the 5tli. It had a bad moral effect, and our captain made an address to us that day. A brave and niPi ly nddress it was. He re- minded us of the difficulties mastorcu, the honours won, the rewards that were before ii ;, tiie merciful Providenco which had hitherto upheld us. He ended with these words — how often have I thought of them since ! — * In the gloomiest hour of trial, relief may and often does come, and the darkest cloud has a silvery side.' " It was the Gth of April ; one week before we were to start. M'Clure and the first lieutenant were walking near the ship, deliberating how to dig a grave for the poor follow who had died, while the ground was frozen so hard, when a figure was seen rapidly walking towards them from the rough ice at the entrance of the Bay. From his pace and gestures they fancied he was one of our party pursued by a bear. Presently he began to speak and gesticulate. The high wind carried his words away and brought only wild shouts to their ears. His dress was strange and unlike ours. His face covered with a black mask. They .(!■ ! ) 1 ' y I .i 96 The Ycyage of the Constance. stood still in astonisliment, and wlien his words reached them they seemed incredible. "'I'm Lieutenant Pirn, late of the " Herald," now of the ** Resolute." Caprain Kellet is in her off Melville Island.' " You may think how they rushed at him, and seized his hands. You may think how the news that relief had come, that our country had not forgotten us, that a stranger was among us, flew through the ship. The sick forgot their weakness, and leaped from their hammocks ; the workmen dropped their tools and ran to the hatchway. Lieutenant Pirn will never forget the welcome he had that d.,y." "No wonder! no wonder!" said Mrs. Armstrong. Edward and Margaret had each hold of one of John's hands. He had risen up from his heather bed and soft pillow in his excitement. " We knew of the mission of the ' Resolute * and ' In- trejoid' to look for you," said Mrs. Armstrong, "or our anxiety would have been dreadful. It was mainly owing to Mr, Cresswell, the father of your first lieutenant, whose letter to the Admiralty succeeded in rousing the fears of Government about Captain CoUinson's expedition. My husband had also exerted himself about it the very moment he returned from his own voyage. I was glad to hear you mention the ' Enterprise ' as likely to come home." " Yes, she has made some important discoveries in geography, and will arrive soon, I hope ; but has heard nothing of Franklin." " But was Lieutenant Pim all alone ? and how did he find out where you were P" asked Margaret. " No, he was not alone. Two men came up soon after him with a dog-sledge. As to how he found us, that is my ^ r- 'I'm-: IIkscik of tiii-; " I.w i stujv loi! I i: The Rescue. 97 * tale.' The * Resolute ' arrived at Melville Island in the aatumn of 1852, and soon afterwards a sledge party went to Winter Harbour to deposit provisions, and look out for our expedition, and the lieutenant in command found, to his joy, M'Clure's document on Parry's famous stone, telling of the discovery of the north-west passage and the position of the ' Investigator.' The moment, therefore, that spring permitted another sledge party to start. Lieutenant Pirn was sent off to us. He left the ' Resolute' on the 10th of March, and reached the * Investigator,' as I have said, on the 6th of April." "And now, what did you do next ?" " Our captain set off back to the * Resolute ' with Pim^^ to confer with Captain Kellett, still determined to stand by his ship. We, the sick, were despatched in detachments, and by the aid of sledges and the abundance of food which •we could now freely use, we reached the two ships in safety, and met with indescribable care and kindness ; and it was not long before we were joined by M'Clure and the remainder of our crew. However much Captain Kellett might sympathize in M'Clure's desire to stand by his ship, he could not, as the superior officer, sanction it. Two more men had died ; the medical officer's report w^as very bad ; M'Clure was obliged to yield. So they landed the stores and provisions for the use of Collinson or any one else ; secured the ship so as to prevent her being blown to sea in any future gale ; hoisted the colours to the mast- head ; and turned their backs on her as sorrowfully as you would on any well-tried friend in his adversity. Soon afterward^} Lieutenant Cresswell was sent off with a sledge party to Beechey Island, where the * Phoenix' steamer was. I accompanied him, and with him returned home in her. I ■' ' it I" m... m h U ■j* I !i : '\ 98 77ie Voyage of the Constance. hope the two ships will soon follow us j they only waited fov the ice to break up." " Our hearts are very grateful that you are safe with us, after all these dangers," said Mrs. Armstrong ; and then she sat silent, shading her face with her hand. She never uttered any of the sad forebodings that she felt herself; but her thoughts had flown to him who was in the midst of dangers equally great, and in remote regions, where no ships were likely to meet with him, or rescue him, if he needed it. The melancholy tone of John's voice as he went on seemed to echo her thoughts. " We have brought home one very sad piece of news. Bellot, the French officer, who was beloved like a brother throuo-liout Sir Edward Belcher's squadron, is dead ; lost in a chasm of the ice." *' Oh ! how deeply grieved my husband will be for him," said Mrs. Armstrong. *' No one that knew him will ever forget him," said John. " Even the Esquimaux mourned for him. He had done them many kind offices. * Poor Bellot !' they would say, shaking their heads. ' Poor Bellot !' " CHAPTER X. TRIDENT. On Sunday evening, John, who was beginning to get stronger every day, joined Edward and Margaret in a walk to the village, to call on Peter. He said he longed to see the old fellow again, and hear what he would say about the " Investigator " and her discovery. Trident. 99 Peter was sitting in his parlour, in his respectable Sun- day clothes, reading his weekly paper, and came out to the gate to let them in, in a state of excitement, such as he very seldom showed, for he was very much pleased to see John, who had always been a great favourite with him. " Come in, come in, sir !" said he ; " and Master Ed- ward and Miss Margaret. I am very glad to see you come back safe, sir; only you do look wonderful bad. Come down, Susan ! Here's the lieutenant come back from the North Pole. Sit down, sir; please to sit down all. Here's cheers." Mrs. Greely soon made her appearance, looking as nice, and fresh, and bright as possible, in her best gown and cap. She made many curtsies, and said the visit was very kind, and begged them to be seated. " I was just reading the account of the north-west passage in the papers," said Peter. " You do look bad, though, Mr. John. Why, you're not above half the size you was when you went. I spent fifteen shillins a- week on the doctors all the first year after I come home, and you're like to do the same to all appearance." John laughed, and said he hoped not, and asked Peter what he thought of the news ? " It's a good thing the north-west passage is found, and so we shan't have men risking their lives looking for it," said he. " As to the passage itself, what's the use of it? I don't see any, unless ships can be made to sail over ice. Perhaps we shall have some patent discovery of that kind soon." " Well, but then, Peter, you wouldn't have given it up ? Confess, now, you would have gone on trying till you made it out somehow?" said Edward. ■■i»] M ! I Hi 1, \ \^ 100 The Voyage of the Constance. Peter gave various grunts, but it was impossible to say exactly what tliey meant, Then ho looked down at the lieutenant's lame foot, and said, " Frost bite, I suppose?" " Sprain first and frost bite afterwards," replied John. " AVhat are they going to do for you, d'ye think, after all this ?" was his next question. *' According to you, I have not done anything to deserve much of a grateful country," replied John. "Your captain's not come home, neither, yet," said Peter. " They won't set about the reward till then. Per- haps the * Resolute ' will be froze up again. Who knows ? You left her at Melville Island, they say." *' I devoutly hope she will not," said John. *' But ' who knows,' Peter, as you truly observ^e." They must give the reward for discovery of the north- west passage — that's a promisee, you know — and your ship did it; unless, indeed, Fraiddin should be found, and it turns out he discovered it before you." *' And I am sure there is not a man among us who would not joyfully give it up to him, if it was a hundred times as much." " I believe ye, sir," said Peter. " But, without any detriment to Franklin, T hope you will get a good share of it. I'm sure there's not an oliicer in her majesty's navy deserves it better tlian you." " Thank you, Peter, heartily, for your good opinion of me. i> " I'm glad, though, sir," said Peter, " you don't expect much. It's best not. "\Yhon we were aboard of the * Isabella,' I said to Barney Wood, one of our seamen, says I, 'We're all to be kings and queens when we land, you know. Now I bet you a sljillinthe first man we meet when I ',<' n Trident, lOI wc touch EnglisTi ground, will try to cheat us.* ' Done,' saj^s Barney. Well, he and I landed at Woolwich in the steamer out of a boat with two other men, We see them pay sixpence each, so we lugged out sixpence. 'It's a shillin,' says the waterman. ' You cheating knave,' says T, * we saw those men pay sixpence.' 'No matter,' says he; * you owe me a sliillin each.' ' What's the row ?' says a lad ashore. ' We're two o' the " Victory's " crew,' says I, * and he wants us to pay a shillin for landing us.' A crowd gathered in no time, and they began hooting and abusing the waterman ; and in the midst of the confusion we cut away, and paid nothing at all." " At all events," said Edward, " the crowd, like worthy representatives of ' a grateful country,' took your side." " Yes, but I won my bet for all that," said Peter. " So you did," said John. " But how happened it you landed at Woolwich ? I thought the ' Isabella ' was bound for Hull." " Slie was, sir, but I'll tell you how that was. When wo got to the Humber the officers went ashore in a steamer. We laid at anchor for the tide. Next day morning we got under weigh at four o'clock, and should have been in at seven. As we came nigh we saw every place crowded, where there was a view, to see us land ; as thick as bees the people were. I should tell you, that before Captain Ross went ashore we mustered and asked him for some money. ' Oh !' says he, 'you don't want any money yet.' Well, all we wanted was to get ashore at Hull." " I've no doubt of that," said John. *' We knew we should have been treated to anything. But, first of all, before we went ashore we thought we would have a slap-up breakfast. You see, when we first got ■ m I I. .1 i i' i! 102 The Voyage of the Constance. aboard of the ' Isabella ' in Baffin's Bay, Captain Ross says to Captain Humphreys — that was the name of the captain of the ' Isabella,' — ' jSTow,' he says, ' Captain Humphreys, I give these men to your charge and disposal.' ' Proud I am,' answered he, ' to take charge o' such a set o' men. Well, my lads,' says he, 'you as like to work may work, and you as like to play may play, and when I serve out grog to my crew I serve out grog to you all.' Three cheers at that." "Of course," said John. "But after breakfast, Avhat then?" " Oh, you have not got to breakfast yet." " What, ' 'twixt the cup and the lip there's many a slip,' was that it :" " That's where it is, sir. We'd spread our table all com- fortable, when the London steamer came alongside. Some one sings out, ' Here's a steamer ! Come up and have a look at the London steamer.' She popped up alongside and demanded sixteen of the ' Victory's ' crew. There was a death blow !" "Then you did not like to go to London?" asked Margaret. " 'No, no, miss. It was at Hull we wanted to land. The people was like bees, as I said before, waiting for us. Well, the ' Isabella ' was lashed astarn of the steamer, and we were handed over the starn and oflP we went. The men put our luggage into the boat and sent it aboard, and gave us three cheers, which w^e returned." " It was rather hard, too," said Edward. " And you had had no breakfast either, after all the trouble of getting it," said Margaret, looking reproachfully at John, who was laughing. Trident, 103 , ' Xow, " As soon as we parted I says to our steward Bill, what do you tliink o' this ? Hero we are ! no money in our pockets, and no breakfast!' 'It's a bad job,' says he. Well, it was a job I couldn't sanction nohow. So I takes off my cap and goes round the deck to the passengers, and says, ' " Victory's " crew !' and I think I collected sixteen shillins. I called all our men together and showed them how much. Then we called the steward o' the steamer, and asked him if he couldn't accommodate us with some breakfast. Ham and beef; quart o' rum; dozen o' stout ; dozen o' ale." " Well done, Peter !" said John. " He says, ' I've some news to tell ye. Captain Ross called at our office last night, and he left £2 for each man, and said that was to pay your passage to London, and keep you for a few days ; but the steamboat company, taking into consideration the hardships we had endured, they had given us a free passage to London, and he was to supply us with provisions at cost price.' At this hand- some conduct we gave three cheers. This roused the ship. All the passengers came forward to see us, and mighty civil they were." "Well, come," said John, "you got on pretty well after all." " Captain Ross," said Peter, " had three dinners pro- vided for him at Hull, where he went and showed hisself, and then he posted to London and dined with the king." " N'o, no, Peter; I think he was presented to the king," said John. " Oh, well, it may be so. I want to ask you some questions, sir, about this account of your voyage in the papers, if you will be so good as explain about it." * 1^ m i <' i .' ll I Ml li ■]. 104 T/;£? T%^^^ of the Constance. " I will, with the greatest pleasure," replied Jolin. *' I'll call again soon, and tell you anything you want to bear, but we must go now. It's getting late." " Good evening, sir, then, and thank you for coming ; and the same to you, Master Edward, and Miss Margaret." "Yes, I'm sure," said Mrs. Greely, "and I wish you better soon, sir." " Old Greely has always a great deal of truth on his side in his dry remarks," said John, as they walked away. "Everybody at home is thinking too much about the Crimean war to care much about discoveries in the xirctic seas, I fancy." "They do care," said Margaret, indignantly. "I am sure it would be a great shame if they did not." " So it would, Maggie. Only think of Peter having taught me to grumble ! AYhat a fine dog that is of yours! What has become of poor old Xep ? I have been on the point of asking after him a dozen times, but we have had 80 much to talk of that I never have." " Poor old fellow, he died last year," said Edward. "And where did you get this one ? This is a liner dog than ISTeptune was." "I am sure you will laugh, John, when 3'ou hear," said Margaret. "I'll tell you how it was," said Edward. "When Sir Hugh lived at the Cedars — before he went to Aberdeen, you know — he had a favourite Newfoundland called Chloe, who had three puppies and then died." "We were so sorry," said Margaret, "and so was Sir Hugh." "He had the puppies brought up by hand," continued Edward, " and great care taken of them. We often used i Trident, lOi to go and see them, and Nep always went witli us, and lie took the most extraordinary affection for tliem ; he used to lick them all over, and when they began to run abont, would lie down and let them play with liis tail, and bite his ears, and jump about him. At last he took to trotting off to Sir Hugh's by himself, and staying there for a good while with them." " Yes, and he used to lead them out on the lawn there," added Margaret, " and look after them when they played about ; and if you had seen how fierce he was if any stranger came near them ! And if any other dog showed his face, he was soon sent off." " I can exactly fancy Kep guarding them," said Jobn. " He was certainly a most original old felloAV." " Well, the very evening that my father came home from his last voyage," continued Edward, again, " Nep dis- appeared after dinner, and presently made his appearance at the drawing-room window, looking very important, waggin^i" his tail slowly and with dignity, and behind him stood the three puppies, all staring in with their round, wide-opened eyes, and wagging their little scrubby tails. He waited till we had patted and praised him, and petted his adopted children as long as he thought proper ; then he led them home ngain, and came back to attend to his duties here. After this, they were continually coming up and wandering about the wood witli ISTep, he teaching them to scratch about, and letting them play while he watched." " And is this fine fellow one of Nep's adopted sons ?" " Yes ; and I'll tell you how he got his funny name," said Margaret. " Edward said, that very first day when they came to the window, ' Why, Neptune, so you've got your Trident now 1' So we alwaj^s red to say when . ill i'«i f ;■:? 'i'J i ! M I !! 1 06 The Voyage of the Constance, wo saw them, 'IJcrc comes Ncp with his Trident.' Well, John, one of the poor little things died of the distemper. Nep pined about it very much. He really did. Didn't he, Eddyr" " 01], I'm sure ho did." " We used to say, ' Poor Nep ! you've lost one prong of your Trident,' and he quite understood." "I don't at all mean to say he died of grief," Edward went on, " but certain it is that he had a fit, poor fellow, not long after, and though we did all we possibly could to save him, he died." *' Poor old Nep ! Then Sir Hugh gave you this fmo fellow to console you, I suppose r" " Yes, and we called him Trident. His sister, the other puppy, Sir Hugh kept for himself, and called her Chloe, after her mother, and took her away to Al)erdeen with him. She's quite black, and very handsome, they say." " Well, I think poor old JS'ep showed great kindness of heart, and wonderful sentiment, too." " Yes, we were very sorry at his death," said Margaret. *' We buried him in the wood, and planted a silver liv on his grave. W^e will show it to you when you like, but here we are at home, and I dare say you will be glad to go in and rest ; besides, tea is ready, and there is mamma at the window lookiug for us." CHAPTER XI. S i HUGH ARMSTRONG. The winter that fodowed was unusually severe. The snow lay on the ground for five weeks. John would not suffer Sir Hugh Armstrong. 107 his aunt to draw tho inference tliafc it must, tlicrefore, bo unusually seven; in the Arctic regions, or she would cer- tainly have done so. lie assured her that wo know nothing about that, and that it was quite impossible to judge by weather here what it might be there. John enjoyed tho cold, and got better rapidly. Inde( d, ho had not been two months at home before ho recovered his lameness, anJ began to look like himself again. Edward, too, seemed to enjoy the cold; at least, so most people used to say who observed liow ho went on. He continued his habit of bathing and swimming in the river near the cottage every morning, even when he had to break tho ice at tbo edge. He kept his window open all night, and cored little whether the study fire was lighted or no while he prepared his lessons. No weather, rain, snow, or storm, i)revented his going to Dr. Trp nan's, and when the half-year's report was made up he was found to bo tho only student who had never missed one day's attendance. His character in every other respect was high. Even in Latin, which used to bo his bane, the result of the examination was "Good" written against his name. It must be allowed, however, that if the examination had been in snow-balling, sliding, and skating, the word would have been " Excellent." But it was not that Edward had acquired a new taste for ice and snow, frosty wind, and freezing water. He had a secret purpose in this process of hardening himself. " If you had been one year older you might have borne it," ho said to himself, repeating his father's words. " My father would not think I was wrong to go the voyage next spring even ; the following one he would quite approve of it, and if I harden myself to bear cold, not only this winter but next, I am sure I could stand it well." A dread, which I i^ 'iiij ^\ i!R, ! I St .1 1 J M 1 08 The Voyage of the Constance. some people would call a presentiment, but wliicli was, in truth, only tlic necessary consequence of bis knowledge of the nature of the Arctic regions, and of the dangers John had escaped from — a dread that his father would not return throughout the next season had taken possession of him, and he had resolved that if it really turned so he would find some means of following when the next spring came round, and rescuing this dear father, if God permitted. To wait through the second winter would be a dreadful time, but it was impossible to help it. He must not risk a third 'inter in the ice; that was certain. The other alternative, the idea that his father would be lost, he drove away with horror. " If by the end of next season he is not heard of, I will go and find him," that was his fixed determination. His moti.er alone had guessed his secret, but she said nothing. Tlie conflict in her heart was too severe for words. If in the attempt to rescue her Imsband she had to risk her son, now dearer than ever to her, what a hard trial awaited her ! But she was prepared to meet it. She knew that when the time came, if come it must, she should speed him on his way. Edward employed himself during the Christmas vaca- tion in training Trident to draw a sledge. Every one but Edward's mother thought this was only an amusement, but she knew well that it was another part of his plan. **He is rio'ht," thouo-ht she. "A faithful do^: like Trident may do some great service. Ho shall go too." Mi^ny a time her eyes were dimmed with tears while she watched the merry party careering along ; JMargaret, seated in the pretty little light sledge, wrapped up warmly, wliile Trident pulled with a good will, and Edward ran full speed by the side, teaching him to obey according to the word of com- y I ^' ,: !|' If 1 I lii I)i;nt s >i.i i)(i I'. ■f B ' ' Sir Hugh Armstrong. 109 mancl. Riglit ! left ! halt ! ivUk ! trot ! gallop ! liurrali ! ! At this last word Edward was left far behind, for Trident went full speed, and Margaret's voice was sometimes heard trying to make him attend to the order of " halt !" In this way they travelled miles over the snowy roads. The sledge was a masterpiece of Peter's art, assisted by Edward, who worked hard under him to get it finished, and was so afraid of a thaAV coming, that he rather avoided conversation, so that Peter's stories were often cat short. Still he told a good many while they went on together, and often regretted that he had not any of his curiosities and specimens to amuse Miss Margaret with while she stood by watching their progress. Peter said he could "beat the Captain with specimens," because he had his tools, and the Esquimaws would give him anything he liked for tools. "This old chisel, now," said he, as he cut away at the wood with it, " would have been worth a Jew's eye to them. But, then, what was the good of all I got ? Every- thing had to be left behind. We had quite enough weight to pull without loading ourselves with curiosities." When the sledge was finished it was ornamented, by Mrs. Armstrong's hands, with scarlet bows and little bells, after the manner of the Swedish sledges, and Trident had a neat white leather harness, a breast collar of flat leather, aud a 2^^111" of traces, all set off to full advantage by his long glossy black hair. Christmas-dny was drawing near. One morning, while the snow glittered in the sun, the sledge was skimming merrily up the Drive homewards, Margaret singing in the j')y of her heart, Edward scampering behind. Trident bounding along at full spied, when a carriage laden with laggago was seen a little way before them approaching the If ^ ■ i i 1 no The Voyage of the Constance. door. Trident began to bark, as if inquiring what strangers might be invading his territory, and at the noise a lady's head appeared out of one of the windows looking back at them, and an old gentleman's at the other. " Aunt Mary and Sir Hugh !" cried Margaiet, joyfully ; and the whole party arrived at once at the door, Edw^ard panting fo^^ breath after his run, and both he and Margaret bright and rosy with the frosty air and exercise. "Well done! well done! capital! Lapland indeed I pines, snow, and sledges ! How d'ye do ? Glad to see you both looking so well — famously w^ell ! My dear boy I my dear little niece ! let me see, how is it ? I feel like your uncle at all events, my dear" — all these words did Sir Hugh say while he shook Edward by the hand, kissed Margaret, patted her head, laughed, and half cried too in the warmth and kindness of his heart. Aunt Mary's greeting was more quiet, but very affec- tionate, and most affectionately returned ; and now out came John, and there was another round of greetings, fresh shaking of hands and congratulations, and then they all entered the hall and met Mrs. Armstrong, who seemed as happy p«s all the rest. " My dear Constance," said Sir Hugh, holding her hands very kindly in both his, "you have taken care of everybody but yourself. Here is John, almost looking like himself again, instead of what I expected. Oh ! upon my word I heard such accounts I was almost afraid to look in his face. And as to Edward and Margaret, they are pictures of health. Capital ! famous ! But you are pale and thin, my dear. I'm come to spend Christmas with you, and look after you, and see how they treat you. A merry Christmas to you all my dears; and we'll drink Sir Hugh Armstrong. 1 1 1 * absent friends ' with all our hearts. Mary and I only- thought of it last week, so we made up our minds to start, and here we are you see." A gruff bark was now heard at the door. It was like Trident's, but it was not his. " Ah, there's Chloe !" said Sir Hugh. ** May she come in, my dear ? My servant has brought her up from the station." Chloe was admitted in a moment, and received with many pats and caresses. " Thought you would like to see her again," said Sir Hugh, *' so I brought her, and my servant will take charge of her, and not let her do any mischief." "Oh, we like to have her very much," cried Margaret; while Edward inwardly determined to teach Chloe to draw with Trident and get a double harness. As he thought so. Trident himself entered, to see what was going on, having just been unharnessed, and commenced so boisterous a salutation of his sister that Edward was obliged to open the window and let them both out on the lawn, when they very soon converted the white smooth surface of the snow into a well-ploughed-up confusion. After touching noses, staring in each other's eyes with upraised ears and wag- ging tails, starting, whirling round and round each other, and then staring face to face again, rushing round the whole circuit of the fence side by side, then again taking another good stare, they quieted down, and finally appeared at the window, each with a red tongue hanging out. Had it been a brother instead of a sister that had come. Tri- dent's reception of him would not have been so good- natured, but dogs never fight with their lady friends and relations. ,1' !| ! i 'iti :\ 11 1, 112 T"/;^ Voyage of the Constance. Edward, wlio Lad watclied their performances with much amusement, while the rest of the party were talking jind the travellers were being conducted to their rooms, now took them both to have a good dinner and draught of water, for which they were equally ready. In the kitchen he found Sir Hugh's servant, and saw that it was Mark, Peter's eldest son, tliat had come. " Why, Mark I" he cried, "how glad your father and mother will be to see you. So you have left the sea and turned valet ?" " Not exactly, sir," said Mark, touching his hat. " I'm only taking a rest ashore, and shall very likely go out in a Grecnalman next season." Mark was on the point of starting for his father's cot- tage, so Edward did not stop him, except to help him up with a heavy basket on his shoulder. " It's good Scotch beef and a turkey for their Christmas dinner," said he. " Sir Hugh's a gennelman to the back- bone, so I say. Good-day to ye, sir. Any message to the old people?" " Only to wish them a merry Christmas." "When Edward returned to the drawing-room he found Sir Hugh alone there. " Come here, my boy," cried he. " I like you. You've a good face, like your father, and a frank English smile. I tell you, you are not to go to sea. Don't take a fancy to be a sailor. There are quite enough of the Armstrongs perilling their lives on the ocean. Your father — nothing else would serve him but to be a sailor. Then there was John next. Now you hear me, you must not want to be a sailor." " I don't want to be a sailor. Sir Hucrh." li That's right. Anything else you like. )} ] I Sir Hugh j^rm strong. "3 Edward began to look grave. If Sir Hugh took a decided objection to liis going to sea, it might prove an obstacle to him if he should have to 2*0 to the rescue of his father. It would bo to Sir Hucrh he mast look in such a case to help him out. But it was too soon to think of this. His father might be home safely with them next autumn. Now that everything looked so bright and cheerful round him, and Edward felt in such good spirits, he felt as if this happy hope would be realized, and as if he was wrong to be so desponding as he often was. Just then his mother came in. " Why, Sir Hugh," sho cried, " have you the genius of the lamp at your service ? I went to the larder just now with the cook, and was lost in astonishment at the si^fht I saw." " Only some offerings from the Land o' Cakes, my dear," said Sir Hugh ; " and whoever says it's not a land of plenty and good cheer, knows nothing about it. It's merry Christmas time, you know, and it would never have done to come empty-handed." The visit so kindly and pleasantly begun went on well to its conclusion. Sir Hugh was on the watch to discover what he could do to make them all happy, and was made happy himself by the affection they all showed him. He was very fond of young people, and never so well pleased as when he was surrounded by tliem, and he now declared that in a year or two he should carry out the plan he had long talked of, and should retire from business altogether, and come and settle near them again ; " for when Harry comes home — your father, I mean," said he — "I shall want to be among you." Meanwhile, he said, they must pay him a visit in Aberdeen, and see his granite palace, as he called it. Everything, he told them, was granite there. 8 f i if is): ■ .. ft ! t \u f ^! 114 The Voyage of the Constance. Granite quarries, granite works ; churches, bridges, houses, pavement, everything granite. It would be a good plan to come down and live with him there all the summer, till Harry brought home the "Pole-Star." Sir Hugh reminded Mrs. Armstrong of her half promise to agree to his proposal when the last morning of his visit came round. " If Harry comes back without any tidings of Frank- lin," he added, " and if none of the ships now out on the search can find him, I must learn to forget — no, not to forget my old friend, but to give up the hope I still feel. And we will not let Harry go to sea again. l\o, no, my dear Constance, we must keep him at home when once we get him back." Chloe went home with her master, but she had learned to draw the sledge with Trident perfectly well. Ever3'body was sorry to bid good-bye. Sir Hugh loaded them with presents before he went, and, what pleased them more than all, left a large sum of money to assist the poor labourers and their families, whom uhe long frost was trying severely. Grateful and affectionate thoughts followed him on his way. He left Aunt Alary for a few weeks longer with them, at Mrs. Armstrong's earnest request. John and Edward saw him off, ai: ' his last words as he got into the railway carriage were, " Edward, you must not wish to go to sea." CHAPTER XII. THE MESSENGER. The old wavs bc^i^an aG^aln after Sir Ilucfh had left them. The cottage seemed very silent without him, and Chloe, ■ I The Messenger. 115 and Mark. Joliii often had to go to London on busiiifss, and when he was away it was more silent still. The snow had melted ; the sledge was laid by ; Edward went to Dr. Trnman's regularly, and so in the mornings Margaret and her mamma were often left alone to go on with their different pursuits ; but in the evenings they always had Edward, and his return was the signal for work to be laid aside, and bright and pleasant hours to begin. As spring came on, Mrs. Armstrong felt less strong to bear up against her anxiety, because the time grew nearer in which she might begin to hope. She looked at the opening buds, and thought, " How will it be when the leaves now comino: out are withering??" and thoucrh she tried to hope, the fear that another winter of anxiety awaited her was stronger than her hope. The " Resolute" and " Intrepid " had not returned the previous autumn, a] id the certainty that Captain M'Clure had been kept among the ice for a fourth dreary season added to the gloomy feelings that would often press upon her. It was too early to expect him yet, but if the following autumn did not bring the squadron home, the anxiety would be general. Edward and Margaret had begun to train a pair of young carrier-pigeons, which were just fledged when Launcy was sent away, and were now tine young birds. This was another of Edward's preparations for his own possible voyage. If he went, he would take them with him to send back when he met with the " Pole-Star." As yet they had not been tried at any greater distance than two miles. When the midsummer vacation began, on the -Jtli of June, the first thing Edward thought of was the journeys he could contrive for his pigeons. The very next morning he went early to their usual nest, that he might catcli \ 'I I ■ ■(■' \ " f. iiij I' w ' Ii6 The Voyage of the Constance. them before tliey flew out for tlic day, intending to walk about five miles out, carrying' them in a basket, and to let them fly, while Margaret watched for their return. He found them as ho expected, and, taking one in each hand, was preparing to get down again, when he suddenly stopped, let both the birds fly without observing it, and looked into the nest again. What was that heap of grey feathers in the farthest corner ? He put in his hand and started, for he felt a little fluttering. His face flushed, and his hand trembled. He looked in again, and saw that the messenger had returned. Did it mean that Franklin was found ? Yes, little Launcy was there, but gasping, with wings outstretched and film over his eyes, as if he were dying. Scarcely believing his senses, Edward took the poor bird tenderly between his hands. The little feet stretched out stiftly. He hardly saw this ; he thought of only one thing in the world at that moment, as he looked and felt beneath the torn and drooi^ing wings for a note. There was nothing. He felt again, nervously, hoping he was wrong. ^0 — there was nothing ! It was a cruel disappointment. Edward laid the poor bird in the nest again, and stood aghast at the top of the ladder. A minute before he had fancied he had words from his father in his possession, and it was almost too much to bear. But this did not last long. A little tremulous motion of Launcy's beak, roused him to bring some help to the little creature Avho had come so faithfully and so wonder- fully back, no one could say whence, nor how far. He took it again in his hands, and went down with it, and as he did so he stopped suddenly, as the thought occurred to him . I. [ t '1 \B U 'I'flK lil'TlKX OV THi: ("aHKIKK I'lGKON. f ,1 I I i i \ I I The Messenger. 1 1 7 "though ho brings no note ho must hnvc loft my fatlicr's care within a few clays; four or five days ago, thun, my father was safe." Ho hurried into tlio house, and got a cup of cohl water, rightly thinking that was tlio first want of his poor little pet. He put its beak into the water ; it lay there without moving ; he tried in vain for many minutes to rouse it to drink ; then lie took water in his own mouth, put Launcy's beak to his lips, and tried so, and succeeded at last. The poor little thing swallowed a few drops, then Iny motion- less, as if the effort had been too m.icli for it ; then again swallowed a little ; till, havinn; once beq-un, it went on and drank freely a long draught from the cup. Poor Launey was saved. Kdward then tried to get him to eat, and managed first to get some canary seed, that Margaret kept for her birds, down his throat ; then some hemp seed ; then bread crumbs ; and at last a few peas. Afterwards water again. Edward then placed him gently in a basket with some soft hay, and watched him till he folded his wings and settled to sleep. All this time Edward's doubts and guesses about his father had become continually more terrible. If my father were on his way homeward he would not have sent the bird. He said ho would. not risk his life in that case — at least, unless he found Franklin ! But then he would surely have sent a note to say so. How can it be that there is none ? Has the ship been wrecked, or some dread- ful disaster happened, and the bird escaped and flown away? There may have been something tied under the wing, and it may have been lost ; but if everything was right, and he had time, my father would have been sure to tie it on securely. M<1 ( iM If m If. . I.: I 1 18 Tbe Voyage of the Constance. Torincnting liimself with these fears, Edward looked up at his mother's windows. It was still so early that ho could not ])car to disturb her ; but he lono^ed so much to tell her tliut the poor bird had come back to them, and to hear wliat she felt and w^ould think about there being no note, that he went softly to her door, and tapped very gently, carrj'iiig the basket. She opened the door herself; she was up nnd dressed. He was not prepared for this, and had intended to announce the news carefully to her, lest he should irive lier a shock : but now, when seeino* his a^'itated face, she asked rather hurriedly what was the matter, he held up the basket. '• Oil, he has sent it !" she cried. " It has come ! Give rac his note !" '• There is none, my dear mother ! — there is nothing," said Edward ; and he placed the basket on the floor, held her hands tenderly in his, and looked at her anxiously. '' Xone ! — not a word ! He would have sent a letter carefullv if he had been able, and ho would not have sent tlie bird at all so late in the season as this if he were coming hinii^elf this year. But that little creature has come from his hands ; perhaps oidy a few days ago he held it. He is going farther from us, Edward — I know he is !" and she trembled so that she was obliged to sit down. '■' r)at I cannot understand," she went on, " there being no note. I begin to fear sometliing dreadful. The ship may have been wrecked, and the bird has escaped and ilown back." These words, echoing Edward's thought, made him start and turn nale : and instead of beini'' able io sirenn-then his motlicr, his tongoo seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth, [uid she looj^ed at him in terror. i 3 I I I 1 1 The Messenger. ii^ Bat the sound of their voices had awakened Mar2:aret, who slept in tlio next room ; and she had started up, and ran in to see what was the matter. She was in a moment kneeling beside the basket, kissing- and fondling her little Launcy, rt^'oicing that he had returned, and asking for his message. *' None, my child ! — no message !" said her mother, in a tone of anguish. "But there has been one!" cried Margaret. '* Look here ! I feel a little cord under the feathers. Look, mamma ! Feel, Edward !" She was right. There was a small and fine cord, as she said, carefully fastened round the bird under the feathers. This was proof that the messenger had been sent off, and had not flown away from a wrecked ship. That whatever had been fastened there had been lost was a great disap- pointment ; but the relief of finding that there had been something was so great that a kind of rejoicing and con- gratulation began among them. A few days ago, he whom they so loved and longed ^ov sent this little creature off to them ; a few days ago, he was safe. Tliey were silent for some time. Mrs. Armstrong was in deep thought, with her eyes fixed on the pigeon, and Edward and Margaret did not like to interrupt her. She was trying to collect herself, to gain suiHcicnt calmness to think, i^ p()ssi])le, what sort of note had been fastened to that cord, and why it had been lost. It was not like her husband to do anything imperfectly. If he had tied it on, it would have been secure ; it would have been written on some strong material that would not have been torn off. Was he ill? Had he been obliged to employ some one else ? h': i:; i 120 The Voyage of the Constance. She drove this tliouglit away, and tried to remember tlie length of the flight, and the possibility that no pre- caution could Lave prevented the accident. The same thing had happened, she recollected, in the case of Sir James Ross's carrier-pigeon, which arrived safely, but had lost his note. Then came the hope that her husband had found Frank- lin. Was this possible ? He said, that if he did find Franklin he should not bo able to resist the desire to make all England share in his joy, and therefore should despatch the messenger. It seemed too much to hope. It was more likely tliat he was going farther nortli, and certainly not to return this year. " No, he will not return this year," she said, aloud , *' ho is going farther from us." " I fear that, too," said Edward. " Another winter in the ice he will have ; a tliird he sliall not, if I live and God will let me go to find him !" It was the first time Edward had ever said this, often as he had resolved it ; and liis words made his mother start, and clasp his hand with a mixed feeliug of joy and anguish. Margaret was meanwhile busy about the bird. " I am trying to get off the cord, mamma," she said, in answer to an inquiring look ;] " it feels tight, and perhaps it hurts him." Edward helped her, and with some difficulty they began to unwind it. It was passed twice round the body, and almost woven in among the feathers. At one spot it was entangled with them, and Margaret could not remove it without pulling out a little of the down. In the midst of the soft grey down was something white. Margaret i 1 I The Messenger 121 nervously tried to disciitanglo it, and her motlier and Ed- ward saw it at the same moment : it was a small scrap of paper. " Are there words on it — any words ? " said Mrs. Arm- strong, almost in a wdiisper, " I cannot see." " Spread it out, Maggie," said Edward, "yoa will do it best." She smoothed out the crumpled bit of paper carefully, and as quickly as her little trembling lingers were able. "I can sec letters on it written in pencil," she said. " What is it, Edward ? ' We are ' " Edward looked, but did not speak. " ' 7r d avo wellV it means," said Mrs. Armstrong, quickly and joyfully. " I can distinctly read ' Wc are,' and then ' w^ c.' It must mean %\:dl. All the rest is gone. Oh, thank God for those words !" Edward rushed out of the room, and returned with a magnifying glass ; he knelt down by the table, and looked at the paper through it ; then letting the glass fall on the floor, he sank his head on the table and buried his hands in his hair. "Am I wrono' ? Is it not an ' c? Can it be an ' /•'i'" gasped his mother. ■' Speak, Edward !" "It is an ' r.' That Avord could only be one dreadful word ; I can think of no other : ' Wc arc wreckcl ! ' Oh, my loar mother !" he cried, starting up, " keep up your courage in this dreadful trial. Think only of one thing — think only of this, that he was alive. If the ship is wrecked, he has not perished in it : tliink of this !" Margaret threw her arms round her mother, crying bitterly. Oh how dreadful it scorned to think of her papa wrecked! No ship, perha^^s no food — perhaps alone ! "Do ; '"i J'' :1' '11 I t 1! 122 The Voyage of the Co7tsiance. you think lie is cast asliorc all alone, Edward?" she sobbed. " 1^.0, tliafc I am sure he is not," answered ho. " "When the danger came, and the last crash c me, he was the last Tna7i tliat left his ship ; that I am as sure of as tliat I live. He would not put himself in safety while one single man was in dann-er, T know. I could answer for it with my life." It seemed as if Edward's proud confidence in his father revived his mother's courage ; she looked up, and began again to examine the scrap of paper, " It is his hand," she said ; '' I know^ the form of the letters perfectly ; but being written only in pencil tells us a tale, Edward, j^'. ^ind no ink or pen, or he would have used them. They i saved nothing — no stores — nothing! Some one desk, with ink and pens, would otherwise have been at hand. Oh, it is dreadful !" " Look ! do you see this little blue border to the paper ? I know this is a scrap torn from his pocket-book, that 3Iar- garet gave him for a keepsake," said Edward. " It is — yes it is ! He had no paper or parchment, ■which otherwise he would have sent ; nothing, perhaps, saved but the clothes he had on." " Mamma," cried Mai'garet, " we must have been blind not to see wdiat this cord is, but I never tliought of anything but the piece of paper ; it is part of the long hair-chain of his watch, made of vour hair." " It is — it is, indeed, mother !" said Edward. " He has kept half and sent half. He knew notliing was so safe ashair." A silence of a few minutes foUowed. Mrs. Armstrong's feelings were too strong for words, but thoughts passed rapidly through her mind, and iha confidence she had in her husband supported her. He was wrecked, but she had full she I The Messcngej'. 123 trust that his crew were saved with him. Still more, she was sure that he had a motive for sendin"" the messaofe. He would not have sent to them only to break their hearts with the knowledge of his disaster. He had sent to bring a rescue. Slie started itj), and Edward's words answered her thought. " We must not lose a moment !" he cried. " Help me off to Aberdeen. I must go to Sir Hugh ; he only can advise me, or assist me to get away. I cannot tell how it is to be done, but done it must be somehow. If a ship could be prepared within a month, I think we might be in time ; certainly we could if we can get a steamer." *' YoL are right, my dear Edward ! — my dear boy ! We will not lose a moment. Say to Sir Hugh that all I have I will give to fit out a ship. What is anything worth to us, if we lose your father ? Sir Hugh is kind and gene- rous, and will help us, 1 know. Tell him what I have said ; and, Margaret, run and call up the servants, and get break- fast for Edward, and I will pack his portmanteau. He will be in time for the early train." She was hurrying out, but Edward ran towards her, took her hand, and looked anxiously in her face. '^ Do not fear for me, Edward : I am quite calm. I liave perfect faith that He who permitted the message to come to us will strengthen us to act upon it, and give us His blessing. IMay He bless you, my dear boy !" " Then you consent to my going to seek him myself?" " I do consent, and have comfort in the thought of the strength and power of your courage and love." Without another word they separated, she to prepare what was required for his journe^^, he to John's room, where he remained for a quarter of an hour in earnest con- H v:iii Il I ¥) 1 -iL' m 124 The Voyage of the Constance. saltation. Ho was called away to breakfast, and obeyed Ills motliei''s entreaty that lie would try to eat, or lie could never <xo tlirouQ-Li the fatiixne tliat was before liim. She was sitting- by him, pouriug out his coffee, when John camo in, and as he looked at her he was astonished at her calm- ness. He squeezed her hand, and as he did so, felt that she was worthy to be the wife of Ins brave uncle, and that Edward, whom this morning's conversation had made him love and admire more than he ever did before, might well be a fine fellow, with such a father and mother. Every one was calm but poor little Margaret, whose tears flowed con- stantl}" : her heart ached ; the words she tried to say choked lier ; but she waited on every one, and tried to hide her tears, l^o wonder they flowed : she was haunted by ter- rible pictures of her dear papa suffering from cold and hunger amidst ice and snow ; she was going lo lose Edward. Tliere seemed nothing but misery in the world. John tried to comfort the poor little girl. " We are going to find him and bring him back, Maggie. Edward and I shall be sure to find him. We have made all our plans." "You, John !" cried Mrs. Armstrong. " You do not thinlv I would stay behind, do you?" he answered. " Edward takes my message to Sir Hugh, that if a ship can be provided, I will take the command." Mrs. Armstrong could not speak ; she felt all the affection and noble-hearted energy of this resolution, at a moment when he had scarcely recovered the hardships of his last voj'age, but it was a great comfort to licr. John had been accustomed to the sea from boyhood, had been two Arctic voyages, and had the highest character in his profession. Above all, Edward would have his care and 1 llie a of 311 lis I The Messenger. 125 companionship. She was, liowevcr, deeply alTectccl as slie held her hand to him, and saici, in a low but fervent tone, how she thanked him, and how much she felt the sac- rifice he was making*. Ho replied, that the sacrifi.ce would be to stay at home. Edward had risen from the table, and was preparing to go. *' We have still three minutes," said John looking at his watch. " I want to say one thing more : I do not want to deny the terrible nature of the trial to you — we, I may say — have to bear ; but remember, it is summer, and that in summer the Arctic regions abound in life. If my uncle saved ammunition and rifles, there is no fear as to his being able to hold out ; and it is like him to remember that they were all important, and to neglect everything else in com- jDarison." " I know it," said Mrs. Armstrong ; *' I feel — I am quite certain — that if he did not believ© he could hold out, he would never have sent to us ; he would not have encouraged a useless risk of other valuable lives : I kno'.v^ my husband too well for that. If he know that before aid could come they must ," but she could not go on : tlic dreadful images that came before her made her turn deadly pale. Both John and Edward went to her. Edward's arm supported her, and she soon recovered herself. " You must go now, my dear boy !" she said ; "but I shall see you again ?" " Oh, yes ! I shall only settle with Sir Hugh what can be done, and then return to prepare for the vo^-age." John had already got the portmanteau on his shoulder, and was standing at the door. " He only goes to sec me off," said Edward; " he will \y] 'I ; ■^ .' ij i ii :P 126 The Voyage of the Constance, be back with you directly, and tell you of all our plans and hopes, that I have no time for. Good-bye, my poor little IMaggie ! — my dear, dear mother !" And he ran after John, who was already on his way. CHAPTER XIII. rREPAKATION. TuE third dav brou2:ht the followin": letter from Edward to his mother : — " Aberdeen, June 8th, 1851. " My dear ]\Iother, — Sir Hugh gives us a ship ! Ho will not hear the word ' expense.' He Avill not let you even share it with him. 13ut, better than all, we may be off by the 1st of July. How it ha])pens that he can be so quick over his preparations I will tell you when I have time. How kind, generous, and noble Sir Hugh is ! I knew ho was, but he is more than I knew. " Tell John we want him here the very moment he can settle his business at the Admiralty. He is wanted hero very much indeed. I shall wait till he comes, and do all I can, for there is a great deal to do ; but then I am so igno- rant about it all, that I can do hardly any good without him. " ^l\ dear mother, I think of you very often. Some- times I feel as if you could never get through such a hard trial and terrible time as tliis will be ; but I hope you will, for our sakes — for my father's sake ! Think of him when he comes home ! He must tind you well, to cheer him after all he has suil'ered. " Only think that Sir Hugh, who we little fancied had i Preparation, 127 iter lad any fatb h all thi anxious thoughts about r time preparing a ship that it might bo ready for next spring, in case he did not come home this year. She is built of great strength, for Arctic service, and if never wanted for this search, was to be used as a whaler, but she is now fitted with a screw-engine. TJiis is of the greatest import- ance for our speed. We shall not care for calms or con- trary winds, and boring through the ice is much easier with a steamer. She is christened the ' Constance ;' do you like that name ? "I have just found out that I may go and sec her before the post hour, so I will stop now, and finish when I come in. ***** " I have seen tlie ' Constance,' and am delighted with her. She has three masts. They say her build is so capital, and she carries such a crowd of sail, that slio has proved a ilrst-rate sailer, thougli she is five feet solid timber in the bows and has a double deck. Tell Maggie she is painted black, with a briglit band of white and bhie, and a lady dressed in white and blue for a figure-head. I wish the face was like you, but it is not. Maggie will not think black sounds i)retty, but it will look very well rising out of the blue sea, Avith the tall masts and new white sails. We shall have several Hags for signals, and mean to come back into harbour in triumph, decked out in them, and you are both to be on the pier to receive us. " I have not told you that Aunt Mary sets ofi* this after- noon for London, to go to you. Sir Hugh cannot bear to be without her, bat he is ready to do anything to comfort you. She has been so affectionate to me ! She is very un- happy about us all. I shall soon come and bring her, you. I ^i: .■\:'^. n II !M,J 128 The Voyage of the Constance, find Maggie back liorc Avitli nic, if you ^vill consent. Sir Hugh hopes you will. You will then sec us off. " I have only a very little more time now, but I have a great deal to tell you. One thing I must say, Trident and Chloe are both to go, if you will let Trident, and I know you will ; and Sir Hugh will look out ibr four more New- foundlanders to make a splendid team. I have no time to tell you about our plans, sledges, etc., now. " I only arrived here early this morning. At first they would not believe me, but I showed them the little bit of paper, and then they did. Yon were right to give it me. Aunt Mary cried so bitterly, and Sir Hugh quite trembled and looked white, lie kept saying, 'l^.ly dear Harry ! my dear Harry ! I sent him ! It was I sent him !' And then he rose up the moment I spoke of a ship, and told me about the one he had prepared, and declared tbat we should have her ready in three weeks. And he was so pleased about John going, I cannot tell 3'ou all he said : ' He's a brave, noble fellow ! I could not have found such a commander at a short notice !' But then he bej^an to make it a condition that I should not want to go too. I hardly know what I said, but he was very angry with me — called me a head- strong, foolish boy, that could be of no use, and would run into danger for nothing. I pleaded very hard with him. I said, ' liemember, John will have his ship to think of ; his crew to care for ; I shall have only one aim in the world — to find my father and save him. Just at the moment when he might be found, and when by delay we might lose him, John might be obliged by duty to stay by his ship and his men. I am not, indeed I think I am not, head- strong ; I only want to save my father.' *' Well, I know that before I had done I was shaking all 1* Preparation. I2( Sir of; )rld cnt nip lad- all if over, and that they both came to mo, and Annt Mary said, ' ITe is riglit, my dear uncle' I heard her say, that, and flicn ho asked if yon had consented, and I said you had. 80 then he consented, too, and was very kind to me. Aunt ]\Inry made mc liave some breakfast, and would not let me speak again, bnt made me go and lie down on the bed, and I was so dreadfully tired that I went to sleep directly, and when I awoke it was twelve o'clock ; and when I had had time to think and remember the ship, and that it was all settled, and we were really to go, I could hardly believe it. Bat now I must not write any more. Give my love to Maggie, and, my dear mother, I am your all'ectionato son, *' Edward Akmstiiong." This letter, which told Mrs. Armstrong all that was most important to know, was speedily followed by the arrival of her sister-in-law, who was astonished at her firm- ness under such trials. She seemed to have only one thought, and that was to speed the departure of the rescue- ship. She was caiployed every liour in preparing the necessary outfit for both John and Edward. And now she had, besides, to make her arrangements for leaving Fern- hill for a time, fn' she had agreed to accept Sir Hugh's invitation. In all this J\Iargaret assisted her, and while so fully employed recovered her spirits and often cheered her mother. Aunt Mar^' was also of the grcrif i>;-t use by her affectionate sympathy and her activit}^, and when there was any time for conversation, her talk was nearly always of Edvrard, whom she seemed unable to praise enough. John had so much business in town that he could be very little with them. He had, however, completed every- 9 I1 ';■ I. lil \ r r :■; j ;■ ' ^\ 130 The Voyage of the Co}ist(ince. thing* ; engaged ten lirst-ratc seamen, to make up tlio ro([uisite number with those Sir llugli expected to secure in Aberdeen, and given the necessary orders for tents, sledges, and suchoftlic pi'ovisions and stores as were to be f-up[)lied in London, lour days after Edwai'd's letter arrived. He had left Greely in charge of seeing everything ship})ed olf by the steanun*, wlienjie shouhl send notice that it was time, and now he was sitting on tlie terrace with watch in hand, in order not to miss the train, encouraging Mrs. Armstrong to liopo and trust, and setting the example by his cheerful face and voice, when some one came to say that Greely was waiting and anxious to see him lor live minutes. " Well, Peter, wliat is it ?" said John, as he came up. " I'm come to say, sir," said Peter, '' that if you haven't engaged with a carpenter, and will take me, I'm your man." " I have not fixed on a carpenter, and I heard this very day tliey have not found one yet down there. I could have a better man than you, I know ; but think what ^oti arc about ! You're well oil' here." " That's my all'air, sir. I'm read}^ if you are. The Captain might ha' done better if he'd have taken me. I've had experience, don't you see. That's where it is. Then, Master Edward is very young to go tlie voyage. I'm fixed to go and see after him, and not let him go on rashly, that's the idea of it. No harm shall hai)])en to him, please God keep me alive. I'll be answerable for him. I'm fond of the young' genelman." Mrs. Armstrong was much affected by the feeling Peter showed, and felt that his going would be a comfort to her, could be done witliout iniurv to himself, and said so to I iH It John, injury I The Irvo Ihen, lixeJ lat's lod of iter er, to 'I i Preparation. iii ** AVcU, Gi'cely," said he, " you shall bo carpenter of the ' Constance.' " " Tliank ye, sh'," said Peter, brightening np. " I'll hv, bound to say you shall never repent taking me. Pay all right, I suppose ?" " Quito right. Sir Hugh's a liberal paymaster." *' Yes, sir, I know that." " But how do you manage as to your home and your wife?" '■ Well, sir, my wife has made np her mind to it, and we were going to ask the favour of you, ma'am, to let us store up our things in your loft. She means to let the cottage, and go somewhere else for the time. She has one or two ideas about it, not altogetlier fixed yet." "I will gladly tidvo charge of the furniture," said Mrs. Armstrong, " and we will think farther of what she could do. Perhaps she will let me advise with her ?" Peter said she would be pleased and proud to do that. There was no time for more. " Good-bye till we meet at Aberdeen," was said, and John was off. His arrival at Aberdeen was announced in another letter from Edward. " He is as much delighted with tlie ' Constance ' as I am," Edward went on to say. " I must tell you some more about her. I have told you her strength of build. She is warmed by a plan imitated from the French ; a set of pipes heated by such a little furnace as you would not believe, carry warmth all over her, and also she i^ cleverly venti- lated. We shall have neither cold nor damp, nor bad air. You should see the Captain's cabin ! It is very small to be sure, but so neat, and there is one just to match it for my father. To have him in such comfort all next winter Will not that be a blessing ? and we shall. I always re- 'I n |I;'1 i I M f 132 The Voyage of the Constance, nirnibcr vonr words, ' If lie did not know lie could liold out till ludp came, lie would n(jt liave sent this message.' '•John is quite pleased, too, with our crew. lam so ''■lad Peter is to i^-o I What a kind old fellow lie is ! " Wo liavc a master wlio has sailed, every season in the whale fishery for fifteen years, and his mate is capital — first-rate ! Tlicu wo are to have a surgeon who was educated at King't; College here, and Sir Hugh says he is sure we shall like him; and I think we shall, from what I have seen of him. His name is Allen. He has never be. i an Arctic voyage, but has travelled over all the rest of the world ; at least some new place is always turning up. His last travels (in i^ fi-ica) not very good preparation for the ice you Avill say. Then there is Greely and his mate, who is an Orkney man. Beside all these, we have five-and- twenty seamen. Those that John chose in London have all conic ; fine fellows they are, and every man of them has been at least one Arctic voyage. The rest are some from Orkney, some from Slietland, and the rest from Peterhead or Aberdeen, .'ind are all used to the Greenland fishery. "We have five boats, one of these is a life-boat; and we have besides a couple of India-rubber boats — capital things — that you can carry in the sledges and launch in any water you may have to cross. John has ordered two of the regular Adn:iralty sledges in London, and six tents, two of v.liich are gutta-percha, two canvas, and two seal- skin. AYe shall get more sledges in Greenland, and twenty or thirtv dogs. " Besides all these, there arc ice-saws, ice-chisels, icc- aiieliors, and the crow's nest. Have you not plenty to see? AVe carry in store a qunntity of rough boards for housing* over in winter, ?iid gutta-percha for covering the deck. I I ' w 9 (( Preparation. 133 Our provisions will be abundant, and of tlio best quality. You can fancy how Sir Hugli would take care of that, and he is rio-lit. It is that wretched ' short allowance ' that has cut up the men more than anything- else. They want good food, and plenty o it, to keep out the cold. I'he pemmican is to come from London ; the salt beef and pork, the preserved meat, soups, and vegetables, arc procured here. You would be astonished at the amount of p.ickloa and preserves ordered. Scotland is famous for the last, especially, you know. Then there is a quantity of lime-juice, and an immense store of tea, cofi'ce, sugar, and cocoa. Spirits we are to use only for illness, or extraordinary occasions. John's only conditions are like Kane's, ' Tem- perance and no profane language.' The Esquimaux, who seem to live and grow fat where our people dwindle and die, d.Q not know what ardent spirits are. But there is to be no ' captain's table,' we till fare alike. Jolm says that the men who do all the hardest work, require at least a>; good food as tlielr oflicers, and I am sure I think so. " John and I both af'-ree tliat our clothinLi; should be as like the Esquimaux as possible. They dress entirely m skins and can brave any amount of cold. AVe take a double suit of seal or reindeer-skin for every one of uy, and be- tween thirty and forty spare suits for my fatlirr and his crew. I don't know whether Maggie kuows that on tlic Arctic voyages tliey all sleep tied up in bags, with onl}^ their heads coming out, I sup|)ose she does though, be- cause I remember Peter tellinc: us about it. AVc shall take blanket bags for the temperate climate at first, but after- wards wo shall use nothing;" but bao-s made of skius, atid we take about a hundred. One of Sir Hugh's s'liips has lately come in from Godhavn on the Greenland coast, v/itli |il^' U, I k' 134 "^^^^ Voyage of the Constance. a great cargo of reindeer and bear and seal-skins, among other tilings, so we are easily supplied. "And now, having deseribcd our preparations, I shall tell you our plan. You know I have read every Arctic voyage that has been published, and John has had ex- perience. Well, v/e both agree that the great difficulty seems alwaj^s to have been to get out of harbour in spring. Commanders have naturally pushed on as far as possible the year they go out, before going into winter quarters. Perhaps they 2)enetrate to a point where ifc does not happen every season that the ice opens at all ; and so they have to wait year after year, and at last have to abandon their ships. John has resolved, therefore, to lay up the ' Constance ' for the winter where wo are certain from all experience that there is open water early in summer. This will bo as near to the north-east point of Lancaster Sound as ho can find a harbour. The journey to the shores of Jones' Sound, where wo trust to find my fatlijr, we shall perform with sledges. Straight across, it is not above a hundred miles. " It will bo a week before I am with you, for Peter is doing everytliing so cleverly in London that I am of more use here. John and I work like horses in the ship every day, till night stops us, and there is very little night here now. " I know you are about as hard at work as we are, but 1 am going to ask you to do something besides, which I think you and Margaret can manage very well, assisted by Aunt Mary's taste. AYc want you to choose for us a lot of things to barter with the natives. Scissors, knives, needles, pins, tliey value very much. We get here tools, nails, large knives, and all such heavy things. Yours are to bo the elegances. We should like beads, toys, bright and warm handkerchiefs. In short, you will judge. i Ill Preparation. 135 " Kow, good-bye till I see yon. Sir Hugli continues so very kind that I cannot tell you Low kind, and spares no expense — will not lot us think of money. Be ready to start for Aberdeen very soon. I shall only have a day or two to spend at home before we all leave it together." Edward was true to liis time. He arrived in a week, and found everything packed and prepared. He spent the wdiole of his first day in seeing Peter off in the Aberdeen steamer, witli the tents, sledges, and provisions that had been ordered in London, and all the heavy luggage under his charn^e. A satisfactory arrangement had been made for Mrs. Greely. Mrs. Armstrong had resoh^ed to part with her servants, and to leave IMrs. Greely witb her younger son Robert, who wns a jxardener, to take charG^o of Fernhill in her own absence. Mrs. Armstrong had not begun to look forward at all l^eyoud the present move to Scotland, nor to think whether slie should remain there or return home. Her whole powr of thought and feeling seemed fixed on the moment wlien the ship sliould sail that was to take Edward from her, and go on its way to save his father. Mrs. Greely was on the wharf near London Bridge to sec her husband off, and made a last hunentation that lie was going. " I must go to look after Master Edward,'' he said ; " it won't do for him to iro without me. I shall take care to bring him safe back." " If von brim? vourselP," said Mrs. Greelv. "All right, old lady; that's true, too. J'lit I've gone through many a rongli day, and it's hard if I don't get through this. AVhen we were dragc^ing our provisions and stores on from Fury Beach to I5atty Bay to stow the boats, iH''!! 'r .'li M > ill ' * ii' ■^: > ■■II ■» I 136 The Voyage cf the Constance. on sliort allowance, I knocked up one day. They had to untackle nie I'roni off the rope and leave mc behind on a rock ; and there I lay like a dead man all alone. Uut you see I'm safe here for all that." " Oh, yes, Peter," said ]\Ers. Grcely, wiping* her eyes; " but it was a wonder you were not starved to death o' cold and hung-er ; and raany's the time I've heard your old motlier tell her dream about 3'ou that very night, when she dreamed she sec you shipwrecked and cast on a rock in a desert island." " Yes, yes ; it is a wonder I wasn't starved or drowned, or one tiling or another. Only I used to say the sea Avouldn't drown us. There was our cook went down in a hole in the ice, and come up ngain six times, bloAving like a grampus, and was never a bit the worse. "We're to have a good ship, and as good a captain as sails the seas ; I'll say tliat for him, though he is but young. And let me tell you, that nine-tenths o' the ships that's wrecked and nine- tentlis o' the men that's drowned needn't be wrecked nor drowned. The ships should have been broke up as unsea- worthy, and the men put aboard better craft. That's where it is. Give me a good ship and a good captain, and I'll take my chance." This was Peter's parting speecli to his wife, as he loft her standing on the wharf, and helped a ])orter to cany his weighty chest on board the steamer. ]']dward was alrea,dy on deck, seeing Trident safely lioused in a kennel, for ho was to go also under Peter's charge. Anionic the other sledges, Peter had insisted on takinn^ the little one he made himself, "It's a little thing," he s;iid, " but it's well made, I know that, tind two dogs can chivy it along like the wind. AVho knows but what it may T rf \ T'^J 1 ' Preparation, ^37 do good service tlierc ? It won't come to pieces, I'll be answerable." lie had siren f,^tliened it greatly. The runners were shod with annealed steel, and fastened with copper rivets, and all held togetlier with seal-skin lashings. This pretty sledge was called '' The Little Maggie." Edward had ordered harness for six Newfoundland dogs, reckoning that six would make a powerful team. The harness consisted of breast collars of flat leather and a pair of traces for each. He meant to train them all, like Trident and Cliloe, to obey the voice, and would fain have trusted entirely to them ; but John would not hear of this, telling him that tlie power and speed, the enduring patience and sagacity of the Esquimaux dogs, were wonderful, and that they would find them most valuable for long journeys in bad weather and severe cold. They are trained, as ho confessed, only to obey the whip, and are half savage and woKidi ; still, J^idvvard would learn to know their true worth. When J^lward found that they were to have Es(|uiniaux dogs, he said he should try to train them to go with the voice also, at which John only shook his head. Margaret had kept one case open to show to Edward. It was that which contained the toys for barter ; and she was quite pleased at his ap])robation. Among oilier things slic had packed lier doll, that had lain quiet in a drawer ever since she had ceased to play with it. Maggie did not tell Edward that it had been a little hard for her to part with this doll. When she went to the drawer to take it out, a few tears had come at the remembrance of the old times when she used to be so hai)})y with it. Still she took it out, glad that anything she could give should help, how- ever little, to find her jiapa. !i m i^ i! W\ m i ^ .11 138 The Voyage of the Constance. " Tell me what becomes of her, Edward," she said ; *' and if sonic little Esqnimnnx gii'l gets lier and seems to like her." And he promised he would, but never guessed how much it was to Man-oie. The last evening* at Fernhill had come. Everytlnng was ready. The cottage looked deserted and melancholy, and a strange silence seemed to have taken the place of the hasty preparations of the last Aveek or two, and the cheerful sounds that used to be heard in it. The brother and sister were sitting togetlier in the study. Margaret, wlio had been so busy and helpful to her mother, that she had scarcely bad time to think, was (piite tired, and her cjcs seemed ready to close. " Go up to bed, dear," said Edward , " we must be up in the morning, and oif by tlic early train to London, and have a long journey befoi-c us." " Good-night, then, Edward," she said, and tlirew her arms round his neck; and then ihe ihought that this was the last time sliesliould sav trood-ni<2ht to him in their onco happj' bome, for so long a tim(>, made her burst into a passion of tears. Edward could scarcely restrain his as she went up to her roor.i. Tlie kind JNlrs. Greely was there to help her, and assure her that she Avould take care of tho pigeons and flowers, and everything, till they came back, and to remind her that the ioni-nov to-mori'ow would bo pleasant, and that there was Aberdeen and the ship to bo seen, and JMargaret was soon asleep. Edward meanwhiU* went in search of his mother, and found her sitting in the wood, at a spot tliat had been a particular favourite with his father, looking out at tho distant view, lighted up by the last rays of the setting sun. She was quite cahn, and she held her hand out to I i 1 4 Good-bye to Fern hi 11. 130 him as ho drew near. lie sat down by lier silently, p.nd continuincv to hold her hand, and watching her face, he saw large tears gather in her eyes, " My mother, my dear mother !" he said, " canyon bear it ? Can you wait through the whole long year — more than the whole long year — that must pass ?" " My Edward ! I have faced every thing— erer^ thing /" she replied ; " and I am ready to bear whatever it is the will of God to send. I think He will permit me to live to feel the joy, or will take me away before I know the sorrow, if it is to come ; but I am read}'- — I think I am ready for either." Edward could not speak. "And Edward, my own dear boy, whatever is before me, nothing can take away my joy in you. You, with your energy, courage, and love, are my comfort on earth." Edward had sunk down at her side, and clasped her tight in his arms. She only whispered to him, " Always take care of your little sister ;" and then, gently rising, she took his arm, and they Avalked slowly in and separated for the night. ! CHAPTER Xiy. ">( GOOD-BYE TO PEENHILL. All in the cottage were astir early in the morning, and there were no words of complaint or sadness among them. Every one was CLtirely occupied with preparations for instant departure. Mrs. Greely, with her quiet manner, waited on them at breakfast. At the proper time, Mrs. ^1 \i 140 T/je Voyage of the Constance. Armstrong, tiiking Edward's arm, set off across tlie Com- mon to the station, and, like her luisband, wlien he went, never k)oked back. Her Avholo heart was full only of desire to go onwards. Margaret was missing at tlie last moment, and her aunt, going to look for her, found her fondling and kiss- ing little Lauuey. She set him down in a moment, how- ever, and putting her hand in her aunt's, they followed along the path Avithout saying a word. It had been a great sorrow to Edward, as well as to ]\Iargaret, that they had no carrier-pigeon ready to bo taken on the voyage. The two 3'oung ones that they had only just begun to train would have been useless, and Launcy was mucli too weak to be moved yet. It was doubtful, even w'ith the care tliey had bestowed on him, and all Mrs. Grecly had promised to continue, whether he would live. Even to take him to Scotland was impossible without risking his life, far less could ho bear the confinement and bustle of the ship. Soon alter nine thev were seated in the train for Edin- ft/ burgh, where they were to stop for tlie night. They made a prosperous journey. Margaret, recovering her spirits a little, enjoyed the changing views, and was full of ([ues- tions to Edward, especially as they drew near Scotland. Her mother, too, who had generally remained very silent, and often with closed eyes, began to look out eagerly wdien they came in sight of the sea. It seemed to her that now, at last, they were really on their way towards their great object. They w^cre too tired to do anything but go to bed in the hotel that evening ; but Edward had time to take Margaret a walk about the beautiful city of Edinburgh before the train started for the north the next day. She i Good-bye to Fernhill. 141 saw the liills and the sea; the Frith of Forth, with its ishmds and rocks, and the varied coast of Fife opposite. She saw, too, the Castle on its grand rock, and the old Palace of Holyrood, and the strange picturesque buildings of the old town, and tlie long wide streets and squares of the new town. Mrs. Armstrong only shook her head when they asked her to come and look at these things. Slio had one object always iu her heart, and though she could preserve her calmness, and even talk and smile, she felt any attempt to amuse her only a cruelty, and every one soon understood her. No one suited her so well as her gentle sister ; and Edward saw this, and felt great comfort in the thought that he Avas to leave her with Aunt Mary. It was Sir Hugh's wish to keep her and Margaret with him till the hoped-for return of the ship. Edward knew this, and trusted she would consent ; but it was of no use to propose it to her at present. She was not able to think of her plans and prospects yet. The railway, as it approaches Aberdeen, runs along the summits of the grand dark rocks, against the base of which the ocean dashes, and there is a splenaid sea- view. It had never looked more beautiful tlum on this eveninj];'. The full moon rose out of the dark-blue sea in the east as the sun went down behind the hills on the west, and the extreme freshness of the air brought a colour even into Mrs. Armstrong's face. John met them at the station, and led them to Sir Hugh's carriage, which was in waiting to take them to his door. His house was a little way out of the city, standing in grounds of its own, and was large and handsome, and built, like everything else there, of granite. When Sir Hugh was in spiriij, as he used to be, he called it his '* granite palace ;" but now he was anxious and t I M ■i ^ 142 The Voyage of the Constance, nervous, and not inclined to jok'>. Ho was on the steps ■when the carriage stopped, and received them most affec- tionately ; and while he led JMrs. Armstrong np-stairs, and told Aunt Mary how glad he was to have her back, Edward and Margaret were undergoing a most boisterous and loving reception from Trident and Chloe in the lobby. Margaret soon ran up after her mamma. *' Peter has arrived I see, by Trident being here," said Edward to John. " Yes, quite safely, with everything he had in charge ; and everything is shipped. We sail to-morrow morning at eleven, with the tide. Is your mother prepared for such an immediate parting ?" " She does not know of it, but she is strong enough to bear anything. Still, we will not tell her till to-morrow morning. She will sleep better, perhaps, without knowing it, and she is very much fiitigued. Slie must be with this long journey, after all she has done and suffered." " She and Margaret will come on board after break- fast?" *' Oil, yes ; they reckon on that ; and they will see us off. It is much the best way ; and I am sure she will wisli it. If this weather Avould but last !" " It will last. AVe shall have this south-east wind for some days yet. I grudge every hour of it that we lose ; but to-morrow is the first moment we could get away." The party were soou assembled at supper, but separated early for the night, with an engagement that they should visit the " Constance " after an eight-o'clock breakfast. I I H3 CHAPTER XV. thf: " Constance" sails. The nexfc morninn-, tlie Lst of July, rose clear and bright, 'Nvitli a fresh breeze from tlie south-east, and the carriage "was at the door at half-past eight, to convey the ladies to the harbour, accompauied by Sir Hugh. John and Edward had not br-e.akfasted with them ; they had been in the ship since six in the morning. The carriage stopped, and Edward was at the door in a moment to hand them out. They walked to the entrance of the harbour, and saw the sea beyond, covered with white crests, and heard the dash of the waves against the break- water. A crowd of shipping lay in the harbour, and Margaret looked at one line ship after another, thinking each woidd be the " Constance;" but they passed on to the very end of the pier. The " Constance " Liy there ready to move out with the tide. John stood at the gangway ready to rceeive them. Every nuui was on board. There Avas no hurry nor confusion. The decks were elean and white ; the tall masts and yards ready to receive the crowd of sail that would soon be spread to the wind ; the anchor was heaved up ; the boats w^ere shipped. Mrs. Armstrong saw in a moment that the hour which she dreaded, and yet longed for, was at hand. She pressed Edward's arm and trembled, but her heart was firm and her faith supported her. She held out her hand to John, and as he led her on board she tried to say something to him j but, though her lips moved, no words came. Every one on board stood bareheaded to receive her, I I;' .^1 i f 12 ;.• 144 TJ)c Yoydge of the Constance. and a fmo sofc of men ilicy looked — men wlio bore tlio promise in tlieir fiices Dmt tlioy would do their work brnvely ; and fliere was not one among tliem but ^iAi,, as lie looked at lier pale face and her beautiful eyes, so full of feeling and yet of courage, that he would go through any dangers for her sake. John introduced his oflicers and men to her by name. Peter was not the only one among them she had seen before. Several of those John had brought from London had been at Fernhill ; but at this moment she could not speak to any one, and scarcely could distinguish one face from anothei*. It rcfiuired all her strength to preserve lier calmness. " Tell them," she whispered to Jolm, "that T am not able to sfy to them how much I feel for one and all." lie had scarcely occasion; they saw and understood the expression of her face. Margaret, who did not observe the signs of instant departure so quickl}", was all impatience to see everything, and Edward's cabin in the first place ; so he led her there directly. It was, as slic very naturally exclaimed, a funny little place, about six feet long and five wide. I'Alward chose to sleep in a hammock, so all she saw to serve as his bed was some canvas rolled tightly up, and two cot-hooks, one at each end >f his cabin ; and there could only be room to turn round in the space left when the hammock was slung. Two drawers, or lockers, as sailors call them, served as stand to a table, wdiich, opening at the top, made a washing- stand. Above were two shelves filled with books ; at the other end, a shelf, with his writing and drawing-desks. Various nails and hooks, each held some useful article. On one hung a lamp ; on another an ink-bot'le ; on a third, his water-bottle for sketching ; another was for his watch. r I, \ t The Constance Sails H5 Opening liis lockers, ho showed her his clothes ; his thick sailor's trousers and Jersey frock, his suits of seal-skin and deer-skin, and his sleeping-bags ; and told hor every man on board had the same. In a chest that ho opened, ho told her she would see his treasures. These were the clothes that had been prepared for his father ; not only the furs and skins, but the linen and underclothing : every article of which had been made ready by his mother's hands or chosen by her. Margaret leaned her face down and left a kis:i there before he closed the lid. What she wanted to see next was Trident's kennel, and then the est of the dogs; so sho was conducted to the fore part of the ship, where six comfortable kennels were ranged. Trident and Chloe were at large, wandering whei'o they liked, but the other four — Neptune, Nelson, Samson, and Juno — were chained up, and Edward would not let her go too near them, as, though they knew him, he was not sure of their behaviour to her. The sledges he could not show her. He could only point out to her wliere they were stowed away; but he took her to see the crow's nest, and she saw how a trap-door opened at the bottom to let the man go through, and then stand securely in it. He also showed her the ice-saw, twenty feet long, for sawing tln-ough the ice ; the ice-chiscis and ice-anchors, great iron hooks for throwing out and holding to bergs or floes, with the lines belonging to them. Margaret next saw the cap- tain's cabin, and one to match it for her ftither, and peeped into some of thu bed-places of the officers and men, and went down to the engine-room, and saw the engine, which would not bo wanted while this wind lasted ; the furnace, and the apparatus for melting snow or ice to supply water also the steward's room. She exclamied in wonder at the 10 i; V, tl •l^i i I k i t 1 ■I 146 The Voyage of the Constance. multitude of usoful tliing-s it coutaiued, stowed away in such small compass. She ended her journey over the ship by going into the large cabin between decks. Here there were long diuing-tables ; plenty of comfortable seats ; also book-cases well lilled with books; the whole giving it an air of comfort. Here she found her mother, who had been led over the ship by John. Sir Hugh was there also, the m.uni{icent provider of all. Mrs. Armstrong laid her hand on his arm. " We arc very grateful to you," she said, as well as her trembling lips could say the words. " Stay with me, my dear Constance, while they are away," he replied; "and we will help each other to bear the tedious time till the ship returns. Give me the plea- sure of feeling that I can take care of you and your dear little girl." *' Yes, dear mother, stay here, and let us meet 3'ou on this pier when that lime comes. Keei^ up heart, and strength, and courage," said Edward. " I will," she replied, and laid her hand in Sir Hugh".-^, as if to tell him she would accept his oiler gratefully. John took her other hand and grasped it, and looked in her face. She understood him. The time was come, aiid they must go ashore. He led her to Ihe gangway. The pier was ci'owded, and every vessel Jind every height com- manding a view of the harbour was filled with people to see the rescue-shij) sail ; for great interest had been excited for the Armstrong family in their calamity, and in the cir- cumstance of a boy of Edward's age having I'csolved to go in search of his lather. Mrs. Armstrong, however, saw nothing that was around her. She walked (quickly, and when John, stepping ashore, led her towaids the carriage, 4 i to h1 111 'The Constance Sails. HI the people made a lane for licr to pass tlironii^li, and kept perfect silence. Ethvard followed : liis little sister, who had only jnsb found out tlie trutli, clinginr^ to him, con- vulsed with sobs and tears, so tliat he was oblif^ed to lead her alono" with his arm round licr waist, and many a pitying look followed the " poor lassie." ]\[rs. Armstrong was already seated witfi Sir Hniili and Miss Armstrong, who received her little niceo in lier arnis when Edward lifted her in. The carriage-door was shut. " Drive round to the high ground, where we can see the ship," said Sir Hugh. The coachman obeyed, and they drove otf. John and Edward were on board the next moment. There was a pause for five minutes. Then the gangway was removed ; a bustle })egan on deck ; the pilot stood at the lielni : the ropes tliat hold tlie ship were hauled in ; slowly she began to move ; she passed the end of the pier : loud cheers arose from tlie crowd, mixed with cries of " God bless and prosper ye !" " Gnde-bj-e, and blessings on his youno- head that ^-ancs sae fai to save his fither !" " Gude luck t'ye, and come liame safe!" "Send them hame!" and many a kind word of sympathy. And now, as the sounds ashore fell into silence, three lie.'irty cheers rose from the ship, where the wliole of the crew were collected on tho (|uarter-deck, theic young (Japtain and Edward conspicuous in the midst of tlsein. 'i'l:e next moment the ropes and laddei's were swarminir willi busy hands; from everv vard the white sails were unfurled, and flapped and fluttered against the masts ; each i(»ok its place '.ind swelled to tlie wind; the pilot dropped tVom the stern into his l)oat to come ashore, and the " Constanco" bounded over the waves. ^ f I h'i -■ i' 1 1 I I I I ! 'fl \h !■ i M .1 HI < r rfi I . 1* 148 CHAPTER XVi. r. U-15 Y R TO B R I T A I X. Every man on board seemed to have his special work to do as sail after sail was spread to the wind. John stood, tele- scope in hand, before the wlieel, directing the two men who steered. He had forgotten home and all its cares, and joys, and sorrows, and his whole soul was in his ship. Mr. Macleod, the master, was giving his short, rapid orders to the seamen, who answered with their ready "Ay, ay, sir!" and hauled at the ropes with their usual song. Edward alone stood looking over tlie side, to iind the group who tilled his heart at that moment. He still saw the crowds ashore, but not those he sought for ; and tliat last look at his mother's face made him long to see that she was able to be there, somewhere. Fast and faster flies the ship. The houses and spires of the city, the cliffs, the hills, begin to fall into distance ; the people look smaller and smaller. " There they are !" he exclaims, half aloud, as he sees four figures appear clearly against the blue sky, on a rocky lieight beyond that on which the crowds had collected. Yes, thei-e is his mother's liglit dress iluttering in the wind. She is leaning on Sir Hugh's arm, and Aunt .NFary is at her other side ; and there is JMaggie, mounted on a pinnacle of rock behind them, and stretching out her arms towai-ds him in her eafrer, loving wjiy, not thinking any one can see her. But he can see her; he has his glass at his eye, aiul can see them all distinctly. He even sees their faces plainly. Sir Hugh is steadying a glass for his mother, and she looks through. He waves his handkerchief. She returns his signal. And M k he rly on r's Sir 're vr, all is rh. :J Good-bye to Britain. 149 riow Magg'ie — he feels as if he couhl hear her call his name fis she jumps off her rock — is lookini^ too, and she pulls off her shawl and waves it. It makes a long red streamer in the wind. The breeze freshens. 'N'ot a breath of it is lost. The masts bend under the crowd of sail that is spread ; the ship flies faster and faster ; the forms he loves so well fade and melt into air ; home is left beliind ; and the rescue voyage has begun in earnest. "Ain't she slippin' through the water pretty?" said Peter's voice behind him. Edward started, for the tone and words made a strnnge contrast to the thouo^hts that were swellini>' within him ; but he looked after Peter, who was huri-ying off, t(xjls in hand, to the fore part of the ship, and then dashed off after him, and was S(»on hard at work, hammering, sawing, and planing with him and his mate at some reijuired altera- tion. i'ldward had refused to take any charge in the ship, for he wanted to be free \o give all his energies to his one great object. His hands were already hard with the work he had done while the shi[) was fitting out, and he was an expert enough carpenter to do a great deal, lie was also fast learning to run up the ladders and climb the ropes, lor this sort of clambering had always been much more to liis taste than Creek and Latin. So, as he told Joliu, he was to be considered as " J^oy" in the shi[), and set to helj) at everything. If he must have any title, it might be " JMaster of the Doufs," for lie enua^ed to take complete charLie of them ; and it wouhl be one of his and Peter's occiipalit)ns to pi'cpare shelter and accommothition for the aiKlitioii to their number of dogs that they should get in (Jreeidand. 1 1.' ■; if f ' )i !• i,:^ i. If 150 The Voyage of the Constance. Besides this, lie promiscti to act as clerk or secretary, if John required one. He was summoned from Lis work by Mr. Allen, who said the Captain wanted liini. " Oh, Edward, I have a minute's leisure now we are going steady nn our course, and want you to come and look at the red j^ranite cliil's of Peterhead, and tell nie if you saw your mother and all of them n^-ain among the people ashore." Edward told him of their reco<4'nition, and then turned to enjoy the line view of the coast. There was almost a lall ot work on board. The men were resting and sitting together in grouj)S, chatting or smoking their pipes. The dinner-bell rani!' at two, a,nd the luiiiv a>sendjled. The whole shi})'s company were there, except tho>e on duty, who had the table tilled an'ain for them afterwards, when they were relieved. There was a kind of least this iirst da}', ])i'ovided by Sir iliigli, and it looked as if tlie fruit- nnirket must have been eniDtiec], so i;reat was tlie show of strawberries. Kdv/ard diil justice to the good fare with such an appetite as to make John laugli, and draw forth a mock lamentation from Allen, who said he had flattered liimself he should have had one patient, at all events, ibr a Jew weeks ; but he saw tliere was no h(>[)(' lor him: for if the pitching ol' the ship over this ilays long rolling swell did not produce a touch of sea-sielvuess, there was not much chance for the future. The Captain made a speech after dinner. TTc reminded the crew of the pur[)o^e of the; voyage ; told them in simple but touchini:" lan<>"ua<!:e how the disaster of the " Pole- Star'' had come to light ; s[)oke of the i)ressing necessity for haste to relieve Captain Armstrong and his crew j said 1 a ■od ir a I- if 1 ed iji e- ud Good-bye to Britain. 151 1)0 felt assured lie could trust every man present to do his duty, and forward their great aim by ready obedience to discipline and the course he should think it right to pursue, and by cheerful endurance of hardship and danger, if need wore ; and that it should be his aim, while he pressed for- ward tlu'ough fair weather and foul, to promote the har- mony and well-being of them all. " But let our motto be,'' he concluded, " Onward to the rescue ! " This speech was heartily cheered ; and he waited with Edward to preside at the second filling of the table, and repeated something of the same kind to the other men, after they had dined. On both occasions they showed great feeling, and many a rough hand was hold out to Edward as thc}' passed out to go on deck, with a kind expression of encouragement, such as, " Don't be down- hearted any way ! " " There'll be some one tliere directly ! '' "We'll bo up with 'em ! " " Keep heart ! " and so on. They were passing Kinnaird Head, and holding more to the eastward to cross the j\[oray Eritli, when Edward crot on fleck n^'ain, and they saw no more of land till the sun set behind the bold headland at the north-east corner of Scotland. In that golden sunset the crow liad assem- bled to evening prayers, led by their Captain, and ivfter- wards Edward was glad to climb into his hannnock, and was soon asleep. Tlicy w(>re lying-to in Stromness Roads, to land in Orkney for fresh butter and milk — their last chance before tlitv crossed the wide Atlantic — when Edward awoke at the noise, and at some voice })roclaiming, "One hour to go ashore! '' So he jumped out, and had his clothes on, and got on dcH'k as the boat was lowered, into which he dropped, after leave given by the Captain. ^1; 4 Ip r ( 1 1 ,' T I. ! '.U.i i ! - ■■ 152 7"/;^ Voyage of the Constance. It was five o'clock on a lovely snmraer mornino* ; but» the sun had been up since tliroe, for there was hardly any ni,L»;1ifc now in this northern latitude, and the air was as brisflit and clear as a diamond. Lcavinof Adam Black, the master's mate, who was trusted with the task of foraging, to visit the principal farm, Edward managed, by giving a shilling, to hire a Shetland pony, in order to ride to a small farm about two miles oil', having heard a man say there were plenty of fresh eggs thei-e. Adam tried to persuade him not to go, for I'ear he should be too long about it ; but Edward insisted on the good breakfasts the eggs would supply, and gained his point. So that, after the l)ony had kicked and turned round two or tliree times, it was obliged to yield to his urgent remonstrances in the shape of a stick, and galloped off up the stony road. lie drew up at the door of the farmhouse, and, telling his errand, was kindly asked to walk in. J'^arly as it was, the familv was all astir. Tlierc was but one room, but it was of good size. There were box bedsteads along the v.'nlls, which, having just given out their inhabitants, were in disorder. The peat lire had been newly lighted on the heiirth in the middle of the lloor, sheltered from the drauglit by a wall, about lour feet high ; the smoke par- tially escaping at a hole above. A hu-ge iron pot full of water, ready t(j nud^e the porridge for breakfast, hung over it by a chain suspended I'rom llie rafters. In oiu; corner was a calf and a bevy of tlie fowls, to whom Edward's visit was in fact ])aid, Ibi' he came for their eggs; a pig, a dog, and several ducks, were; in another corner. All the human part of tlie household were gone out, except the gudewife, with a baby in her arms, and she went to collect the eggs without delay. She soon returned with lour Good-bye to Britain. 53 JO 10 r- .'!• I s ti dozen ill a basket, and asked so small a pvico for the whole, that Edward, when he had slung the basket on his arm, and paid something over, refused to take the change. While they carried on some little altercation on this matter, he was suddenly assaulted from behind, and stretched on the ground at her feet by the pig, who was carrying on a boisterous mime ^vith the door. Numbers of the ei^'j^s were smashed, and the rest rolled in all directions ; the pig began to devour them as fast as possible, assisted by the ducks, who Hew out of their corner upon the tempting food ; the dog barked furiously, the l)aby screamed louder still, and the gudewife, seizing a stick, aimed blows at pig, dog, and ducks, in succession. Edward contrived to get out of the scramble with some difficulty, but hardly was he on his feet, than he was pro- voked to Sf^e that a little urchin of a bov had unfastened tlio pony he had left tied to a post at the door, and then, frightened at the way it Hung up its heels, had let go, and so the pony was off full speed home again. Everything siink into insigiiincance in comparison with the fear of being too late and keejilng the boat waiting; so, witliout a tliought given to the eggs, Edward darted oif after him, leaving the gudewife lamenting over the havoc. " Surely ye'U no gang awa' tliat gate," she shrieked after liim, " leaving the siller and naething for it I Get oot every aiie o' ye, and sorrow be wi'ye," she added, giving vigorous strokesinalldirections.aud.sendinii'all her creatures running and Hying out at the doors, except the pig, who charged round the other side and came back aofiiin. "And vou must gang and meddle wi' the powney, too," slie cried to the buy outside. " Dinna stand greetin' there, but riii awa' down the lancr loan and thro' the muckle lield and see if J w I:' '5* The rcyn.e of the ConsUnue ••' ''«'<= i" front down fi,o ' , "^ "^^ P""-V> "'ho cantered '->v--.-t..eon,cdince!,-J,o!l,Z', ''1'"" '"'■' '^''"^^ "''-"- ;<? -' .son.e ,,..„ „ii u:t S 3"- ?r '^ ^'"'^"^^^ «'-o "as no e!,anee of IZL i'r''''-^' '^-•■- ^''-ed that '•'S.-'i". ^ '""'' """=' ""J tl'o chase began to»-a,.J.s „■),;,., !,e .steered- ..„,," ," ""'"'''^'^ <=°™«r, -''°''-'"",l to hi.s iovhis no' :";' ''"""""'«°-''''n>beredover %;;vI.o b,,d ,et {J]!2 "°' "''""'■•^^' ^>- «- -me "Tl,a„k vc, nn- boy." ,.,.,•, ,,-, , , throwing .si, „,.,- J '"^'' '■^'"•"'■d, mounting, and -'lulior's sonf vo vi. tip , ;-^ «-i„er wi;L;':h wt; pt""'r'" ^^ "-^^ I'^-d and galio,,ed oil; .screelv-'l 1 "'"''' ""'•>' "^'""^'^"^ -■-^ not til. ancrv..,. ,.";:: ^T' V"'' "'"'^ ^^-■^'- I' -Hler..tood the poor w'o. 's [' "":""''^ " "-•. "■"* Lo f'"- inn, wl,cn 1,„ r,,,,,^, , , '" '"" '"o'^" "ut inipaticntly ->cce.ssf,a nKu.ketin,. t, ^' ;T '; ''''^'^' ''-' ™-'^^ a -gain in OrloK,- ; and M ;'"" •■^f-'---''^ -^ 'us fe«t wa.s a .stan,li„gjoke "^ ^"'•''' ^S'g at break- '^'"•' ''"> '""• "^eiruu her wcstwrnl c , . "-scwaid cour,so before the The Ocean, 155 boat luid been hauled up for many minutes, and the Head of Hoy, the highest point of the red cliffs of Orkney, was lost to view before two hours were over. The last inhabitant 0!' the islands they saw was an eagle, soaring overhead homewards to his eyrie. CHAPTER XVII. !* li THE OCEAN. Tin: " Constance " had a sjdendid run across the Atlantic. Ten da3's after she left licr harbour the flocks of sheerwaters, or Cape hens as the sailors call tlicm, announced the near neighbourliood of Capo Farewell, the southern point of Greenland. Tlie wind had been wonderfully steady till this time, generally blowing from the south and cast, but now a change seemed at hand. A heavy mist covered the sea on the night of the liith ; the Avind became variable, blew m squalls from the west, then cliangcd to south-east again and increased to a gale, under which the mists vanished, and showed a sky covered \vith heavy clouds, and the sea rose and dashed against the sliip, breaking in foam over her decks. But the good shi[) was able to battle with the storm. She had but little sail, for the wind was so strong that the canvas would have been split into pieces by the furious blasts before which she was driven. The waves Ibllowed her almost as fast as she darted through the boiling waters, heaving up her stern, and then sinking her bows deep into the hollow of the sea, as if she would have dived down beneath the waves. l i \ mi I Ui ^56 ne J Til I'Ollo-liout V^.f^' c/ the Const. (inci cry J "^^'^'K two .stoa,]y 'our of tl ns 11 i( seamen woiv af. t] ^^vilio-ht of ,iio<I t'-^eepfc for fii,^,;,^ Rubl t and one J look M Jolin stoofi oil iiiornino' tl curtain seemed to J '^'"'•, wlien, as tj f^"t was kept. TlioJ prevented total dark onir ^'Jiess. >o roar of \hc t 'JVC fallen ar ^^^I'o was no nio( m, a ^vard could .sec hy tl '" ors and men, as '"P^'-^t ^vas lioard. Tl 'y^A throu^rk ,vhfc,I oflic 'y tlie lf.r|,( o' fs on boai-d tl '^^1 ^t was thai Ed. ^^^^^■« "^ tin's nfo.],f .. tI""" '^''^ ^"'^ ^^"ty. Jf, steady faees of I ivn own before, and tl « ''^Sht of John's cl made still st 'c strono. affection b f^'-^^'tcr than ho had ^ learned ever '<^"i,^er, for unw 1 ^;>^^^^n, who had playod "1 thu hour of d fi ^vith him G saw that tl iis a b t^vccn them u 1^' eai-elcss niei'i a.s y m phy anger as ho t^iHvard ^'^y, was as cool and ^v.-'s careless and merrv ^'Jst of tl '^'ould not o-o below, but that th 'G i"en, worl, e t^ick. PorJ ^ip, and h violent inot ''^i'^^' with tl ^'J'ose to remain in tho lOI ^'P-^ it was tl ^ '^^' tho ship did •^»^- It was won le onern-yofl not inake 1 iterfnl «^-^>od spirits; f^^rliotblt us mi "in sea- ^•^^•^ ^ov the storm 1 I towards his fatl ' 'because it was" d 10 fe '^'Uhatk-epth nil iw ^"(^ did not cl ose byl '^^r. Peter, 1 :^^'V'- ^^'^"' on faste ^o g-o aloft "•^ side, aiid would ; 'owever, insisted on his 1 on no consideration all u bo iV vCC] ow 1 r )inn' o, n nin-ht np on the maint o, i^fr. Edwai'd "' 1 nni le s, "■^^. "it's all answerable f, ^^■non it's not bl '^P' ^' you will, any 1 ^'^^0' well to 'Winn- ow- you t()-nio.l,t n .'^ ■rent un keep dose hy ,„; \ ;"'°"' '■'^•^" "" Jcck, (,• ^. ^ '■ ^^^""^.•'' ■"»"'« I.00U washed o inl esser storms than 1 1 -^on't she rid ^oi- th o out tho o-al "•^ '«. ^\iii't si ic a 1)1 '^>"^' of^ the day or " •"' ^^^it I'll not b on won't overboarti « vwaves than a duck i^'i'c sweetly h ,sh P'"etty craft iiowH ' «^' one o' them diver; e cares no mor. 's as went The Ocean. I c? cr 'i? () swimming past us in iho twilight. Like a duck she is ! liiat slie is ! Hold fast on that rope now ! Wo shall ship that sea that's comiutr !" And then, afte n* a good drench- ing with salt water, they stood steady waiting for the next orders. The wind gradually abated as the night wore on, and about two o'clock in the morning a heavy bank of cloud that had hung over the horizon i)arted suddenly, and the first rays of the rising sun shot across the sea from behind (lie high mountains of Greenland. They had doubled Cape Farewell, and the ship's course was changing to the northward. '• Well, Edward, my boy !" said John, coming up to him and shaking him heartily by the hand, " there's a view to cheer ouv hearts ! We've had a good fight for it this night, but we're all right now. The wind's easting more and more, and we shall soon be in smooth water. I must go to bed and get some sleej) before we get up our steam, which we shall have to do before many hours are over, for a calm will follow all tliis, if 1 am not; mistaken." Edward promised to follow soon to take some rest and relreshment, but he could not all at once take his eyes off the grand view^ of the Greenland coast, that opened as the liu'lit increased. As he was nudvim? up iiis mind to tro down, the Master gave orders for the crow's nest to be hoisted to its place, and he could not resist waiting to see the look-out nuin take his station. Then he waited a little longer, for the work that had just been done suggested the ice, and he Ion "red to have the hrst look at it. Mr. Macleod ti)ld him two bergs had drifted past in the night, but ho had not seen them. I ,»■ 158 The Voyage of the Constance. Ten minutes liad not pfiHsotl, when '• A l)ery; a-licad !" •vvas shouted I'roni tlic crow's nest. There it was, the first icchcrg- Edward's eyes had seen, oficn as lie h:id ininL,n"ncd one ; and a <[^rnnd sight it was. It kiohrd, as it bore down on tiie .ship, like a i^Toat moun- tain of ice vi>inn: out of tlic sea. Tlie waves tliunderod against it, and daslied up its side a huiulred feet. "You're in hick, ]\lr. ]'hhvard," said ]\rach^od ; "you sehlom see a taller henv than that as far south as we arc now; and it will pass us to windward, so you mny take a good look of it." Edward asked its height, and was answered, " about three hundred feet above the water, and twice as much, below." As they drew nearer tho great berg presented the .ap- pearance of a conical hill, bearing on its summit a vast cathedral of white marble veined with blue, rising into countless minarets and spires, which caught the rosy tint of the sky on their peaks. Every instant new v/ondcra came to view ; hollow caverns in its sid(>s, into whicli the sea rushed ;ind foamed, and rows of columns up which it dashed like tongues of flanu\ On it sailed, till a mist tli:it began to creep over the sea hid it from view, except that sometimes it L-lanced and i>'liltered throuji'h its cold white veil. " Come along, ^faster Edward," siiid Pcfer, "I've got a kittle under weigh, and some boilin' wnter, and made you a good cup of hot cotfee ; and you can't sec no more, and vou're drenched to the skin, (let into your hnnmiock, and we'll wake yc up in good time; the Captain won't be astir for four or live lumrs, I reckon, for lie's had a iiretfy good spell o' the deck since ycsterdny morning. I'm jv.-eity The Ocean. 159 well tired myself, and going to turn in, so I don't want (o leave you a standln' here." Edward was not at all sorry now to take Pcier's good advice, and with nnmy thanks for liis coiroe, whieli he found very comfortable, stnggered dcnvn to his cabin and got off his wot clolhes, not without sevend bnnips and tumbles, for the motion was still e:\ccs.sivc. Allen, who was his near neighbour, hailed him as h; was settling down in his hammock. "Holloa, Edward, is that you ?" *' Yes ! where have you been all this time ?" "Very miserable in bed. I thought T could stand any amount of pitching, but it has conquered mo to-night." " Poor old fellow ! Can I do anything for you r" " No — not uidess you can steady the ship, and I sup- pose that's beyond you." Edward was asleep before the last word. When ho awoke at eight o'clock there was no motion at all. ITo began to think they were standing still, and got up that ho mip*ht jjo and see. He luid not iinished dressing; when Allen's voice, without au}^ of the lamentable sound of the early morning in it, called out to him to " come up, for they had got among the ruins of Thebes." What a scene he saw when he got on deck ! Tiie sea was as deep a blue as the sky above it, and perfectly'' calm. The bold coast of Greenland, with its dark clids andmcjun- tains capped with dazzling snow, Iny on the right hiuid. On the left was — what was it ? Allen had calleil it " the ruins of Thebes." To Edward's ej'cs there appeared at the edge of the dark-blue sea an extensive plain, covei-ed with the remains of ruined cities. Obelisks and needles of pure white nuirblo \ I so' ii i if I 1 1 60 77;^ Voyage of the Constance. shot up into the sky. Enormous columns, glancing with ull the colours of the rainbow, supported fantastic cupolas and domes studiled with flashiii«jf diamonds. Frao^ments of massive wiiUs tund)led about in confusion, here standing out square and dark against the sky, there shivered into angular i'ornis, ahovi; which would again rise some great temple with porticoes and arches. ^Vhllehe gazed at this scene in blank amazement, he started, for it vanislied as suddenly as a Hash of lighlning, leaving in its place the calm sea wilh a distant fleet of icebergs on its surface, lie had been looking at one of the wonders of refraction ; so it has been agreed to call that state of th(! air which makes it reflect and repeat in irregular (jvder, or upside down, or in wavy outline, natural objects whieli haj)[)(>n to be ])re- sent. Vi is sometimes seen in our climate, and is common in the Arctic regions. " You need not want to travel to Egyi^t after that," sold, Allen. " Wliat we have seen is blvC the work of tiie Titi i.^, and Karnac a temple of the })igmies in comj)arison." While he spoke (he womU'rl'ul sight returned as sud- denly as it (bsap])eared, but all distorted and indistinet, then vanished again. " Oh, .lohn, 'Make haste I"' cried Kdwai'd, seeing him emerge Irom his (jabin. '' I'erliaps Thebes will eome again. Yes ; icok there !" The plain appeared again, more gnindly covered than ever. Sometimes AHen ihchired it was I'aaibec, sometimes Athens, but it was nu)st like Thebe's. John had never seen j-efraction make such a splendid picture before. As he said h^ it was gone, and it did not return. "That's right, Macleod," said he, as he tin-iied away, and looked up at the I'unnel, out of which the smoke was I f The Ocean. i6i t% rising: "you're getiing up the steam,! sec! Our sails may soon bo taken in as useless." The sails were, indeed, (lapping lazily against the masts, and Edward had begun to feel a sort of feverish impatienei; creeping over him at the slowness of their progress. Wa had hn I no op})ortunity of feeling so before during theii* rapid vc^. ago. Any one might have thought that ho could take the ()j)portunity of sketching a very pictures(|uo ice- berg that had just come in sight, pouring down a cataract, of })ure water from a hollow near its summit; but he felt no inclination to att:;mpt it. Iweiy hour since the moi'n- ing when the dreadful news was brought home he had spent in energetic action, of one kind or 3ther, towards forward- ing the rescue. I'hther he had been travelling, helping to pack, ordering stores, or actually at work in the ship. To stand still and sketch would disgust him. lie felt as if he should never cjirc! lor it. ngaiti , and now, as he looked round and saw nothing for him. to do on deck, he was o5i the point of going down to the engine-room, to see how the stokers were nettini:' on, when he heard a boat ordereil to the ic:(d)erg to take in fresh water. To get leave to join the boat-party and take his dogs foi' a run on the i)crL;', was the work of a moment. Trident am!. Ciiloe wie ulrciidy :d his side; the rest were soon un- chiiricd, ami bcjunding and barking round him. ^rrident ibdowed lirst to tlie ship's side, and instead of getting into tlio boat leaped at once int • the .sea. " A. cMpital thought I'' said Kdward to himself, begin- ning to .ake o!f his ii'cket. ''Just throw mv clothe.-; into that cave at the side," said he, giving theiii in charge to the steersman ; and olf he went, nnd om; dog after another splashing i.u aucr him, and the seven hcatls were soon in II h' i ' 1. I V I' I: %Ui 162 The Voyage of the Constance. rapid progress towards the borg, accompanied by sliouts of lauglii(M' Iroiii llu} sliip and boat. The ice-cave was reached in safety, and lulward canglit his bundle of elotlies that Hie sailors tlirew to liini, but it was ii(> ens^' matter to (h-ess among the rai)turous bounds and caresses of his dogs. However, by means of some stei'Ji eommnnds in a stentorian voice, lie got rid of them and f^ent them scouring over tlie berg ; after wliich he was soon ready to follow, for his thick sailor's trousers and red Jersey <lid not tnlvc long to put on. r)nt he first explored tlie cave, Avhich was wonderfully beautiful. Tt swelled into a dome in the centre, and the whole was in cnlnur a ti*ans- parent uliramarine blue. Af the vmy end he found a black still lake of salt water, left there by the sea when stcn'my, pei-haj>s reaching to an immense de[)fh. He felt sure of it when I;e bad thi'own in a great bouldei' that la}' on the brink, and observed tli{> time it took before a hollow sou?*!, echoin(»' throu[::h the cave, told him it had reached tlie bottom. He shout(Ml to hear the echo again, and his voice returncil to him six times. Then he t urnc>d towai'ds the opening to meet his dogs, f )r a chorus of de(»p-toned bark- ing nu\de him suppose they wi-re all rushing in again, but he only saw Trident's dafk body, cont I'ast ini;* with the bright blue of the sea biyond ; tlu' echo had mulf i[)lIiHl his bark into a chorus. It sounded, liowmer, like a summons, and he went out and explored the icc^-mountain, U]i hill and dnwn dale, getting nniny a good tumble, and slipping and sliding al,»out, and determined to bi-ing an ice-pole next time. Sharp crags and pinnacles ran high from the top ; these it was inip()ssil)le to climb, but he managcil to leaidi the cavei-n beneath them, out of which thc> cascade poured down. The water canu.' sj»ark!ing out beneath a canopy of The Ocean. 163 crieriintic iciclcF?, and nil down its course tlic chrinnel it luid worked for iiselfwjis frinn-od with tliem. From the point; wliere Edward stood lie looked a Imndred feet down a per- pcndlculiir wall of ice, like freftrd silver, into the sea, and J could see deep d(v,vn tlirouji^-li the blue waters the milky- A white base of the bcri^', to a depth of at least two hundred. 4 Having sufficiently taken his pleasure, he joined the seamen in knocking' off great blocks of ice with liammei's and chisels, till, having got a snificient loail, they rowed back, the fleet of do:;'s f )llowing in the wake, and got on board, Edward :ind his dogs equally rcfi'csluMl. Tlu? S(pinre blocks of pui'c ice were put into the water- casks to melt in the sun, aiid proved delicious water. Allen, who had never seen such before, wiis as I'uli of adnnration as IMward, and said here wa^ proof positive that icebergs wei'c composed of fresh water and came oif Ihe land. "To be sure the}' do!" said Petei', who was helping with the ice. "You nevcu' see n. real IxM-g nowhere but in Ihdlin's Hay and Davis' Sti'alt, or in the Atlantic Ocean, wluT" they drifts out into. '^fl'-e}' come from the great L;*lasheers at the head o' the ^^\\x, and comes sailin' down on the cuvnuit. They're; altogethci" a difVeretd. thing from the sea-ice, tb.at the tloes and the great 1 ek is inaile on. Those great glasheers is a wonderful sight, so they tells me. \Vio hadn't none in Hoothia." " Ah, ye.'','' said Allen, " now I riMnemlxn' : those niu'thern glaci'^^rs in*e said to be composed of ice tl.at is clear and <3ompa/'t. mlike the; glaciers of tin; Alps, which ^jf* por(>tt« a»nd thi-f^f, as if half snow, half ice. Nothing ca» fee niore dear and bright than these blocks you have br.>ttgf.^ i#." [, C I ,4i i| 364 The Voyage of the Constance. "It's a wonderful tliini^ to me," said Peter, " wlicre those quantities of ice eome Irom on tlie land. Tlicy tell me some o' those glasheers is forty miles long by ton broad, and where there are cliasnis you sec an enormous thickness — a hundred feet or more." " It is occasioned by the enormous quantity of snow tl'.fit falls on the tops of tlio mountains, thawing partially in the long Arctic sunlight, running down the slopes, freezing again, ami lilling the valleys. Tlie glaciers of the Alps are the constant springs troni which many of the rivers are constantly W'xX.'"' " Then wliat beats me," said Peter, " is why the ice don't stop on land ami grow thicker and broader conti- nually, and why it all c(Mnos slippin' down, as they sa}'' it docs, and gets into tlie sea at last." " Why, tlicre's a constaiii ])rocess of thawing gtung on in the summer on all \\\.(i outer surface, and at the outer edges of the ice-fit>lds. Then the earth has a certain warmth tliat loosens their hohl, and so the}' come down by their own weiLrlit. IJesidcs this, cc.Mivnlsions occur that make changes and cause nu)vcments. ^ri\e ice parts with a sound like thunder, sending out a blast of air ol' fi'ee/ing coldness that has been imprisoned beneath it, and enormous masses ai'c hurled down, pilcil on one Jinotlu-r, and form ice-moun(ains. No tloubt some of these bergs have been lurnied in t !ia( way." I rcmcinuer san I VA war I u I'cadiiifr in K; me s ac count of llu! cxpcilition of the 'A<l\ance' and 'Rescue' in b^-^o, a description of tlu> ' biilh of an iceberg,' given by ILerr (Iruruleitz, (K'put3'-assistan( of owv. of the Danish colonies in C'^vcnland. lie was lishing in a boat in the deep water at the base of the cliifs, and noticed a group of 'The Ocean. 165 ^i " wlicro 'liey tell I broad, fckncss f snow artfally slopes, of the of the lie ico coiiti- say it iriL,'' on oiifer erlain ,'n by that with e/ing nious form been 5 ac- cue ' iven nisli tlio p of seals sporting beneatli one of the glaciers tliat protruded over the sea, forming an iee-canopy of enormous weight, and thickness. Suddenly a ticking sound "was heard, and the seals disappeared below the water. At this his .l']s([uiniaux attendants insisted on his removing farther otf, and rowed him away a mile. Scarcely had they got this far when a tremendous explosion was lu'ard, iind a gi'oat mass fell iuto the sea, amidst (bam and mist, with I'ovei'be- rations like thunder. The boat was almost upset by the rapid succession of swells, and in the commotiou tlio mass that had caused it floated oil', an iceberg. JJut, hurrah ! The eiiLiine has u'ot to work !'' And iudeed the "Constance,'' sudtlenly roused from her laziness, began to cut her way through the water. Mile after mile of coast was soon left behind, and l-ldward was up iu the crow's nest half the day, watching it, and rejoicing in the lons^ track she left behind her iu the smooth sea. He blessed the good screw in his heart, ami Sir Hugh for giving it to them; ;ind thought what irritation it would have been if tliey had lingered hour afier hour becalmed. IV^ter had always .shaken his lieail and given a dissatis- lied grunt when the screw was talked of. The " \ ictory's" engine was, according to him, the bane of the voyage, and the best day's woi'k they did was when they hoisted her boiki's overboard ; but u' w he Ijrightened up. "Tiie right naifs been hit on the head this time, Master J^Jilward," he said, "and no mistake;" and followed down to dinner with an excellent appetite. It was an idle day on board, and the seamen had lime to rest after the toils of the stormy ilay and night they had passed, ^lany had turned into their hammocks, others sal on deck smoking or do/ing, and occasionally waking uj> to I, .1 1 1 1 '1 n||i 1 , S, IP 1 ( 1 1 '1 i 1 66 77;(' Vcyage of the CQ)ista}icc. make a joke oi* tell a sioiy. iV'ter was (|ull,e in his clement, of course. IFe was always wide awake, ami always ready to talk ; ami his age, and real skill as a seaman and ear- penter, .^ave him great weight among them; besides his dignity, as having passed four years in the Arctio seas. Eilward ol'ieii joined the group ol' his hearers. (Jn one oeeasion, as ho drew near, i*cter started up with the ery of "A whale!"' Kdward, looking out, saw nothing of i\\(i whale, hut only a column ol' water, aeeompanieil hy a rushing sound, proeeeding iiom the sea at a short distance from the ship. A'ery soon, however, the erown '<^'\! W.a head of a large whale appeared above tlie watei- to breathe, tlie breath proceeding IVom his l)h)w-]iole, Hying oil' like a small white cloud over the waier. Xol, h ng ai'l rrv. a ;'ds he reared his great head, but ap[iarenl ly sreing the sliij) with his (juiek eye, he in- stantly dive^l, and did not ap[)ear again for eight or ten mi- nutes, and then the spouting commeneed nnieh farther oil'. ''Did you I'ver, any on ye, sland upon a whaler" "J should think sae," replied liCU Fiddes, a veteran of the (irecnlaml (isheiw; "else boo could we cut 'em up after we brought \\\\ alangside r" " In eoui'se I Uiean a live whah-," said Peter, disdain- fully. No one could sny he had. '"Well, then, 1 have. I and one of our seamen were at worK m k the I luneh, g ettii vj: m our nets; we t II: een hsl UIll n ' and he says, 'Jlere's a whale playing about umler the launeli. i>e haULi'ed if she ainL hcelinu' her ovej'!' So out I got on the whale's back, and hehl up my hands, and called (ju(, ' Here I am on a whale !' '" "Well, what wuuld she carer she wouldna feel your TJie Ocean. s ready 11(1 car- ides Ill's G seas. -'U OHO cry of le, but ■!oini(]j 5 sliij). whale !cdii]')- 1 over Iiead, le fu- ll ini- r oir. [Ill of allcr lalii- at the out Hid .)ur .6; I weight no more tlian a fly," said Ben. "Did you ever sc(> a Avliale go down tail foremost ?" Peter never did. None of the men ever did. " Weel, then, I've seen it," said Ben. " Our ship, the * Jane o' Buness ' slie was, got amang the bergs. There was a huuder o' 'em near lis, and as we cam' rooud a corner there was a whale. "We'd had gude luck, and got a full cargo of oil, or we should ha' liad something for to say till lier ; as it was, we car'd naething aboot her: but she didiia l:en tliat, and she was so crooded in amang the ice, and sae feat'cd at oor ship, that doon she went, tail fore- most, spootiiig out a cloud oot of her blow-hole wi' a soond like a stormy wind. That was a game. AVe had a gude laugh at it." "I've seen a A\hale stand u[)right upon his tail, and rear up his heed iifly feet i' the air, in his rage at the har- poon," said Adam Black, the unite. " And I've seen one lash the water wi' his, till it was foaming like a seething caldron," said Ben again. "And r\e .seen one send a boat iind all it'ti crew up i' the ail' wi' hi;-:," said Atlam. Peter felt as 'fall llie>e tremendous slories would (juite eclijise liini, so he broke in with one about Ca[)taiu UoHS.. " We got among the whalers in P)a (In Ts Bay after we got aboard of the 'Isabella,' and (*a]i)tain Humphreys sailed up and down among them like the Admiral. Whatever ship he came nigh he hailed, and 'I have to '([uaint Captain So- and-so that I've got Captain Boss and his men aboard o' me. [f you've got any salt pork,' he t^ays, * or any salt beef,' he sti}'s, 'to spare,, I shall be veiy glad to receive it,' he says, * and very glad to itdi'oduee you to Ca[)tain Boss.' ' "What! was he short o' provision ■; :" asked Adam. li .i»t % \> ' ;;^ 168 The Voyage of the Constance. ''TliiH wiis ilio idc'i of if, don't you see. Wlicii wo all jL^ot. uhojird, (ii.ptnlii lioss wanted us scparat(>d, sonic to bo ])ut aboard anoilier ship, don't you soo ; but Captain ITnni- ])]ir(>ys, be said ratlicr tliaii ]iart witli any of us lu/d ufo on sboi't allowanoo. So says C\Mpiain lioss, 'Now, Captain llnniplii'cys, 1 i^ivc^ these r.ien to your cliartico and disposab' *Proud I am,' lie says, 'to take cbar^e ol'sucli a sctof'nu'n. "Well, my lads,' says be, 'you as lik(> wcu'k may woi-k, and you jis like play luay play, ami wben 1 servo out Li'i'oi:^ to my ei'ow 1 servo out u'ro2' to you alb' Antl then, as ] said, lu^ sailed up and diAvn like tlu^ Admiral." There was a sileneo. No on(^ bad ;i story to niateb this. The .Kmoko curled up tranijuilly IVoju the ])ipcs. " Look at the so;d, blaster Kdward," said Peter in a little while. '" Dovi't you si^o his nose just above water? Down be i;-oes in a crack. There's anotlicr ! I soo a dozen at tlio verv least I" Some timi* was jVLssed lookini^ al'tei* the seals, and at anotlu I' whale that came in siL;-ht, but just as V)V\\ bad olcJired bis tbi'oat l')r another st(U'v, I'Mward beard bis iinmo shouted i'roju. the crow's nest. Jio was np in a minute, and there he (bund John. " Do you see that strano-c cold whiteness in tho sky, out tilt re t o the noi't h r" iisked Joliii. " Is it the ice-blink r" " Ves. 'J'hat pcf'uliar appearanct^ always tells you tho ice is iindei* it". A\ shall .^ee the ice itsell' to-moi-row."' " ^J'bat's lii^bt , Wo ^hall seem to n'ct near my lather in earnest then. You've not afi'aid I( will stop us?" "No, no! No chance ol that. AVe shall have notbiuir at this season to stop us till we L;'(!t to the middle [)ack of JJafliji's Day — the givat mus.s vi' ice that never melts. AVo 1 1 The Ocean, 169 I sliall liavc to choose wlictlier io force our wny tliroiiL'Ji it to •rut Into LaiicistLT Soiiiul, or rouiid it on its northei'u lace." "Force through it, \ vote." ** So do I, but we must take care we're not beset." '"Two tliitjo's pu/./lu me," said Allen, wlio had climbed one oC llie ladders, tempted by the beauty of the day, and was only a little below them. " 'f wo things puzzle me. Om^ is why there is o[)eii water to the north of the })ack, and aniither, why you leadei's of Arctic (.xpedilions to Lancastci' Sound don't sail by the coast of America instead of (Jrecnland, and so avoid crossing the pack altogether." ''As to the open water north of the pack, that is caused iu summer b}' the usual break-up of the ice n(>ar the shore, and its (b'ifling away southward iVom the northern coasts of JJallin's IJay ; but in other parts of these regions we have all been astonished at linding open water to the north, and n(Uie of us scarcely doubt the existence of an o])en Polar Sea. 'fliaf, however, has nothing to do witli our enemv the })ack licre. As ti) kce{)ing by the west shore of the bay, instead of the cast, it has been tried; but it is nu)re (lilhoult than crossing the [)ack itself. That coast is blocked by ice, even in sunnner." They stayed a good while together on the look-out, ajul did not come down till th(>y had seen the peak of the sngarloaf-sha])ed liill called Sukkertoppen rising above the other hills oi' (Ireenland. ^Meanwhile Adam JJlack and J\;ter, Ijoth good shots, had killed an immense nundjcr of the sheia'waters and kittiewakes that were wlieeling in. tlocks over the ship, and others of the men had canght some line cod and halibut with lines. 'J'hese fresh provi- sions wci-e very valuable, and would be served out next day, instead of salt meat. I!. 1 1 I. li! I « il ! ,1 . 1 i 5 f 170 Ti . , •>'^' oj tnc LoHstancc. ' ■ "■iik-nrcc.,, ,^,,1 '^"11 , lie was lusli,,,. r™"""' '•'■'' ".^'". nu,;, ,. : ,r - r'"*'- "■■■"' --h '"' ""• -i"3- .>. AU1,„ , ,, " "'■ ""- -'J H,en to look '••'^; ;'•'- --I>i.l.s 1 :lf"''''^ '''"'- ••'■•-luito unlike '" '''^•'- l^cniH Is, /;,st nsl,.,., , ^ ''""'S ^»'"'o ^^''t . stood o„t M,ek ,„,„•„ ' '""■<•■'■« '"»' )>.-.tUo,„,,a.s '7''''' '''•''•-■<!.,, ,w„e ;,^'= ":■'"'-"-, violent ^'-'-'-r .in,.ww ,::r^^:; '/ r '■■^•^ i The Do(rs and tbclr Musters, l-i ciilm and •-fc twelv'o vast l);ill '''i ^'•old, •^y \nnk. >Io to go il('2)fc for to look ', .111 d il uiiliko 'cks, Ol- 'Jj the iicJood, « Were • boJJs, ! ii\\OVi ciic'o. afc an It'Uts, nfno- O olcnt I an vciy dac- tto Lia- ind meats, IUIlmI tlio aii-, wliirlin^ and scrciunlnj:^ iu terror, and ilu'n took ilicir fli^'lit towai'ds the rocks. It "Nvas yomo time bel'oi'O tlie skip o'oti oat of tlio swell, kat the astonished sleepei's were ghid lo go back to bed, alter eon- gratahding eJieh other thai it Mas " all right," after all. ]']d\vard followed tkc e.\ainplo of the rest, and went down to his hammock. CUAJ^TIOR XVIII. 'llli: Ii(»(iS AXI) 'lilKlli MASTCUS. "\Viii:n he came on tleek again in the morning, the first thing that siruek Kdward's eyes was a brilliant white line passing swiftly to the sonthv.ard, and eonlrasting in a da/zlinLi' way wiih the green sea: il was the stream-ice. ^.riu; ice had broken np to (he northwanl, aiul Ihe earrent was jjearini'- it down. I'klward hail'_'d it with joy, as if lie had at last fuand a friend he had hiii^ed lor. ^riie next new sight was laiul on the left. They were in Davis' Sn-ait, and Amerie;i was \ isiblo on one side, AvhiU; they still ke|>t near Greenland. Ilaviiig examined the coast of America throngh liis glass, ho began to feast his eyes again on the iee, which continued to pass in one nnbrrdcen stream. This was not freshwater iee, like the bergs, but fragments of ihe great Hoes — the blue salt water, fr(;zen solid. Xoiie of the ])iece3 Were higher than thirty feel, but they were beautifully tratispareni, and of all manner of fantastic forms, llo took out of his ])oeket a letter that he was writing to Margaret, ami for the lirst lime since tho voyage began* ¥ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) Jo €!, S" C?x €^. V] <^ //, /. w ^M ^ >> '/ /A 1.0 I.I 1.25 |2B 111112.5 1^ 1^ 1^ PhotDgrapliic Sciences Corpomtion 2.2 20 1.8 U ill 1.6 \ ^ "% ^ V 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716)872-4503 ^ o^ .\. \ 'I' ' I IS 172 The Voyage of the Constance. made some sketclies suggested by tlicm ; but he had put away his pencil before ten minutes were over. When he had done, he found that he had got a knight on horseback, a cathedral window, a banyan-tree with roots descending from the branches, and delicate foliage, like magnified hoar-frost, a smooth, perpendicular cliff, and a dragon ; but he had no means of imitating its emerald scales, shoot- ing out rays of gold in the sun, or the knight's sapphire armour and snowy plume, or the diamonds and amethysts round the window. All he could do was to tell her t^at Alladin had made it. He knew he should be able to for- ward his letter from the Danish settlement of Godhavn, on the island of Disco, where they were to stop to take in coal, and every one was writing home to be in readiness. The weather continued fine ; the only interruption to the progress of the ship arose from the dense fogs that often came on, during which it was necessary to proceed with caution and frequent soundings, keeping all possible watch against bergs or floating ice. "When it was clear, much of Edward's time was spent in the crow's nest, whence he saw the grand mountain scenery of Greenland continually opening. Sometimes he saw magnificent cata- racts flowing into the sea, which would become avalanches in winter. Icebergs became more numerous, sometimes a hundred being in view at once. The stream-ice had ceased ; but out to the left, at the distance of about ten miles, was now the edge of the southernmost point of the great pack. He had become fiimiliar with seals, narwhale^, and whales, and with the hosfs of birds that filled the air, and wheeled over the summits of the cliffs— auks, terns or Greenland swallows, the pretty white snow-birds, the still more beau- tiful ivory gulls, petrels, kittiewakes, great clumsy burgo- hen ho 'ebacJc, The Dogs and their Masters. 173 nifistcrs, the vultures of the Arctic seas, eider ducks, and geese. The sheer waters did not fly so far from Caj^e J^^arewell. One day he was a dmiring an iceberg that looked like a bridge of one ^reat arch supporting a castle, when a huge dark form clambered up the bridge and approached the portal. " Peter !" he shouted, " is that a walrus out there to leeward, on the bridge ? Don't you see ? The arch, I mean, among the bergs ?" " Yes, that's a walrus, and no mistake !" shouted Peter back again ; " and there's his wife and his interesting family tfter him: they're going to bask in the sun up o' top o' the berg." Notwithstanding all the pictures and descriptions that he knew of these creatures, Edward was astonished at their size, ana weight, and strange uncouth movements, as they raised themselves towards the place they wanted to go to by the aid of their tusks. When they had reached the summit of the square tower of the castle, they appeared tlie very picture of indolent enjoyment: the old ones lay motionless, while the two young ones sported and gam- boled in their heavy way, sometimes sousing down head foremost into the sea, tlien scrambling up again. He saw several more on other bergs, but none that interested him so much as his first friends. He could see that they had abundant pasture- grounds, for the sea was so penectly clear that he could distinguish the sea-weeds on which they feed, that covered the bottom at ten fathoms deep. During the continuance of this fine weather they ap- proached the island of Disco. They had nearly reached the roth parallel of latitude, yet the air was warm ; the I I M M ■■■ , III I I '1'' ll' 5; % ^ 174 The Voyage of the Constance, thermometei' stood at 4S^ in tlie shade ; tlie men worked in light clothing, and scrnbbed the decks with bare feet ; and, except for the occasional ice, icebergs, and the animal life around, it would have been difficult to believe they were within the Arctic circle. They were nearing the island, and making preparations to get out a boat to go ashore, when John called to Edward to look out. " An Esquimaux in his knyack is coming out to us !" There was visible to the naked eye only a little dark line on the sea, but through the glass Edward distinctly saw him. He came on with astonishing speed, paddling with a double-bladed oar ; his face appeared round, plump, and cheerful, witli little eyes, higli cheek-bones, a small flat nose, and rather thick lips ; he had a dark skin — made darker, perhaps, by dirt — a quantity of matted, bushy black hair, and a round worsted cap. All that could be seen besides of him was covered with, a jacket made of seal- skin, and he was seated exactly as Peter had described, in a hole in the centre of his kayack, his legs being stretched under its cover or deck; and as his jacket — or jumper, as it is usually called — was tightly fastened down round the hole, you could hardly tell where kayack ended and man began. The whole was, as Allen said, like a marine centaur — a sort of merman. He was soon close to the ship, and immediately began turning somersets in the sea, which he did in the most dex- terous manner. He took a heavy stone in one hand, threw himself over on that side, disappeared — kayack aud all — under tlie water, and came up again as well as ever; then he skimmed up to the ship, crying, " Pilletay !" — which means " Give !" — and received pieces of fat pork as I* I lit 't; and, mal life ^y ^yQr(i nitions i^clvvard ing out 3 dark tiucily ddllno- small -made black seen seal- 3d, in :ched )T', as i the nian H'ine !gan Icx- md, iiid er : :*^ y; Tiir. I'MnsT I'lst^i'iM \t \. as S I! I: 'A t \i-il M i The Dogs and their Masters. 75 payment. Before long a fleet of ka^-acks Avas seen coming out, to the number of twenty or thirty, all very much like the first, and several of the men bogan the same kind of performance. As the ship continued its course, they gra- dually fell behind, and followed her to her anchorage under the island. Here a boat was manned ; John himself, with Edward and Allen, who were curious to visit the place, and six men, went ashore ; Peter was among them, as, in con- sequence of his long residence in Boothia, he was able to converse a little wnth the natives, tliouirh he found their dialect differed a good deal from that he had been acquainted with. Edward was charged w4th a package containing articles of barter, in case he could purchase skins or furs. Disco is a Danish fishing-station, and one Dane presides over the Esquimaux families. This governor, or superin- tendent, has a house near the beach, of but small size or comfort, but a palace in comparison with the huts of the Esquimaux. As the captain and his party landed, the whole settle- ment came to meet them, the men in front, the women be- hind them, with infants at their backs, the children next, and a colony of dogs remained howling in the background. All were dressed in skins, and women, as well as men, wore loose trousers, with long seal-skin boots that drew up over the knees. Some had reindeer fur, and some the fur of the white or grey fox ; and, except that the women wore their hair drawn into a knot at the top of the head, in Chinese fashion, there was little in their dress to distinguish them from the men. They all made a great noise, clamouring, shouting, and gesticulating. As John was anxious to lose as little time as possible, he divided his party into two, taking Allen and three of !*f) l1 ii {' i .) I! 176 77;/? Voyage of the Constance. the sailors with hiin to the superintendent's house, and sending Peter with Edward towards the huts ; for the sight of the dogs and some sledges drawn up near tliem had made Edward long to got among them, in hopes of buying some of til em. The beach was anything but inviting, strewed with seal- bluLbor and offal. On every hand you saw oil, skins soak- ing in water or hung up to dry, or fish, also hung up to dry ; and horrible smells met you at every step. When Peter, by signs, and such words as ho had at command, had made the Esquimaux understand that he and his officer wanted to buy dogs, the men crowded round, and. with much loud talking led tbem up to a height wliere a summer tent, made of reindeer skins, was pitched on a rock over the sea. On the way they passed many of the winter huts, but they were chiefly deserted. A \qv^ old man at the door of one beckoned to Edward to come in, and he accordingly asked Peter to stop a moment for him, while he had a look inside. The old man stooped down, and groped his way along the na,rrow passage that made the entrance, Edward crawling after him, for it was only three feet high, but he very soon repented his curiosity, for the passage was wet, dirt}-, and offensive bej'ond description, and the odours that met him almost made him turn faint. However, he inwardly reproached himself for his effeminacy and crawled on. The old man pushed aside a thin skin, and then they both stood upright in a circular space of about eight feet in diameter, built of stone, with a few planks inside ; the outside, as Edward had observed, was coated with mud, and in winter would be covered, besides, with snow. A kind of dais, or bench, was raised against the wall, which served for table and bed j in the middle 'as f-K Xi^ -"^ J'- Juiu ' -itvMfr.'; Effi aaffij ra M MaT>!AuiJt ii T ouse, find the sight iliom Iijid of buying" with Roal- iiis soak- Ung up to e had nt at he and d round, wlierc a )n a rock e winter man at L and he m, while >wn, and lade the :ly tliree , for the Jriiotiou, ^n faint. ) mi Mac J n skin, pace of a [o\Y 3d, was )esides, igainst middle -w The Dngs and their Masters. 177 space, of al)0ut three feet, lay the body of a seal ; on one side was an old woman, dreadfully thin, with gray hair, red and bleared eyes, and a bistre skin, sewing skins by the light of a lamp fed with oil ; a hollow stone held the oil, and the wick was composed of dry moss. There was no ])assage for the escape of smoke, no light of day admitted. Harpoons, lances, rolls of skin, stood round; and besides ■(liat the seal nearly filled the small floor, it was impossible to find a spot that was not covered with grease and dirt, on which to set your foot. But what soon absorbed Edward's attention, and indeed prevented his seeing anything more after he once observed it, was a little dead baby lying on the side of the raised seat opposite to the old woman, with the mother beside it, weeping and lamenting. The poor young woman was very thinly clad, and had a baby in her arms. Edward could think of nothing he could do for any one there but to leave a present behind him, and as he had some trifles about him, he took a knife and two pairs of scissors out of his pocket and laid on the seat. The old man and woman brightened up, and seemed highly pleased, but the poor young mother never raised her head. When, however, he chanced to find a string of blue beads, and placed it round the baby's head, she looked up and smiled, thanking him energetically. He then hurried out again ar d joined Peter, and when he looked round at the fat, merry, careless faces of the Esquimaux that were crowdiufj about him, he w^as half consoled for the misery he had just seen. " They don't seem to mind it," he thought to him- self. But yet the misery tells upon them ; this people is wearin": out, accordinn: to all accounts. Their deserted settlements are found in many places, and they themselves say that they used to number more than they do now. 12 ; » I 'lit m I'! '^ f Vm i H 178 77; t' T'i7y<7^^ 9^ /A^ Constance, Having rcaclied the lioiglit, tlicy were invited into the tent. No one was there but an old man and four little children, except a litter of puppies witli their mother: the father and mother of the children entered with Edward and Peter, and the other people pressed forward at the opening, l)ut there was no possible room for more inside. The ob- ject of bringing- the visitors here seemed to be to ofl'er them the five puppies. At this Peter put on an air of the utmost disdain, and was hurrj-Ing away, when tlie man caught him by the arm, and after a great many words, which Peter pretended to understand, though in fact he made but little of them, be- gan to call loudly to his dogs. A troop of twenty Avere very soon round the tent, and nowbegan a noisy process of bargaining. Two othermen soon came up, followed by more dogs, till nearly sixty Avere col- lected; another next appeared with a sledge. The scene had become very exciting, and Edward was obliged to re- mind Peter how little time they had to spare, the Captain liaving resolved to be under weigh in two hours from the time they stopped. The agreement was to be made in money, for these Esquimaux are Danish subjects and used to buying and selling. At hist Edward saw to his joy ten dogs set ajoart, and then Peter began to look at the sledges ; another had been meanwhile brought, so he had to choose between them, and having fixed on one he began to drag it aside. But no sooner had he laid his hands on it than a woman threw her- self upon it, holding it tight with both hands, and scream- ing and howling with all her might, rivers of tears stream- ing from her eyes. Peter stood confounded. He fancied that this woman The Dogs and tlieir Masters. I into the )ur little ;her : tho •vard and opening, The oi). Tor tLeni ain, and blie arm, 3nded to lem, Le- ent, and len soon ere col- e scene d to re- Captain rom tlie r these ng and t ajoart, ler had a them, But no 3W" her- icream- itream- ivoman 1/9 I >i hud acrcod to his offer for her sled^fe, but now it was cer •o o'-> tain that he was mistaken. " I tell you I don't want your sledge," ho shouted iu her ear, forgetting she could not understand him. She shrieked and kicked more violently than before. Ho then said a multitude of words in tho Esquimaux language, which he meant to be a polite assurance that he would let her alone ; but they appeared to have been just the wrong thing, for they only produced louder shrieks. " Come away, Peter I" said Edward. " The best thing we can do is to move off. Pay them for the dogs and tlie other sledge, if they will sell it, and let us go." As he spoke he handed five sovereigns to Peter, who had told hini he thought that might be a fair price. Peter accordingly beckoned to the man, who evidently agreed to part with his sledge, and to the owners of the ten dogs, and held up the five sovereigns. But at tho sight of the money, hoots and exclamations of wrath began ; the women talked, the children cried, the dogs howled, and the clamour was so great that they were almost deafened. "It's a fair price," said Peter. " They're all mad to- gether, I believe." " They don't understand the money," said Edward. " That's where it is I suppose," said Peter ; " but what are we to do ?" " Let us go to the Governor's house, and try to make them follow us." Peter accordingly began running about among the crowd, shaking some, pushing others, pointing the way he wanted to go, and calling out " Hoskey House," which is their name for the Governor's, till at last they understood, and the whole troop of people and dogs moved off with ■i:;^ i!.l« i: : i I \ :n H 'J h ■ V '^ < l8o The Voyiig(' of the Constance. liim uftei' Kil\v;iril. Tho an'o-riovccl wonniu aloiio rcniuiiKHl s(N*it(Hl on licr beloved sIciIl^c. As tlicy n[)})i"0[Lclie(l the shore they saw three of tlie boutr; cm})h)yeil in carr^Mng eoals to tlio ship, and two Danisli boats lofuling" Avith oil, and ])resently John and Allen ap- peared with the Clovernor, and seemed much astonished at tlio crowd and noise. I'Jdward hurried on and explained the matter to lliem, to John's inlinitc amusement; and Allen, Avho spoke Danish a little and German well, soon made the Governor understand wliat was the matter, and found that, in fact, the poor Esquimaux did not understand the value of the sovereigns. This was no sooner explained to them, than the dogs and sledge were pat on Ijoard an oomiack, or woman's boat, with the most amusing bustle, and ten more dogs were offered, a fresh bargain made for them, imd happily concluded. These being also put on board the oomin.ck, the kite owners embarked with them, and would have started ofF for the ship instantly, had not John insisted that they should wait till cither he or Edward could receive them on board. But it required all the authority of the Gover. lOr to make them obey ; they wanted to gratify their curiosity, and perhaps to see what they could get ; though they might not have stolen anything, for the missionaries have worked a wonderful improvement on the morality of those tribes on the Greenland coast. Edward now brought forward his package, and the people were made to understand that he wanted to barter with them for skins. Some of them instantly ran off to their tents, others brought bundles out of their sledges, and at the sight of a heap of large clasp knives, and some nails, the ground was strewn with fox and reindeer skins, and the thick white fur of the Arctic hare. Very soon I'cmaiiKHl 'c of t]jo nDaiiisIi Allen np. I is lied at 'xijlaiiied nt ; and el], S(Joii ttcr, and derstand xplaincd )oard an g bustle, made ibr put on til them, had not Edward all the wanted lat they lything-, )vement 3ast. Liid the 3 barter I off to ^es, and d some f skins, ly soon The Dogs and their Masters. i8i IV'ler had gathered up the skins, and every nuin presoni W!is made ha})py by the possession of a knilb and some nails, and began shouting with laughter, jumping and leap- ing about. Many jumped straight up and down, and con- tlinu'd this exercise ibr ten minutes. Edward now ])Cckoued to tlie women, and gave to each as a free gift a pair of scissors, some pins, needles, and thread. The joy, go-ticu- hitions, laughtei', and even tears that followed, wei'o won- derful. Two ^vomen then came forward holding up a full suit of clothes, intended for some special occasion — peihaps for a bride — for they were made of Avhito and gray (bx-skin, arranged with some taste, and neatly sewn with tendons of reindeer. The boots wer.' also dyed yellow. Edward bought this Avith a fresh supply of knives, scissors, and thimbles, and besides • louglit out: as an oilering to tlie whole party some beads and bright handkerchiefs ; fresh acclamations following, and the two women beginning a sort of dance. Then he miide tlic children come Ibr ward, and gave every one some toy. Balls, hard and soft, whips and tops, which he hastilj'- set spiiming himself, little wooden dolls, and tin animals. It seemed as if he wo'-ild be deafened and pulled to pieces besides, in the frantic glee that followed, Avhen, observing liis cousin beckon to him from his boat, which was already in motion, he threw two footballs down, and kicked first one and then the other in the direction opposite to the boats. The boys soon caught tlie idea and set off after them, most of the girls and many of the men did the same, and began a game that Wi Ed- ward free to escape. He scampered off and jumped into the last boat amonor the oil-casks. The oomiack was already alongside, and there it still lay wdien the boat eamo up. Peter was seated among the dogs, and was gravely writing „„ i,Y,'M.JIIWI j^^ ('■■ \l '! 182 The Voyage of the Constance. something in his large pocket-book. John was calling out to him to make haste, and in one of his towering passions because of the delay. " What are you about, Peter?" said Edward. " Takin' down the dogs' names. We should be lost else. Here, you Ben ! chain up all the Newfound^.anders, Trident and all. Now then the rest of 'em, Nannook, Myouk, Disco, Una, Huske, Toodla, Whitey — that's all the twenty. Hoist 'em up. Lend a hand, Master Edward ! They'll most on 'em answer to their names, and them as don't we'll give 'em new ones. Ay, ay, Captain ! Ready in a crack we shall be. Now for the sledge !" " Ho ! yeo !" sung out the seamen, as ^'t was swung up on deck, Peter scrambling after it. Edward and the boat's crew were already on deck, and the boat hauled up. " It's no go. You can't come aboard," shouted Peter to the Esquimaux, who were clinging to the rope that still hung down. " Oh, I forgot, i^noj can't understand. I'll go on shakin' of my head." The rope was hauled in — the " Constance " began to move — they were off. The Esquimaux set up a howl, but the Captain was inexorable. Some time beyond his ap- pointed two hours had passed ; his last cargo of oil had been upset in an awkward manner by the Danish boatmen, and he had come away without it. It took him at least ten minutes to cool down, but then he had a good laugh over the bustle and noise with Edward, and was all right again. There was plenty to do, stowing away all they had bought, coals, oil, skins, and dogs. The last were Edward's charge. He and P'^ter had ihcir kennels ready long ago. He fed them plentifully with seals' flesh and fish, which Peter had provided, gave them abundance of water, and mg out to passions ^ he lost ^'anclcrs, l^annook, 's all the Edward ! them as ^eady in vung up le boat's ). 3d Peter Iiat still id. I'll 3gan to >wl, but Ins ap- oil bad )atmcn, 'ast ten ^h. over again, ij bad ward's ? ago. wbich r, and I i Hi 'I'lIK. I'lsi^l IM VI \ r 1111,11 KKN. 3B I ii tf! I ' ! ! (■ iif [I P'h i m III ■■I The Ice. 183 liegan to try to make acquciintauce with tlicm ; "but tliey appeared very wild and untamed, and looked scared at tlio i'arious barking of the Newfoundlanders, who were all in violent excitement. The Esquimaux very rarely caress or pat their dogs, and manage them solely by the whip ; so it would take him some time to make any impression on them. But it was necessary to reconcile Trident and all the New- foundlanders to the company of these intruders, and this task he set himself, and succeeded in a week or so pretty well. Ifl' CHAPTER XIX. THE ICE. A VERY unfjivourable chanofe of weather occurred on the following day. The wind got round to the north, blew hard, and brouofht floatinc* masses of ice down unon them, with a long swell, through which the ship laboured heavily. This wind was succeeded by a dense fog, that was even worse. Edward wandered about the deck with his hands in his pockets, feeling very wretched and impatient. At last he took a sudden resolution — went down to his cabin, which was quite dark in the fog, lighted his lamp, got out pen, ink, and paper, and sat down to begin a journal, from which we may make a short extract or two. Some day, as he thought to himself, it will amuse them at home, perhaps. And then he sat with his hands buried in his hair for several minutes. Then he began : — " August is coming fast upon us, and we are creeping alonnr in a foGf. I am of no use on deck or aloft. There are jilcnty of eyes there if only they could see an inch 'i ( !i^^: H' I 84 The Voyage cf the Comtance. before them, and if Ave run foul of a berg or a floe we must Lope wo sliall not be smashed. The best thing I can do is to drive away the present, if I can, by writing about Avhafc happened last week. To-day is the 20th, but I will write about what happened last Thursday. Here I go. It is the 21tli of July. I am sitting very comfortably on the main- topsail-3'ard, looking right down into the water, and what I see there makes me fancy I can hear jNIaggie's voice reading something out of Andersen's story of the ' Little Mermaid.' It was this, as far as I can remember : — " ' Now 3'ou must not imagine that there is nothing but sand below the water ; no, indeed, far from it ! Trees and plants of wondrous beauty grow there, wliose stems and leaves are so light that they are waved to and fro by the sliglitcst motion of the w^ater. Fishes, great and small, glide in and out among the branches, just as birds fly about amono- our trees.' Well, I am lookino; at all that as I sit here. The sea is as clear as crystal. Fourteen fathoms down I see a whole forest of sca-weecls at the bottom. Among them, fastened to the branches, and opening to the light, there are millions of sea anemones of every colour — av- ilnla Allen calls them. There are groups of shell-lish, chielly of the various kind of snail and whelk ;* but these common names give no idea of their gay colours and lovely shapes. There are jelly-fish floating everywhere, mcditscs (Allen says) and clio^, whole shoals of them, flashing colours in shady jilaces, dancing merrily along, looking like butterflies before they spread their wings, or opening their crimson discs to the sun in a lazy fit. Xow and then an exploring crab ventures up to the tree tops, bat soon sidles down again into the shade. We are sailing, or rather steaming, for we * Liinacinoc and entoinostraca. i The Ice. 85 wo must an do is ^ut; Avliafc in writo It is tlic le main- l wJiat I rcadino- 'nnaid.' 'in,^" but ees and >ms and by tlie siiiall, 7 about as I sit fithoms )ottom. to tlic ir — ac- cliicfly mmon lu'qics. says) shady JO fore SOS to crab igaiii )r we I owe most of our progress to the screw, along a broad channel, having on our right the mountains of Greenland, and on our left, about ten miles off, the ice. It will come nearer to us soon, and we shall have to grapple with it by and by. I wish we had begun." Another extract, dated the 5th of August, gives a dif- ferent picture of the sea : — *' We have got into another fog. I never write but in a foa", for if we can move I ?Jways find something else to do. But WO have had some fine weather, and ^'ot on well for the last week, till to-day. All this time we have had to make our way through water as green as grass, and quite thick. No more forests down below ; no more j^retty clios to bo seen. For all I know they may be there, but they are in- visible if they are — lost in a fog, like us. This greenness is caused, they say, by infinite myriads of minute creatures ot the medusa kind. Allen, my great authority in learned matters here, tells me tliat they can be distinguished by the microscope, and that they occupy nearly one-fourth of the Greenland seas. Of course, my word ' infinite ' is an ab- f^iu'dity; but really, if one thinks of the numbers there must be, one is lost. It is by tliis living Avater and the small creatures I saw before that the whale is nourished, llis throat is too small for a herring to go down. I ought to have remembered all this, for I must have read it, but it was new to nie. We are not above twenty miles from Upernavik now, if only we could move on. We are to stop there for an hour." The fog had cleared by the next day, and they w^ere only ten miles from Upernavik, in fine bright weather, when Edward, who was in the crow's nest looking at the coast, saw a dark object, which he could not make out, at the -k *' % iA ;i ;i B I'' I H 1 86 The Voyage of the Constance. foot of the cliffs. He studied it througli his glass, and dis- tinctly saw that it was a poor Esquimaux, who had ])ccn cast ashore, and was lying motionless on the sand. Ed- ward hurried down and told John, who looked out and saw the same. "Perhaps that poor fellow is not dead," said Edward. "I wish we could get ashore to see. It is wretched to lose a moment that wo can avoid ; but won't you send a boat ashore to see about him ?" John thought for a moment. " If there were life in the poor fellow," he said, " he would never lie there. Surely he could walk to Upernavik P" "He may be still alive," said Edward, "and only stu- pefied. I cannot help thinking I saw him move his head just now." " I will lower a boat, Edward, if you like to go ashore with two of the men, and wo will proceed on our course and get through the business at Upernavik. You may row on to us and catch us up by the time we are ready to sail again, and bring him, if he is alive. Take Peter for one, if you go." " The very thing !" said Edward. Orders were given. The ship lay-to for a minute. A boat was lowered, and Edward, Peter, and Magnus Trail, one of the seamen, swung tliemselvcs down into it. They were just pushing off when Allen appeared with a bottle of brandy, saying that if it was a case of a half-drowned man, he must come and help ; so he was seated next Edward, who prepared to steer, while the others took the oars. " I see you've got your bottle, doctor," said Peter ; "but I'll be bound to say I know what an Esquimaw likes best ; and so you'll sec when he gets hold o' this piece o' Sj and dis. had been and. Ed- Lt and saw Kdward. ed to lose lid a boat life in iho Surely only stn- tis head ?o ashoro Hirse and 7 row on 'j to sail or one, if lute. A LIS Trail, • They Jottle of 3d man, Edward, rs. Peter ; w likes )iece o' 4 t • I The Ice. 187 seal's flcsli. Here it is down in the bottom 0' the boat. I stole it out o' the dogs' rations, and you'll see liow he'll pitch into it — if he's got any life in him, that is." They rapidly neared the land and went ashore, wading through the breakers, having left the boat in N'orman's charge. They were soon by the Esquimaux. He lay as if dead in his kayack. The disaster had happened to him which sometimes happens to these poor people, and is almost the only danger they run on the sea. He had either struck on a sunken rock or a tongue of ice under water, and his kayack had broken in the middle. In this case a kayack becomes a hopeless wreck, and is drifted at tho mercy of the waves. How long he might have lain in this state no one could say, but to all appearance he was starved to death. Allen felt the pulse and shook his head; then, managing to crct his hand throucrh the thick coatin^- of skins, felt the heart, and instantly applied a little brandy to the lips ; then, unclosing them, poured some in, and told Peter and Edward to disengage the man from the kayack. He was stiff, and very cold ; but by vigorous rubbing, a few more small doses of brandy, and loosening his hood, which was fastened tightly under his chin, he began to revive and to stare at the people who were helping him. "He'll do yet," said Peter, oiForing him a small portion of seal. '' No ! he must be very bad still," he added, seeing that the poor man could not eat it. "A drauo'ht of water must be his next medicine," said Allen, producing a tin can, wliich he had had the fore- thought to bring out of the boat. Edward ran off to find the water, and had not far to go. A fine cascade came foaming over the rocks to the right, 111* .J J a Si i.' 1 88 The Voyage of the Constance. and there lie filled the can and returned with all speed. They put it to the poor fellow's lips; and he, at Ih'st swallowing' with difficulty, soon Avent on greedily, juid then accepted the temjoting morsel which Peter again oil'ercd. Allen now declared that he considered his patient safe, but that it was necessary he should lie quiet for, at any rate, half an hour, while he fed him now and tlien ; so Ed- Avard started oiF to explore, for the sight that had struck him when ho went for the water made him loni>' to see more of it. He found that the cascade flowed from a pfreat "'lacier, or sea of ice, that sloped from the high mountains which bordered the coast. The spot from which the water issued might be about a hundred feet from the level of the sea. Looking up, lie saw that curious sight that he had often read of — large patches of bright crimson snow, contrasting with the glittering whiteness that was predominant. The cause of this singular appearance is now known to be a red vegetable production growing abundantly in the snow. At his feet was an Arctic flower-n^arden and forest. The water had filtered through the soil, and wandered in little spark- lino' streams throuo'h moss of the richest OT-een. Among the moss he found some poppies in flower, some ranunculi, one bright blue gentian, some chickweed, and sorrel. These plants w^ere of the most minute size. He could have covered the whole garden with his jacket ; but each minia- ture flower was perfect both in shape and colour. Walking on towards the rocks, he found coarse grass and sedges jxrowiniT, and then some heaths and some birch-trees. These trees were also miniatures. One birch that he mea- sured was thirteen inches high, but it was the tallest. He mssi # all Kpced. \e, at first Icdllj, (uid The Ice. 189 iter again ^tieiit safe, for, at any n ; so Ed- ^ad struck Sec more ^t g'lacicr, ^ns wliicli ter issued ' the sea. liad often 'iitrastino- lit. The be a rod now. At he water te spark- Am on Of nunculf, ■ sorrel. ^Id have 1 minfa- V^alkino- sedges li-trees. te mea- t. He next got into a thicket of willows, reaching about up to his jinkle. Among tliese was a wild honeysuckle, so small, that the whole plant, root and branches, might have been stuck in his button-hole. He carefully pulled it up, and then dug up a few specimens of the birches and willows. Ho laid the wliole collection on a ledge of rock, and then, having made up his mind to spend the remaining twenty minutes he had to spare in climbing the rocks, to look into the auks' nests, lie began his ascent. He mounted to a considerable height, and was making his way in a hori- zontal direction to the place where he observed a multitude of nests, when ho suddenly found that everything was sliding down under his feet. Fragments of stone bounded over him, and at each side of him; the pole he had brought with him was carried away ; in vain he caught, first at one pi'ojccting point of rock, then at another ; everything gave way with him, and the current of broken rocks and sand was bearing him headlong into the sea. Feeling this, ho gave a desperate jump, managed to land on a large point of feldspar that was firm, and sat down to take breath. He had been nearly a quarter of an hour going up ; but his descent had not occupied half a minute, so he had time. He was still at a considerable height. The auks and gulls were screaming round, wheeling so close to him that they sometimes touched him. At the very top of the rock several grave burgomasters were seated, looking as if they despised the bustle and clamour below. Looking land- ward into a hollow behind his point of rock he saw a large frozen lake, on which two ravens were fighting for some garbage, and one small animal that he supposed was a fox. It was a strange wild scene. He could hardly take his eyes off it. ii; ' '1' *Jl 1 ;'«h!t!l iH 190 The Voyage of the Co?istance. '• Holloali ! ^Easter Edward ! Where Lave you got to ?" slioutcd Peter from below. " Hero ! I'll be with you directly," returned Edward, and taking a good aim so as to alight on firm ground, instead of dropping into the sea, he let himself go, and was down in an instant, amidst showers of stones and rubbish, just as Peter came round to the spot. Edward shook his clothes, and tried to look very composed, so that Peter might not liiid out where he had been, and lecture him ; but Peter's eye was too quick to be deceived. " You've been at some of your clambering now, Master Edward, I see that ; you'll just do it once too often some day. And I ought to have come with you, instead of feedin' that Esquimaw. He's eaten all the seal, every bit, and drank two more cans o' water that I fetched; and the doctor's ready, so it's time for you to come." Edward had only to run oif to the rock, where he had left his little forest-trees, and was up with Peter directly. The sick man was already on his feet, and Peter, taking him by the arm, helped him down to the boat, while Ed- ward made Allen hurry with him to take one glimpse of the green cove and crimson snow, and then they got off. The Esquimaux was laid in the bottom of the boat, and fell fast asleep directly. Allen had made out that the poor fellow's name was Olaf. He had been christened that name. He belonged to Proven, and was half way to Disco when his misfortune happened ; but how many days ago it was he had no idea. He was astonished to find that he had drifted to within ten miles of Upernavik, and he said he should like to go with the ship. He could speak enough of a sort of broken Danish to make himself understood. Peter strongly advised that he should be taken with -_lu- The Ice. IQI I got to?" 1 gi'ouud, ^ go, and ones and Edward > so that ^ lecture 1. ^ Master ten some offeedin' bit, and and the J lie had directly, •j taking' hile Ed- oipse of 3toff. )at, and lie poor tname. when it was he had aid he ugh of with tlioni. " Hotter not ask his leave," said Peter, winking one eye and handling lils oar vigorously all the time he talked. " He'll be better ofl' by a long way,wliether ho thinks so or no. What's he to do with no kayack nor nothing at IJpornavik, if we hind him ? and we v/ant a good driver for our dog-teams. I can drive, so can the Captain ; so he says, tiiat is. And Ben, he says he can. jMaster Edward cfui manage his Newfoundlanders, but hasn't had no expe- rii-nee o' the Esquimaw dogs. They're altogether a B difViient thing. The Captain oughtn't to have to drive much, for I defy any man to have his wits about him for anything else when lie's got them dogs to mind. They're a worrit, as keeps any man at his wits' ends, let alone the v>'hip — that's so long and heavy that your arm gets dead tired out in two hours." " We ought to have ten more dogs, too, if possible," s:iid Edward, " to make two teams of fifteen each ; and I hope we shall." " Yes, if the Captain takes mij advice, he'll buy ten nice where he's gone now. And I'm sure, Master Edward, you know so many's a great charge. This Esquimaw Olaf, if that's his queer name, would be a great help with that." " An' he'd make ye a pair o' whips or so," said Magnus, tlie other oarsman. " I mind ye said ye'd clean forgotten them at Disco." " In short," said Allen, " my patient seems to be too valuable to j^art Avith. He little knows as he lies there what desicfns we have on him." " I think there's no doubt about it," said Edward. " He'd better go on with us. and, according to you, he would like it. We can land him somewhere as we go home." •■ 1 . 'Hi ifj' ; i()l The Voyngc of the Comtance. This tlu)n<^lit, aiul ilio word "liomo," brnno-lit on ono of Edward's fits of inipaiicncc. IIo luado Peter tnko tli(» rudder in liaiul and irivo Idiii tlic oar. SteerinG: was not: half hard enough work. AVliencver Kdward was idli! oi' quiet, his restless anxiety about his father came on. lie was o'lad to sec, tliereforo, wlicn they neared Upcrnavik. that the boats were in the davits, and everything ready io start, '^rhey found, on gettiiij;' on board, that John luid bouo'ht ten nnu'c do^'s, even without Peter's advice. He had got a splendid show of white bearskins in exchange for tools, knives, iron hoop, and barrel staves, and had also purchased a rpiantity of fi'esli lish, meat, and butter, tlie two last of wliieli articles came from Shetland, and twenty dozen ducks' eggs fi-om tlie I'affin's, or Duck Islands, where the eider ducks breed in thousands. He had de- spatched the letters, and brought to Edward the kindest messages of sympathy and the warmest hopes for his success from the Danish governor and his lady, who well remcnd)ered the visit of the " Pole-Star" and her Captain, and had now heard of his disaster for the first time. CHAPTER XX. THE M.DDLE PACK. It see ned as if summer had been left behind at Upernavik. The t nperature fell to only one or two degrees above the freezii '-point. The sun now set about eleven at night and re e again at one ; and though twilight fdled up the interv J, and there was no darkness, yet the want of his ,111 liiij' -\iwsmmmmmmmm t on oim of .^^ ^vas not vas idli! ,),. on. Jfu Jpornavik-, •J^oJin jiad vice. JR. cxcIiaTif^-o '1 liad also mtter, tlio nd twcnl v ^ Islands, D liad do- le kindest « for Ills who Ave] I rCai)taiii, ne. •ernavik. )ove tlic at nio-lit up tlio it of Ids vavs niadu iL colder. The l•iu•^■in^• was often covered tldcklv willi lai'iro crystals of ice, which fell in showers on dock when a rope was handled, and the men were glad to wcjir wanner clodiin;^. Another extract from Edward's jonrnal will d(>scriI)o the aspect of thing's: — " We are no lonwr sailinij' ilironu'h a channel of water (en miles hroad, with the mass of ice at a distance, and an iKicasional icebcri^ or fleet of iceberg's iloatinL;- abont ns, and llie waves givin*^- us an occasional heave and toss as the wind sweeps over them. As we have *>'ot more to the iKirlli, the ?nass of ice — tlio great pack — has come closer and closer to ns, and wo are now steaming; ten knots an hour bv its mar<>'in thronn;!! a smooth channel that looks like a deep, calm river, the land being on our right hand, a'.id a broad field of ice stretching away as far as we can sec to the left. The sun shines out of a cloudless sky for twenty-two out of the twenty-four hours. The field of ice spai'kles, and its edges arc reflected iii the black water ; you can sec the pointed tongues of ice that stretch out below the surface. jMillions of birds actually darken its edges, feeding on the small shell-fish they find there. Now !nid then a seal pops np its head, stares round, and dives ti'jain, ]Iero and there an enormous iceberg, stranded on the pack, rises two or three liundred feet above its level. " The surface of the ice is not so monotonous as people fanc}^ : it rises into hnmmocks, which cast shadows; it melts into black pools, which sometimes are as large as small lakes ; it freezes, and the leads become bright silver rivers, glancing in the sun. " I have not srid half enough about the seals. I counted a hnndred at once, one day, on the fioes ; each had his hole. If you look through your glass, you may see 13 :!l ^,! I ?^ § B % i ' J:) I M! 194 The Voyage of the Constance, him at ease (but always witliin retreating distance of liis Lole), and in liis natural state a perfect picture of solitaiy enjoyment. lie rolls like a horse, wriggles in a queer wiy, which sailors call ' squirming ;' every now and then lie rubs his head in the snow ; now he looks just like a dop-, w^ith his head lifted as if listenini>' ; then like a j^rcat snail : then very like an Esquimaux crouching. " I saw one day two bearded seals, overgrown monsters, eight feet long. They are at a distance; I watch tlicni through my glass. Presently one dives ; the other lies rolling on the ice, not thinking an eye is upon him. What is that yellowish-white mass stealing round a hummock ? I have lost it. There it comes again, up to the top of W\\\i other hummock. It is a bear — my first bear ! There is no doubt about it, and a verv lar^i^e bear too ! He makes a dash at the poor old seal, but the seal is too quick for him : down goes the seal into his hole, and the bear after him. I watch to see how it ends : the bear clambers out again, and walks discomfited away towards the hummocks ; the seal has escaped. " We have had some splendid appearances in the sky lately. One I must describe, that I may not forget it. The sun w^as surrounded, at noon, by two circles of light, the first at a distance from him of 22\ the second of 40\ In each were set, at regular intervals, four mock suns, or par- helia, as they are called ; those in the inner circle were as bright as the sun himself, those in the outer were fainter ; the whole made a magnificent spectacle." If the captain and crew of the " Constance" had been out on a pleasure excursion, nothing could well have been much more agreeable than all this. But it was far otherwise. They had i-eaclied the hititudc of Lancaster Sound, and The Middle Pack. ancG of Ills of solitair ^ queer wiv, :i<-l then lie like a don- reat suafl ; n monsfers, ^atch them other lies fm. What iimock? I top of til at There is no B makes a 'k for him : after liim. out again, locks ; the in the sky Jtit. The light, the ' 40\ In IS, or par- were as 3 fainter ; i been out Den much therwise. md, and 195 could not enjoy their calm sailing through the channel, which was carrying them, too far north. Changes of wea- ther were to be expected continually. The middle of August was approaching ; it was now the 12tli, and the grand object was to get as fast as possible, and before tlie ice grew lirmer, across the pack, to the westward, unless, indeed, it should be resolved to hold on to the northward and round it ; but Lancaster Sound now lay nearly due west of them. If they sailed farther north to round the pack, they must lose valuable time ; and as the season was already late, they might get entangled in ice, let them go as far as they might. On the other hand, the breadth of the pack is eighty miles. The danger was that they might be beset tliero. Many consultations took place on the sub- ject. John took the advice not only of Maclood, but of all Ids most experienced seamen ; Edward listened with earn- est attention. Of course he was not old enough to give his opinion, but his heart always sank when the f .oi-o cautious way seemed to be advocated, and grew light when the attempt to force their way westward seemed to gain favour. At last the latter was resolved upon : the great advantage of having steam to assist gave the turning-point (0 the scale. The vessel's head was turned to the pack on the 13th ot August, when a favourable lead was discovered and followed. There was no leisure now. Having resolved to push Uirough, they did it in earnest. John was not a man to tret about such a task mildly. The steam was kept up ; the ship was brought ur to the ice, and sent dashing into the midst of it when it was possible to crash through it ; when it was not, all the possible means of progress were resorted to. They set the ice-saw to work ; they " heave" and 4r itt i I: 196 7hc Voyage of the Constance. " warp," and " track" and "liaul;" iliey do battle witli tlio ice unceasingly. Sometimes tliey make a prosperous ad- vance of twenty miles in tlie four-and-twenty hours ; some- times tlic}?- make about one mile in that time; sometimes they are beset and lie immovable, but this does not last lono". By fair means or foul, they escape somehow ; they blow up the ice with gunpowder ; they saw, they batter ; and once afloat again, the steam is up, and all the wa3's of o'ettin"- on that can be taken bec^in over ajrain. As lone; as they move, no matter how hard is the w^ork that gets them on, Edward is happy ; he works always among the foremost, and it takes all the authority that John's position as cap- tain gives to make him take sufficient sleep. When tluy are beset, then Edward is wretched. On these occasions he resorts to his journal again ; and another extract or two from it will explain some of the means of progress that have been mentioned. "' 2Qth August. — Worse than contrary winds, worse than fogs. AYe did creep then ; now Ave are beset and lie im- movable. The best way is to think over the time when we coidd move ; and as I hope, IMaggie, you will some time read this journal — unless, indeed, we stick here for ever in the ice — I shall describe some of our ways of moving, and then you will understand our terms better. TsTow, then, it is the 14th. That was a capital day's work, I recollect ; ice loosened all round : steam up ; John stands in front of the steersman ; Macleod is in the crow's nest. " ' D'ye see any opening ?' cries our captain, in a sten- torian voice, " ' Something like a lead a little to leeward of that ice- bei'g on our port bow.' " The light sails are got in; the ship's head is pointed TJie Middle Pack. 197 c witli t])o )erons ad- ii*s ; sornc- sometimcs s not last low 111 ^y Qj batter ; 10 wa^'s of As long- as 5 them on, foremoHt, on as cap. Vhen tJicy occasions let or two ^ress til at ^orse til an nd lie im- wlien we 3nie time 3r ever in f^ing-, and ■, then, it 'ccoliect ; I front of n a steii- that i co- pointed for the opening; the vatch are stationed at the braces. Silence prevails. " 'Hard a-starboard !' shouts Macleod. " The ready haul brings the ship's nose into a sudden ope;iing, and bangs her quarter against a great lump of ice. " 'Steady there!' " Not a sound for half a minute. Then comes a yell. " ' Down, down ! hard down !' And we scrape, and jam, and push, and are pushed, and somehow or other find our- selves in the dark narrow canal called a lead. *' On we go famously. "We make half-a-milc — we make a mile. We believe — at all events I believe — that this is the straight path that is to take us to the west at last. " Down come a succession of shouts. 'Helm a-starboard!' 'Port!' 'Easy!' 'So!' ' Steadie-ee-ee !' 'Hard a-port !' 'Hard, hard, hard !' (scrape — bang — thump !) and we arc jammed fast between two ice-fields. " But you are not to suppose we mean to stick there quietly. As soon as we have recovered our strength and temper, John begins his orders again. Two of the hands jump from the boats, eacli carrying an ice-anchor, and plant it in the ice, close to the crack along which we want to force our way. Peter jumps after them with his ice- chisel ; and I, as his apprentice, jump after him, and we make holes for both anchors to fix in. A hawser is then fixed to the smaller end of each, the slack of which is passed round the shaft of the patent winch — an apparatus of cogs and levers standing in the bows of the ship. All is ready for heaving. " The screw is set to work to help us ; the hawser Is hauled taut. ]^]verybody is at work — captain, doctor. , ) \ tl \'^\ i'. ; i. ,! ;■ li 5! I !i:!: 198 The Voyage of the Constance. master, carpenter, the mates, ' the boy ' — every one is taking a spell at the ' pump-handles.' The ice yields ; a lane is opened just as wide as the bows. We work with fresh energ}^ ; we jump off the boats, and shift the anchors ; we go at it for two hours ; and just as John tells us we've made two miles, some action of wave or current jams the ice close, and we are hopelessly beset. " We wipe our foreheads, and stare about us in provoca- tion. Cry of * Bear !' from somebody — Peter, I daresay ; — he is always wide awako. There he goes ! walking along the floes with the leisurely march of perfect freedom, about half-a-mile off', looking as unlike as possible to the caged monster of the Zoolofjical Gardens ofrovcllincr in his wet den. This bear, with his weighty legs and rounded back, reminded me of an elephant. He was about nine feet long ; his colour, a delicate yellow, contrasted against the snow ; his nose, an intense black. He seemed oppressed with a sense of his own dignity, which forbade him to move his august legs higher than was absolutely necessary. " Off sets a party in chase of him, I among the rest ; but I wouldn't have the dogs let off". I have no mind to en- danger their lives in useless hunts of bears. Our adventures were anything but honourable. Allen disappeared under the ice, rifle and all; but we hauled him up, and sent liim back to the ship to change his clothes. The water was at 30**, but his bath has done him no harm. We went on for a whole hour, getting repeated duckings and tumbles. 1 went in twice. The bear, meanwhile, never varied from his unconcerned walk, and was at last lost to view in a labvrinth of hummock-ice. " We get back, looking foolish enough, and Peter re- ceives me with a lecture. John also laughs at me. Upon 5iy one is yields ; a work wif h |e anchors ; fs ns we've jams the n provoca- aresay ;— ^^^g alono. om, abonf; the cao-od 1 Lis wet decl back, feetlono-. ho snow; cl with a move his I'cst ; but nd to en- ^venturcs 'd under sent Jjim ' was at ^ on for a bles. I 3d from -vv in a cter rc- Upon The Maale Pack. 199 the >vliole, I think I deserve it ; so I bear it philosophically. The only advantage of my absurdity is, that I am sf) tired that I can't help falling asleep, and so forget that we are beset. " I am awoke from a sound sleep by the cry of ' Get ready the lines!' I jump up and find it is ton o'clock at night, and I have been asleep since six. There is a com- plete change in the floes ; ro continuous lead, but the ice is broken, thin, and frail, and Ben is out upon it carrying a forty-poand hook, to which a long white whale-line is attached. Ben tumbles over the ice, ccttinir two or three duckings as he goes along, and plants his anchor in the firm side of a great berg, standing in the direction "-e want to go. The line passes inboard through a block, and witli a few clever turns around the capstan its slacker loose end is carried to a little windlass. Now comes the warping : steam up, and all hands walking round to a jolly chorus of sailors' songs, and we get over a few hundred yards in no time. " The floes are never at rest in this summer time ; sud- denly they open, and the ship is in a canal again. Our good screw can do the work for us now ; but for it we should be out on the floes, and tow the ship along like so many human horses. As it is, w^e make good way, and keep at it all night, for we have light enough even at twelve ()' clock ; and at three in the morning John drives me dow^n to bed. I hate to go because the lead keeps open, and we are getting on famously; but I am soon asleep and forget everything. I have not noticed what a day of enjoyment it has been for the dogs ; they have been out on the floes whenever wc were beset or only moving slowly, and they shall be whenever we can manage it. Olaf turns out well ; fi I ■i|i i!' 'ilji m i' |:l I ■; I ir I 5i 200 The Voyage of the Constance. Jie manages the Esquimaux dogs famously, and they begin to know me too ; but all I can do tliey won't look pleaseri at anything, and never wag their tails. Dogs that don't bark and don't wag tails seem very dull, and they do neither. They really never do wag their tails, bnt I shall not rest till 1 ma^.e them. But their delight, rolling on iho ice and among the snow, is quite refreshing ; and Trident and all his company make up in noise and bustle for tho quietness of the others." It was the 27th of August when, for the last time, i\\i\ " Constance " lay imprisoned in the pack ; she had nearly reached her harbour. Already the dark cliffs of Capo Osborne, the north-east point of Lancaster Sound, loomed at intervals through the drift. There were signs of open water at a fevr miles' distance. It was hard to be idle so near the end of the voyage ; but there was more than anxiety to get free in the facto of the captain and the master, as they stood together on deck, sometimes looking up at the heavy, leaden clouds that flew across the sky, sometimes scanning the horizon with their glasses. The wind roared across the floes. Ahead and between them and the open waters of th'^, Sound stood a threatening array of icebergs, against Avhich heavy ice-tables were reared up, ground to atoms, and carried off on the waves ; while others succeeded, to be dashed to pieces in their turn. There was something awful in the death-like stillness of the ship in the near presence of that wild tumult. The walrus were numerous, resting on the ice or floating in their holes and ploughing up the water with their tusks. These dusky monsters approach the land in storms. They came very near the ship, often within twenty feet of her. Every sail Avas close-reefed, everything on board was pre- 1 they begin ook i>Ien,.se,f that tlon'L lid they d.) ^ut I shall '^ing" on iho ind Trident stie for tliu fc time, the Iiad iiearlv « of Cane J. id, loomed ^'5 of open be idle so uore tliaii in and the 's lookiijo- o 5 tJie sky, ses. The een thorn reateniun- >Ies were 3 waves ; in tlieir ' stillness It. The ating- in c tusks. . They of lier. ras pre- The Middle Pack. 201 pared to stand any shock that might come ; every man stood ready to do his duty when the shock came. " Edward, keep close by me, and hold fast on a rope !" said John, in a suppressed voice. The words were hardly spoken and obeyed, when, with a sound only to be equalled by the loudest thunder, the ice broke up, and the ship drifted before the howling gale and at its mercy. She scraped along a lee of ice of great thick- ness, then scudded onward among the heaving masses. One of them, upturned by the waves, rose above the gun- wale, smashing in the bulwarks and depositing half a ton of ice upon the decks. The staunch little ship bore herself through the wild adventure as if she had a charmed life. But it was on the enemy in front that the eyes of hei captain were turned. Directly in front, just beyond the line of the Hoe-ice a^'ainst which she was slidino; and thumping, was the fleet of bergs. It was impossible to avoid them, the only question was, whether she would be dashed to pieces against them, or whether they might not offer some providential nook of refuge. But as the ship neared them it was found that they were at some distance from the iloe-edge, and separated from it by an interval of open water. Into this channel she was driven by the gale, when, from an eddy, she lost her headway. Almost at the same moment it became evident that the bergs were not at rest, that they were bearing down upon the Hoes, with a momentum of their own, and that it must be the fate of the " Constance " to be crushed between, them. John looked at Edward, who stood close to his side. Edward's face was pale as death ; his lips quivered, his eyes had an expression of anguish. " My father, my father, wo ■V i i ' 'I ■ ■A. i ■ li 1 I. i.i 1 ,1 hi 'I i 1 I., r ! i 202 The Voyage of the Constance. cannot save you now!" Tlieso words burst from liim as Jolin's look rested on him- A pang of agony passed tlirougli tlie young captain ; dreadful pictures of a lingering deatli and of broken lieart^; came before him. He looked upward and around, as if for lielp. Above and around tlie storm was raging, but bdiiml him he saw his men, firm, quiet, ready for action, ready for death. Just then a broad, low, watcrwaslied berg came driving up from the east. A sadden thought dashed through him, and as the mass neared, he gave the word, and Ben, who had the strength of a gi.ant, managed to plant an anchor in its side, and hold on to it by a whale line. The ship fell behind, and followed tlie mass of ice. The noble tow- horse towed her bravely on, the spray dashing over his windward flanks, and his forehead ploughing up the lesser ice, as if in scorn. Twice with a noise as of thunder did other bergs come down upon him with a shock that must have crushed the ship, and though it made liim tremble, and his harness strain and groan, twice did he conquer, and bear the ves.-<el on. But the bergs encroached upon him, though they were driven with less violence. The channel narrow^ed. The yards had to be braced, and the port-quarter boat would h^/e been crushed by the impending ice if Peter had not, with miraculous quickness, taken it from the davits. The " Constance" passed through, and got under the lee of a large berg, and into a comparatively open lead. Her crew now detached her fi'om the brave sea-horse, which had saved them from certain death. But scarcely had they time to breathe and congratulate each other, when a floe drove them fi'om their shelter, and Ill liim as y captain ; '^'eu Iiearts 1, as if for >nt ])C}]liii(| I'eadj for le ilrivfiip- >ugli hi 111, Bon, wlio anchor in ship fell )ble to^Y. over his the lesser mdcr did Iiat mnst tremble, juer, and ley were d. The Lt would had not, s. The lee of a er crev*' 'd saved "afculato or, and 'j^ Tw The Middle Pack. 2O3 the galo soon can-ied them beyond the lead. Again they were in tlie ice, sometimes escaping its onset by warping, sometimes obliged to rely on the strength and buoyancy of the snip to withstand its pressure, sometimes scudding wildly throngli the drift. On every occasion when men could possibly avert a danger by any effort, every man was ready, and many narrow escapes were made. The barricade stanchions were carried away, the boat that had been lowered for the warpings was left behind on the Hoes with three brave fellows in it, when a little pool of open water received the ship at last. The pool was just beyond a lofty cape that rose up like a wall, and under an iceberg that anchored itself between her and the gale. John did not stop an instant, even to congratulate him- self or his friends. He was out on the ber^' to look after his three men, first pushing back Edwards by main force, and ordering Peter to hold him, and not suffer him to fol- low. He took three of his best tried sailors, used to the Greenland fishery, with strong whale-lines and boarding- pikes. Holding on with difficulty, they succoeded in gaining the other side of the berg, threw out their lines, which the men caught, hauled in the boat, and landed the men on tlio ice, leaving the boat to the mercy of the waves. There was a hearty cheer when they all seven appeared on tho berg, and got on board again. The men would have gone to death for their young captain at that moment, and Edward rushed to him and seized Idni by both hands, but could not speak. OfEcers and men had worked alike through this terrible time, and all were pretty well worn out. John sent them to rest after Peter and his mate had fastened two good anchors in the berg, but he and Macleod kept watch alternately. The I, ■ J ; m V4 204 77/ 1' l^oyage of the Constance. gale was uubrokeii, and the lloc-ico pressed lieavily on the Blieltcring berg, so much so as to sway it from its vertical position, and at onetime to make its tuj) overhang the ship. But morning broke, and they still lay safe. With sunrise, however, the gale increased. About eiglit in the morning the precarious harbour Avas broken up, both the anchors gave wa}^, and the vessel was again among the ice. The men hurried on deck to help her to fight the battle again. Now began the nippings. The first shock took her on the port-quarter, but she bore it well, and rose by jerks on the ice. The next came from an enormous floe, irresistible by wood or iron, but the shoreward face of the iceberg that had sheltered her through the night presented an in- clined plane descending deep into the water, and up tliis she was driven, as if some great steam screw-power was forcing her into a dry dock. Immense blocks piled against her, range upon range, jn^essing themselves under her keel, as if they would carry her bodily up the face of the berg, when, by some mysterious relaxation in the ice, it lowered her gradually into the rubbish, and forced her out of the line of pressure towards the shore. She was made fast in a safe harbour, and the peril was over. Only those who have passed through such perils know- how to hold at its true value the steady courage of men in the midst of them. John never forgot the manly bearing of his companions in that fearful passage between life and death, nor the unflinching glance of Edward's eye when- ever it met his — at every moment except that one moment of despair. Edward scarcely knew what fear was. It was for his father that anguish had overcome him, and John understood him. They were no words of mere form, but i iV _, iiiiiis^,. irmnlM ^^ily oil tlio its vci-tical ^Jg the sli,-|j. ^bout cig-jit ^n up, both amoijc^^ tho o fight tlic ook lier on '^J jerks on uTesistible ic icebci'n- itcd an ill- iJ up tJiis )o\vxT was od against mder her ^e flice of ■u the ice, breed her She was r. nis know f men in ^ bearinn- L life and 'e when- moment It was id John rm, but An Experuncntal Trip. 205 lioartfelfc thanksgivings, tliat rose to heaven that morning ])o{ore tho exhausted crew went once more to rest, and Jolni was able to close his eyes with an easy mind. The gale began to abate towards evening, and fell com- nletclv before midnio-ht. On the morninn; of the 21Hh, there was a dead calm, but winter had begun ; young ice covered the sea; and no time was lost in o-ettiuG: under weigh again to settle in a more satisftictory harbour. Tho screw carried them on expeditiously, making nothing of the slight impediment that the thin crust of ice presented, and by six o'clock on the evening of the 20th August, the " Constance" dropped her anchor in a quiet cove in Croker Bay. She was safe in winter quarters. CHAPTER XXI. AN E X P E E I M E N T A L TRIP. Fko.m the anchorage in Croker Bay a journey of about a hundred miles would lead the intended sledge-party to tho shores of Jones' Sound, where they had every reason to believe the " Pole- Star" had been wrecked, and where they hoped to find her captain and crew. The plan arranged was to travel with three sledges. One drawn by the Newfoundland dogs, and two by teams of fifteen Esquimaux dogs in each. A fourth sledge, draw^n by six men, was intended to accompany the expedition on tlie first day's journe\% and after supporting the whole party on it^ provisions that day and the next morning, was to leave the rest of the food it had brought safely secured from bears— e/t caohe^ as it is termed — and return to the 2c6 The Voyage of the Constance, ship. A for(ni,L;"lit afterwards, if tlic expedition had iiof tlicn returned, the loaded rclief-slcdgo was to start ngain for the same spot, and advance, if need were, one day's journey fartlier, fbllowing a track to be marked for their guidance. The three doi^-sledgcs were to bo loaded with all that •was necessary for food and shelter for the party going tlio journey and for those they went to rescue, till they returned to the ship. Tlie party going consisted of Jolm himself, Edward, Peter, Olaf, 13cn Fiddcs, and Adam Black. The plan agreed on was to travel straight northward to tlie coast ; on arriving there to separate, two sledges taking the westerly route as the most likely to lead to success, and tlie other the easterly, having appointed beforehand a place of rendezvous. The ship was to be left in charge of Maclcod and Allen. The duty of those left in her would be to repair the damage she had suffered in the storm, to house over her deck for winter, to keep her dry and in perfect order, to get up the warming apparatus, and to have every cabin and sleeping- place ready for the returning party. No opportunity was to be lost of obtaining fresh provisions ; but as the birds were migrating southwards in large flocks day and night, and they did not as yet know if there were deer in the neighbourhood, success must remain uncertain. The days had consi-^erably shortened now. They were within three weeks of the equinox ; the thermometer had sunk to 10" below tlie freezing-point, and a heavy fall of snow had covered the young ice on the sea and the hills ashore with one uniform whiteness. While the ship was getting into safe anchorage Edward had employed every hour in helping the steward and Peter to 111 )CCl Lit wit woi niul Wi th j^n Experimental Trip. 2C7 to g^ct oiii (lie siorcK aiul pi-o visions for llic sledges. Eai'ly ill ilie nuu'iiiiig lie was at work again. The sledges Lad been brought up, lowered, and got ashore on to a fine broad terriice of ice that lined the beaeh, and was now covered with snow. Here they were to bo loaded; but before this work was l)egun Edward harnessed his Newfouniilandcrs, and at the same time made Olaf and Peter hai-ness tho Escjuinianx dogs, and all the three teams were tried. There was much confusion at lirst, but an liour's practice brou^dit them into some order, and was sufficient to prove that they would get on very well. As to Trident and Chloe, they were already perfectly trainee', and being harnessed as leaders, tho other four soon followed without crivinir trouble, and obeyed tlie voice. Tho Esquimaux d-^gs, on the contrary, had to bo managed solely by the whip. They dragged Avitli wonderful strength and speed when once well in hand, but at first it looked very hopeless. They are not harnessed as tho Newfonndlanders were, two abreast, but each pulls his ovv'u independent line of tough walrus-hide. They are apt, therefore, at times, to get into what looks like inextricable confusion. Sometimes a battle takes place between two of them ; others join, and nothing bat the unerring lash aimed at the offenders ^y the driver restores order. Olaf proved highly dexterous, and Peter, whose hatred at being undone made him exert himself to the utmost, succeeded tolerably. Satisfied that the dogs woukl do their part, Edward next employed himself in helping Olaf to give them abundance of food, and attend- ing to his own six — a task he never allowed any one to take from him, and then returned to the sledges to help to pack them. The sledges were to carry provisions for the six men of M ! ^' I,' J' ^ippp ill Ui 2c8 The Voyage of the Constance, tlic party for forty days, and for thirl y-ono more for fin ecu days. It boiii^ reckoned, that tlioiigh tlie search mi^'iit occupy tAvcnty-five days, yet the return to the ship, wlieu the rescue had been cfl'ected, could not take, at the utmost, above a fortnin-ht. The food consisted of pemmican, pre- served meat, biscuit o-round to powder, tea, coffee, sug\''r, and lime-juice. A small quantity of brandy and somo medicines were added by Allen. The fuel was oil ni.d spirits of wine. The cooking apparatus, fitted with a spii-it- lamp, was very simple, the most important part bcincr llu> apparatus for mcltinf^ snow and boiling* w\ater. All tlu; cups, tumblers, and spoons, were of horn ; the plates and dishes, tin ; knives and forks, and all other implements required, as light and as few as possible. Everv man had on a full suit of seal-skin over his usujil under-clothes, with Avaterproof boots of walrus-hide over soft fur boots, and woollen stockings ; a mask, with sm;ill slits before the eyes to protect from snow-blindness and frost-bite ; and fur mittens. A second suit of all thcso was carried on the sledges, and a complete suit for thirty- ono men more. Every man had a reindeer sleeping-bna;, and thirty-one were carried besides. A large number of bear and w^olf-skins w^cre added. They carried four tejits and a gutta-percha boat. A few useful tools were added by Peter. Every one liad a rifle, with sufficient powder and shot. The whole outfit was chosen with the desire to avoid weight while providing warmth and sufficient food. The sledo'es were about twelve feet long and sixtcini inches wide, curved up at each end, with a cord passini^' from end to end to give spring, and made of tough, well- seasoned wood, shod with iron,. and having cross-bars <'. battens. Light iron stanchions,, dropped into sockets \\\> the four corners, were intended to support sides of gutta- '0 for fiftoon arch mio'iit ship, when the utmost, inioan, pre- )ffee, siio'.'U', and somo 'as oil nnd ith a spirit- t beinp" tlio r. All tlic plates aiiil mplemciiis r his nsual -hide over -vith smaJl [Iness and all thcso for thirty- )ping-baq-, Tumber of bar tcjits ere added t powder desire to nit food, d sixteen passiiii,'' ig-li, well- s-bars ('. :jckcts ai of guttji- I j^n Experimental Trip. 209 percha, so as to form a boat or tray to enable the sledge to cross water. Fifteen Esquimaux dogs with such sledges r.re capable of dragging four hundred weight, atid of travelling five miles an hour. The sledge for the six New- foundlanders was loaded more lightly than the others, so as to allow them to go very fast, if for any reason it should be rerpiired. John w\as still engaged with Macleod, arranging the affairs of the ship, and settling everything before his de- parture, when Edward asked for a moment's conversation. It was the afternoon of the first day after coming to anchor. "Everything is in good train, John," he said; "but I see it will be impossible to have the sledges loaded, give the men a proper rest, and start before to-morrow morn- ing." " Exactly : that is what I intend." " They pack capitally, and don't want me any longer, now you have got the ship safe and have spared all the men to help. I want to get out the little sledge, the ' Little i\Iaggie,' as we call her, and take my Newfoundlanders along the ice-belt under the shore a mile or two, to look about me a little." " You had much better rest, my dear fellow. You have work"(l like a tio:er." " I can't rest. I should only toss about in my hammock. Vv.\ not half knocked up yet. We don't know how near my father may bo to us, John ! I hate to do anything you don't like. You and I were always fond of one another, you know ; but now we are brothers in life and death ! That dreadfVd moment, and your look, and what you saved us from, can never be forgotten by me !" Edward's lips (piivcrod again, and he could not speak. 1^ - !| '■^ f'i ^i: i ' I' 1 ' fi 1 1 ll ! i i ! 1 ' ( i 210 The Yoy.ige of the Constance, J olm grasped his Land. " Do what you like, Edwanl I would not thwart you for the world." " It is not only impatience that makes me want to f^o — at least, I think not. The coast is high and rock3^ A pass or opening must be found somewhere for the sledges. Peter thinks there is one beyond that headland a mile out to tlie westward. If I find it, I shall drive up the country a few miles and sec the aspect of things, and what sort of travelling we may expect." " Yes, this ought to be done before to-morrow, and you and Greely will do it cleverly. Of course you will take him?" " Good-bye, then, for the present, John. We will take cave to be back by nightfall." "Mind you do! There's no moon, and ■'■ - darkness will be complete." Edward went off next in search of Peter, whom lie found in the midst of the men, directing, scolding, aiul working — all with equal energy. Ho engaged to get out the Little MasfSi'ie in ten minutes, and was not behind his time. The dogs were harnessed, and they were off in ton mii:^utcs more, taking their rifles and a couple of good bear- skins. The drive along the icy terrace at the foot of the vH^^s was easy and pleasant. A deep ravine, winding tliroii^;:. the cliffs, opened at the distance of a mile ancl a-hiJl, rin 1 up it they turned. Above them the rocks rose to a grr i height, and in the bottom was the bed of a stream, now frozen. The passage up it was rough and difficult, and they were obliged to get out of the sledge and assist the dogs. After labouring on for a considerable time, they found that the whole of the upper end of the rav; o was filled with snow, the stream in the bottom beino: sinvi '• the ^&Ai ::% like, Edward. e want to j^o id rocky. A. ' f the sledges. \ d a mile out ) the country what sort of row, and you on will take We will take no darkness r, whom lie ioiding-, ar.d to get out : behind his 3 off in ten ^ ^le of good of the ];;". ng throi.igi, a-luJl^ a Lid to a o'lYut, tream, now ifficult, and assist tliG time, tliey rav; was sin?V' {lie i ■:-» j^n Experimental Trip. 211 melting of this snow in summer. It had issued from an enormous cavern of ice, which looked so strangely desolate, and yet so beautiful — all fringed with long icicles — that Edward was walking towards it to look in, but Peter would not let him. " It's as smooth as a mirror. Master Edward," he said ; "you can't keep your footing anywheres near it, and down you'd go into some deep hole, and be made into a icicle yourself Come along back again ! It's no use to stand here. The passage ain't no passage this way." They turned accordinglj-, and reached the icy shore again, but they had lost an hour in this fruitless journey. At all events, it was fortunate they had proved the ravine to be no passage. They resolved to go on further, and were rewarded by finding, at the distance of another mile and a-half, a broad opening, through which the distant country appeared stretching to the northward, all white with glit- tering snow. They turned into it, and proceeded easily and quickly^ for three or four miles ; then they halted to rest the dogs, and look about them before they began their way back. They were on a great plain, bounded to the north by a range of hills. Their journey might begin with ease and safety. Edward suddenly jumped from the sledge with a wild cry, and ran at full sliced to the left. Peter stared in as- tonishment, and then looked round : he could see nothing. " One would ha' thought," he said to himself, " there had been a bear at his heels ; and yet, too, he's not one to run away and leave me to light for it. Whatever lias he got in his head ? Why, wdiat's tliat ? Mercy upon us ! — it can never be that we've found the captain a'ready !" And Peter stopped talkmg, arid stood looking in amaze- nient at tlie tall fic-urc of a man in a cloak, who stood mo- i'll i- 'J ! • < Ms 212 The Voyage of the Constance. tioiilcss on a solitary rock, and sliowed dark against the clear sky on tlie horizon. " Mercy npon us ! — it never can be 1" he said again ; and ,as he said so, the figure extended his arms, as if to receive Edward, who was now very near. Peter put the dogs iii motion, and ran by their side after Edward. Suddenly the mysterious figure leaped from tl'.e rock, and disappeared. Edward was on the spot in half a minute. Peter was soon by his side. They looked around : no one was near — not even a footmark broke the uniform smooth whiteness of the snow. There was no other rock near — no place of hiding nor shelter. Edward climbed to the top of the rock, with the idea that -( "' chasm might be there capable of concealing a man. ^ ! — the top was smooth and flat, and the snow bore no marks exce})t the prints of two small claws of a bird. The truth flashed on him at once : he had been de- ceived by one of those strange tricks of refraction that arc so common in the Polar regions. What he had seen was a bird with wings outspread, ready for flight ; and he did ii: truth see, as he looked up, a solitary bird flying soutli- vrard. Some petrel or other bird of passage had stopped for a few minutes to rest here. Edward sat down by tlie rock without speaking. The sudden dashing down of a vague hope that he saw his fatlier before him had left him sick and giddy. Peter saw this, and tried by talking to raise his spirits. "It was a strange thing, too, Master Edward," he said, " that you should think a bird was a man." " Did you not see clearly the figure of a man, too ?" *'0h! — ah! — yes! But I cor Id ha' told you many a tale to prevent your making such a mistake, if you'd have asked me. One day, now, as Joe and I was out on a tramp, against the it never can ire extended V7 very jiear. J their sido leaped from Peter was was near— h whiteness no place of ith the idea )ncealino' a cl the snow claws of a d been de- on that arc d seen was md he did uig south. id stopped ing. The saw his Peter sa-^v " he said, too?" 1 many a >u'd have a tramp, j^n Experimental Trip. 213 we see at a distance two men coming on, one o' them with a rifle. * Who's there?' says I. 'I think it's Captain James and the doctor,' says he ; 'I'm sure it is, indeed.' Well, we walks on, and comes up to a middling-sized black stone with a patch of snow in the middle of it. People sai/ it's refraction. As to that, I don't make no remark. It's strange — that's all I can say; and in these here Arctic re- gions there's many unaccountable sights and sounds that we don't have in Christian countries. Any way, I'm not to be taken in by it now." "AVe had better get back," said Edward; "it's no use to go an}'- further." Peter said he would try to find some water for the aogs, and began turning the stones that lay at the base of the rock. He had not turned many when he found some that was bright and clear, of which they lapped as much as they liked. " Hulloah, Master Edward! where arc your eyes?" cried Peter, suddenly pointing his rifle. " A bear !" Edward looked out, and saw, indeed, a white monster coming on ; but it turned and fled rapidly before it came within range of their rifles. The dogs were in the greatest excitement, and it was all Peter could do to hold them and prevent their running away after it with the sledge. " I never saw a bear with a long sweeping tail like that," said Edward, as they saw it going away across the snow. When they got to the place where it had turned, it was evident, from the marks on the snow, that what they had seen was a white fox. " The wind's gettin' up," said Peter, trying not to look foolish, *' and I feel the snow-drift beginning very uncom- fortable. We had better be going home." ]>ut before they could take their scats a gust came 1 " ( I' : Ill- % i :■' I 214 The Voyage of the Constmjce. sweeping across the snowy plain, and drove tlie llglit snow in sucli tliick showers of drift into their faces that thoy Avero nearly blinded ; and wlien they tried to go on, they did not know which wny to take. Their footmarks were covered in a moment. " The only thing we can do is to get under the lee of this 'ere rock where the man stood on," said Peter. " Tlic sledge is half buried a'ready, and the dogs is shaking thcin- seives free, else they would be too." Edward followed Peter's advice: there was nothing else for it. They could hardly find the rock, near as it was to them, the drift had become so thick. Having found it, they seated tliemselves under its shelter, kept the dogs close to them, drew the sledge in front, spread the bear- skins over their heads, and in this way sat with tolerable comfort and felt no cold. But the wind r* >e, and the drift became nioi-e and more violent. A complete wall of snow began to form on each side of them, and the bear-skins became heavy with it. The sun was near setting, and under these circumstances it seemed dark already. Edward began to feel wretchedly impatient at his forced inaction, and to thnik how- vexatious it would be if they could not get back all night, and so delay the expedition. Haj^pily, Peter was occupied for some time in arranging the bear- skins and quieting the dogs ; but when he had succeeded he began with various provoking remarks, such as: — " You might ha' done better than come at all to-day. Master Edward. AYe should have been down on the shore by this time if you hadn't have run after that 'ere man." And so on. Edward had the greatest difficulty to restrain his temper, but only advised Peter to try to go to sleep, and not to talk, whatever he did, for there w\as quite enough to ^iS"Iit snow 's that tijcy S'o on, they ^marks were er the lee of etcr. "The ing them- ik lothing. eJso s it was to g found it, t the clogs tlie bear- Ii tolcraUe (^ the drift lil cf snow boar-skins ^^'^ng, and ■. Kdward inaction, could not Happilj, the bear- ucceedcd ?:- — 'I to-daj, bo shore ■c man." 'ain his -ep, and ough to An Experimental Irip. 215 l)ear without that. Peter accordingly remained quiet so long that Edward believed ho really did sleep, though after about half an hour, when he moved again, he posi- tively denied having closed his eyes, and then he began agam " They'll be putting ever^'-thing wrong, and at sixes and sevens on the loaded sledges, without me to see after 'em. I never thought we should ha' stayed above an hour, or I Lhould ha' tried to advise the captain not to let you come. Pretty mess we shall be in in the morning, keeping the sledges waiting, or else having them start without us ! Captain 'ull be in a sweet temper, and it ain't my opinion as he'll w^ait." When Peter, after irrumblin^- and scoldinc" for ten minutes, at last came to this, Edward lost all patience, and, starting up, stumbled over dogs, sledge, and every- thing, out into the wind and snow. It was perfectly dark — inky dark — without a ray of light ; the clouds hid the stars, and the cold was piercing, but the wind had gone down and the drift had ceased ; still it was impossible to move in such darkness as this : they must stay where they were till morning. " Well," thought Edward to himself, when he sav/ how impossible it was to return, "it's lucky we have the dogs and the bear- skins ! We must try to sleep, and why should we not here as well as anywhere else ? Then, when it begins to get light, we can go back to the ship. AVe can't be above five or six miles off. I'm horribly hungry, and so, I suppose, is Peter ; but, as the French say, * He that sleeps dines.' So we'll do our best, and get up fresh and strong in the morning. John may be vexed, but he is not easily made anxious about anything, and will hope it's all right somehow. So in I go again ; and if Peter w^ill but go to W U 2i6 The Voyage of the Constance. sloop, and not talk, that's all I caro for, Now, tlion, Tridont, my boy, lie on my feet, there's a good fellow, and koop tbem warm !" Edward was settling the bear-skins as be spoke, one of them having slipped down over the sledge a little and Icff, a crack open, A brilliant light that dazzled his eyes, as though bright day had suddenly sncceeded to night, niiido him start to his feet and out again. The whole snoNvy plain was clearly revealed io the horizon. He looked up in wonder : a luminous arch spanned the heavens a little below the zenith, each end seeming to rest upon the eartli, while palo lights rose from the horizon and streamed upwards towards it. He saw the splendid aurora boreahs for the first time, "It's wonderful! — it's splendid!" ho cried. "Peter, come out !" Peter was certainly asleep this time, for he did not answer till the third call. " What's up nov/ ?" was heard at last. " Come out, I tell you !" " There's no rest in that boy at all !" grumbled Peter to himself: " he don't know when he's snnc: and comfort- able," At these words Peter's head appeared above the rampart of the sledge. He looked up, said very quietly, '' The roarer!" then jumped on his feet, and shouted to the dogs : — " Get up, all on ye ! Come along, Trident ! Xow, then, Chloe ! Here, you Samson, leave off yawning ! Lend a hand, Master Edward, with the sledge : we haven't a moment to lose ! The roarer goes as fast as it ^omes." " You're right, Peter, to be sure ! What am I about'?" and Edward bestirred himself in a moment. They were seated in five minutes. P ^o^v, tlion, d follow, and ipoke, Olio of ifctlo and ]off, liis eyes, as "^S-Jit, niado liole snowy e looked up ens a Jlttlo n tJio earth, ^ strcaincd ora borealis " Peter, le did not ^led Peter 1 comfort- ibove the y quiotlj, 'Gd to the y^n Experimc7ital Trip. 217 " That's the way to go," said Peter, pointing in one direction. " How do yon know ? I'm sure I don't. Let me get out my pocket-compass." " No need o' that ! Those liglits are always in the south." " Ah, yes ! I remember; or nearly always. We'll trust in our luck this time. They're in the north to us at home, when they're seen, once in a way." "Pull away! Gallop! Hurrah!" Olf they went like the wind! After a mile had been got over so, Edward put his dogs into a steady trot, and kept on another mile at that pace. " A little bit to the right, Master Edward." " How GLDi you know, Peter P" " Don't you see that 'ere wdiite peak, like an old witch with a pointed cap ridin' on a broomstick ? That's just at the entrance of the pass atween the rocks as we came up." "You have a good eye, Peter — no one can deny that." "I think I have," said Peter, " and no mistake." " Especially for a bear!" " That's all very vvell, Master Edward, but I have my own opinion on those points. There are, as I said before, sights and sounds in these parts as never comes in Christian countries. After our carpenter die', now, in the ' Victory,* if you'd have heard the groans and moans all round tlio ship you'd believe me. We all heard them : it wasn't only me." As he spoke they turned into the rocky pass they had come up, and passed under the witch-like rock. Peter stopped talking. Perhaps he thought it was as well to avoid such topics just then. Presently they had to get out and walk, leading the dogs, for the path was difficult. The u i^'i ■ ^:v\ 2 1 8 77;t' Vcynge of the Constance . aurora sometimes grew pale, but never left them in tofal darkness ; after a few minutes it always slione out again, Avitli some beautiful change or other. The streams of llglit became tinted with yellow and red ; the arch broke up and formed circles and snake-like forms in rapid motion. Edward took every opportunity of watching it that the care of the dogs allowed. *' The roarer's at a new game now !" said Peter, as they turned out of the pass and reached the ice-belt on the shore at last. " It's a rocket, Peter," said Edward. " They're putting Tip rockets to guide us." Peter fired his rifle directly, as a signal they were coming. The shot Avas answered so instantly and near that they saw tlic flash. " If I was able to believe my eyes at all, now, I should say that was our captain on that rock under the cliff," said Peter. " Hulloah !" shouted a voice n,ear. " Hulloah ! Is that you, John r" shouted Edward back. *' Yes ! Glad you're come ! You got iuto the drift, I suppose ?" The last words were said as John took his seat in the sledge, and set Peter's mind at rest about getting a "blow- ing up," as he called it, which he was much too proud to like. They went swiftly on. The great headland at the eastern corner of the bay, and soon afterwards the light masts and spars of the " Constance" were visible. The sight was very welcome. Edward was telling John of the good pass they had discovered, and the promising aspect of the snow for their journey. " Here we are !" said he, in return. " Supper's ready prmSKBfSHPiHEjHSH Iiem in tohd oufc a,o-;iin^ 3anisof Ji'gJit Ji-oke up and V^d motion, it thut tlio eter, as thoy ^n the shore y'rc puttino- tlioy were tl near tliat vv, I sliould cliff," said "^arcl back, tlie drift, I seat in the : a " blow- > proud to ^e eastorn nasts and ;iglit was I 2food pass the snow ^•'8 ready The Sledge "Journey. ii(\ for yon both, and for the dogs. You aro all hungry eiioiigli, I dare say. Then a good sound sleep, and up at six to-morrow morning, to be ready for our start !" i.f; CHAPTER XXII. THE SLEDGE JOURNEY. It was seven o'clock on the morning of the 1st of Sep- tmnber, exactly lwo months from the day the " Constance" left Aberdeen harbour, that the sledge-party assembled on the ice-belt, only waiting the appearance of their captain. Tlie sledges were loaded, the dogs harnessed, the six men that were to draw the reserve-sledge " toggled to the warp," as they called it. The men were in good spirits, heart, and hope. They had had a long night's rest and a good breakfast, and the weather was fine — very cold ; but clotlied as they were, they did not mind that. The whole sliip's company had soon collected round them. There was hearty shaking of hands. There were many kind farewells, and wishes for a quick return and a happy one. Edward kept a little apart from the rest. He tried to avoid Allen's eye when the}'' pressed each other's hands, and said good-bye, lest he should break down, for now the hope that had supported him throughout must soon be realized or dashed dow^n for ever ! Within a period tliat must now be very near, he should be made supremely happy or miserable. He stood r. ear the sledge ho was to drive, close by Trident, wdio every now and then looked in his face, slowly wagging his tail, as if he wanted to say something that would be a comfort to hear. A loud cheer announced the captain's appearance. He passed into the midst of the men, and held up his hand for ,1 ' ^r t % % ;:i n 220 The Voyage of the Constance. silence, implored a, Llessing on tlic undorinklnnf, nnd tlien gave the order to move on. Those lie wfisto leave crowd*;. I ronnd him for one ^n'rasp of his hand l)eforc ho Avcnt '''Iumi they gave three cheei's. Their cheers were returned \\k..,. til\-, and tlie party Avas off. They went on for tliree hours at a steady pace, witli nothing to interrupt tlieir progress. Peter was not a lit lie gratified to hear the captain say to I'^dward that the expo- rimcntal trip of last night had done good service. Tlioy found that tlio dogs easily went five miles an hour, and that, with a short stoppage at the end of the first five miles, they had ncconiplished ion hj clcyen o'clock. Tlio drivers of the teams were, at first, Edward, Olaf, and Peter, l)nl; their places Avere taken by the captain, Adam, and Norman, for the lU'xt stage. 13en despised the idea of knocking up with any leno-th of walk that miirht be before him. Tiic party with the dog-sledges rested at eleven. They sat on the sledges and had some refreshment. In Tder to get water for themselves and the dogs, who wei "ill fed with seals' flesh, they had to light a spirit-lamp and melt snow, but that was easily done. They had brought food for the dogs sufficient for a day or two, but did not encumber them- selves with much, feeling sure that sufficient provision for them could be shot by the men ; and, indeed, on this first morning's march they saw several foxes and hares, thongh it was not worth while to shoot any of them, and to increase the burdens on the sledges. The men came up with their reserve-sledge before the halt was over, and found their luncheon prepared, and a hearty welcome. They were left behind again at the second start to rest longer, and promised that they should find bed and board waiting them in the tent when they reached it for the night. The same prosperous progress was made for "'A'-Ul The Sledge yourncy. 221 '",?, fint] flie;, cavo crowd,.. 1 wciif: ^"he„ b' pace, wi'tl, '■^ not ji lit lie fit fjllO cxoc- mco. Tlloy fi Iiour, and st five miles J The drivers d Peter, but nd Norman, ^nockilirr jip liim. The Tliey sat on ^(lei- to o-et "'H fed wf(:]i raolt snow, bod for tJio ■nber them- 'ovision for n this first 'OS, thonn-h to incrca.so before tlio 'ed, and ji ;he second d find bed reached it i made for .'mother fifteen miles, occupying with its two liiilts nearly live hours, and then John ordered the tent to be pitched for the night. They had reached the base of ii range of hills. If such progress as this could have been made every dny, the hundred miles to the coast would have been got over in live days. But it was not so. They had hitherto travelled over a wide plain auinirably adaj)ted to sledges ; already the iiills that rose in front of them slunved very different paths — full of difliculties. The weather had been very fine, but nearly to a certainty there would occur fogs, drifts, cr snow-storms, during which to move, even, would bo intpossible. But the party had no time or inclination to think of to-morrow's toils. Every man was occupied about the food and rest of to-day, and in good spirits and ready to set about preparing for it. A suiliciont space of snow was cleared away, the font pitched, bear-skins were laid on the ground, the cooking-iamps were brouglit out, snow was collected, melted, and boiled; a large kettle of good hot tea Avas prepared (and every Arctic traveller knows what a relreshment that is) ; Peter was dubbed cook ; the peni> miean was brought out and cut np ; the bread-powder divided into thirteen portions; the plates, the cups, all that could be wanted, spread ready. While all this was going on, Edward and Olaf were busy with the dogs, feeding them and supplying tiieni with water, and were pleased to see them stretch Ihemselvcs out and go to sleep. To sleep on the snow was delight to the Es(|uimaux dogs, but a little shelter was provided for the others. They had a skin to lie on, and a canvas thrown o.er cross-sticks to shield them from the wind. John had enough to do superintending every arrangement both for sleeping and supper, and the other three men were pitching the tent, unloading the Ii ' Ii : h i' J I ; I I i« 222 The Voyage of the Constance, sledges, and drawing them up in line by it. All were fully engaged, and the arrangements had not long been com- pleted when the other sledge camoin sight. The mencamo on steadily, singing as they stepped along, and choercM] when they saw the lamps in the tent shining out in tlio twilight. They were not allowed to put their hands to auv work. Their sledge was drawn up by the others, and tbcy were seated at once at the feast prepared for them, nn 1 feast it was to men w^ho had walked five -and- twenty miles, dragging a good heavy weight. " Prince Albert never had such a supper in his life," said one. " An invitation to "Windsor would be declined," s?;i(l another, putting down his empty cup after draining 11'.,} smoking hot tea to the last drop, and then turning round to attack his pemmican. " I don't care if I march five-and-twenty miles once p.- week all the rest o' my life, to see such a pleasant siglit at the end of it as this here tcnt^ with all o' you at tlie opening, and the lights behind ye, and the dogs all round. It was the prettiest sight I ever saw." So they went on, till, having finished supper, the jiip:--; were brought out. Then there was thorough enjo3'inerif> for an hour. Now and then one would, stop smoking to tell a good story, Peter figuring as usual on such occasion.-, ; but in general there was quietude and occasional dozijig. The tent was now cleared ; evorvthinn* that h;rd lu-ou used cleaned up for the morning's lircakfust ; the Limp, necessary to warmth, trimmed and prepai'ed fc/r hrrMiii'j* all night; the sleeping-bags l)rong-ht in ; the tent closi'd carefully ; boots and jackets taken oif, and then every man got into his bag and lay down, by Peter's careCul insiiin- tion, head to feet. As he went on placing them, Edward All were fully ng been com- Theincncamo 5 «^nd clioci-cl i"g out in (lie ' Imnds to juiv ers, and thcr or them, nncl twenty miles, ^ in Iifs llfc^'' ■olincd," 8aif] draining ij.p H'ning- roLiiifl 'liles on CO n- easant sip-ht ' Jon at the ;'s all rouiicl. 3r, the ])Jpo.s ' enjoyjiient Ksmokiiig to ^1 occasion-^,; d dozi;;'-- ^t liad Ix'on '-lie la nip, r,v l)nriti;,o- tent closed every jnau ul instnir- :>, Edward f The Sledge jfourney. 223 could not lielp remembering the evening when Peter was at Fernhill, and gave the illustration with the pen and pencil laid side by side, to show how people slept in tents ; and then the thought of home, of his mother, Maggie, and, above all, his father, rame before him, as though he saw them all. It was wc 1 for him that he was tired out and overcome with sleep, after so many hours' exposure to the cold air, or he would have been unable to drive these visions away. As it was, he was soon stretched by John's side, as sound asleep as all the rest. The morning broke with wind and drift, and much as they had longed to start, it was ten. o'clock before they could move. When the wind fell they prepared to set out, after taking leave of the party of six who had brought the reserve-sledge, and were now to return to the ship. The sledge was first unloaded of as much of its provisions as w^ould make up for what had been used for the parly, so that the fresh start was to be made with full sledges ; all the remainder of the food was carefully secured from the attacks of bears and foxes, and a tent-pole with a flag was planted to mark the place. All this done, the two parties separated and went their several ways. The day's journey through the hills proved as laborious as that of the day before was easy. Tlu'y only advanced five miles, and yet had much, more ^atigue to endure. Nothing, however, could exceed the courage and cheerful- ness of the men, nnr the docilitv and sasracity of the dorrs. 7 %f Oft/ i. J The sledges toiled up .. oep blocks of ice, dogs pulling up, and men hanging at v'leback, when the top was reached, to save them from pitching down the other side ; then a loud luutfh woidd be heard, and though the dogs and sledge were safe, the men were floundering in a snow-wreath, or stretched at full length on slippery ice. Sometimes tliey =111 : "1 E H ^. 224 The Voyage of the Constance. had to descend into deep ravines, and cross the snowy beds of moantain-torrents ; then to climb precipitous hills ami rocks, or make long rounds to avoid them. Edward ^vas delighted with his Newfoundlanders, who were new to sucli work, but yet did it admirably, and he and John took a fall share of all tire toils. Food and rest were very welcome that evening, and were the more agreeable as a level plain once more stretclied to the northward; and the hills began to take a westerly direction. Several bears had prowled about all da}-, and Ben and Adam went off with their rifles after one, while the others pitched the tent, but soon returned, having missed him. They had, however, shot some foxes and hares, the former of Avhich were devoted to the dogs, anu the latter, under Peter's skilful cookery, were soon steaming away over the lamp to make soup for to-morrow's breakfast. The night was clear and cold, with the new moon like a silver bow amone: the brilliant stars. The aurora also was occasionally visible, darting up in stveams from the southern horizon, and lighting up the whole of the expanse of snow before them. Edward lay down longing for morn- ing, and thinking how the dogs would trot across the plain. As he was ready first in the morning, after a good breakfast, he started with his Newfoundlanders, before ihc other sledges, and was half a mile in advance. Ho had been going down a gentle slope at a rapid pace, and was now on a flat and level surfice, wlien suddenly he heard a loud crack and the dogs stood still. At that instant the sh ,e bciran to sink throujidi ice, and he found he was on a frozen lake. He twrned his dogs, however, and succeeded in reaching the shore just as John had reached it, by going at the utnnjst speed. i e snowy beds ous hills un,] Edward ^vas ) new to sue] I n took a fall evening, and )vo stretclicd - a westerly all day, and r one, while led, having foxes and e dogs, ani )n steamir.n' s breakfast, loon like a ra also wa^ be southern expanse of f for morn- across the er a good before <hc He bad d was now Td a loud :he sh "^0 was on a succeeded by going The S ledge yourney. 225 It was necessar^^ to keep by the edge of this lake, instead of proceeding due north, but there w^as an easy and level track of ice close to its sbores, along which they ad- vanced with ease. Some rocky and difficult road had to be passed over towards the end of the day, but on the whole they found they had advanced fifteen miles. Nearly half the journey to the coast was now accomplished. The fourth was a trying day. A storm of wind and drift prevented their travelling more than one mile. Many times during the weary hours Edward had to remember his father's lessons of courage and trust, and, after all, suc- ceeded but ill. John did all he could to keep up the spirits of his men, by telling them his own adventures in the " Investicrator," and encourao-ino* them to tell some of their adventures ; and the whole party, men and dogs, had a good rest and many hours' sound sleep. Even Edward could not help confessing next morning that he felt stronger and better in consequence ; but his spirits were raised by the sight of a bright morning, or perhaps he would not have felt so. They were off by six o'clock, and after a mile or two of (juick progress, th ,' had to round the base of a hill that rose suddenly from tlie plain, and were stumbling over diflicult ground, when, on turning a ])<'int, first one and then another sledge came to a standstill. A number of human figures were passing along over the great frozen ])lain, their figures small and dark au linst the white snow. One idea shot through every brain at the same moment. These were the crew of the " Pole-Star "' journeying south- ward, Edward was on foot, and at the siglit ho darted forwards, thouodi his knees shook under him with nervous agitation, and with the thoughts, " Is he there ?" " Shall I find him amongst them r" when John, who had got his 15 :! , % m * f ! I ■■ii 1 ' ^ * ni ■a 226 T/;^ Voyage of the Constance. glass to Lis eye, cried out, " Stop, Edward ! It is only a party of Esquimaux !" Edward had learned to bear disappointment now. 1L.> only gave a heavy sigh. " It is important to go among them to ask questions, and hear if they have seen anything of my uncle and liis crew,'' said John to him. " Follow me with your team, Olaf. You must ask them everything I tell you, and nivo me their answers. Peter, drive after us slowly, and all keep your rifles ready, but bear any annoyance rather tluui quarrel. They will be friendly, I expect. Edward, mount the sledij'e beside me." Before very long they saw that the Esquimaux came to a halt among the rocks. They drove on. As they approached they saw more of them come out from behind tlie rocks, dottino: the snowv peaks with their dark figures. There might be about iivc- and-twenty men. They looked wild and uncouth, and were tcdl and generally strong, most of them carrying Lnices or weapons of some sort, and were all well clothed ill skins, having jumpeis of the white or grey fox, and booted trowsers of bear-skin, cndimr in the claws of the animals. They had a number of dogs with sledges, and had picketed the dogs by their seal-skin traces to their lances, which were stuck in the ground. A great commotion began, both among dogs and men, as John drove near. The men brandished their lances, hut did nothing really hostile. At a word frowi his captain, therefore, Olaf dismounted and Avalkcd quickly towards theni. Seeing him, the Es{|uimaux became still, and a tall man, who was ap[)arently the chief, advanced to meet him. For some minutes there was loud talking, accompanied aux came to The Sledge 'Journey. 227 by violent gesticulation. Then Olaf and tlic cliief seized each other by the hair. Any one that did nofc know their customs might have supposed this was the beginning of a pitched battle, but, on the contrary, it was a sign of good will. Thoy then rubbed noses, which completely cemented the friendship. John, now feeling quite at case as to the reception he might expect, dismounted also, and followed by Edward, went forward towards the chief, who met him half-way. The ceremony of pulling hair and rubbing noses had to bo go 1:0 through. For this John was prepared, and he sub- mitted to it with as good a grace as he could. Edward AYOuld certainly have objected strongly at any other time, but he would have borne much worse things now, Avhile he stood waiting in hopes to hear something of his fatlior. " Xow, Olaf, ask the chief what I tell you to ask," said Joh.n, " and give me his answers. Say to him. Have you seen white men before ?'* Olaf put the question, received an answer, and said "Yes." Edward's hopes rose. '• When did you see them ?" " Three moons ago." It was a lonn- time since then — about the time of the wreck. " How many wore there ?" The chief held up all the fingers of both hands twice, and then held them up again, omitting one. Twenty-nine ! Two were wanting to complete the number. Which two might it be ? Edward's heart sank again. " Where did you see them ?" "By the great water there" — he pointed to the ncrth-wcst. >l \ 1 N^ .I'-M. 41 m 228 The Voyage of the Constance. " What were they doing?" " They were travelling farther on there," and he pointed ao'ain to the north-west. " Did they speak to you, or want anything from vou ?" " They wanted food, and bought walrus and seal from us." "What did they give j-ou for them r" " All their dogs. They had lost their sledges and did not want them." " Did they say where they were going ?" " No." At a suggestion from Edward, John next asked, "Did they give anything besides their dogs r" " They gave a jumper of one that they said was not with them, and we gave bear-skins for them." " Where is that jumper ?" Tlierc was a great talking and noise now. Every or.o seemed to have something to say, and a few women appeared from behind the rocks with their children, and joined in the consultation. Olaf had to answer a great many questions. To pull hair and rub noses with several of the men, juul seemed as if he would never have ended his long speeches to them. At last he came to John and Edward, who were both in a fever of impatience, and explained to them that the jumper had been given to the chief's wife; and that she had given it to her father, who was dead ; and that she and the rest of the women were some miles oil" among the hills with the angekok, or prophet, burying him ; and that the men did not like to tell where the place was, till he had sworn that no harm should be done to tbo prophet or the women. id lie pointed y-tliing from s and seal [ges and did skcd, ''Did ^id was not Ever J one 3n appeared oined in the J questions. incn, and g" speeches who were J to thciii wife; and dead; and e miles oil' •jinghfni; place was, ne to thu The Sledge 'Journey. iic^ " T must see that jacket," said Edward to John ; '• I must see if it belonged to any of my father's crew !" "Say we must see them," said John, "and that we swear we will not do any harm nor hurt any one." Olaf had an;ain a long and noisy conference ; but they refused to let tlio Avomen be disturbed. " Let us try what some presents will do, John," said Edward. " We brought a parcel of knives and some other things with us." "Well thought of," said John, and ho directed Peter to bring this package. It was soon found and opened by Peter, and John first put a knife into the chief's hand, and tlien distributed several to the other men, giving also scissors, nails, and a few tools, till every one present had something in his hand. Great joy was shown. They laughed, jumj^ed, and shouted, and some of them ran to bring seals' flesh from their sledges, to give in exchange ; but John shook his head, and said, through Olaf, he wanted none. Still there was no movement to get tlie jacket for them. " Let us try the women, Edward," said John ; " wliat have we got for them r" Edward brouo-lit out some brin-ht red and blue hand- kerchiefs, and going forward, distributed them. The Avomen received these gifts with rapture, laughing, danc- ing, and crying, as they looked at them. AV^hile Edward was struggling to get out of the crowd that had collected, he felt some one pull him by the arm, and locking down, saw a little girl holding up one of those gay handkerchiefs which he had dropped by mistake, and which slie gave back to him. Pleased by her honesty, he tied it round liur throat, on which a renewed shout of delight sounded from the women. Suddenly he remembered Margaret's doll !!' *f m 230 The Voyage of the Constance. -svliicli, TiS it liappenecl, lie liad brought, and ho took it or.i ai:(l gave it to this little girl. She looked at it, and scrcnmcd with joy, while shouts of inextinguishable laugh- tcr resounded from all, both men and women. 13ut wlicn he took it out of her hand, and placed it in the handker- chief behind her head, with its face looking over her shoulder like an Esquimaux baby, the shouting and uproai* were deafening. " Try again, 01 af, to get that jumpier for us," saal Edward. " Ask this little girl's mother." Scarcely had Olaf said two words to her, when slio Avcnt to the chief and talked with him, and then Olaf was desired to say that the young nalegak, by which tlicy meant the 3'oung captain, Edward, might go vritli the chief in his sledge and sec the jumper ; but the rest must stop behind. John was averse to letting Edward go alone with this wild chief, he knew not where. But Edward would not hear (»f any objection. He took his seat in the chief's sledge immediately; but there was a little delaj^. The chief objected, through Olaf, to the young captain taking* what he lield in his hand ; the white men had those things, and they were fcarfid. It was his rifle. Edward cared for nothing but delay. He laid it down, only signing that the chief should also put away his lance, which he did. They then started. The chief, whipping up a fme team of twenty dogs, started off at the rate of seven miles an hour, along a wild j^ass among the hills. The}- had not travelled in this way above half an hour, when Edward saw in front a group of women collected ni one sjiot, Avhile, on the slope of the hill behind them, there were a number of children and some dogs. All set up a wild shriek as the sledge drew near. The chief seemed to f^ took it out •^t it, ana I>ufc wlicn Je Landkor- i^' over her and npi\)ai' 1^ ns," sa:,! > wlicn slio n OJaf was v'liicli tlicy til the cLfci ^ must stop e wftli tin's would not tlio clifers 2kij. The ^in taki]in' O 3SG tliino-s, ard cared rniiig' that did. fine team nillos ail ' an hour, lected III nn, tJierc sot up a denied to The Sledge journey. 231 order silenoc, for tlio noise stopped as lio dismounted and beckoned to Edwnrd to follow liim. They pressed through tlio crowd, and Edward saw as lie advanced that there was a man to whom the chief pointed and said, " Angekok," bending over a ghastly object in the midst of the women. There, seated on the snow, his hands resting on his knees, was the corpse of an aged Esquimaux man. The angekok, assisted, by the women, was building a ring of stones round him, which made a wall that now reached as high as his knees, and was intended entirely to cover him. At this sight Edward stopped, looking nearly as pale as the dead, man ; but it was not at the sight of tliat ghastly corpse that he had turned so pale, nor that he shook so that lie had to exert all his strength not to fall dov/n ; it was that the corpse was dressed in a jacket which, though tattered and soiled with dirt and grease, ho know in a moment, bv the buttons, had belono-ed to his father. He leaned on the circle of stones, grasped them tight, and tried to collect his senses. As he did so, a loud, dis- cordant howl rose from the women. It was their wail for the dead, and he answered it bv n. moan of anguish. Then again he tried to think. " They said this belonged to one that was not with them," he said to himself. '' This does not mean that he was dead ! Oh , no, my Father in heaven, it may not mean that he was dead !" He tried to be calm. He regretted bitterly that he could not speiik the Esquimaux language, but yet he felt that lie could probably learn no more. Then he pulled out some trifling presents, and showed them to the woman, whom he supposed to l.o the wife of the dead man, making signs that he wanted to exchange them for the jacket. A ! f. 1^ ■\h 232 The Voyage of the Constance, uu ' 1 \ 1 ■ \ t 1 ,. i Ill i ^ 4iu iiiki..... ii very iinccremonions undressing of the corpse immccllalely took place, and tlie ex-'liange was made. Edward laid tlio jacket on the sledge and got in with gestures of cntronf y to be driven back. The women pressed round, talkiii;^' fast to him, and laughing and pointing at him with derision, because he could not understand them, till the chief pushed them back ; and taking his seat, moved oil' at the same rapid pace as he had come. John was looking out anxiously', and so was Peter, when they reached the halting-place ; but the pleasure of seeinn- Edward safely back was damped by the misery depicted in his face. He showed them what he had brought back, and at his story Peter shook his head, but John would not allow that anything was proved by it. " You know," said he, " that your father landed safely, because he sent off the pigeon. The time that these people met his party was very little removed from the time of the wreck. Why should you torment yourself with fears that, after escaping from the wreck, he died ashore ? Rouse yourself, Edw\ard ! Let us ])ress on to the coast. Wo have still iiftv miles to co, but the weather is lavourablo to-day, and we may get over twenty of them before night, if we are lucky." Edward was cheered by John's manner, even more than by his words. They did not halt for the night till the twenty miles were accomplished ; and then Avere one and all so tired that they slept soundly, not excepting Edward. Again, however, a trial awaited him. A thick fog prevented above five miles of progress on the following day^. While they loitered, however, Adam had shot a bear, who intruded upon the encampment, and Olaf and Peter had skinned him, and deposited in the sledge, where there was most room, abundant supplies of his flesh for the dogs ; mrnotlialcly i-fl laid fliL> >f entreaty itl, ta]kin<> 1> tlerisiou, ef pushed the same II cter, wlieii of seeiijo' Y depicted iglit back, ^vould not ed safeJv, se jieoplo me of <]io ears tliat, ? Rouse :ist. We -vourable re night, iore than 3 twenty d all so ]. ick foq- Ho win 1^- a bear, I Peter •e there ) dogs ; i The Sledge 'Journey. : a rrood share to liims^clf, as li stcd. I Olaf appropriating a The next day, the seventh since t]io expedition started, broke fine and clear. Five-and-twenty miles only, as well as they could reckon, now lay between them and the coast, and John set forward with his party, determined to reach it before halting for the night. The first six or eight miles were accomplished easily ; but tlien a formidable impediment appeared in the way, A deep ravine lay stretched across the country from soutli- east to north-west, and at the bottom was a broad moun- tain torrent, which, though covered with ico at each side, yet flowed with such depth and violence in the middle, that, sheltered as it was from the winds, it was not yet frozen over. There was a consultation whether to attempt to cross it, or whether to travel up its banks and seek an easier part; and having- resolved on the latter, they travelled about a mile along the top of the ravine, but then, seeing no end to it, resolved to cross. It was a great labour. They liad to get out the gutta-percha boat ; to unload the sledges till they were light enough to bear floating, with their own sides fastened well up ; to carry the cargo they had un- loaded across in the boat ; and to transport the Esquimaux dogs in tlio same way. It was all that the strength of the Xewfoundlandors could do to stem the current and cross it by swimming. In this work two hours were lost, and before the sledges were reloaded the Avhole party were so tired as to require rest. Tliey halted for anotlier hour, therefore ; had food and water ; fed the dogs ; and then, thoroughly recruited, started again in good spirits. " We don't give up gettin' to the coast to-niglit yet, for all that's come and gone," said Ben. "Xot we," rei^licd Peter; "but, Master Edward, you I 1 1 ' '■ ' I'' \ \ 1 7 ' t ■ : ! ■< ( I : I I '' m I 234 T/jc Voy^ige of the Constance. must get up and drive now. You lind a tougli jol) witli i1-.e dogs crossin', and you'll knock up." John insisted on this .•irrungement, and they went on without further hindrances, rn])i(Uy, till the usual diuDor- hour had passed, and then declared tliey wouhl not halt yet, but push on ; Wx^"^ had got within five miles of tlieii* journey's end. " Gain that rock you sec riglit a head," said John, " \\\\\ then halt for the night. Greely must drive one of tlu» teams. He's oldest, and Edward's youngest. We must think of both." Slowly and wearily thoy toiled on, with the more diiU- culty as the ground was rapidly risin;^*. They rcach'.-l tlio rock — thev wound round its base to iret out of the winl. First one and then another, as ho came round, stopped suddenly, till all were in a line. They tried to cheer ; hut so worn out were they, that it was only Ben who luid strength to make a sound. The sun was setting in tlie nortli-west, in a s^ lent ul sk}'. The frozx'u waters of Jones' Strait lay at their t'cet at the distance of about three miles, illuminated bv hi.s rays, and stretched to the horizon. They had succeeded, in spite of all their ditUcultics. " Well done, my men !" said John. " Titch the tent ! XX. good supper and a good night's rest to us all !" He began as he spoke to look out through his glass, and so did Edward. The coast was ci'enerallv low. A little to the west, perhaps at the distance of three miles, it was bounded by hills whicii took an abrupt southerly direction, as if a creek or inlet occurred ther(\ On one oftliese hills there rose, standing black and distinct against the crimson vsky, a flagstaff, with a flag fluttering from its summit. John and Edward saw it at the same instant, and Peter's h^^) wKIui-.o 'OJ wont on lot Iinlf y^.i^ OS of (luv;. 0^111, "iUKl OHO of tliy "VVo must inoro (lifll- each';,! tlio tlie will;]. c1, stopped ^hoor; but • w]io JiaJ tllCM*!' t'cvt ed b\- Ill's ft' 'uccceLlcd, ilio tout! his g-Ias^, • Alirtlo -s, it was lirection, lose Iiills crimson suimiiit. 1 Peter's !!? T/je Sledge "Journey. 235 quick eyo liiid cang'lit it witliout a glass, lie Iiail pointed it out ill a moment to the othcr-j. A cheer did sound now, and a j^ood hearty one. Edward seized John by the arm, but could not speak at first. Then ho said, "We cannot halt hero in sight of that." " It won't do to lialt hero," echoed Bon. Tlie others did_ not speak. Even Peter was knocked up. The dogs, relieved from their traces, wcro already stretched on the snow with their ton^'ues hani;-in;^ out, John took ]']dward's hand. " We must not hope too much from what avc see, Ed- ward,' he said. " I have not a doubt that flagstaff marks the place of the 'Pole-Star's' winter-quarters. Nothing* more. n " Ah, yes ! I sec. After the w^'cck they had no flag, no means of erecting it. That is well secured by chains. Wc must wait till niornincr." Edward sat down on the snow, gazing out oagerl}' at the flags taff. ^Yhilc the others were preparing to rest for the night, ho, generally so ready to help, still sat looking forward towards the place where there might be traces to show wdiere his father was. " We Avon't Avait till morning," said Adam Elack, point- ing to the silent and sad figure of the boy. " ISTo more wo won't," said Ben. " If we could only get a lamp alight and melt some snow," said Peter, " so that all on us, dogs and men, could have a good drink, we could do it yet." AYhen Edward found that they meant to go on after all, he felt their sj-mpathy very deeply. John ordered out a lamp. A little wall of snow was built up to shield it from the wind, and a plentiful supply I •: M I ■I I'll ;" (!* 236 The Yoyage of the Constance. of water soon melted, A small portion of brandy and lime- juice was added for ever}'- man. A canister of the host preserved meat was broken up and divided amonj^ tlioiu. Tlie dogs were meanwhile lapping water greedily, luid eating tlieir portions of bears' flesli, and Olaf cliose, as Far more to bis taste, to share with them. He drank at least a gallon of water, and sat on a stone eating a long strip nf bear, which he had wound up in a ball, and then puitiii^- one end into his niouth, let it unwind down his throat. "Only just look at him!" said Peter to l^en. " Xoiio of us couldn't do that, for all we think ourselves wisest." Ben gave a grunt. He was half asleep, and had got his pipe in his mouth besides. " AVe shall have moonlight for an hour after the siiu Bets," said John. " Spread the benr-skins on the snow. Let six sleep, well covered, while one watches for a quarter of an hour. He shall then have his turn for another quarter. I take the first watch." " ]\[y pipe's not out," said Ben. " Lie down. Captain. That would be a proper game !" The weary sleepers heard and knew nothing till lien's voice called them — " Time's up !" " Lie down, Ben, and have your turn." " Look at the moon !" was his answer. " I don't want no turns." The moon was indeed declining, though still higli. ]>eii hnd watched the half-hour. They roused the dogs and harnessed them. Ldward's heart smote him as he woke up Trident; but the IItic fellow shook himself, and licked his master's hand, as if to say he forgave him. They went on, feeling stiif and a(;hing at first; but after the first lew hundred yards they got into a (piick, regular pace, and never stopped till they reached the foot of the ilagstall-hill. 237 b" ^^^(l I line, of tho ))est ^^f^ng thoni. Goaily, iind '^'ose, as fai- ink at least 'eii puttiii -• tliroat. n- ''Xojie i wisest" <-! liacl o-ot 9r tlio snn tliG snow. ^' a, quarter cr quarter. I, Captain. till Ben's on't Avant iglj. ]>en 1<',l;'s and lio Avoko rid Ii(d<ed icy Aveiit first lew •ace, and itafr-liill. CHAPTER XXIII. THE FLAGSTAFP AND THE CAVE. *' Halt here, my men I" Raid Jolm. " Pitch tho tent and i^a^t supper ready, while I walk up tho liiU. Edward, you Avill cfo witli ino, I know." The orders were ohcyed as quickly as tlio tired men were ?il)]e, and tho two cousins set off toLrether. The Aviiid i'reslicned as thov drew near tlio top of the heiLrht, blowinu' very cohl. Tho moon was near settinji', but the aurora occasionally tlircw up pale gleams of light, and llic stars were brilliant. They could see at their feet a narrow inlet of the sea, now entirely frozen, and occasionally could dis- tinguish tlie opposite sliorc of this inlet or creek. It was an udmira.blo harbour. At hmgth they stood under tho JlagstalT'. John lighted a small lamp he had l)rouglit, and they examined it closely. There was au inscription on it, wi iitcu on a tablet, nailed to th(^ Avood. EdAvard read it aloud, as folio avs :•-—- " Mar/ 28fh, 181-5. "The 'Pole-Star,' discovery ship, has lain at anchor in the harbour below since the (Uh of Sc}>tember, 18-14. All hands, Avith their cai)tain and. olllcers, are in good health. They have nnide extensive sledge-journeys to the ncn-th- Avest dnrini^^ last autumn and tho present spring, but liave lieai'd no tidings of Sir John Eranklin. The Esipiimaux Avho live on these shores during summer, and migrate southwai'd in Avin tor, hn.ve ncA'er seen a ship nor a Avhito ]nan before. Ice ol' extraordinnrv thickness lies to tho iiorth-wesi, enlirely blocking farther proi^'-ress of the ship in that direction. It is therefore my opinion, that though there is open Avatcr beyond, no ship can have passed into it ' ' 1 1} 'I ;| i; '.'! >»[ ;l 1^' 1 w^ F I 'i I [ < fl i'' ]'' i .1 I ' !■■ i' . ' 1 t I 238 77; t' T'ij^^'-j £/' the Constance, l)y tliis clianncl for mjiiiy years. I liave tlicrcforc resolved if I am permitted by ]Iim who orders all, to rctiirii lionio Avitliout further search, as soon as the ice breaks up ar.d T can get out of harbour. I leave this document as a recoivl of our stay here, and as a grateful memorial of our preser- vation in life and safety np to this time through maiiy dangers, humbly hoping that it will please Ilim to whom we owe all to restore us to our homes. "HeNKY AliMSTRO^Tl." AVho can describe Edward's feelings as he read this record, written little more than three months ago by his father's hand? ^^ ho was coming home, then! But for the calamity' tliat occurred, he would perhaps have been safely at home by this time !" "How far has he gone from this spot?" said John. ''If we only knew that !" '• The Es(piimaux said the party they met were going to the north-west. They pointed that way. What could ho the reason f(3r ffoiuLT farther?" " There must have been some reason. Perhaps to seek provisions. Did you observe by what that J^squimaux chief said tluit the white men had rifles? I was mucli relieved by that, though I did not like your giving up yours. AVe must go down now. The wind pierces one through." Slipper was read}^ when tlicy entered the tent, and their news was eagerly listened to. I'ldward had found it diilieult to cat, and now could not sleep for some time; but when at last sleep came, it was sound, so very tired w as he. After the lapse of a few hours he started up„with a consciousness tluit some unusual sound had awakened him. yvG resolved, ^•etni'ji lionio ^■^•■^ np and I as a reeoi'd ' our prcser- !■ ouorh many ni to whom ISTROXC." c read tliis n.q-o hy Lis L ! But for liave been said Jolii]. 'c going to t could be ps to seck 'squimanx •vas nuicli Tfiviiig u}) crces 0110 tent, and 1 found i(: :no time ; cry tired p^witli a iicd liiiu. 1 -.<:-'u'^-<^- ■ ,^_'f^:>; r"'"^," -~3? ■mra'tm^^ 1 !^"4^H i i .lilllN \\ I) I'.UW \U\< 1 IM> \ » ' MliN. it; 1 *i^ 'i t I ;i ^ i- i ! j It The Flagstaff and the Cave. 239 TliO liinip Avas [ilf;^-1it. lie looked jit his Avalcli. It was \\\n o'clock. lit; disencumbered liimself of liis sleepiiig- l);ii;', went to the opcDiiig of the tent and looked out. Ho n.nnd that a north wind was bhnviug harJ, and die aurora had hccome much more brilliant, but he could see nothin"" near to account for tlic riound, whatever it was. He closed tho tent because cf the extreme c*)ld, aud Trident, who hail been asleep at his feet, came to his side, and listened also with erect cars. There ! It came again. The sharp crack of a rifie- f-liot at some distance, but near enough to be distinctly heard ! He looked out again, but though the aurora was brighter than befVu-c, ho could sec no one near. Perhaps some one had gone out and been attacked by a bear. Kc counted tlie sleepers stretched on the ground, '^riiey were all there. The blood rushed to his face with the thougiit that the shot must have been iired by some of his father's parly. Esquimaux, even if any were near, have no lire-arms. He av.'oko John, and told him what he had heard, John agi'ccd with him that some of th.e lost parly ]nust bo near, ami advised him to iJ-o out and lire his riile immedi- ately, as a signr.l ; which he did, and listened attentively, but no signal in answer was returned. ''It is vain Wn' mo to attempt to rest, John," said he, returninij- to the tent. "It is almost as liuht as diiv. I "!uu:.t go out and fiiul whai it means. I should like to take i!:e little sKhI'^c, with Trident and Chloe in it, and drive in ihe dii'ection the shot came from." "T fpiilo understand what you feel. The men arc quite h nocked up. We were out very late, and I inust think o\' iheir power to go back as well as to go on. Uut you shall not go alone ; I will go with you." ■\ ii ; *i ( ti It i 1 '-• i I I ( 1 . li 1 I* ll ,' [•I 1) ] 1* I, r I! ^ 1 ii II It \ 1, ' :^ ■ I i f 1; h " 1' ' " «■* ijliyi^ 2^-0 T7,v T'5)'(7^t' of the Constance. " Tliat 3'on shall not, Captain," said Peter, sittino' np in his baj^. " Wo can't spare you, and if you knock nn -what's to become on ns all ? I shall go. I'm wonderful rested, for I've slept sound, and a man of my age does with less sleep than you youngsters ; that's a fact, don't you see." All this time Peter was i^'cttinc: out of his bao:, dressin ■• himself, and pulling on his boots. Then he set a pot of coffee to boil on the lamp, talking to himself all the time. " The coffee 'ull warm us. I shall go and get the litilo sledge untai'kled." Then aloud, " Go and harness four o' the dogs — if you think proper, that is — ]\Iaster Edward." Edward squeezed John's hand ; told him old Greolv was the best helper lie could have, and that more than two could not sit in the sledo-e without inconvenience. " Go to sleep agaiuj Jolm, if you can ;" and with the words ho was out harnessiug Trident, Chloe, Samson, and Lion, as tlic four strono-est of his doirs. "Here's the sledge, sir," said Peter, dragging it for- ward. " Put 'em to." Peter then went back to the tent, and returned in a few mimites with watrr for the dogs, and a cup of cotfee and some biscuit for Edward. "Drink it, sir," ho said; " never mind whether you can. I've had munc while tlio water was meltin' for the dogs." He next went in for a bottle of brandy, a canister of meat, a spirit-lamp, and three or four bear-skins. All tlicso he put in the sledge, saying half to liimself, "Who knows but what whoever's nigh nuiy bo half starvin'." They were off as soon as all was ready. Tlio wind blew fiercely in their faces, witli ocoasioii:il drift when they turned the side of the hill. They drove oii for half a mile. ', sittino' np j,^ ou knock up .'m woiidci'lVJ my ago d.ios a fiict, tloirt bag, dressin,^^ set a pot of ill the time, gcfc the litilo irncss fonr o' r Ed ward." old Grcc'lv ore tlian Lv.o ICO. <( r< Go to '■ords ho -was Lion, as tlic 'ging it for- :^turncd in a up of* coflco '," he said; 3 while tlio L canister oT ^. All tlicsM tVho knows ,' '> rpi 1 . J ncv ocea.sit>]i;d y drove ou The Flagstaff and the Cave, 241 " What's the matter with Trident, Peter ? Lot me act oat. He pulls, and won't obey my word." Trident Avas snuffing at the ground, and dragging at his traces towards the rough ice on the shore. "Whut's the matter w^ith ye? Go on, then,"' cried Peter. " I don't understand it. Tliere must be somethin"- in it. Let him have his way. Go on, Tri, my poor fellow, then," said Edward, patting his head. Trident, allowed to do as he liked, bofran to drair the sledge right towards the icy sea, and Edward made the others follow. He and Peter walked by the side, taking care of the sledge, which was often in danger from the roughness of the shore. Sometimes they passed over blocks of ice ten or twenty feet high, but generally Trident led them with w^ondcrful care through intricate winding ways, smelling and snuffing all the time. At last they got on comparatively smooth ice, and both took their sents in the sledge again. The wind roared round them, sometimes driving showers of sleet in their faces. Still Trident held on. They had fixed their eyes on something white and glittering in the distance, that sometimes appeared and sometimes went. The dogs stopped suddenly. A sound, louder than the wind, that had been heard for some minutes, had increased to a continuous roar. Edward was on his feefc and by Trident, who trembled all over and leaned heavily against him. The other dogs had lain down. That roar could be mistaken no longer. It w%as the dashing of waves. The ice to seaward was breaking up before the gale, and the breakers were foaming nearer and nearer everyinstant, their white points flashing like hungry flames in the li'>'ht from above. 16 » I 1 !|i n ^ 1 i I ■I I ! 1.1 i I 242 The Voyage of the Constance, With desperate efforts Peter unci Edward toc^ctlior turned the dogs. The ice had begun to crack all rouml them with loud explosions. "Get in!" screamed Peter. " Xot without 3'ou, and the ico will not bear us botii,'' said l.Vlward. Peter took him in his arms with a force he could not resist, seated him on the sledge, threw himself full longtli on the ice, seized one runner of the sledge, and joining in Edward's shouts to the dogs got them into rapid mofion. In a few minutes they were dragged into safety. Tlicy stopped only to let Peter get in, and not again till they luul renchcd the rough ice on the shore. Hero they drew up, exhausted and breathless. "You have saved my life, Peter," said Edward. It w\as seldom Peter had no words, but this time he had not for a minute or two, and then he only said, "Thank God ! thank (lod ! Master Edward." Tliey had got under the shelter of a great block of ico; and hiv there to rest for a little while, wrapped in hoar- skins. Trident bei^an to wander about with his nose to ll'.o cround anfain. " You may snuff as you like," said Peter. " I won't go on tlie sea-ice again for any o' your tantrums." But Trident was pulling quite in the opposite direction now. Edward unharnessed him, and asking Peter to wail by i\\Q sledge and the other dogs, took up his riile ami followed the way Trident led. Ho had not far to go. They slopped by a great mass of something lying (Ui iiie snow. Edward started and pointed his rifle. It was a large bear. I3ut it lay immovable. It was dead. Here, then, was the explanation of Trident's strange bchavi .lur. This bear had been on the ice. Trident laid ack all round ear us botii,"' lie could not f full k'li-tli O id joiiiino- in apid mofion. ViMy. TJicy till tliey luid ey drew up, ivai'd. 3 timclio li;i(] aid, "Thank block of ice ; pod in l)f';ii'- is nose to tlio " I won't 'JO >) ;ite direction ^cter to wait lis I'iilo anil : far to iro. lying (ui tlic 3. It was u ad. nt's sti-niLTO Trid(?nt liaJ The Flagitiiff and the Cave, 243 followed its track there, and ashore to the place where it was shot. That was all ! ]Jut shot ! By whom ? Yes ; that was the shot ho heard ; hut who fired it ? and whoever fired it, where was he gone ? Edward shouted to Peter, who came on with the sledrro, and advised that they should both lire, which they did, but there was no answer, except an echo which rang througli the rocks near. They then shouted as loud as thoy could, and the echo returned their voices, but no answering shout came. The dogs had got into an excitement about the bear, and could Avith dilTiculty be kept away from him — all but Trident, who had his nose on the ground again. " It must ha' been something besides the bear he smelt," said Peter, *' for tlie bear couldn't walk two ways at once ; and he's going quite a new way now. If only there wasn't such a wind we should see footmarks if any one had been nigh, but you see even the bear's is all gone with the drift." They walked on, following Trident. Suddenly he stop- [)cd, took something in his mouth, wagging his tail and making sounds that Edward knew as expressing his strong affection for any one he was fond of He dropped what he had seized at Edward's command. Edward took it up and held it in the light. The aurora was shooting up more brightly than ever. What he held was a fur glove, and it seemed to him that he recoo-nizcd it as one his mother bouglit. lie was staring eagerly at it when the aurora suddenly disappeared and totjd darkness succeeded. Clutching the relic in his hand while Trident leaped up with violent efforts to regain it, Edward cast his eyes up- wards in despair, and made an inward cry for Light ! light! IT I' d* I .1 ^t ii' 1, i \ M III I i M ■ 244 The Voyage of the Constance. But no light camo. Even the stars were obscured. He stood motionless. "We must get ourselves into our sledge as well as wc can," said I'eter, " and make the dogs lie on our Teui, and cover up well with bear-skins. There's no other way to keep from freezing." Edward obeyed. The dogs lay quietly down — all bnt Trident, who Avas so restless that Edward was obliged to give him the glove. He placed it between his paws, laid his nose on it, and became quite still. Now that Edward had time to think, his thoughts lialf maddened him. It seemed as if his father must have been here, for he could not doubt this was his glove by Tri- dent's excitement. And yet this might only be like tlio coat, some relic of him in possession of another. Tlieii, how was it that all signals were in vain — that no answer came, when some one who fired that shot must be near ? Perhaps his father was lying mangled and senseless some- where on the snow. Edwartl sprang up and had one foot out of the sledi^^e as the thought occurred. The darkness was still com])letc. '' What are you about. Master Edward P" said Pt'tcr. " I am going to get out Trident, to keep fast hold hy his harness and let him lead me. If my father is near he will find him." " That I will not consent to. We are near rocks, I saw that. You may fall down a precipice. The roarer may come back, and if it don't it can't be far off the dawuins: o' morning now." Edward yielded, but with an inward moan. After an interval he looked out, and, oh blessed sight ! saw a streak of red on the horizon, and very soon the first grey light 0!' dawn began to creep over the snowy plain. scurcd, lit well as we .)ur iei'l, and thcr way to wii — all hut a oLlii^^ed to is paws, laid lionghts liair st have hwu love by Tri- f be like tlic ther. Tlu'ii, no alls^vel' bt be near ? [iscless somo- 'f the slc'dire till com])lotc. said Pete I', fast hold by p is near lii^ rocks, I saw D roarer may the dawning n. After an saw a streak grey light o!' The Flagitaff and the Cave. 245 Peter looked out and agreed that they mij^ht move now, and that it would be best to leave Trident free. Trident o-avc up the glove to Edward, but continued to whine and jump^at the pocket tljat contained it for some minutes ; when suddenly he seemed to forget it, and to be absorbed again in smelling the ground. Tlu^y followed him. At last ho went up to a steep rock, aq-ainst which the snow had drifted to a considerable height, and there he stopped. They looked up and down and on every side, and could sec no sign of any one near, liufc Trident began to scratch up the snow, whining and giving short barks, and Chloe, seeing what he was doing, joined him. The two dogs dug and scratched violently, becoming more excited as they went on, and making the snow fly in a shower behind them. Edward, seeing that Trident must have some purpose in what he was doing, began to help with the butt end of his rifle, and Peter joined. They had soon dug a hollow in it. " Listen, ]\raster Edward 1" said Peter, holding his arm. Edward stopped. There were hollow sounds of blows upon the snow from the other side, Trident barked loudly, and dug with greater energy than ever. Edward struck dcs})erately. '' Be on your guard, jMaster Edward ! It will give way directly, and a bear may jump out !" Edward did not heed the words, but went on striking madly. It was growing lighter, and the snowy wall shook visihly ; the dogs had undermined it, and in another mo- ment it fell, disclosing the arched entrance of a cave, and the fimire of a man behind the crumbled snow. The face was pale and thin, and mutiled up in fur, but the eyes \?' ' I 246 The Voyage of the Constance, -vverc visible. Edward would liavo known \\\v\\\ ainoiv ten thousand. It was Ins fatlicr. ]']ilwar(l leai)t'd over the snow, and they were loeked in each other's arms in ;i moment. "^ly boy ! my Edward ! Oh, my Clod ! am I mad, ur IS it true i Edward heard the words, and elasped his faihc^r tl^'litci- and tighter. All the world was forgotten, only that heli:nl seen his father's face again and heard his voice. lie looked up and tried to see the face once more, but it was (juito dark. His father had slagu'ered back against llic wall of the cave. As he looked, all became light suddenlv ; he did not think how or why, only that his father's cvls were fixed on him. He tried to speak, but nothinij came but a cry. "Your mother! your molhrr ! tell me?" Edward thrust his hand into his jacket, and bi'oiiglit out a little packet which he always wore round his neck. It was a letter from her to his father. It fell at his feet. To get it out was the last effort ho was able to make. All strength forsook him at once. He sank first on his knees, then on his side, and lay stretched on the ground. Captain Armstrong kneeled beside him with a face el love and anxiety, and hastily unl'astcnctl his C(dhir, and got off his cap, feeling his hands and parting the long hair o[\ his forehead. Ti'ident had been leaping on him wiihoul his perceiving it, and now began to whine and to llrk Ed ward's hand. " Let him lay I" said a voice — Captain Armstrong did not know or even think whose it was — " He has had no rest day nor night for long, and has done the work of ten men this night, lie will do well if ho can sleep. M iR'm amoii.;' icjipcil over H Jirnis in a II I mad, 01" lilior tlL:;litei' • thai liuliatl voice. Ho , but it was agJiiiisi tliu it sudden iv ; father's cvis othiii'- came and brouirht id liis iit'ck. foil ai his was ahU> to k' sank first L'hcd on the 1 a fare of lar, and u'ut ()n«j^ hair <>1V lini without, and to Hck nstrontr did liad no rest of tun nieu f ' /'■•■If 'v'"'r ^;^f^ \ L ■."•""•% Ki.WMM. i.l>r..\il(s 11 1> Frill in. 'l I ' I I • .1 n ii 1 \ ! '■', i j t ,„ li iji,: i '4 1^ ; r 1 ' I ; ;: . 1 1 Wilt '-^^^ 1 i '■^ T Jwaking. 24.7 The two men watched for n. little while, and soon Peter had melted some snow over the lamp which he luid li^^hted, and brou^-lit water ; and wlien tliey had moistened Edward's lips ;uul batlied his forcliead, and at last mrale him swallow a little, tliey saw, to their relief, that thougli at first he lay in a sort of swoon, this state changed into a soft and sound sleep. CHAPTER XXIV. * ^1.' AWAKING . " FATriF.ii ! — my own fatlier ! Havo wo really found you r" were Edward's first words, wheii, on waking", lie saw who was sittiuL'" by him on a fraji'mcnt of rock, and found what hand it was he had clutched so tightly in his sleep. Siid- dc?ily he slu^ok down his bear-skin, iind started up, -lying, " Uut John ! We must o-o and tell John !" "Greely set out tlireo hours n;;"o to bring John licre," said Captain Armstrong. " 'JMiey will soon be back." " Why ! have I been long asleep ?" Edward asked, vvi»n(l(M'Ingly. "Only about nine hours. You fell asleep at f)uv this moruiuLr, and it Is one in the afternoon now. ]hit lie down afrain.nivbov ! vou are not linlf rested yet. You must not •o" y! y y move till you have hud something to cat." It was true, liio exertion of movinghad brought hack a dizziness", which seemed to depi-ive ICdward of all power fo think or feel beyond the one joy that his futlier w;i8 near hii 1. llo was soon takiug food, and drinking a bowl 1 1 m m f * ■ - H t. t; I \ il 4 il ■ I 'fi ^ 'it i " :l 1 i ' ■ i ' ) 248 The Voyage of the Constance. of hot coffee. It was so dcli^litrul lo !•< t'civc these from his father's Imnds, thnt lie c(Mikl not fiml strongtli to sny he was grieved to c;insc fatigue aiul trouhle, instead of snving it, as he wanted to do ; and when he at last saitl sometliing of the kind, his father replied in a tone of tlio greatest aifection : — " I love to help you, my hoy ! — my boy, who would have given his life for me ten limes over !" '■'Where are all your men, father?" said Edward, beginning to recover himself entirely ; " are tluy safe ?" " All safe and well when I left them four days ago ; l)ut thev are fortv miles oil'." The full hap[)iness was beginning to fdl Edward's heart: his face brightened up ; lie felt ])erfectly well ; but his fatlirr ke])t hold of his hand, and told him to lie still. '^ We can talk best so," .said he. Trident was lying by them, and seemed perfectly i.^^ppy by tlie side of the two people ho loved best in the world, and li'ied to sav so, if onlv he could. '• Pat him, father ! }{o found you for us." '' I know thjit : Peter told me." " Oh, father, I cannot tell you all Peter has done for us! I am sure; he did not tell you that.'' And lOdward ra[)idly told his father of the adventure on the ice. " 1 shudder when T think of your danger. His behaviour was gj'and indeed !" "'J'ell nu; what happened last night," saiil ]*idwai'd. ''Did you talk much? Did Peter tell you all about us?-' "When J had collected my senses enough lo find out that Peter was by me — for at lirst 1 only saw you — 1 was obliged to let him help me f(U' a time; and afterwards f •Jm J tlieso from nio-tli to say S instead of at last sai'I tone of tlio ' AYould have id Edwiii'd, " arc ihvy ys ngo ; l)nt ard's licnrt: it his fatlu'i- '' Wo can ectly ;..4)py tlio world, lone for us! ird rn[)idly s boliaviour il I'idward. all about o find out on — 1 was orwai'ds f Awaking. 249 mado liim lie down and sleep. lie wapj sinking with fatigue. This morning he has answered some of my ques- tions. He told mo about the "Constance" and your sleilge-journey ; but about ten o'clock I sent him olf in the sledge to bring John and his party." " What can they be doing ? I long for you to see John ! He's the best fellow in all the world, and I love him like twenty brothers. But, father, why were you hero alone?" " I was not alone ; I had a poor wounded man with me — one of my men ; he lies there now asleep in the inner |)ai't of the cave ; and I trust that now Greely and I have dressed his wounds, and ho has been refreshed with the food, and, above all, the water and tea he has taken, ho will recover. But for your coming he would have been dead now." " Poor fellow ! How was he hurt ?" " He was attacked by a bear. I had brought him with me IVom our hut, which is forty miles off", as I told you. y\y purpose was to post up at our wintcr-cjuarters a notice el' our locality there, before the weather became too severe to travel, that any rescue-party which might come next spring might lind us. I never dreamed of the possibility of a rescue now. I sent the pigeon as a forlorn hope, but it was scarcely a hope with me ; and besi 'os, it was so late in the season when 1 sent him, that before a ship could be ready or a party got up — even if he did arrive safely — it would be too late to reach us this autumn. So I reasoned, find naturally. J liad full confidence in your coming next yprin^. Often I Mave said to myself, '1 know he will come y ' ' ■ ifd fef-f too much to speak. *■ r/ut you w,tM. to know why I was in this cave. "What :t i; : I F S h ■ H i : 1 j 1 ■*' ■ (•■ 250 77; <; T'^j<7^t' of the Constance, I liad meant aviis to l;c': io our winter-quarters last \\\'^\\[. AVe liail a small clci)ot of provisions tlierc, landed in the course of tlie winter ; we were detained, however ; ourday'>; journey liail been lonj:^ and dillieult, and wo were ()l)llj_;-(.tl to rest ahout two miles oil*. The aurora enabled us to start id)oufc one in tlio nKn'ning', and pusli on for the wintcr- ((uartcrs, as we were exhausted Aviih hunger. On tlie way ■Nve diveri^ed on to the sea-ice, to try to shoot a seal, but lie escaped." " Did you lire, then r" " Xo ; we ne\ er L;'ot witliin u^nn-shot of him ; but Trident "was riu'ht in trackinir nio tliere." Edward had his arm round the line fellow, and was praising;' him ai^ain. " \{() turned oil' tlio ice, j^fot ashore, and almost instantly Tom i)olt — my ])0()r fellow that lies there — was seized by the bear. T (ired, and believed 1 had hilled the inonstcr : but while .[ was raising* poor Tom I heanl a gi'uwl, and saw my worlv had only bi.^en half done. 1 tired my seeonJ barrel, and iho Ixar fell dead." *' Yes ; you lireil two shots only, then?" "Onlvtwo. T fnind Tom was (tuitci unable t(» move: be could not stand. I bad no rescmrco but to carry liiiu ni liere ; and, weakened as I was with iatigue an.i hunger, it ■was all I could do, lor ho isasin)n.g, heavy man. To save us from l)ein,g fro/en to dealh, 1 was ohliged, as soon as I bad laid him down In the Tuost sheltered part of the cave. I0 build up the entrance with snow, for th;) wind was bowling in." *' That was wliy you heard nc^ne of our signals." "Yes; the snow makes an impenelfable harrier against sound. You see we have filled up the openinnj now with skins, and we hear the wind now and then. The nrstthin- Aw a kin 2. 251 s last iiiylit. nidcd ill file er ; oiii- dn^^'s wore ()bllt;-(,(] )il us to start tho ^vliiier- On tlic way I soul, but he ; but Ti'ldcMil o\v, and was lost iiistautlv vas seized by tho Miouster; a growl, and jd my secoiii.l bio to luovo: carr}' liini 111 <i luiiiL>-ei', ii ui. To save as soon jis I ol' ilie cave. Iio wind was iials. irricr aLi'niiist ig now with 'ho first tliiiii: that aroused mo fi'oin a sort of stupor into which I had fallen from cold, hunger, and fatigue, was the sound of Trident's bark. No wonder that when I saw your face I believed I was mad." A hundred (juestions and answers followed. They talked about home, about tho voyage, about the ship, and tlie hopes that opened bef )ro tlieiu, till anxiely about John, niul why ho did not come began to disturb them. Edward had idready got up, and was sitting by his father, who now told him that he would find a pool of water at the farthest end of the cave, where he could have the refreshment of a batli if he liked; and Edward gladly ran olf to take it. On the wny ho passed poor Tom, ^vh() lay asleep, and could easily see, by the comfortable pillow they liad made for him, and tho WMy tlie bear-skins were arranged about him, how carefully his fatlu.'r and Ecler had done their nursing. All ilio world seemed bri^'ht to Ivlward this moniiuLi', and so lie felt no fears abont anything. I'om would soon bo well — so lie btdleved — and ho proceeded to enjoy his bath. lie had to hurry on his clothes again, for he thought ho hoard a cheer, lie listened ; — yes, certainly, he heard a cheer! lie ran out, bright, well, and as strong as ever; ho met the fresh cohl air as ho got into the outer ])art of tiio cav(*, and lu; saw John bound over the snow at tho (Mitrance, and rush in with a faci' more joj^ous than even his face over looked bcf'ore, and seize his fath.cr by both hands, and heanl theii' luarty, airectionate greeting. In'hiiiil, thronu'h the ()]Hning, he saw the whoh' party, l*';tei' and all, tho loailed sledges, the dogs; — iliey wero all to'i.ct her now. .lohii jiiid i'ldward had been brothers in trial and danger; now they wero brothers in ha[)[)iness. How they shook each other by the hand, and congratulated each i )■. t •f .' I '! i .' 1 I I i ■ 'f m ■" ■ fl-' ^!*ir' I 1 '■ i! * f *■ ■ i, ■ i ' J-^ ''^ 8 ■I w s nH# i i *». 252 7he Voyage of the Constance. other! Then all tlio men came in to aeo " the Captain" they had so often talked abont and had come to save. There was nothing bnt rejoieini^ — only, at least, on(! sad thouG^ht, poor Tom IJolt ! They were all g'oinj^ to liim, but Captain. Armstroni^ only took one at a time, and would allow no noise near him. When tlKy had calmed down a little, and had time to sit quiet and think what had better be done, it was resolved to pitch the tent close to the cave, and under the shelter of tlio rocks, to rest during* the remainder of the day, luno a jolly supper and evening, and not think of moving till the morning. John and his party had already had soino fatigue. They had, it is true, slept till seven o'clock, before, one after another — Jolm iii-st of all — awoke with the anxions question, " Where are ]*]dward nnd Peter?" Parties of two hurried out in various directions, but none chanced to go the righ.t way ; and when Peter reached the tent they were all out but Adam, who was left to guard il. Adam went out, fancying he knew which direction the others had taken, but missed them; and wdien they came in he had to be waited for. At last they loaded theii- sledges and came on to the cave. Their supper nnd evening were iiuleed jolly. There was alnindance of laughter; and as they had left the cave (juiet, to be poor Tom's sick-room, avcU warmed with a lanq), and shut m with bear-skins, they had no scru|)lcs as to noise, and made a prodigious one. If any bear on hi.s road home happened to pass that way, he nmst have won- dered what was going on there. ]\Lany jokes Nvere passed at Captain Armstrong's fashionable apjiearance, and he, in return, told them they were a set of dandies. He was a stran"-e, sha'>-''-v, ronu'h ligure, his clothes being made of ditl'erent skins ; patched together with the utmost skill oi" he Captain" ne to save, ast, one sail ing to him, ?, and would lia.l time to svas reso1v(3(l V the slicltcr 10 day, liavo moviiio- till \y liad soino von o'clock, -awoko with 11 d Peter r" ns, but 110110 readied the to o'liard it. lircction the n tliey came loaded tlicii' oily. There left the cave •med -with a ) sci'uj)les iis ' bear on his t have woii- \vero passed ', and lie, in He was a ing' made of most skill ()[' Awaking. 253 his men, it is true, but still very wild and strange. John and Edward both saw that he looked thin and haggard, but they would not say anything to mar the happiness of the evening, and promised themselves he should look better soon. Peter did tell him he looked " wonderful bad," but no one took any notice. He led John and Edward aside before he setUcd for the night, to fix their plaus as to the journey back to the ship. "I long," he said, " to go to my brave fellows, and tell them we arc rescued. They have behaved with the greatest courage in every trial, and borne all, even with cheerl'ulness. j\[y plan is to go to them with Edward alone, and bring them on to you, John. It would be a waste of time and strength to take the whole party and loaded sledges." " But as to provisions ?" " We have abundance at present. The journey from this place is forty miles. I cai' point out to you a certain hill, at the distance of twenty, to which if you ^vill travel and encamp, Edward and I will bring all my party. Poor Tom must go with you on one of your sledges." It was finally agreed to do as Captain Armstrong pro- loosed. The lit'ilc sledge, with the six dogs, would take him and Edward rapidly over the forty miles. By starting early and resting in the middle of the day, half the jouiney could be accomplished in one day; the rest on the next. The only load they should have to cany would be tho small gutta-percha tent to encamp for the night, the suits ol" reindeer-fur cloihinii: for all his men, Avhich would be wry acceptable on their journey, and some tea, sugar, liuu'-juice, and biscuit, which would be luxuries, besides I I t: ',* t'M H' |:i D^ i > 1 ML 254 The Voyage of the Constance. sufllcicnt provision for tliomsclves and ilic dogs on tlic way. Joliri wiis to make for tlic appointed lull, and tlioro wait. One of his Klcdgcs could l)c emptied, as tbo otlier two ■would easily caiT^- ilic ]n'Ovisions that remained; and tlui wounded man could be laid, well defended from cold, on it, and drau'L^ed by the men. All this arranged, they settled for the night. CHAPTER XXV. T II E L I l T L J: M aggie. All were as!ir by four o'clock, and the little sledgo, with its handsome team, was packed and ready b^' five, lulwiml and his fathei" took their seats inunediatelv, auil were dll' jJl the I'arty they left watching them as long as they were i»' i'^ht. It was a fine morniiiL:' ;ind the sun was wvav its ri;>iip'- nmonnf Jj^ori/eous-coloured clouds. To their rio-jithiv the blue sea-ice ; to tlie left, as they drove along the tops nf the cliffs, stretched the snow-covered ])lain. To ]*]dwai(rs eyes, the whole desolate scene looked like Paradise, he w;i s sohap])y. Trident seenuHl to know perfectly well whom he Wii i drawing, and never went so splendidly before. Ca[)ta'ii Armstrong praised tlie sledge, the dogs, their training, aa'l the way in which J'Jdward nuinaged tlu;m — much to IM- ward's delight. It was such a new feeling to him to hi; li'dit at heart, to have n.o i-'allinir anxiety for ever weiLihinn' upon him, that he felt as if he must jump out of the sleilii'O and rush on faster than the dogs could g(j, and sometimes he did. n.£?s on 11 ic (1 tliorr wait. 3 other two (1; nnd tlio 1 cohl, on it, ve. Kdwanl ul wci'o (»ir, IS tliey -wci-o was iic;ir ifs licirr in-lit lav \<j; tlio tops iS [\) I'Mwai'd's idise, lio \v;i i loni lie v;;; s re. Ca[)ia!ii I'iiiuiiiL;', and inu'li lo I'M- :o liim io 1)0 •ei* wel^'liinn' )f (lie ,s1c(Il';o 1 sometiiiics The Little Maggie. 255 Ho had told Pcfccr before he started, what was true, that the only thing not quite right with him was, that they two who had up to this time always been together when any- thing liad to be done, should bo separated now. "Still, Master Edward, it's best, though," said Peter. " Three would be too many for the sledge ; and besides, I shall be none tlio worse for the rest. AVhen the Captain was wroi)[)in' mo up last night, and putiin' me to shop like a baby, I says to myself, ' You must be dead beat, (^Id fellow, or you'd never stand this !' We shall have an easy journey to the halting-place, and I shall be all right, don't you see, by the time you come up." "Yes, yes, Peter, that's all very well; but if you had thought you could help U3 in any way, you would never have thought whether you were tired or no ; but you think we have nothing but plain sailing before us now." " Well, I hope so. Master Edward. I think we've go into smooth water, leastways not such very rough ice. Ihit don't you bo runnin' into dangers now, nor gettin' frost-bites, through any o' them careless ways I've seen in you!" Edward laughed, and so they parted. Now, once more alone with his lather, he found that there were still endless things he wiinled to know. C:i[)- tain Armstrong had refused, from the lirst, to tell him about the wreck, bccau^^e he would not spoil their happiness with dreadful recollections ; but he willlniilv told him all that had happened during the tliree months that h;;d passed since. " We had saved nothing but about ton riiles, some am- munition, our dogs, and the pigeon," said he. "I brought ijauncy ashore inside my rough coat, after all my crew had left the wreck. But avo were not swallowed up in tliat boiling and surging abyss of ice and water, in which every 1 1 i f 1 '1 1 1 44 W i 1 ') .■^ l». I 1 1 . 1 ' i 1 • i i i . .J II ■ : I 256 T/?e Voyage of the Constance, fragment of tlio sliip soon disappeared. Our lives were paved. That was tho first feeling. Afterwards ejiiiio tlionglits dreadful enough. I went a little apart fVom tlnj rest; we had got under the shelter of some rocks out of tiio galo tliat still raged ; I sat alone and forced myself to think of what nmst be done to save those thirty lives con- lided to my care. The "whole course I must pursue ciuno rapidly and in order before me, but that day all we eouM do was to crec}) into holes and corners of the rocks, and seek rest. We were spent with toil and hunger, hut it was impossible to shoot birds or anything else till the gale abated. " I awoke after some hours, and found that a calm li.ul succeeded the storm. It was midnight, but the sun wa.-, above the hori/on. Then it was that 1 wrote the nolo to your mother in pencil on a leaf of my ])oeket-bo()k. Tlieic were not many words beside the ' We are wrecked ' that you made out. T told the latitude and longitude of oui' disaster." " ft would have been a great comfort to us to know- that," said Edward. "Yes; but guided by tho Es(|uimaux, you found in wondei'fidly soon. I did not send off the bird at once. I waited till nearer his natural tinuM)f awaking. Then 1 I'uil him on a little biscuit that one of the men chanced to havo in his pocket, and let him drink at a fresh pool I found. I had fed him also the night before in tho same way. You saw what 1 tied on my note with. Hero is the otlier half of the chain. I have always kei)t it." " AFy fatii(>r ! my dear father I how different it Jill is now I Think of that time and of this I" " Yes, indeed ! I never, as I told you, was so wild as to Lope for a rescuo this season. I despatched the pigeon to r lives woio wards on mo art from iho ks out of tli(> id my self to •ty lives con- pursue (!amo 11 we could e rocks, aad litter, but it ! till the gale t SI calm liail ilic sun \v:is the Hole to hook. Thvvv ^'recked ' tliiU ritude of oui' I us to k now ran found u-^ d at once. I . Then I Iri luced to have >1 I found. I le way. Yon ho other liah 'cnt it all i^ ; so wild ns to the pigeon tt> T/jC Little Ma(r(ri\', \i>^ 257 try to ensure one ne.xt spring ; hut T always believed — felt certain, I may say — that you would come ne.^ct sprimj;, whether th.e pigeon reached you or not." " You wei-e right. I had always rcscdved that you should not have a third winter to spend in the ice." "I fastiMied on my piece of piiper as well iis I could, but 1 ahvavs knew that in the lonnc fliii'ht there wa-i ijfrcat risk of its being lost. Still, I could do nobettei'. When it was done, I climbed to the highest ])()int of i-oek I could lind, and held him u[) at arm's l(>ngth. Jt was a long while before he start(Ml away, lie fluttered on my arm, took many short llights, and returned. It was an hour at least before he rose in the air, (lew round in a large wheeling circle, rose so high as to bo nearly h^st to my eyes, and then began a steady flight to the south-east. I think that moment when 1 lost sight of him was the i)itterest I have yet, ex[)erieneed, though [ had accomplished this Important object. [ had launched him into an illinutable waste, nujst likely to perish ; or if he reached home, what a- messenger of sorrow would ho be! Then cam(^ the recollection of our home to whicli that little fading sjK'ck was journeying, and which 1 should never — so 1 felt at that moment — seeaofain. I seemed to see you and 3'our nu)therin your anguish, and mv little ]\ra[ru"Ie's soft hands caressiniJ' him, and her tears (h'opping on hiin I" " How like the reality was!" said Ivlward. "It was what reidly hap[)ened." " Some beaut ifid lines of poetry that 1 once heard tliat dear little Maggie repeat came back to me at that moment : * Thci'o i.s a power, wlioso euro IViu.'iios thy way uI'Jmi^^ thur, pathless coast, — The desert and il'.imilablo air, — Lone, wandcriug, but not lost.' 17 \\{\ \^ ; I i? %^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / O .<Ls 1.0 I.I 1.25 •so l"^™ ^ us. IttUU ll'8 1.4 1.6 6" Photographic Sciences Corporation ,\ ^ ,i>^ <^ 4^ O^ 33 WESV MAIN STREET WP-BSTER.N.'.. MS80 (716) 872-4503 ■^' 4r 6^ I m ll iU .■ 1 258 7/; 6' Voyage' of the Constance. It is strange the strengtli and energy tliat returned to me. I went among my men ; told them of the messenger I had despatched ; detailed my plan to them, and told them what my hopes were. They came round mo, engaged to obey my orders in every tl dug, and to do all their part towards maintaining our lives. I then, together with .Air. Wilson, our surgeon, went out in search of food, and we soon brought in a seal ; collected dry moss and cooked it by the aid of the oil, and breakfasted on it. \Ye had no difficulty about getting fire ; most of the men had tLoir pipes and some matches. Poor fellows ! they have had to learn to do without tobacco since. Water we found abun- dantly. In short, I knew w^e could easily subsist in summer, as we had rifles. To prepare for winter was tlie great object. You will sec how we succeeded wdien I take you into our hut." "When was it tliat you parted from the others ?" *' We knew of two places to the westward where millions of sea-birds breed. That was our destination; but in tra- vell'no- towards it a doubt arose as to wdiicli was best. I pushed on with one of the men to choose. While wo were absent the others met with a tribe of Esquimaux, who were miu'ratint:!' to the east, and bartered with them for food, giving our dogs in exchange. I had directed them to do so if any opportunity Dlfereil." " But your jacket, how did they come by that r" and Edward told all the stoiy of his suficrings about it. " That ha})pened in the simplest way imaginable. Philip Stewart, my first officer — a line fellow, wdiom you will like, Edward — had his clothes lorn to shreds in escaping fi-aiii the wreck ; so I gave him my jacket, as I had my rough coat over it, having been on deck many hours, and he cy- changed it with the Esquimaux for several rcnidccr-skhis m1 irned to mo. sengor I liad I told them cngaoed to II tlieir part ler with Uv. bod, and wo d cooked it Wc had no n had their have had to found abiiii- r subsist ill. liter was tlic when I take iicrs ?" licrc milhons ; but in tra- was best. I hilo we were X, wlio were in for food, licm to do so tliat r" and it it. able. Philip ou will like, eaping from d my rough , and ho cx- indccr-skins 7 he Little Maggie. 2^0 and a jumper for himself besides. The jacket was too thin for our life here." " Oh, yes ! It was a good exchange, and now I see how it all happened." The hours flew in this and much more discourse. The letter Edward had brought from his mother had been an indescribable comfort to Captain Armstrong; still the thought that nearly a year must pass yet beforl they could be home often made him anxious for her. Bat he would not yield to anxiety. Edward wished for another messenger as good as poor Launcy, and longed that his mother Tnd Margaret could but share his joy. To him, the whole jouri ey, the halt at noon, pitching the tent at night, waking in the morning, starting again, all was one continued joy? and he found himself seated on a large stone, sketching^ just in his old way, their little tent with the dogs and ii\Q(\gQ by it, and his flxther standing looking out at the set- ting sun, before he recollected how long it was since he had been able to draw a line. An hour after sunset on the second day they turned into a ravine or pass, which reminded Edward of that by M'hich they left the shore of Lancaster Sound. The moon gave light enough to go on with safety. "We arc approaching the coast, I suppose ?" said he. "Yes, we are near our rocks, but they are all deserted now. The birds have migrated to the south." " Are we ycvj near the hut ?" " Yes. Do you see that shadow on the snow ? That is cast by the rock that shelters it." " Now I see two little dome-shaped buildings like laiye l)eavers' houses stuck together. That's the place, I suppo.se. Much too splendid to be called a 'hut.' Docs that hght come from the window ?'^ if « M-ll 26o tl ' 1 hill , 1 .. . 1 1^ ^ L' The Voyage of the Constance. " Yes. T'lat is tlic light of oiu' lamp shining througli a slicct ofico that makes oni* window-pane. Oar hut is built of rougli stones, but you see it is coated outside Avitli snow to make it warm. Xow draw up at i\\G door, unliarness the dogs and keep them close, and follow me in with them." Edw\ard drew^ up at the end of a long narrow entrance, built in imitation of the Esquimaux, and fastened up by a door of walrus hide. His father went round to the window and ta})ped three times, then stood by him at the door. It was unfastened from the inside in half a minute, and a strong voice exclaimed : '' Why, Captain, you've made good speed ! We never hoped for you before to-morrow !" Tliere was only room for one to pass along at once, so having opened the door the speaker turned back quickly^ stooping low, for the passage was not five feet in height, talking all the time, saying, " Here's the Captain and Tom all right, mates ! They're all at home, Captain, and glad they'll be to see you." Captain Armstrong followed close, and as Edward emerged into the room at the end, and stood upright by his side, said in as loud a voice as he could command, " ]\[y son has come to rescue us !" His agita- tion was so great that he could say no more. But it was enough. Tliere was a wild cry of jny nnd surprise. Those strong men, wdio had borne their hardships and dangers without a complaint, wdio had faced death without fear, and were looking forward to a winter of perils and sufferings with cheerful ne^;^, vet felt the full blessing; of the rescue. Home, friends, life, and happiness were in the words. They sur- rounded Edward and his father ; many a rough face was bathed in tears ; many a voice was choked with sobs. On every side he heard blessings. His hands were grasped; 2" tlirou^'li a hnt is built Q witli snow , •unharness with tlieni." )\v entrance, ncd up ]iy a tlio windoAV ho door. It nutc, and a ! We never ^ at once, so lack quickly^ 3et in height, :ain and Tom in, and glad dlowed close, die end, and !e as he could ' His agita- 1 cry of jny borne their [it, who had -y forward to cheerfulness, [omc, friends, They sin-- (Uo:li face was ith sobs. On vcrc grasped I Arctic Housekeeping. 261 his warm wrappings were unfastened, that they might see his face ; and when they saw his face bcamiugwith Joy and excitement, and saw what a young boy had come to save them, their enthusiasm was greater than ever. It was a welcome, indeed. CHAPTER XXVI, A r. C T I C HOUSE K E E P I X G. When the first moment of surprise was over. Captain Arm- strong spoke again, and told them that a ship was waiting for them in Lancaster Sound, and a sledge-party from it was encamped within thirty miles of them, and that to- morrow morning they were to start to join it, and all travel together to the ship, in hope of a release from the ice in spring, and a happy return home. The fact that they were really rescued, which seemed at first wild and incredible to some of them, came home to every heart now. There were rapid questions and exclamations. The story of the pigeon's return and of Sir Hugh's generosity were told, "And who do you think commanded our rescue-ship, the 'Constance?' and has brought the sleclgc-party for- ward to find us ? "Who but my nephew, John Armstrono-, of the ' Investio>ator !' " "God bless him!" "He's safe home, then," "Wo feared to ask you, Captain !" echoed through the hut. "Wait a minute! John Armstrong brought our ship this season, but last season he came home with the news that his captain, M'Clure of the ' Investigator,' had dis- covered the north-west passage." At this announcement three such cheers as mi'dit have been expected to knock the roof off the hut rose from the crewofthe"Pole-Star." t i ' i u » I •(, iM^ ill w li I i 1^ \ u\ V fll ;il i 'i 4 H t " 1 h ! 1 1 il ^k 4« 262 77/^ F(7)'^^^ f^/' the Constance. As the sound died away a young man among tlicm, "svlio had decidedly the air of a gentleman in spite of a very ragged jacket, stepped forward, and taking Captain Arm- strong by the hand said : " We must think of you now, who never think of yourself. Let me keep my command to-night, and you only think of rest. You are very tired)' "Agreed," said Captain Armstrong. "Edward, this is my first ollicer — my right hand, Philip Stev/art : my right hand throuo'h all our struiXGi'les and sutferiiiors." They shook hands. Edward felt he had made a new friend. "Now then," cried Philip, raising his voice, " no more (]uestions ; no more talk till we have taken care of our cap- tain and his son. Who is cook to-night ? ]3ring out the best we have. Spread bear-skins and make them rest, and bring water and seals' llesh for the dogs." All were in motion directly, and while another 3'oung man, who said he had a right to take care of them because he was the doctor, took olf their warm furs, the others had cleared the room of all the work they were about, throwing everything into little nooks and crypts at the sides. Then they trimmed the lamp, made of a hollow stone with seals' oil and a wick of moss, a fashion they had learned from the Esquimaux, and placed a large pot over it. Captain Armstrong now directed them to unload the sledge, and the heap of far clothing was soon piled in a corner. " They were thoughtful for us, 3'ou see," said lie, " and we shall go among our ])rothers less shaggy and wild- looking than we might have done. The rest of our cargo consists only of a few luxuries they sent to you." The things were brought in, and especially the bread inong tliem, ite of a very iiptain Arm- )f you now, ly command )u arc YCiy svard, tliis is 'fc : my right made a new }, "no more 3 of our cap- ring out the em rest, and otlier 3'oung icni because others had it, throwing ides. Then with seals' ed from tlie unload the piled in a d ho, " and and wild- if our cargo the bread Arctic Housekeeping. 263 and tea were very welcome pi'esents ; and a kettle for niakhig it excited a laugh, and much admiration. Edward, meanwhile, stretched at his ease, witli Trident at his feet, his father opposite to him and gladness in his heart, had time to observe the construction of tlie hut and all the contrivances of its masters. It was built of rough stone and consisted of two cliambers, imited by a small opening, that could be closed or opened at pleasure. That he was in might be twelve feet each way, and rose to a dome-shaped roof, not above ten feet high in the middle. Round the wall was a kind of raised bench made of stones; the whole being after the plan of an Esquimaux hut, only laro'cr and better built. It w^as on this raised bench that Edward and his father were lying. There was a largo irregular-shaped stone in the middle, flat at the top, and reared on four frau'ments of rock that served as a table ; and four great stones, one at each side of it, were seats. In the middle of this table one of the men, who was steward to-night, placed some small stones, the purpose of which puzzled Edward. Ke then brought a great pile of empty crab-shells, half of which he stood at one end and half at the other. A number of knives and forks, made of bone or walrus tusks, Avcre laid beside them. Then came drinking cups of various shapes and sizes, most of them I being hollow shells. TJu large pot was now placed on the stones, steaming out a very savoury smell, and the supper was announced to be served. Edward was invited to take his scat at the captain's table ; his father and his first officer took each end ; ^Ir. Wilson, the surgeon, sat opposite to Edward. All the rest of the company sat round the walls on the rough bench. " Edward," said Pliilip Stewart, in his capacity of host for the night, "you see we cannot treat you with a soup- \ I' ti l:' l« U f .•i" 264 The Voyage of the Constance, tureen. "We Avero too liap[)y to Ihicl this good large tin pot that we had left wiili our depot of provisions asliore. Will you have auk, gull, tern, kittiewake, ptarmigan, bunting, gooric, or duck r" All are contained in this stew." Edward declared he was puzzled in the mic'sfc of such variety, but he thought that auk and kittiewake were tempting. Philip helped him to something which tasted very good to him, hungry and happy as he was ; his plate was one of the crab-shells, and he was requested to be a little careful, as not standing quite flat, it might be apt to tip up : if he had a knife in his pocket he was asked to ust; it, as those contrived by the crew were too much of the character of the Chinese chop-stick. Every one was served soon, those who sat by the wall putting their crab-shells on their knees. There was abundance of water in large skins of tanned reindeer-skin, varnished with a preparation of reindeer horns ; these had been bought from the Esqui- maux. The lime-juice was a welcome addition to the whole company, and they supped chiefly on the bread, which they had not tasted since their shipwreck. The next course was bear-steaks, cooked on a gridiron made of broken ramrods stuck in walrus tusks. Supper being over, everytliing was cleared away with wonderful (piickness, the kettle was set to boil, and tea made. Every one now became very merry, and enjoyed it to the utmost, while jokes and laughter filled the room with pleasant sounds. i I i" ' 1 I ( i M i u>« large till pot ashore. Will ^ari, bunting, nicsfc of such ;icwM.ke wci'o which tasted ^as ; his plate (sted to be a ght be apt to asked to uso much of the le was served ;rab-sliells on n large skins reparation of 11 the Esqni- lition to the a the bread, ;k. on a gridiron d away with 3oil, and tea 1 1 enjoyed it jd the room 265 CHAPTER XXVII. A :M E E T 1 X C; AND A 1' A R T I N G. " He is awake, you need not creep about any longer." These words, spoken by Philip, were the lirst Edward heard next morning, as he opened his eyes and started up, seeing every one was dressed, and that preparations for departure Avere going on rapidly. ''It is only five o'clock," continued PhiUp, "and the men have been anxious you sliould rest as long as possible ; but come now, and I will show you your dress- ing-room. You will find plenty of water,"' but as to soap and towels — n Edward stopped him to congratulate liini on his fashionable appearance ; to which Philip replied that he felt as warm and comfortable as he was fashionable— perhaps, indeed, rather more so— and that they were all quite proud of themselves, and expected to create a com- plete sensation among the bears and wolves, who were the only inhabitants of these hospitable shores at present. " Make haste, old fellow ! Ibr bi-eakfiist will be ready directly, and we long to be ofi'," he added, as he hurried away. Issuing from his dressing-room, Edward met his fiithcr. "We are nearly ready, Edward," said he. "Your sledge is loaded with what provisions w^e require for our inarch. All we shall have to do after breakfast is to seal up our stores and hut, and leave them for the Esquimaux if any come this way. Come and see our larders and store-rooms." Edward followed to some low snow-houses built against ■^ ..4 li ! ! !■ .Ml I! I ^1 I t 'I '■ I f. A 266 T/;t' 1 o)\ige cf the Constance, tliG back of tlic hut, and looldiin* in,, saw ^q-rcaf, nmiilicrs of blids of various kinds, liarcs, foxes, portions of seal, l)eai-. and walrus, joints of venison, piles of fish, and innanu-ia- blo cgg-s. Heaps of dry leaves, Avhich his father told him were sorrel, liad a conipartnicnt to themselves, in anotlni' were skins full of oil, and pvat quantities of dry moss f .i- fuel, and skins, furs, and feathers, for clotliing, and i'm' warmth while slecpinq*. It appeared to J'^dward, as ho looked, that there would have been ample stores for winter, and he said so. "There is suflicient," said Captain Armstrong, 'Mor thirty weeks — not (piite long enough — but we did our utmost, and our ammunition was almost exhausted. Our chief danger would have arisen from the cold. Our supply of oil was too sinall. We should have boen obliu'ed to shut out every breath of air, in order to keep up the tem- perature, and our suiferings in the four months of darkness, and the extreme severity of the climate in early spring, must have been very great. AVe should have found our- selves at the end weakened by illness, and probably short of our numbers by many deaths. From all this we have been saved by j^our arrival." Edward's head was bowed down by his gratitude f >r the blessing. AVhen he spoke, it was to express his won- der at the amount of Avork accomplished during the three months that had passed. " We were never idle for an hour," said his fit her. " By no other means could all the men have kept their health. In bad weather we attended to 'the interior d' the hut,' as you artists would say, or peribrmed the })art tif tailors; and having no books, we that had read told stories, histories, anything we could remend)er, and I had a sini:- ing-ciass. All the men that have voices can sing in parts. sat nunilicrs of ; of seal, boai', nd iiiiiunicia- tlier told liim s. In anotliiM" r dry moss joi' :;liiiiL;', and fur it tliero would id so. nisti'oii!^', '' for t we did our liaustcd. Our 1. Our supply }en obliy'cd to p up the teni- lis of darkness, ^ early spriu;:', ve found our- n'obably short this we have gratitude f n* ircss bis wou- Lrinjx tbe three id Ids fatlier. ve kept tliL'ir he interior oi ed the part o( d told stories, [ bad a sing- sing in parts. ^ Meeting and a Parting. 267 Witb all tbis Ave liavo done capitally, and Ijut for poor Tom's accident we should every one bavc left our summer- fpiarters perfectly well." They were summoned to breid<fast very soon, and a substantial one it was, the doi;'s farinii- as well as their masters. Then there was a general move. Some were clearing up, for everything nnist be left in perfect order ; otliers were scaling up the storebouses with stones and vsnow. Edward, wdio bad tbe materials about liini, was writing, under bis father's dictation, a short record, to bo left bebind, fastened up against the wall of the room. The record was as follows : — " Tbis but was built by tbe crew of tbe ' Pole-Star,' Captain Armstrong, U.K., whicb was crushed in the ice with all ber stores, tbirty miles to the eastward of tbis spot, June '2nd, ISoi. They were rescued by the arrival of the Captain's son, wlio brought them news that tbe ' Constance,' screw steamer, manned and fitted out by Sir Hugb Armstrong, and commanded by Lieutenant John Armstrong, II.jST., was waiting to receive tliem in Croker's Bay — a note brougbt bome by a carrier-pigeon to the Cap- tain's wife baving told ber the story of their misfortune four daA'S after it baj)pened. Tbe rescue sbip arrived in Croker's Bay on the 2nd of September in tbe same year, and tbe news of it reached the crew of tbe 'Pole-Star ' in this but on the nio-bt of the loth. a "Tbis record is written before starting to join the ship, witb grateful hearts for their preservation up to this time, and for tbe rescue that lias been permitted to rcacli tliem. By tbe time tbis bad been signed by tbe Captain and all tbe crew, and fastened up, all w\is done. Edward bad , 1^' \ I t fti if:. II 268 The Voyage of the Constanee, already Loc'^'cmI for a few relics, and packed tliem in tlio sledo-c. These "were sonio ol'tlie knives and forks of walrus tusks, some Hafc sliells used for plates, a drinking cup or two, a Jew skins of each bird, and of the fox and hare, to stuif, a bag of the soft eider down, and some of the moss. Now every head was uncovered, and, standing round their cjiptain, every voice joined his in a short but fervent prayer and thanksgiving. Then they followed him out in silence, closed up the entrance of the deserted hut, and turned their f^iccs homewards. It is not easy to imagine the joy in every heart, hut there was something solemn in the silence with which they marched on. Suddeidy Edward heard a chant rise upon the icy air, led by the line strong voice of his father ; with what joy did he join his own with it once more, after their long separation ! ''Oh give thanks nnto the Lord, call upon his name: make known his deeds among the people. " He telloth the number of the stars : He calleth tlicui all by their names. Great is our God, and of great power. His understanding is inliuite. "He sendeth forth h.s commandment upon earth: Lis word runneth swiftly. " He ciiveth snow like wool : He scattereth the hoiu'- frost like ashes. He casteth forth his ice. Who can stand before his cold ? " He sendeth out his word, and raelteth them : lie causeth his wind to blow, and the w^aters flow. " The Lord healeth the broken-hearted, and bindeth up their griefs." The voices died away, and the high spirits of the part}' soon broke out in talk, laughter, and songs. They walked mile after mile without thinking of fatigue, and halted at !(1 iliem in tlio forks of wfilrus riiiking cup or :)X and hare, to c of the moss, standinf^ round lort but fervent red him out in sorted hut, and 3very heart, hut vith which tlicy ;hant rise upon lis father ; with Qore, after tlieir upon his name: ^G calleth tlioni ►f great power. mon earth : Lis eth the hoar- Who can stund 3th them: He w. and bindeth np ts of the party Thev walked and halted at J Meeting and a Partiu 5*- 269 noon, to rest and refresh the doc;-s more than because they felt any need of food or rest tlicmsehx^s — and yet it must be owned they did full justice to tlicir good cheer. After two hours they started again, and when at last the sun sot and the moon rose, some among them began to look out for the first view of the conical hill, and wore obliged to own to themselves that a walk of thirty miles is rather fati"'uinfi' — especially when there is a good deal of rough and di Hi- cult ground to pass over : at all events, such a walk as makes a good supper and comfortable tent an ngreealdc prospect. The dogs walked wearily, and Edward kept his hand on Trident's head, and patted and encouraged him. It was necessary to halt once more, and give them half-an- hour's rest and some water. The dogs stretched themselves r)Lit, and Edward was . ;, liis knees rubbing their tired fct'fc with snow Avhile they slept, when one after mother raised his head, growling and snuffing the air, then all sprang to their foot barking furi- ously. At the same moment, a large she-bear with two cubs came stealthily out from behind a rock in front. Cai)tain Armstrong levelled his rifle, so did two or three others. *' Stop !" said he ; " let no one fire unless she comes on. The dogs will turn her." She came on, however, boldly — probably pressed by hunger— but seeing the six fierce dogs, and the large party of men behind, she stopped, opening her mouth fiercely. The cubs got close up to her ; one was completely hidden, the small head of the other was plainly seen in the moon- light jieeping out of her thick hair. " She would run and escape if she w^ere not afraid for her cubs," said Captaia Armstrong. " Call in your Jogs, Edward !" Trident obeyed instantly, the others unwillingly. Cap- I: ■N » i'il S? !:■ li \i UN 1 ; ! '^: r "' ■ I A f " 1 270 Ihe Voyage of the Constance. tain Armstrong fired his rifle in the air to frighten her away ; but the bear woukl not move until the dogs re- treated. Wlien she was sure that they were really gone, she at last turned ; but she did not forget her cubs. Slio fu'st took one in her mouth, and flung it as far as she could from her, then the other the same ; ran up to them, ^ung them both on again, growling and roaring furiously all the time, till she gained the rocks and disappeared. "You might liave hit her easily, Captain," said some one. " Very easily. But why should I ? We have been obliired to kill multitudes of animals for food. We can well afford to let this mother save her young ones, and leave them to their ice and snow. I should have felt like the ' Ancient Mariner' after he killed the albatross, if I had shot such a mother." "All right, Captain," said several voices. " I suppose, Edward," said Philip, " that if I were in England I should say your father was ' a brick.' Being near the Pole, I shall say he is the largest hearted man in the world. Look at him now, that can sympatluse witli a bear, and teach these fellows Coleridge's poetry, and then see him in front of danger and death. Edward, you miglit well risk your life for such a father ! " Edward felt that he and Philip would always be friends. "How I shall like to introduce John to you!" said ho, " You will get on capitally together." "We have several mutual friends," said Philij), "and I know him well by re])utation already." They harnessed the dogs again and moved on. The whole party walked now to case the dogs, becoming more silent as they got more tired. At last Captain Armstrong pointed out the conical hill, which showed its top against tlie sky e. ': to frighten her ill the dogs re- .vero really goiio, : her cubs. She 1 fiir as she could 1 to them, ^unn* furiously all the ired. ain," said some We have been food. Wc can oung ones, and 1 have felt like I albatross, if I s. at if I were in brick.' Being- learted man in ipatliise witli a )etry, and then ^'ard, you miglit rays be friends, ^ou ! " said he, Philip, " and I on. The whole g more silent strong pointed ;ainst tiie skv ^ Meeting and a Parting, ^ them. John had \Z\ , i ""' '"°"'"" *°^^a'-ds hriii'' on thp iU-r.^ <- u '"'^ '"™' to o "u tno tucd travellers. There -ivn« n • meetiijo.. '-''^ "'^s a joyous " Wiiero's j-our Captain ? Which is ho V" "wv i ■ Lieutenant Annstronc ?" Thi^ cw .. ' ""'^ '' rescued cre,r. ^ '°°'' ^™"'^ =""°"S tl'e t.o hlr^ V— i^trr ''ir tT'^'^ ^^^ '--^ ^^^>^-« °^ -'"uw, Mitn : jjou t lose a niomonf I P,.^ • and we are off I " ^iiomcnt I Lrefc m, The party were divided among the sledo-es nnf n f . -o.e must any one wall. The fo^r .nJ^:^L^ '^ Jewfonndlanders, and left them to trot on at leisur thS tliey themsel.es dragged the '' Little .Alao-o-ie " ' " inourllr^^-f?:'^ '"^ ^^''''' ^^^^ --«t«o-o in oui sledge, said Adam Black. e^tabu,.hcd wit, and sure of a lauodi " Wp',.o f., i power, and not af.aid of it." ^ ' ^'""^"^'^^ seatif '' ""' ""' "' ^^ ^'^^""'^^- ^^^^^ *^^^ ^^- -11 li Which is the doctor ?" asked Peter. II llere he is !" answered Wilson for himself. 1 hat s all right. You're wanted '" ^^J^o^ is Tom ?" asked Captain Armstrong, taking "Very bad." i' 1' ■ IS. I ■•'I . ' i ill: lii,'- f. I 272 Tbe Voyage of the Constance. " Peter Is apt to take the gloomy side, father," Nvliispcred Edward. The three tents, with tlieir lights raying into the dark- ness, looked cheerful and inviting as the}^ came on. Joliii, who had walked at the head of the cavalcade, ushered liis guests into the two largest. His men unharnessed the dogs, which went and stretched themselves out in a snow-liiit built expressly for tliem during leisure time, where their food and water were ready ; Trident, of course, and. Chloc, as a special privilege, keeping by Edward. Supper was spread, and there was a pleasant warmth and brightness from the lamps in each tent, and bear-skins laid for restiin;- on. To the men from tlie hut, so long used to tlieir wild life, the comfort seemed something' wonderful. Readv hands Avcre at work in a moment, helping off wraps, serving out food and drink (actually in cups and plates), and fatigue, hunger, and trouble seemed, banished from tlio world. But while every one else was in full enjoyment, Captain Armstrong, who had only swallowed a draught of water, was seated by his poor wounded man, and had grasped the rougli hand that was held out to him in botli his. Tom Bolt lay in the third tent, on a bed of soft skins as comfortably arranged as possible. The tent had been coatetl without with snow, and was Avell vrarmed by the lamp, and perfectly quiet. Tom's ej^es were fixed on his captain with a look of love and confidence. " Maybe I shall get better, Captain, now you're come," he whispered. Ho was too weak to say it louder. '* They've all been as kind to me and as tender to me as if I'd been .1 young child, but I've been longing for a sight o' your face." " I've been longing for a sight of yours, too, my dear ther,"wLIspcred ^ into the dark- 2arQG on. Jolm, ,de, ushered liis nessed the dog-s, in a snow-lint ine, where tlicir irse, and Chloe, -1. Slipper was and brightness L'\id for resting'' ed to their wild 3erfuh Rcadv 3ing off wraps, Lips and plates), nished from tlio 3yment, Captain 'htof Avater, was 'asped the roi]g]i [ of soft skins as had been coated y the Lamp, ami th a look of love V you're come,"' ider. '* They've as if I'd been a lit o' your face." ^, too, my deiiv J Meeting and a Parting, 272 fellow," said Captain Armstrong, who saw too clearly that death was written there. Tom smiled and looked up, and Captain Armstrono- following the direction of his eyes, saw Edward beside him ihe sight of him does me good," said Tom " It's hard to ^i^noio, Captain, when he's come to fetch us home " Captam Armstrong could not speak. It seemed indeed very hard ! The sick man had closed his eyes, as if the thought had been too much for him. Captain Armstrono- could with difficulty suppress a groan, and the tear°s gathered in his eyes. " I am going to send for Mr. Wilson. You will like to see him ?" " Yes sir. He's very kind. Are they all here ? All right ?" " All here. They wanted to come to you, but we mus keep you quiet." He rose to call for Wilson. Tom's eyes followed him as he went, and rested on him as he returned with such a look of affection in them, that the tears gushed from Edward's. For the first time he now saw that death was coming. Mr. Wilson made but a short examination, said a few kind words, and went to prepare a soothing drink. In the course of the evening several of his messmates came to see the sick man. Edward and his father sat in that tent all night. It was getting towards morning ; poor Tom had been lying very still for a long time, and they thought he slept, but when Captain Armstrong came close to the bed he saw that the eyes were open. Soon afterwards a few words broke the silence. " You'll find out my poor old mother, Captain ? You 18 1 "R * \» i'':^ 274 ^^^ Yoyage of the Constance, know where slie lives ; and you'll sliare the money, if they give me an}-, between her and Susan. And you'll tell Susan I always wore the lock of hair, and you'll bury it with me ?" " I will do everything you wish, and tell them you have been a brave and faithfnl man, and God will comfort them. My poor Tom, remember who said, * Well done, thou good and faithful servant ! Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.' So does our Lord say now to you." " Ay, ay, sir." Many a time had Tom said so to his captain in storm and tumult, in answer to orders given to stand and battle with winds and waves and ice ; and as his captain spoke that message in the quiet little tent, the same words, " Ay, ay, sir," answered him, — but gently now. They were Tom's last words. Silently and mournfully the men visited the tent next morning where their lost comrade lay. It was necessary to make preparations for burying him. It was very difH- cult, fc ^ the ground was hard as stone and they had no tools. They sought about for some place, and discovered a hollow in a rock about a mile off, in which he miglit be laid, and then built up with stones. They returned, and placing their lost friend, wrapped in deer-skins, on one of the sledges, ten men dragged him to the place, while all the rest followed in procession, his captain walking at tlio head. Tenderly they laid him in his lonely sepulchre, and Captain Armstrong did not forget his request. Before they closed the opening he crept in, and laid by the silent dead a long lock of light silky hair. They built up against the opening a strong rampart of stones, which would never be disturbed. A grave is sacred to the Esquimaux. Peter ' money, if tlicy Vnd you'll tell you'll bury it them you have comfort them. one, thou good y of thy Lord.' ptain in storm md and battle caj)tain spoke le words, " Ay, Ley were Tom's the tent next was necessary vas very difll- l they had uo . discovered a I he mi gilt be returned, and :ins, on one of lace, while all 'alking at tlio sepulchre, and Before they he silent dead ip against the ould never be maux. Peter Winter in Lancaster Sound, 275 contrived to cut out in a stone the initials " T. B." and the year 1854. They could do no more, but turned slowly back to their encampment. Captam Armstrong, seeing the necessity of raising their spirits, begged his nephew to hurry the departure for the ship. John, therefore, went among them as they were cooking their breakfast, and told them he would start in an hour after they had finished, and that it would depend on their energy how soon they got to the ship, and brought all their toils to an end. Six days, he said, was his limit, and if they seconded him, he thought it would be done. The bustle of packing the sledges, striking the tents, and getting oflP, was the best possible thing for them. Once in motion again, i\iQ shock of poor Tom's death was re- covered, and the natural light-heartedness of sailors re- turned to them. They accomplished the journey with all its difficulties within the time John had allowed. On the sixth day they got to the " Constance," having met the re- serve-sledge the day before. They found everything right and all well on board ; met with a most heartfelt welcome ; and were soon settled in their comfortable quarters once more, in a good ship, and able to think of home. CHAPTER XXVIII. WINTER IN LANCASTER SOUND. It is the beginning of December. The sun set on the 30th of October, not to rise again for more than four months ; but the full moon has been above the horizon for many iii I ■11 ! \l W rt n n Mi ■ 1 276 77?^ Tij/^^^ of the Constance, days and nights, and the stars shine brighter and look larger than they do in England. The " Constance " lies embedded in ice several feet thick, about a cable's length from shore. Her deck is housed over with thick felt, firmly fixed up with planking, and her lower spars act as beams. Her boats and all heavy stores, such as ropes, chain cables, anchors, are secured ashore, so as to leave her deck empty and free, as a place of exercise in bad weather. Her sides are piled up with snow to keep in the heat. At each end of the deck is a door, which, opening at the top of a flight of steps cut in the snow, leads down to the ice. The tall masts stand up clear against the starry sky. Jolm would not have them unshipped ; they serve as a guide to parties wandering off ashore and as a good station for look- ing out. The cold is not yet so intense as it will be in a month or two, but the thermometer stands at zero, and zero is o2^ below the freezing-point. On deck, sheltered by the felt and assisted by the fun- nels and stove-pipes from below, it is not much below the freezing-point. Between decks and throughout the sleep- ing-places a regular temperature of ^0° is maintained, rising when everything is shut up for the evening to G0\ There it is warm and comfortable. Various outbuildings of snow are constructed close to the ship. They are larders and store-rooms, where fresh pro- visions keep for any length of time. There is a stone build- ng perched on a high rock ashore, that is the Observatory. Trident and his party have their kennels on deck under the felt, but Trident's is usually empty. He is always with his master. The Esquimaux dogs are all gone but two ; Olaf also is gone. Very soon after the return of the sledge party, on the 21st of September, Olaf asked his captain to be allowed to leave the ship. On inquiry it iter and look onstance " lies cable's lenijftli itli thick felt, er spars act as ucli as ropes, IS to leave her 1 bad weather, the heat. At ling at the top 3wn to the ice. •ry sky. John B as a guide to bation for look- b will be in a ! at zero, and ed by the fun- mch below the lout the sleep- in tained, rising" to G0\ There ructed close to rhere fresh pro- s a stone builcl- e Observatory, on deck under He is always ) all gone but le return of tlie )laf asked his On inquiry it fV inter in Lancaster Sound. 277 was found, rather to John's surprise and amusement that among that tribe of Esquimaux they met with, Olaf had seen the daughter of the chief, whom be had never for- gotten since, and now wanted to go and ask her in mar riage. Peter, who had found it out very soon, thought it was not a bad idea ; and after thinking about it a day or two, and consulting Captain Armstrong and Edward, John sent for Olaf to settle the matter. The poor fellow came, looking rather shy, ushered in by Peter. ^ "Well, Olaf," said John, - if you really mean to settle with this tribe, and know where to find them, you shall not go empty-handed. You have worked well for us, and shall have your reward." Olaf, speaking in his broken English, said he was a dead man when they took him aboard, and he wanted no reward. " But if you took a sledge and team of dogs you would have a better chance with the chief, I think. "^ Peter says you know his daughter will consent. Go and choose the sledge you like best, and you shall have all the dogs but Nannook and Toodla. I am going to take them home!" Olaf stood bewildered at such a prize as this, and Peter, clapping him on the shoulder, told him his fortune was made,' ' and went with him to get out his sledge and dogs. So Olaf was soon off, carrying with him also a present from Edward to his bride, and some tools and useful thino-s besides for himself. In fine weather, without much wind, the cold is not too severe in December to take exercise and amusement in the open air with pleasure. But it is necessary to dress warmly and take proper precautions. Three or four figures, looking as like bears as men can well do, are mountino- to the deck, ready to go down upon the ice. ^fh >f| ; '■ I 278 The Voyage of the Constance. "It's colder to-day," said Allen, who was one of them ; " say all you have to say before we sidly forth, and don't indulge in much conversation afterwards. Your chin may freeze to your upper jaw. On your peril keep your tongue in your mouth. It would instantly stick to your lips, and make a pretty little wound by pulling off the skin." " You talk of that little wound quite tenderly and con amorc,^^ said John, who was another of the bears. *' Oh, that's professional, you know," said Allen ; " I should recommend (professionally also) tlifit you avoid winking. Your eyelashes will bo apt to freeze together." " Anything else ?" asked Captain Armstrong, also one of the party. " Why, yes : unless your mittens are of the best quality, don't carry a rifle ; you may bo burnt ; and. if you feel something like a hot coal in your pocket, don't be alarmed, it's only your penknife. Keep on your masks. I'm glad to see the slits of the eyes are very small. They cannot bo too sma'l. Wilson and I have had several cases of snow- blindness to nip in the bud, and some frost-bites during this ^veek. We are off to skate now. Won't you join us ?" *' What do you say, John ? I will, if you like, when we have had our walk," said Captain Armstrong. John agreed, and they dM sallied forth and went down the snow-steps ; their breath made a cloud of smoke, as if each had fired a pistol, as he opened the door. They walked very fast, and kept their mouths tight shut for a time, for at first the air seemed to pierce them. But ten minutes' vigorous exercise made them feel it enjoyable. They passed quickly over the ice, which was all bathed in a flood of moonlight. It was ten o'clock, two hours after breakfast ; but day and night were only words to them now. They were bound for a spot at some distance, where JFlnter in Lancaster Sound, 279 they had appointed to meet Edward. It was caF5y to find him by the noise of the dogs, who were always carecrinc^ about on the ice near him. On the wny they passed niime- rons pieces of sculpture, built up and cut out in snow by the men. There were bears, guns, pillars, bridges — all sorts of things. A gigantic snow-man was finished all but his head, and three or four sailors were in the act of rolling an immense snow-ball towards him, with the intention of hoisting it up into its place to perform the part of the head. When they had got it in its place they said they should give him a handsome nose, eyes, and mouth. John, venturing to speak for the first time, recommended hair and a beard, as very easy to contrive with loose snow and icicles. " Have you seen Queen Victoria, sir ? I finished her crown," asked one of the men. " She stands there in front of that 'ere castle, and we're going to have Britannia oppo- site very soon. The crown sparkles real pretty in the moon )j They found the Queen, whose diamond crown did, in- deed, flash splendidly, and went on quickly. It was impos- sible to stand still to look at anything. "Edward!" shouted Captain Armstrong; "here we are V' " All right !" answered Peter, putting his head out of a cottage window. " Coming, father !" cried Edward, appearing on the roof, where he was constructing the chimneys. Captain Armstrong did stop now in spite of the cold, and his heart beat fast. It was a model of Eernhill. He and John had been under a promise not to go that way till they had permission. "That snow-wreath beyond," said Edward, "w^e shall make into the wood. Isn't it like ?" fv'il ■A >l i i ■(- i i i 5 I I : 280 The Voyage of the Constance, " Very like, my boy. It is beautiful." *' Now, come to sometliin!:^ else that we've done." *' I must stop a moment longer," said John, "to look at the dear old place. Well done, Peter !" " Am 1 to go on witli the wood, blaster Edward ?" asked Peter. "No, no; wait till I can help. It must stop till to- morrow. I'm going now, so I suppose you have plenty to be about without me somewhere or other." " Yes, yes ; I have. All right !" The three walked on ; the eight dogs in their train. They went some distance ; almost to the entrance of the bay. " There is my cathedral !" said Edward, proudly. The form that some hummocks had taken had suggested it ; by building up snow-walls, below the pinnacles and towers into which the hummocks were splintered, and adding tracery and windows made of icicles, he had produced a really beautiful work. Peter, who had assisted with his usual cleverness, had wished to do several irregular things, such as making a dome in the middle, building a square door, and such things ; but, as Edward was architect, his will was law, and he would have it as correct as he knew how to make it. Having admired the cathedral to the full satisfaction of the designer, they went to the skating-grounds. Edward went several times down a long slide with ten men, who were shooting down it, one after another, before he put on Lis skates ; but then he joined his father and John, and found Philip, Allen, and Wilson there also. As they re- turned to the ship, after an hour of this capital exercise, quite warm, and in high spirits, they passed a place where another party of the sailors had contrived a game like what done." )hn, " to look 7ard?" asked t stop till to- lave plenty to 1 their train, branco of the roTidly. lad suggested linnacles and d, and adding :1 produced a sted with his o'ular thin<»:s, iing a square architect, his t as he knew latisfaction of ds. Edward en men, who 3re he put on d John, and As they re- ital exercise, b place where me like what I Winter in Lancaster Sound, 281 the Parisians call " Montagnes BusRe.=i,'' by sliding down a steep ravine of snow on a rough sledge they had made. These were the amusements in tine weather. In had weather the deck was used for exercise, games, and some- times dancing. The work of the ship went on regularly all the time, and the order observed was as strict and perfect as it is in a man-of-war. Every afternoon, also, the cabin, which had been a social dining-room an hour before, was converted into a school. Classes were formed, and taught by Captain Armstrong, John, and the two surgeons. Edward had a drawing-class. Sometimes they had lectures ; sometimes evening readings ; sometimes concerts, in which glees and choruses were performed with much applause. In this way the long darkness, and the many periods of storm, fog, and snow-driffc passed on with wonderful quickness. Much of Captain Armstrong's time was spent in the observatory, where Edward acted as his assistant. Edward had resumed his studies under his father, and was very happy. A 1 the cold increased in intensity, and the ther- mometer fell to 20^ below zero, which it did before Christ- mas, he was not allowed to go out, except for a short, quick walk, and only when it was calm. If there was any wind, he experienced a sensation of breathlessness and torpor, and appeared stupefied, like a man half intoxicated, and his father, seeing this once, vv^ould not allow him to be exposed to it again. All but the strongest among the men some- times felt the same. Christmas-day was kept with all possible rejoicing. An extract from Edward's journal will give the best idea of it : — " 26th of Vecemher. — I awoke at six, and remembered it was Christmas- day, and thought of my mot.ier and all at l4 I ■ I f ii! m 282 77; 6' Voynge of the Constance. Lome. I coulilu't lie tlilnking loii*^, for I was obliged to be ready by the half hour to deek the cabin. 'It is black as pitch outside,' Peter says, wlien ho comes to wish mo IMerry Christmas. All the moro need to be brifrht inside. We lighted twelve lamps — John helping* us — and hung up our flags round the walls, instead of holly. They looked very well. We all mustered before my father came in, and greeted him with a Christmas carol. " We had service at eleven ; I thought of you very often ; nnd afterwards my father made a kind of address to us. He said many beautiful things to us. You know how he would feel and speak ; and I am sui'o ho had made us very happy, for we were in wild spirits when we rushed upon deck to make ourselves warm before dinner. "We had a s[)lendid dinner, and were astonished by the appearance of large joints of good Scotch roast beef, preserved in ice, and six great j)lum-pud dings. With our hot coffee afterwards we drank toasts, and got very merry. ' Our friends at home, and may our next Christmas-day bo spent with them,' w^as the last. " Allen read Dickens's ' Christmas Carol ' to us after dinner. He is a capital reader, and the men enjoyed it very much. Wo had a concert at night. Many a time throughout the day wo three — I mean my father, John, and I — n:ot too-ether to talk about you. There is but one cloud upon John and me. It is to ^ee that my father often suffers great arxiety at the thought of your dreadful trial, my dear motli' -•. Even now, seven long months, at the very least, mu pass before we can get home to you." Edward kn w but a small part of the suffering he has mentioned her ;. There were times when it seemed to Captain Armstrong that he should only go home to find he had lost her ; that she could not endure so long a period TFintcr In Lancaster Sound. 283 ,s obliged to ' It is black to wish mo rif^bt inside, .nd liuug up ?liey looked ianio in, and af you very .1 of address You know 10 bad made n we rusbcd icr. stonisbed by I roast beef, . With our very merry, itmas-day be ' to us after n enjoyed it lany a time atber, John, re is but one ■ father often readful trial, nths, at the to you." fering he has t seemed to tne to find he )ng a period of anxiety. At these times he shut himself up alone, and struggled witli his grief till he had mastered it. 1'aI ward's journal was failh Fully kept all this winter, and illustrated throughout. Every description had its skeich. The following, written on New Year'-day, was accompanied by one or two very s[)irited ones : — " Id Jdimari/, IS-'i^, Think of tl ;it date ! We brought in tlie new year that is to take us home, all standing in one great circle, with three cheers. Wo have been very jolly all day. We are to have a ball at night on deck, and sludl light up by and by. Wo are all making up our jour- nals, for the sake of writing ' l(S-'')5 ' for the first time. Wo have only just settled, after getting into a scrape on the ice. Wo have no moon, and it is cloudy, so it is just as dark as the fog made it on Cliristmas-day ; but after dinner, Peter, Avho always has In's eyes wider open by half than any one else, proclaimed that the 'roarer vras blazin' away.' So out we sallied, after muflling up ; I promising my fiither only to stop out a quarter of an hour. It was a splendid sight ! Arches, circles, palm-branches, crosses, were flashing over the sky. Macleod warned us not to go far off, knowing how suddenly the aurora fades. It was well he did. Out it went in a moment, and we, about twenty of us, were left in inky darkness. They began to put up blue-lights and rockets from the ship instantly, and we o-ot safe in ; but we knocked each other down without the least idea we were near, as we came groping back, and Ben and another great strong fellow ran foul of the snow- man, and down he went ; his head came bounding over the ice, and sent half a dozen ilat on their faces, but our bear- skins are too thick for us to care about tumbles. Here we are very snug. The ball to-morrow. " 2nd. The ball was great fun. We chose out all the In :Slfi K Mi ^1 Is 4 fi ^ ^1 1 ; 284 The Voyage of the Constance, tallest and roughest fellows on board to be ladles, and j'ou should have seen Allen's airs and graces. He is more than six feet high, and with two flags arranged as drapery ho looked wonderful. Our music was a fiddle and tambourine, played by Macleod and Peter. The tambourine Peter and I made out of a wooden hoop, with parchment stretched over it, and the bells off the ' Little Maggie.' Our ball- room was the deck, and in spite of the housing, which is now coated with snow besides, and the lamps, and all of us, it was not up to freezing-point; you may suppose, therefore, it would have been cold enough for ou. musicians if we had not made them an orchestra. It was somethinsr like a * Jack-in-the-green,' only large enough for two, and made of bear-skins instead of green boughs. They had a lamp inside, and an opening opposite to each for breath. There we could see Macleod's brown face as he played with all his might, continually bursting with laughter at our performances, and Peter's as grave and important as usual, while ho flourished and banged, and made artistic strokes with his thumb on his instrument, and criticised everything we did, you may be sure. " Suddenly, just as Ave were recovering our breath after the ' Haymakers,' came a sound of music of a difl'erent order. A few of those powerful, stirring chords w^e all know so well, made a prelude to ' Rule Britannia.' ^[y father had taken the fiddle in hand. Wo all sung it in chorus, then ' God save the Queen,* and our New Year's- day was ended. " I am going to work hard now all the rest of my time. When spring comes I have numbers of sketches to make, and we have ([uantities to do in the observatory. I mean to be something like an astronomer when I come home. *' I must tell some of the extraordinary sights we have n Winter in Lancaster Sound. 285 seen. One night the moon seemed to stand on a column of light that rested on a hill ashore. Another she looked all notched round the edges, and often cut half off. We have had two or three splendid exhibitions of parhelia, or mock- moons, as the sailors say. Four smaller moons set in a circle of light round her. " Strange things happen, too, of all kinds. When we first go into the observatory with our lamp, there is a fall of snow inside. Our metal instruments, when we take them out bright enough, are covered with hoar- frost in a minute. There are sounds of strange moans and groans about the ship that make one think of Peter's ghost stories. Then the food ! He might make his sawdust puddings now, if he was on short allowance. But he isn't, for we have plenty of everything. All the meat has to be sawn up ; butter and lard require a chisel and mallet ; the brown sugar is cut in large slices. The lamp-oil no longer re- quires a barrel ; it stands alone, looking like a sandstone roller for a gravel walk. I could go on telling such things for an hour." The cold increased, and the thermometer fell to 30" below zero before the end of January. The long darkness began to tell on them all, and they said very often to one another, "How white you look!" February was usliered in by a violent storm. The ice in their harbour continued immovable, but they could see, by the crimson light that now began to glow in the south about noon, a terrible commotion beyond the headland. The force of the storm had broken the ice in some places, and enormous blocks of it seemed to heave up against the sky in black hills, then sink again, and tlio whole scene melt into night, while the wind raged, and a sound like one continuous peal of thun- der reverberated round the ship. y in -i 286 The Voyage of the Constance. How often did Edward look round at tlie contented faces in the comfortable cabin as he sat by his father, and think what they must have suffered in this dreadful season in their hut ! How grateful was his heart that they were saved ! CHAPTER XXIX. SPRING IN LANCASTER SOUND. *' Feb. 8th, 1855. — You must try to fancy us all out on tlie ice, every man of us except John, who is at the mast-licad; and Peter, who stands near the ship's bell. It is clear weather, but there are some heavy clouds. Tliey are deep black and bright crimson. The sky behind them in the south is gold. It flashes — it grows dazzling. Eight bells tell us it is twelve o'clock. "'Sun in sight!' shouts John, and next minute the vards arc manned, and we crive a loud cheer as the first rays dart through the air. Slowly ho rises ! We do not know at home what a blessing the sun is, ]\raggie, dear !" The sun that rose that day soon set again ; but every day he rose earlier and set later, till day and night became equal, then day lengthened and lengthened, and became perpetual. But during February and March the cold did not abate, it even increased. The air pierced like a sword. You could see that it was filled with small particles of ice that dazzled the eyes with their brilliance, and rayed out all the colours of tlic rainbow when the sun shone. At every rise of temperature came storm, snow, and fog. Towards the middle of March there was a change for the better. The days lengthened. Football on the ice be- le contented s father, and sadful season at tliey were all out on the ic mast-head; . It is clear rhey are deep them in the [ Eight bells minute the as the first We do not rro-ie, dear !" ; hut every nin-ht became and became the cold did like a sword. Birticlcs of ice ■and rayed out Bi shone. At and fog. I~ a change fov 1 Spring in Lancaster Sound, 287 came a popular game. Ski Ling began again. The pieces of sculpture near the ship, Eernhill, the cathedral, had all vanished long since, carried away by the storms, but no more were built up. Hopes of a break-up, and getting out of harbour, had begun to take too much possession of every mind for that. One fine day, about this time, the man on watch re- ported " Esquimaux ashore." Presently Olaf was seen in front, driving his team of dogs, and by his side a lady. Behind came more sledges, with men, women, and chil- dren. A deputation from the ship went to meet the bride and bridegroom, and bring them on board, and with them, by Olaf 's request, the chief and one or two more. Olaf was evidently very proud of his wife, and with reason. She was really pretty for an Esquimaux girl, and behaved with great decorum. He must have given J her many instructions before bringing her, for she kept by his side always, and looked at him as if for direction on every occasion. They were feasted handsomely, drank gallons of water, and at last were allowed to invite the rest of their party on board, because Edward wanted to take por- traits of the bride and the chief. Olaf he had before. Ko succeeded very well with his lady-sitter, but nothing could keep the chief still, till John, recollecting Parry's contri- vance on a similar occasion, sat down opposite and placed himself in a dignified attitude, looking very grave. Imme- diately the chief mimicked him, and sat without moving as long as he did, to the great diversion of tho sailors who were by . Meanwhile Macleod, who was on deck in charge of the party that had been invited on board, had begun bitterly to repent this act of hospitality. After eating and drink- ing to an extraordinary amount, they had begun roamin 1 \ J !'ii n M •»' O i<\ \l 288 The Voyage of the Constance. about noisily, pushing into every corner, toucliing every- thing, and a few of tliem stealing what little things they could lay hands on. No detective oflScer, however, could have watched them more narrowly than Peter, who re- covered everything they took. They were not the least ashamed of being found out, and only went into fits of laughtp ". Peter brought Olaf up, and asked him why he did not teach them better. Olaf was quite in grief about it, and said such severe things to the thieves that they hung their heads and looked very disconsolate, and one woman stood wiping her eyes on a bird-skin. Olaf was evidently a great man among them, and he told Peter he was trying to teach them what the missionaries had taught him. So far, how- ever, apparently, without much success. Edward came up with his father while all this was going on, and they both encouraged Olaf to persevere, and saw so much about him that pleased them that a sudden idea for his good occurred to Captain Armstrong. Calling up Philip Stewart, Wilson, and all of his men that he could collect, he told them of it, and meeting with hearty approbation, summoned Olaf be- fcre him, gave him exact directions how to find the hut, and entire possession of it and all its stores. Olaf's grati- tude was unbounded, and his wife, when made to under- stand, was in a rapture of joy. In order to spread cheer- fulness among the rest of the party, John and Edward ransacked their stores and gave a present to every one, but as they had very few left, these presents were often only some iron hoop, staves of old barrels, and such things. They were, however, received with unbounded joy, laughter and jumping, as usual. " What shall I give to the children ?" said Edward to Peter. " I have not a single toy remaining." Sp ring in id Edward to Lancaster Sound. 280 '' Give -em a lump of yellow soap a-piece," said Peter. It s sugar-iilums to thnn." The steward was set to work to cut up some bar. of dehght Then- guests took their leave with expressions of gratitude, and told Olaf to say they would never for-et the white men. ° _ Poor Olaf shed many tears when lie bid sood-bye He said ho knew the ship would be gone before he came that way agam. They promised him to tell his people at Uper- navik, if they touched there, that he was "alive, and bappv and nch. ' TJiese were his words, and so ho drove aw.; With his httle wife. Before the end of the month the housing was taken down and the decks left open to the air. The boats, sails and stores were shipped ; the men worked in lir^hter clothing ; and frequent observations were taken from the mast-head seaward. There was a sudden rise of temperature on the 2nd of April. The thermometer was one degree above the freezing-point. It was too warm to skate, so Edward started with his flither, John, Allen, and Philip, for a walk ashore. Everything was wet ; they sank in tlie soft snow, and long icicles that fringed the rocks were dripping 011 their heads. They felt exhausted with the heat. While they rested John had his glass at his eye. "Brown clouds on the horizon! Open w^^iter there !" he cried. Every one looked, and agreed that it was so. " What is that dark mass on the ice ? '' asked Ed- ward. " It seems to move." " Another good sign for us," replied his father. *• Rein- 19 f' n A t. ' ; f i 1 ( 'i i \ f: ! ?; 290 The Voyage of the Constance, deer migrating northward. Their instinct [teaclics tlicni there is no time to lose." The party watched till a large herd of deer were dis- tinctly seen passing steadily on, turning to neither right nor left till they gained the shore and still held on. Only a few stragglers >vere left behind. Captain Armstrong had left off watching thcra, and was lookino: seawards aixain. He called to the others to observe the frost-smoke in throe different places, a sure sign of leads in the ice. Tlie appearance is simply a cloud of vapour rising from the water, and looks like the smoke from a bonfire. They walked on for some miles, passed a second head- land, and descended again towards the shore. Edwjxrd had lingered behind in a cave under the cliffs, in front of which icicles of enormous lengtli formed a great fringed curtain or canopy, now studded at every point with water- drops, which glittered in the sun, and fCl with a plashing sou?id at his feet. He made a sketch of it, then tore it up as a lamentable failure, and ran out to join his companions. Before he reached them, however, he stopped again. Six or eight conical elevations in the ice, a little way from the shore, puzzled him. Strange soi-'nds issued from them, and as he looked the cones seemed to grow, and began to steam. *' Allen !" he cried, " do come here." Allen ran back to jhim ; at the same time Peter, who was out with a shooting-part}^, came up. Neither had ever seen anything of the kind before. Allen said they looked like the mud volcanoes of Mexico. Peter said the sound was exactly like a whale whistling. " A whale whistling 1" said Edward. " llow can you believe in such nonsense, Peter?" " Haven't I heerd it myself, many a time r" haid Peter. [teaches them 3cer were clls- "n either right eld on. Only .rm strong had iwards again, moke in throo he ice. The ling from the '0. second head- 3re. Edward [fs, in front of great fringed it with water- th a plashing len tore it up I companions, i again. Six :Ie way from d from them, ind beo^an to B Peter, who Neither had 3n said they Dter said the low can vou " !-aid retc']'. Sp'-i'is: h, Lancaster Souna. ^.. Saddenlytwoofthe cones bpo.n,w„ . the vapour, tl,en another t o ^ th '" "r"*"' "'*'' crumbled, broke up, and fel i„ ™ ' " , ''™*''''' '^^'^ whales were seen fl;un,W L^ ^^'^^^ ''''Z "' -'- soon as the mystorv \vo« n^^i ■ i / ^^"® ^^ .rave and ^^^..^1^2:^^^'' ^i^'ZZ:-^ narwhales were most amusin.. and vT T ! ° nea him. They had stopped now, however ind wnv every side. It was strange that E.-iuimanx should Jnve first "bT:, *'"' ""''^- '"'^^ '' ' «» *'-3' «'o4 t first. But there were no signs of tlie life of those pool -ar. No du-t, or offensive sights and odours. These ] us were deserted. "'^ Edward said he would go and sketch an interior-a good opportunity; so he crawled in at the openin. pa a^e after cleanng away the snow that blocked it°up "nd emerged mto the chamber at the end of it ; Tride'it fol- owed ,, but after a minute returned to the entrance and howled dismally, then ran in again. Taking alarm. Captain Armstrong went in and saw a dreadful .sight. The hut was not empty ; it was inhabited not by the hvmg, but the dead. By the dim light tliat en- tored at the passage, and a small hole in the roof, he sa^y eight dead bodies. They were clothed in their usual dress -the father, mother, and four children, and a very old »an and woman, probably the grandparents. Tiie younoest child was in its mother's hood. Some were Ivin.-, some i 4 I ' ■ i^,. ■: I '«■: 292 The Voyagt? of the Constance. sitting on the floor, in the attitude of life. Tlieir dog' lay stiff beside them. Edward was 1 cnninG; asfainst the wall, his face nearly as pale as tlie faces of the dead. It was a very little place, not above eight feet each way ; and the ghastly sight, and heavy, sickening air, had nearly made him faint. His father lost not a moment in dran:o:mq; him out, and he soon recovered his breath and his senses, but not his good spirits. '' What," he asked, " could have killed them?" The horror was increased when, on examining the other hufs, John and Philip found that there were four dead bodies in one and nine in the other. Captain Armstrong's opinion was that cold must have been the cause of this horrible calamity, for the people were not emaciated ; and, besides, he had observed a large piece of walrus-flesh in a corner [of the hut he entered. The people had probably died in winter, and been preserved by the cold from decay. Having closed the entrances witli stones and snow, the party left these dismal tombs, with a feeling of relief when they were out of sight. But Edward could not recover himself: he was oppressed with thoughts of the misery these poc people had suffered, and with a sort of shudder- ing imagination of how narrowly his father and all his crew had escaped the danger of a like fate. He was la^Cfinu: behind, when John hailed him and beckoned him on. Some change of weather seem.ed at hand. The wind rose, and with it large flakes of snow came wet and cold against their faces ; it was like English snow, as Edward said, and it chased away his gloom ; for it told of milder weather, and brought hopes of home again. No such snow had fallen all winter; it h'^d always been small, hard, and ing the other •e four dead Spring in Lancaster Sound. 203 icy They were soon nearly Winded, and a little uncertain of the way. It was only by keeping steadily i„ a line behmd John tha they held together, and even then thc^ got mto many hollows and pools ; so that at last they were very glad to hear yoiec. hailing them, and to find thev were near the ship. Thoy were mot with news that the sportsmen had brought in two rein-deer, and had found traces of musk oxen. Something fluttered and fell at Edward's feet, as he passed along the snowy deck ; it was a dovekoy He picked It up, and tlic sight was hniled by every one " The birds are coming back !" was called from one to another. Ihis solitary one was much exhausted. Edward took it to his cabin, and tried to make it eat and drink, but he could not. He tJicn laid it in one of the boats, and put some pieces of fish by it. ]^^oxt morning it was gone, and it had eaten some of the food. Edward enjoyed walking on the once more open deck. The fresh snow that had fahen had covered all tliat had been trodden by passing feet and all inequalities near the ship with one sheet of pure ,hite. "Are ye listening to the snow-birds, Mr. Edward?" said Macleod. jSTo ; Edward was admiring the fretted silver on the rigging : but now he heard a sweet sound of chirping, and, looking higher, saw the pretty snow-buntings tliat had arrived in the night fluttering about and ^resting on the spars and ladders. The little things were very tame, and came down for the food he strewed for them; and it was seldom, after this morning, that some of these flutter- ing visitors were not to be seen. But a succession of storms followed the rise of tempera- ture, and lasted to the end of the month, breaking up the ice to seaward, where tremendous conflicts went on. When 1,^ i r ■ > ; j l^i ; S i ! ■' 294 The Vo)U{gc of the Constance. it was possible to climb to tlic topmast, or to stand on the clifls, it was a i^rand si^lit to see tlio war that rajred there. Blocks of ice forty or lifty feet in height would rise up, dash a<;ainst the lixcd ice near the shore, and, recoiling, Lreak into a thousand fraii'nients, lashino* the waves into fury. No wonder that a little ship, the work of men's hands, is now and then overwhelmed in such conflicts ! But no doubts or fears came over the watchers of these sights — nothing but the hope of speedy deliverance. The ice was breaking up sooner than usual : it was the end of April now. It was rational to believe that before May was over they might get out of harbour. All the signs of an Arctic spring were ahout them : the sun never set ; whales had been seen, seals were plentiful, ptarmigan had been shot in numbers ; and whenever they looked up, through the day or the night, the air Avas chef[uered with moving columns ; all the varieties of Arctic birds were in progress towards that mysterious northern ocean that Captain Armstrong believed in, and had so longed to reach ; the geese and eider-ducks, and every variety of gulls, could be distinguished in myriads, and now and then a flock of wild swans. By the middle of May the ship was in sailing order, the boilers hlled, and a constant watch kept up for openings in the ice. By the 27th it had become so thin, even in the harbour, where the stillness prevents its breaking up, that John ordered up the ice-saws and all the gear for cutting out, to be ready at a moment's notice. After Peter and his mate had brought them up, Peter asked leave to go for a tramp ashore, with a small party, to shoot deer or any game they could find. It might be the last chance before getting out, he said. Permission was granted, and the party set out about three in the afternoon. They had stand on tho : raged there. j\M rise up, 1(1, recoiling", ) waves into Jvk of men's ch conflicts ! icrs of these 3rance. The as the end of ore May was 3 signs of an ' set ; whales m had heen Tip, through vith movinir ) in progress hat Captain 3 reach ; the dls, could be flock of wild liling order, for openings even in the ing up, that .' for cutting 3r Peter and ,ve to go for ieer or any ance before ed, and the They had Spn?ig in Lancaster Souna. :>^^ iiot returned at the evening n.uster, at half-past nine t seemed strange, but no one was uneasy except Edwa " he wondered very .nuch that Peter, whose strong sense of duty he knew so well, and who was, besides, very proud Ins pm.ctuahty, should not have come in, considoHn. he work that nnght have to be done, nobody could teirhow soon, in cuttmg out of harbour. When ten o'clock came and every one w.ts turning in for the night, and still no tidings of he party came, his flxther and John began to feel alarmed, and four of the men were ordered out to look for them, Mr. Wilson volunteering to take the command it was known that the deer were to be found to the west- ward, so there was no doubt which way to go. About two in the morning Edward awoke, and got up to ask the watch on deck if the party had come in. He met his f\ither on the companion-ladder. The party had not come in, nor had Mr. Wilson's returned. *' They must be lost on the ice somehow," said Edward. " Has it opened between them and us, so that thev cannot get back ?" "^ "That is exactly my idea," said his flither. "Ihave ord(3red up the gutta-percha boat, and am going off directly, with four more men to look after them." "Without me?" " JN'o, my boy ; I was on my way to call you." " Thank you, father ! Cannot we take the sledo«e and doo's '' " The snow is impracticable for a sledge. We must walk." They walked fn-^ with a high west wind in their faces, more and more alarmed by the aspect of the ice, which had parted from the shore all along the coast. After two weary hours, they saw some men rapidly approaching. M 296 The Yoynge of the Constance. El] ward, who was a very swlffc runner, started forward to inccfc them. '' A boat ! ]lun back and order a boat !" they shouted. '' We have got one !" shouted Edward in return. The men waited for the advancing party, and proved to be tliree of those wlio went with^^fr. Wilson. Their re- port was full of fear : it had been a long time before they could find Peter Grcely and the men with him ; at last they discovered them far out on the ice, wandering along the edge of the water; and between them and the shore was a dark, wide channel ; worse than all, it Avas evidently widen- ing, and the whole body of sea-ice drifting to seaward. There was nothing for it but to press on. They walked mile after mile. To Edward's impatient spirit it seemed that man}' hours passed. They often lost sight of the sea by taking short cuts behind the rocks: then it seemed worse than ever. At last, as they cnme out behind a low bill thai had hid it for some time, they saw ]\Ir. Wilson and another man walking towards them, and a party of four, far out across the dark water. The boat was in the water in a minute. Captain Armstrong got in. Edward would fain have gone, but bis father called one of the sailors to go instead, remind- ing Edward that his arms were not so strong as the sailor's, and tJiat the boat had to return, and would not carry more than six. Those left on the beacli A>.-alL*hed tlie boat as it neared the ice ; then they plainly saw one of the men taken on board. Afterwards there was confusion and delay, and it was evident that one, if not all the rest, had been dashed into the water. There were five minutes of intense anxiety ; then the boat put off, and began to move towards them. They breathed again. .(! .; ! 1! forward to cy slioutcil. urn. and proved Their re- beforc tlicy at last they g along the shore was a iiitly widen- 3a\vard. 'hey walked , it seemed b of the sea . it seemed ihind a low Wilson and rty of four, Captain but d, remind- he sailor's, arry more it neared taken on |lay, and it jen dashed le anxiety ; Irds them. gone, Spring In Lancaster Sound. 297 But silently and sadly the boat approached llio shore, and as it came nearer Edward triod in vain to count the proper number in it. One was wauiiu'^ " Where is lY'tor ?" ho cried, wildly. Poor Peter lay motionless and pale in the bottom of the boat. They coukl not tell what had happened to him. The ice had broken as thoy took the second man aboard, and all had gone into the water, but the otiicrs clambered in. Peter Greely must have struck his head on a tongue of ice under w\ater, foi* he would have sunk if they had not pulled him out by the hair of his hea^"'. Edward knelt by the side of his old friend, loosened his cap, and pressed his hands ; but Peter continued insen sible. Mr. Wilson examined him, and found a contusion and slight wound on the temple. It was necessary to carry him back to the ship. " Lay him in the boat," said Captain Armstrong. " Wo six are fresh, and able to carry it. Quick, my lads ! Help him in, and lay him carefully. We have no time to lose." They went steadily on, Mr. Wilson's party insisting on relieving Captain Armstrong's sometimes ; tired as they were, they would not suffer him and his men to ber^r the burden all the way : but his seamen refused to give up. At last the weary way was passed. It was nearly twelve o'clock. The last party had been out eight hours, the others twenty-six, and poor Peter's forty-two. What a contrast did the harbour present to their silent burden ! The anchors were heaved up, the " Constance " had moved out of the bed in which she had lain for nine months, her steam w\as up, and slowly and with careful steering she moved along a lane of water sawn in the ice. The sawing was going on continually a little ahead of her. The pieces of ico-, as they were cut out, were broken up imm i I: vM I V'i 298 The Voyage of the Constance. and sunk, or floated off past her. Jolm was on deck, in tlie midst of the busy hands, directing everything in con- cert with Macleod. Philip emerged from the group, and sent a "boat along the lead to bring the returned party on board, waiting to receive them at the gangway. " I congratulate you, my captain ! — my dear Edward ! The ice is opening fiist outside. We are afloat. But what is it? — something is the matter !" John hurried up at this moment, with a face full of excitement, to welcome his uncle and express his joy at the sight of the men who had been missing; but, like Philip, he stood aghast at the sight of poor Greely Ij^ing on deck, .still quite unconscious. John talked aside with Wilson for a few minutes. " You arc all exhausted with fatigue and this disaster," said he. "Allen will take the charge of our poor Greely from AVilson ; and you, ]31ack and Trail, see that Captain Armstrong and all the returned party are properly refreshed. Get a good breakfast up instantly ; then they must all turn in. You wall try to sleep," he said, turning to his uncle ; '■ and you, also, Edward. We are going on as well as pos- sible, and shall keep on steady at our cutting-out till six o'clock. To-morrow morning, if all goes well, we shall bo out of the bay." "Let Greely be carried down to my berth," said Ed- ward to Allen. " Where shall you be ? You are tired out." " On tlio floor ])y him. He must not be left alone, and he must be ([uiet. You will stay by him till I have had somelliiiiu" to eat?" All was done according to these arrangements; and then, after ascertaining that nothing more could be done for Peter yet, and trying in vain to rouse him^ Edward lay down 1," said Ed- 'fc alone, and I Lave liad _ Spn»s in Lancaster Sound. „„„ cabin, and sleptlu!::. """' "'" ^-"'"'^ '^^ ^^ '- But he started up, after many kour« win +> feel,Kg of violent pitelunn- and ro i;,r ' ' "''^ engine at v,ork, t\i dasu°of t^, °' , " '"""^^ "^ *''<^ f^e ice, tLe rapid erdt . * Z2^' "™^''"=" "^ ay .'■' and song of the sean>en '^ """^*"°' "^^-' "The captain wants you" Wul P.f^ ^ r ^^ "l^e;sWioo,.n>for,J Go l; to'd:,^ '^^"^'^ ^'"'^^^ spcaU ':::: L^:^:' ''^'"- ^'- '^-^^ - - ^ .ou can Peter closed liis evo*^ inrl f „.,. i ;^w.edchee.j::-it:i:ii.^^r^^^ on thcu>, much as they had done and suffered to.e I He the hammo k, and fost and hot las own tears fell on it. G od bless you. Master Edward-you and j-our father - oS^rr^f"^^^'^"'^-'--- ^^"" 'Hahe^are of the w'i?^ziirJ:i::',rdi^?' "°' '-'-' — "Go up no,v; I ,vant for notlm,.. They're all very l^.n.l to me. Jiut yonll come haek presently; you're like a son ,0 nre. I'n, goin.o. to sleep now." _Wul.p .. opearcd at that luoment, and said he would re- mam m ta,vara'.s place, if he would go up to his father. ills ui ner, m a rougl, coat, dripping with the salt water that was dasued over the deck every n.inuie, hurried to nice hun as h,s head rose to the deck, and made him hold last by his arm. Edward looked up and around. Clouds were scudding over the sky before the wind; sea-birds Mappea their wings and shrieked on the frowuing clilfs of tlie headland they were passing ; the masts stood up tall ' . • 4 ■i; ! » Fl 5 S and bare, and a cloud of smoke issued from tlio funnel. The break-up had come. Tlicy were steering through zigzag leads of open Avater. Astern was a track of sea, some fifty yards across ; ahead, a wandering lane, little wider than the bows, encumbered with floatino- fragments of ice that were heaved and dashed ngainst her by the waves. The " Constance " was fairly on her homeward voyage. CHAPTER XXX. COXCLUSIOX. It was the 2Hth of July, IS-^i^, mid a breezy morning, when, at about seven o'clock, Margaret and her Aunt Mary were seated on the rocks by the shore near Aber- deen, o-azinQ" over tlie sunnv sea. Both of themlookci'i 'id., It seemed strange to see on that young face a look of clvo and thought, but ]\[aggie's had that expression, and she had grown taller b}' more than a year since she bid Edward good-bye. Tlicy sat silent for some time, then she said — " Three days only to August now." "Yes, but you must not expect them in August. It is too much to hope. September is the earliest we ought to think of." " Sometimes I cfct so sad about mamma. Aunt Marv. Are you ever anxious about her P" ]\Iiss Armstrong did not know how to answer. She only looked T)itviiiu'lv into Afarfraret's face. " Then von are fritzhtcncd, too ! I do not believe she e^er sleeps at all. She was awake when I came out tliis morning, and if I ever awake in the night, her eyes are alwnys open. Then, how thin she has become ! And she hardly cats anything. She tries to eat and cannot, and tries that we should not observe it." tliG funnel, ng through rack of sea, : lane, little I'agments of 'f the waves, ircl voyage. :;y morning, 1 her Aunt near Abcr- 1 looktici " ^d.. look of ei.ro and she had bid Edward she said — I gust. It is ve ought to Aunfc ]\Iarv. 4/ T. She onlv believe she ne out tliis ler eyes are ! And slie cannot, and i Conclusion. i tluuk she wou d bo botto,. If .i » "i"" Uil. never does. 01, if aJ' ,\ " "omplaaied, but she T 1 ■„ ' ■> """"''^ ''nt come Iiom,. i 7 7 Johu will not lose a moment K„ 1 '^ ''°""' ■ 1 know for haste; but with alT ■,! ; ■'"' *'"' "'"^ «'«'•«'« ™ay not be able '' "" '° '^'''"^" ^'^^ luickl,, he Margaret was silent for some time ■ +l,„ i , 1-ad on her aunfs shoulder a^ s "T " ' \ '"■""'' ''"' before winter, I don't know wli iu t^^T^Tr tears flowed fast. ".ippcn : and her Miss Armstrong was very kind and genilo to ]„>,. n 1 -on persuaded her to move l.omewards. % W l, ' !; J I'll "^'^"^ '^'^^ 'ounu ner mani7rin wl,r> b.ghtiutho room; everything outward was cheerful- a souow. Ho^v many months-long, .voary monfhs-Ind passed away su.ce little Launcy brought his messa.-o ho e -Hi each one, as it dragged on, had seemed to ntal he sorrow the more difliiadt to bear ! wn,^"' ^f"^'' ''"•"' '"• ^''" '"^ '''°'^"' mclaneholv, and was much more silent than he u.sed to be. "I have been reading an article on the dreadful news that reached us last autumn of Sir John Franklin," said Mrs. Armstrong. II ^oi a good subject for you, my dear Constance." It makes no difference to me, Sir Ilagh. I cannot hear or read anything so dreadful ofship^Tccks, deaths, or starva- tion, that something more drcadfal still lias not baon in my li W \ .iS! 1.:^ ■(1 302 T'he Voyage of the Constance. tliouglits clay and nig-lit for long. Lady Franklin has watclied and snfTered for ton years ; at length comes certainty : which is the most (HfTicult to bear, the doubt or the certainty ?" It was seldom she said anytliing that so betrayed her feeling, and sbe coloured after it as if she reproacliod her- self. Sir Hugh tried to make her see that doubt even yet hung over the fiite of Franklin. " A party of Esquimaux were met on the western shores of Boothia by Dr. Rae, and these Esquimaux told him that a party of white men, amountingto about fort}^, haddiedof hun- ger near the great Fish lliver, on the shores of North America. *' Ah ! we should not believe such a report from sucli evidence, only ?'\^t +hey had in their possession 30 many articles evidently ' donging to Franklin and his officers and crew. Silver forks and spoons, witli their crests and mottoes, and numbers of other things, some broken up, but all, undoubtedly, out of tlio two missing sliips." "That is quite true. We know to a certainty that Franklin did not sail northward from Beechey Island, but soutliward. He must have passed down Peel Sound, and have too much reason to believe that a party from his ships has perislied ; but whether the ' Er. /,;us ' and 'Terror' were wrecked, or still remain in tlie ice ; whether he him- self and all his crcAv have i)erislied — you know they amounted to one hundred aiid forty — no one yet knows, for no one has visited the spot." *' Ten years have passed. Oh ! I cannot but believe all have perished." " It is too likely, too likely," said Sir Hugli, in a tone of deep feeling. " Mamma," said Margaret, who wished to prevent her from thinking of this most mournful news, " will not papa and John be happy to hear that Captain Kcllett and Cap- t believe all in a tone of Conclusion. tain M'CIure, and tlie cro^v of the 'T r ^°'' safe home?" w ot the Inyeshgator,' camo 'I Yes, indeed, dear, they will." " Bo yon know, Mao-o-if, " „.,vi i, , ,, Greely is here ? Sh^ "" ' , , "' ^^'''^' " '''«' Mr.. yisnere. hhe arrived last nirfit." How kind and thou-.l,tfnl von are ■^;,. TT i . pose her comin- 1" said AT,.. A . ' '"^' *° P™" terself. " Yo^ think of^ A..mstrong, tryin, to recover " T d,.M ,-, . ''^'"Ttlung for ns all." I shad .so hke to see her, and ask her about T. and everything. I .shall find her after breakSf T"' such a talk !" cried Ma...ie *' ^"'' '''''^■'^ an;S'S::.^;'-:;:^:S^-ndheanti.,, garden „''.,11 of flowers ^h^ ! f , ■'"'''""= *''° t.e .illage that hrUfnd 2;f lo^l^S ^" -Pty now, and she hopes he will lake ^1:: ^^^ Mrs. Armstrong rose, and wont to ti,e window, where thero was a fine sea view, and where a teleseope stood She satlookmg throngh it, as she often did, and continued looking for .some time. " I^ t''««-o anything particular to see, mamma ?" asked luargaret. Mrs Armstrong did not answer at first. Then she said onlj, "Is this Tuesday?" "No, mamma; Wednesday." "Not the day for the Inverness steamer ?" " No, it came in yesterday." " How nervous Constance is to-day !" said Miss Arm- strong to Sir Hugh. " See how her hand shakes !" A loud ring was Iicard at the gate at this moment. Im- mediately afterwards Mark threw open the door of the room, and said — ri-;. ! !'' «! ';?;( ' 1 ' \- MH, !■ 304 The Voyage of the Constanee. " Sir Ilugli, t].cy have come from tlic pier to say that tlie * Constance' is in sight, to the northward." Margaret rushed to lier mother, who had nearly fallen on the floor. But she (quickly became calm, and was seated in the carriage as soon as it could he got ready. They all four went together. They drove to the pier, but left the carriage, and went up on the height above directly, Mrs. Armstrong walking with more strength than she had pos- sessed for months. The ship was now visible by the naked eye ; a speck in the distance. The news had spread, and a number of people had collected ; but everyone respected the group on the height. No one went near them, except one old sailor, whom Sir Hugh hud asked to keep by them, because his greater experience enabled him to see quicker, and report more accurately as tlie ship came on. " She's comin' on ten knots an hour at the very Icasto She'll be in by twelve o'clock." Mrs. Armstrong wlii.^pered something to Margaret. *' Can you see any flaiis flying ?" asked she of the sailor. " I canna say. She's got her steam up, and a gude crood o' sail besides. She's a lucky ship, and has made gude speed. It's no that common a thing for a ship to come in frae tlie ice before July's set. She'll ha' fund the ' Pole-Star's' crew last autumn, I'm thinkin'." '"Surely I see something red fluttering?" said Mar- garet, ibr whom the sailor held the telescope. '• Oh, ay ! She's a' decked out i' colours, red, blue, and white, a' up the ropes 1" Words of rapture and gratitude went up to heaven from the trembling figure beside Margaret, but no one heard them but the young girl who had clung close to her mother. " Thank God ! thank God !" said Sir Hugh ; " they are Conclusion. all safe ! I frust, I believo \n u ^ ^^^ Armstrong, a™ ;„ , -I'lJ^ttL ^""^' ''^-^ ""^ ^«- ;T].ere's a large crew aboard," said the sailor „ As many as sixty ?" asked Sir Huc^h -I caniia say ; but it looks like it" qi,^' weel; and weel she mast ha- com 1 H T"^ °" that Lieutenant Armstrong !" ^' ' '^ ^'^^^' '«^. Nearer and nearer came the shJi-, <ai l instant. A pilot bnnt »Z i , . " '*°PP'='^ f""- M alongside .nd tl e n 1 ! T , '''''"' °" *'"^ °"a°°k shot ,,s.ae, ana the pilot was talcen on board All „ u plainly see the moving fin.„vp, nf , ^" """''^ were^ivt,. ,.„= ='"^''' °'^""'" o° board now. There lft?a tte th'"^ "''^* """"-^° ^"'''^ *'"' -il- ..asses towai^ls :• s.ioit Vl^":;!" "'*''»: /■^"™«'^ with something white in it *'"" ™'"'' '"^ ''""'^ lnsl™'.'::nt"' T''"^''-''-'-' Ikno-tliemovementof '".^ arm ! said Mrs. Armstrong, in a whisper. She had no n ; ] °'' '"' ''^"" '"^^ '' "^'o^^s about in the wind " And he IS waving his cap to us !" said Mao-gie • and " f f ^« John that took off his cap last ! I know it And I see 1 ndent ,- he is jumping on Edward. And there are other dog-s." Mark Grecly was mounted on the mast of a ship in the Larbour. Had he seen his father ? Margaret tried to find mm out, but could not. The ship was steering for the mouth of the Dee The tide served to bring her up to the pier. The men were ready with ropes to haul her up. She was very near now. The sails were furled ; the engine's speed was 20 is! !U ir ''I ^ ■ 306 7"/;^ r<3y(7Fi.' of the Constance, slackened. Sir Hugh led Mrs. Armstrong down to tlio end of the pier, and Margaret and her aunt followed ; every one stood aside to leave them a clear ])lace. Cheers sounded from the shore, and ^vere answered from the ship. Many names were called and answered ; " And are yo weel ?" " Better nor I ever was i' ray life !" "And are ye come hame again ?" " Oli, ay ! Is a' weel at hamc ?" A tremulous voice in an English accent was heard now, calling for *' Peter Greely !" " All right, old woman !" and a long weather-beaten face, rather pale, butpooking as grave and important as when he sailed away, looked over the side. They were "All right!'* Not one was lost but poor Tom Bolt, and he was an English- man. No heart there would be saddened for his sake. The " Constance*' was moored to the pier. A plank ■was thrown across, and tlie bands of her husband and her son were stretched out from the ship to guide Mrs. Arm- strong on board, IMargarct following her. Tliey led her below instantly. No one intruded on that meeting. John bounded across i\\G gangway to Sir Hugh and Miss Armstrong, and they returned with him to the deck ; then two sailors were stationed to give his rec^uest that no one else should come on board till Captain Armstrong and his family had left the ship. They did not Avait long. First the brother and sister came up, hand in hand, and Sir Hugh looked with delight at his favourite Edward ; then their ftither and mother. Mrs. Armstrong leaned on her husband's arm ; her other hand was locked in that of the young commander, who had brouGrht her treasures back to her. Then a cheer, such as had not been heard on that pier for many a day, rang tlirou'jh the air ; a cheer for the lost who wer-j (Linnl. 30/ APPENDIX, M'rril THE STORY OL- THE "FOX." elusion of my ntmy happcecUmec thodateof the con- When tlio " A'ssistance" and " Itcsolufo" were sent ont ;„ s™:;h?;^If Sh^'zt ""cl; r"' /■''„• '"°f^™°' -^^ «" they we?e aeeo.npani ,1 bv tl ^-'j '^ [i;.,'! 'rr,." -^^'"I."!™' M'C ure and the rc-mainclcr of tlio crew of the '• Ln.stiiat m- into t?0M^hanr"' ^^'7'''^ '^^^P^' ^""'^^'"' took the mitter a 1 On n f. , ' "^t ^''' '''^^'^' ^"^^ ^^ ^^^^'^'i'^ Kni^^laiul after al. On a fine Slimmer day an Ameriean vessel met the -Keso- n which ^l"^"'^^ f ''"/^" ?'''''' ^''' -- -'-^'^' in the order he7to A n'i '""i' f '^^ Joned. They took lier in toW and carried hei to America, hut tlie American Government boiK^lit her from ^"esenftro''''"v'"" '-'^ ^^ ^'^^' ^-^ " self, Mid"sent her as" nnr nn^ Q^i^;en \ ictorui. It was a pretty compliment on their part; and as to the - Kesolute," every one must own the good ship which wc also remember with gratitude for her rescue of Captain M'Clure, well desei-ves her name. The next event I have to record gave universal pleasure in jt-ngland. It was tlie safe return of ])r. Kane from Smith Sound. Ihe news did not reach Fmglnnd till the end of the year 185.5, and as he went out in ISo.J io that remote region in his little brig, the Advance," without any consort, there had been much anxiety about him. He had been obliged to abandon his ship in the ice, but by extraordinary energy brought his crew safe back in two boats, named the ♦' Hope" and the " Faith." They had dragged 3o8 Appendix. i:ht' II II their boats over ice from the 17th of May to the IDtli of June, nnd then launched them in the sea, -vvlicn at last tlie ice gave way, near Cape Alexander, and landed at Upernavik, in fircenland, on the J3rd of August. They liad lived eighiy-four days in the open air, and had endured extreme fatigue, hunger, and cold, and no- thing could have saved them from death but his having clotlicd them in skins, and taken some hints from the Ksquinuiux diet. They had embarked in a trader bound for Slietland, whi n an Ame- rican barque and steamer, .sent in search of them, hove in sight, and thev were received on board with iov, and taken to New York. Tliev had made extensive sledge- iouinevs in search of Franklin — fruithssly, of course ; but while making them, had delineated t)()0 miles of coast, and penetrated to wilhin tight degrees of the Pole : at which point two of Kane's company re})ort having seen o])en sea beyond the ice to the liorthward, with breakers dashing against the clifl's, and abounding in birds and animal life, but which they were totally unable to reach. ])r. Kane had become, through his most interesting accounts of his voyages, and his g( nerous enthu- siasm for Franklin, like a brother among us. and it was witli deej) sorrow that, not Iwng after his return, we heard of his early and lamented death. Meanwhile it seemed as if ])r. llae's melancholy news from the Great F'isli iiiver had quenched the desire for fuither search. Mr. Anderson, an ofiicer of the IIuds( n's liay Company, had in- deed been commissioned to visit Montreal Island and the nei^^h- bourhood, but he added very little information. He found a few more relics, and heard the same r<'])orts from the F]sqi;iniaux of the party of ^^hite men who had died of starvation. We come now to the " Fox." There were many ])( c pie in ]^ngland who felt that more sliould be done, and that an expedition ought to be sent to the site of the calamity that had befallen Franklin. Foremost among these was Lady Franklin. She wrote to Lord Palmerston in 185(5, urging upon him the error of trusting entirely to vague reports gleaned from the F^squiniaux ; reminding him that the " Erebus" and *' Terror" might still be entire among the ice — that some of their crew might yet exist among the natives — that at all events some more certain information might be gained of their fate — and in- treating that a ship might be sent out by Peel Sound. Not suc- ceeding, she completed her list of noble sacrifices in the cause, by taking the charge on herself, for the third time, and puichased the *' Fox" yacht, and engaged Captain M'Clintock to take the com- mand. * She had sent the " Prince Albert" twice in the hope of rescuing her husband ; the sad certainty as to his death. (t F'ox" w as to go only to gather tho appendix. 309 uno, nnd ive way, land, on the open and no- r clothed iiux diet, an Anie- in si^ht, .'W York, auklin — ■ [■at('dt)()0 ;hc Pole : ;ten open t? a|j;"aiiist iiich they rou^h his us eiithii- with deej) early and lews from ler search. y, had in- he nei'j;li- und a few imaux of )re sliould Isite of the Ithei-e was H), urnirg l:s n;leaned ,"bus" and of their lents some —and in- Not suc- cause, by [based the the com- |e hope of rather the Captain ^I'Clin'ioek had been well known in former Polar voyages, and was celebrated in Sir l-xlward Belcher's squadron for son\e extraordinary sled^-e journeys. The little ship in which he has accomplished this linal voyage was built at Aberdeen in 1856 by the well-known ship-builders, Messrs. ]IaU and Co., for Sir llichard Sutton, who, when he gave the order, said he did not want a racing-yacht, but a good strong ship for navigating the northern seas, as he meant to go to Norway, Iceland, and Spitz- ^ergen in her. No ex})eiiso was spared in lur construction, and she was fitted with a small pair of auxiliary engines, witli screws of fourteen nominal horse-power. Her general diineniiions are- length 122 feet, breadth 2i feet, depth 12^ feet ; her gross tonnage, 177 tons ; register, \o') tons. Sir llichard Sutton did actually go to Norsvay in her in the summer of 18J(), but he died suddenly soon after his return, and the " Fox" was left in the liands of the builders. Then it was that Captain M'Clintock ^ent down to view her, and gave such an opinion of her (the Halls at the same time strongly recom- mending her), tliat iiady Franklin made the purchase, and had her strengthened in every manner that tlie experience of Captain ^M'Clintock and the buiUiers could suggest. Tiiough she was f-old for half her value, and every economy consistent with strength observed in refitting her ; though the work was executed at prime cost by the builders; though Mr. llennie, of Aberdeen, managed all the business witJiout fee or reward ; and though Lieutenant Cunningham mtide her a present of a suit of his reefing gear, yet the equipment and despatching of the vessel must have cost Lady Franklin many thou>ands of pounds. The " Fox" left Aberdeen liarbour direct for the Arctic seas on the 29th of June, 1.S.37, a great number of people being col- lected to see her sail. Her crew consisted of twenty -three in all. Mr. Petersen, formerlj' with Dr. Kane, acted as interpreter, and was afterwards recognized by the Esquimaux at Ca])e York. By Captain M'Clintock's report to the Admiralty, it appears that he passed the first winter in the ice of Davis' Straits, reached Peel Sound in the summer of IS08, wintered in a harbour at tlie eastern entrance of Bellot Strait, and that it was in the spring of the present year that all the inipo. trnt discoveries he has made were accomplished by means of sL- i^i'-journeys. It aj^pears that he himself made a journey, accompanied by Petersen and the quartermaster, with two dog-sledges, so early as February, in very severe weather, during several days of which the mercury was frozen, towards the magnetic pole, in hopes of meeting with hlsquimaux, and that he was successful, having remained among a tribe of them for four days. He found these 310 Jlppcndix. ii s ''-:m 1 1, ■ ■ s ■ ' 1 >. ])coplo well supplied with wood and iron, which thrj- s'.iid they obtained from a hoat left hy tlio wliite men on the j^real. river. A iiliil). tlu-y s;iid, liad been eruslied by the iec off the north slioro of Kitiii^ William's Island, several years au:o, ))ut all her people buided sifely nnd went away to the Great ]''ish River, wlitre thry died. Some of the natives said a second ship had drifted ashore, nnd they pfot riches of all kinds out of the wreck. On the '2(1 of April the sledij;e journeys be^an in earnest, Cap- t'liii M'Cliiitock, Li(Utenant llohscm, aiid Ca])taiii V()ut)<^ tidviiipc ditfcreiit routes. The results are most important. The whole of the coast of Jioothia, hitherto unknown, was traversed ; Kinj^ William's Island, Point Of^^le, Montreal Island, and IJarrow I->l:in(l, ex])lor{'d ; and any I'sqiiimaux to be found within these limits visiteil and questioned; — the whole search lasting; till August. " The white men dropped by tlic way as they went towards the ^-rcat river;" — this was th;' account <;iven by the Kscpiimaux: and numbers of articles they ])ossessed showed that white men liad been anionic them; but it was not till the 2ltli of May, ten miles from Cape ilerscbel, that ('a])tain M'CUiutock's ])arty found a bleached skeleton, Avith fra,i,nnents of European clothing near it. Eleven years ago this ])oor man had " dropped by the way." Many cairns were found and searched lor records, in vain ; all seemed to have been disturbed, and tlie records removed by the imtives. Can this be beeause they were enclosed in tin case: '^ Written documents must surely have been valueless to tf ])eople. At last, on the ground between Capes Victory Cro/i( r, (lie daces of natives ceased; and here there were cairns undisturbed. It was near Point Victory that Lieutenant Hobson had pitched his tent, near a lari»-e one, when he found a small tin ease lying amotii; loose stones near the to]), which contained a written ncord, the substance of which is as follows :— " This cairn v/as built by the Franklin I'^xpedition upon tlie assumed site of James I loss's pillar, which had not been found. The 'Erebus' and 'Terror' spent their first winter at IJeechey Island, after having ascended Wellington C'hannel to lat. 77' N., and returned by the west side of Coinwailis Island. On the I'ith of September. 1S4G, thev were beset in latitude 7u' .V N. and longi- tude 9b^ T.V \\. Sir' John lu-anklin died on the 1 1th June, 1S47. On the '2'2d A})ril, ISjS, the ships were abandoned five leagues to the N.N.W. of Point Victory ; and the survivors, a hundred and five in number, landed here under the command of Captain Crozier." This paper was dated 2.jth April, 1848, and upon the following day they intended to start for the Great Fish Iliver. The total I M jlppetulix. 3" id tlicy vcr. A li shore people :ro tlioy , ashore f ■st, Cap- j takinj? vvhoki of L; King li arrow lin these tiug till towards ^iiimaux: liite men :May, ten rty found i<r near it. ay." vain ; all d hy the in case! ^ to tl- 3tory . re cairns t llohson small tin ntained a upon the en found, lev Island, ''N., and |e 12th of md longi- ^ine, 1S47. leagues to idred and f Captain I following IThe total loss hy deaths in tlie expedition up to this date was nine ollicers and tifteen men. A vast (|uantity of clotliing and stores of all sorts lay strewed about, as if hero every article was thrown away which coukl p()ssil)ly ho dispensed with — pickaxes, shovels, hoats, cooking utensils, iron-work, rope, blocks, canvas, a dip-eiicle, a Bcxtant engraved "Frederic Hornby, Ji.X.," a small medicine chest, oars, etc. A few miles southward, across Back liay, a second record was found, having been dc})osited hy J.icutenant (jore and M. Dca V(jeux, in May, IS 18. It afforded no additional information. Many a question anxiously asked for years is answered hy this record. It appeals that Franklin first tried the northern route, hut took the southern on his second season. That he died on board his own ship before the fatal necessity of abandoning her may, let us liope, bring some comfort to Lady Franklin. Apparently it was not long before disasters began among the retreating crevv^. "When in lat. G!)^ 9' X. and long. W 27' W.," says Captain M'Clintock, " we came to a large boat, discovered by Jiieutenant llobson a few days previously, as his notice inlorined me. It appears that this boat had been intended for the ascent of tlie Fish Itiver, but was abandoned apj)arently upon a return journey to the bhij)s, the skd^o uj)on which she was mounted being pointed in that 'direction. Slu measured 2S feet in knuth by 7t feet wide, was most careluUy fitted, and made as light as possible ; but the sledge was of solid oak, and almost as heavy as the boat. " A largo (]uantity of clothing was found within Iier; also two human skeletons. One of these lay in the after part of the boat, under a pile of clothing ; the other, which was much more dis- turbed, probably hy animals, was found in tlie bow. Five pocket- watches, a (juantity of silver spoons and forks, and a ffw nligious books were also found; hut no journals, pocket-books, or even names upon any article of clothing. Two double-barrelled guns stood upright against the boat's side, precisely as they had been placed eleven ye.irs before : one barrel in eack was loaded and cocked. There was ammunition in abundance ; also .'JOlbs. or 40lbs. of chocolate, some tea, and tobacco. Fuel was ii'^t wanting: a drift-tree lay within one hundred yards cf the boat." "We see, hy the contents of the boat, liiat neither cold nor hunger destroyed these men. It is Captain M'Clintock's opinion that the whole party had been much enfeebled by disease before they left the ship. They liad been three winters in the ice. We remember the enfeebled state of the " Investigator's" crew under similar circumstances. If the " llesolute " had not rescued them, 'If rp'i* 312 Appendix. and they had attempted their escape in their boats, it is probable their fate T^ould liave been equally terrible. No portion of the -wrecks of the •* Erebus" and " Terror" were discovered. The *' Fox" was p:ot out of harbour on the 9th of Au<?ust, and Captain M'Clintock's despatches, from the Isle of Wight are date d the 21st cf St pteraber. He has broufjlit home great numbers of the relics found in the cairns and the boat, or obtained by barter from the natives. He cIoscl^ his despatch by a warm eulogium on the entire devotion of his men to the cause which liady Franklin has so nobly sustained, without which so great a work could never have been accomplished by so small a crew. He says nothing of his own iatigue and endurance, but he tells us that Lieutenant Hobson was unable to stand when he returned from his sledge- journey, and that Captain Young suffered painfully from his excessive exertions. He mentions the death of four of his crew. It is, indeed, this steadfast perseverance, this entire devotion to duty, that redeems our history of Arctic adventure from the gloom that might otherwise settle over it. In spite of hardships and sufferings scarcely credible ; in spite of failure, peril, and death itself, iiave the crews of many a ship, for the space of three hundred years, gone resolutely on, and have at last conquered. All that England had required of them is done. The coasts OF TiiK Poi.Aii Seas are known ; THE North-west Passage is DISCOVERED; AND THE FATE OF THE FrANKLIN EXPEDITION IS ASCERTAINED. \H il :'! THE END. BABBILD, FBIMBB, LOMDOK. 'I 3 probable Tor" were ijiust, and ^ig-ht are t numbers tained by the entire in has so ever have ug of his jcutenant is sledge- from his his crew, devotion from tlie liardships )eril, and e of three onqucred. E COASTS AS SAGE IS DITION IS wr,m.<imKm9^mmmimm!a9ill!!!W99ll9t