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 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» 
 
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 ;. 
 
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 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 
 
 
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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- 
 
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 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 
 
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 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. 
 
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 Ti . , •>'^' oj tnc LoHstancc. 
 
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 r™"""' '•'■'' ".^'". nu,;, ,. : ,r - r'"*'- "■■■"' --h 
 
 
 '"' ""• -i"3- .>. AU1,„ , ,, " "'■ ""- -'J H,en to look 
 '••'^; ;'•'- --I>i.l.s 1 :lf"''''^ '''"'- ••'■•-luito unlike 
 
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 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- 
 
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 iicJood, 
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 ciic'o. 
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 It'Uts, 
 
 nfno- 
 
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 olcnt 
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 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* 
 
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 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 
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 \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 
 
 
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 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 
 
 
 
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 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 
 
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 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 
 
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 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 
 
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 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 
 
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 44 
 
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 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.' 
 
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 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 
 
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