UC-NRLF $B 555 711 \ ^^^^^=----2'^-^ X Dr.Nicholas Senn -MUlikgMi THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESENTED BY PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID ^f*_- IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS Peary on the Bridge of the "Erik" In the Heart of the Arctics NICHOLAS SENN, M. D., Ph. D., LL. D., C. M. Professor of Surgery, The University of Chicago; Professor of Military Surgery, Rush Medical College; Surgeon-General of Illinois; Chief of Operating Staff with the Army in the Field # during the Spanish-American War Jft CHICAGO W. B. CONKEY COMPANY PUBUSHERS Copyright, 1907, BY W. B. CONKEY COMPANY CONTENTS PAOS In the Heart of the Arctics 13 The Polar Region as a Summer Health Resort for Pa- tients Afflicted with Pulmonary Tuberculosis 19 An Unexpected Opportunity 23 The "Erik" 27 Newfoimdland Seal Fishery 31 Off for Greenland 39 A Glimpse of Labrador Life 47 Through Belle Isle Strait 55 From Labrador to Greenland 63 Greenland 75 Along the West Coast of Greenland 89 In North Star Bay 109 The Midnight Sun 123 A Great Inland Ice Cap 129 Life at North Star Bay 133 Short Life of Greenland's Flora 137 Maternal Love of Arctic Animals 139 An Unexpected, Unlooked-for Visitor 143 Arrival of the "Roosevelt" 147 Commander Peary 149 From North Star Bay to Etah 151 How Peary Collected His Eskimos 155 The Walrus 165 Etah 177 iM317309 CONTENTS PAGE The Smith Soimd Eskimos 179 Ten Days at Etah 231 An Eskimo Wedding on Board the "Erik" 255 The "Roosevelt" 259 Departure of the "Roosevelt" 265 A Friendly Contest between the Midnight Sun and the Moon 269 Deception of Distances in the Arctic Region 271 The Flora in the Heart of the Arctics 275 Arctic Woes 279 Approach of Winter 285 Homeward Boimd 287 Mental Indigestion 293 Isolation of the Smith Sound Eskimos 299 Omenak Fiord 303 Disco Island 305 Harbor of Godhavn 307 Greenland Ports 317 From Godhavn to St. Johns, Newfoimdland 321 From St. Johns to Sydney, Cape Breton 335 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Peary on the Bridge of the "Erik" Frontispiece Commander Peary on Deck of the "Roosevelt" 259 A Monster Veteran Iceberg 95 Steward of the "Erik" Calling for Dinner 31 The "Erik" at Etah 27 Mates Blanford and Whitten, Engineers Maher and Knight of the "Erik" 29 Himting Seal on Uand Ice 33 A Breathing Hole in the Ice for the Seal 35 Sealing Crew on Ice Field 37 Musk-Ox of North Greenland 39 My-a, the Adonis of the Tribe 193 Tung-we, the Tallest Man of the Tribe 195 Moonlight Glimpse of Labrador Coast 47 Hopedale — Labrador Whaling Station 49 A Veteran Whaling Crew 53 Bird Cliff, Saimders Island 167 Half of the Bag 175 Ballaena, Labrador 63 The Noble Game of Greenland 75 Heilprin Glacier in Inglefield Gulf 153 Hauling a Dead Polar on Deck 93 One of the Tents of Little Omenak 101 The Face of Petowik Glacier — Nimataks in the Rear. . . 105 Old Igloos, North Star Bay 109 Greenland Inland Fresh Water Lakes Ill LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAOB Tupik (Tent) and Eskimo Children 115 Two Interiors of Tupik — Floor and Bed 117 Eskimo with Woman in Kayak 125 "Jumbo," Wife and Children 127 ••Jumbo's" Left Foot 129 Tunneled Iceberg 135 A Flower Patch in the Heart of the Arctics 277 The Yellow Poppy 139i Eskimo Dogs at North Star Bay 133 The ••Roosevelt" in Foulke Fiord 147 Commander Peary in Arctic Suit 149 Table Mountain at North Star Bay (Noah's Ark) 103 Three Native Girls 163 Eskimo Women on Board the ••Erik" 199 Eskimo Woman with Child in Hood 165 Kud and His Chimi 161 Two Whales in Process of Cutting Up 57 Taking Walrus on Board 171 Eskimo Women at Work on Deck of the ''Erik" 173 Etah 177 Buriate and Wife 181 Female Form 18^ Eskimo Women ,, 197 Eskimo Dog Team 2ai Melville Bay — Seal Hunting on Land Ice 207 Iceberg at the Head of Inglefield Gulf 157 Interior of Baffin Land 99 A CiviUzed Baffin Land Eskimo 227 View in Foulke Fiord 233 Natives, Tents and Dogs 119 An Eskimo Belle 189 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGB Landing Dogs at Etah 243 Auk Rookeries in Foulke Fiord 247 Cleaning Up an Ice Pan 43 A Wedding on Board the ''Erik" 255 Captain Bartlett of the "Roosevelt" 261 The "Roosevelt" Leaving Etah for the Farthest North . 265 One of the Finest Icebergs Encountered by the Party . . 267 A Twin Iceberg 271 Southern Shore, Inglefield Gulf 155 First Cliff beyond North Star Bay 303 Southern Shore Omenak Fiord 297 Civilized Eskimos of Godhavn 311 A Monster Iceberg in Disco Bay 305 Godhavn 309 Igloo at Little Omenak and Native Women 107 Church at Godhavn 315 Blue Fox at Dusk 151 Eskimo Dogs 113 A View of Baffin Land 97 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS "Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.'' — Pope. We who were bom and raised in the temperate zone, and have spent much of our lifetime in lands of varied seasons, have naturally a strong desire to know and see how the people live in the two climatic extremes — in the neighborhood of the equator and the poles. From our earliest childhood days, we have the most vivid and pleasant recollections of the four seasons of the year — spring, summer, autumn and winter; all of which bring their special delights and attractions with a never-failing regu- larity. "Here stood fresh Spring, bound with flowery chaplet; Summer was unclothed, and bore a wheaten garland; Autumn also was there be- smeared with trodden grapes; and icy Winter, rough with hoary locks." — Ovidius. Spring reminds us of the time when Nature wakes up from her long winter slumber, rejuvenates 13 14 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS herself in the unfolding buds, expanding leaves and flowers, and sprouting grass under the caressing charms of the approaching sun, and the warm breath of generous warm showers. "And now every field is clothed^with grass, every tree with leaves; now the woods put forth their blossoms; now the year assumes its gayest attire." — Virgilius. It is the time "When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil." — Heber. Spring, the symbol of childhood, of beauty, peace, and happiness, is the season which is looked forward to with impatience; and there is no one, young or old, who, after the long winter, would not join with heart and soul in the pressing invitation: "Come, gentle Spring! ethereal mildness! Come. ' ' — Thomson. Summer brings the golden harvest and fills the air with the exquisite fragrance of the new-mown hay. "Autumn nodding o'er the yellow plain." — Thomson. yields its corn and luscious fruits, and Winter puts Nature to sleep under a bed of immaculate snow and invites young and old to invigorating outdoor sport on ice and snow. The climatic changes in the temperate zones come and go almost imperceptibly, and accomplish their task silently and insidiously. But what a 7A^ THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 15 fascination there is about the going beyond the limits of these temperate, conservative efforts of nature! What an inspiration to go where soil and climate combine to force from the earth nature's grandest and most imposing productions; or to go to the opposite extremes, where her icy hands, stretched from the poles, forbid the approach of man and beast, and lock the door against the intru- sion of any kind of vegetation! For eight consecutive years I have spent much of my vacation time, during mid-summer and mid- winter, in tropic and sub-tropic islands and coun- tries. I have become much enamored of the lofty, feathery palms, the rampant vegetation of the tropics, and the child- like, dusky people inhabiting them. I love the primeval tropic forests and their closely woven, almost impenetrable jungles, teeming with animal life, and have' learned to appreciate keenly the delicate fruits of nature's choicest orchards and the balmy air perfumed by the fragrance of myriads of flowers which decorate meadows and foliage. The visitor from the North revels in the wonder- ful handiworks of nature, but soon becomes aware by the heat that distresses him and by the insects that torture him by night and by day, that he is in the tropics. It is then that he thinks of a cooler climate and the lines heading this chapter occur > to him: "Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole." 1 6 7A^ THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS I was made to experience the force and meaning of these Unes during the summer of 1904, on my second voyage around the world, when I traveled across India in August and September, two of the hottest months of the year. At Benares, Delhi, Jaipur, and intervening points, the mercury of my thermometer, which registered 132° F. when ex- posed to the burning rays of the sun, nervously shot up to its maximum limit and had space permitted, I have no doubt it would have climbed up to 140® F. It was then I wafted a longing "sigh from Indus to the pole." The depressing effects of prolonged, continuous heat engenders an ardent desire for a land where the sun casts his rays more obliquely and with less power on the surface of the earth. Having become somewhat familiar with the tropics, their people, their trees and flowers, their animal life, and the effects of heat on man, beast, and vegetation, an irresist- ible desire gained possession of me to seek the dis- tant North, where Nature's moods and methods are more stem and where the struggle of life is more exacting and severe. I have had glimpses of the North from different points: at North Cape, Norway, where I was fortunate enough to see the midnight sun in all his glory; in Alaska, the land of forests, fiords and inland seas, the home of the won- derful Muir and Taku glaciers, and the wild un- tutored Alaska Indians; in Newfoundland, that stem and semi-arctic island, until quite recently the winter home of many of the arctic animals; in Siberia, the land of flowering steppes, mountains, IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 17 majestic rivers, strange lakes, and endless moss- grown tundras. But my imagination carried me away beyond these now much frequented places, away beyond the Arctic Circle. The writings of the most noted arctic explorers, Kane, Nordenskjold, Peary and Nansen, added oil to the fire, and the longing became irresistible. Greenland, the land of glaciers and icy mountains, was my objective point. But how to get there and return within the linuts of my allotted vacation time, were matters not easily solved. Fate favored me. When the daily press brought the news that Dr. Frederick Sohon, of Washington, D. C, intended to take a party of consumptives on a cruise along the western coast of Greenland, to give them the benefits of the uncontaminated pure air of the arctic region, I decided to make use of this unusual oppor- tunity to gratify my burning desire to study the climatic conditions within the Arctic Circle, the natives, and the scanty vegetation. I reserved at once a cabin, but unfortunately the plan miscarried, owing to objections made by the Danish govern- ment, to the landing of the vessel at any point along the intended route. It is a great pity that Doctor Sohon could not carry out his well matured plans, — to test the curative power of the arctic region in cases of incipient tuberculosis of the lungs and other parts of the body. THE POLAR REGION AS A SUMMER HEALTH RESORT FOR PATIENTS AFFLICTED WITH PULMONARY TUBERCULOSIS Experience, the best and most reliable guide in the practice of the healing art, has demonstrated, most conclusively, that the best results in the treat- ment of pulmonary tuberculosis are obtained by giving the patients the benefits of outdoor air and a maximum amount of sunlight. These two cura- tive agencies are found in an ideal condition during the summer months, above the Arctic Cirgle, where the air is absolutely sterile as far as the bacillus of tuberculosis is concerned, and where the short summer is one long day, illuminated by the dazzling rays of the midnight sun, which, in themselves, exercise a curative influence. The personal experience of Doctor Sohon proves the curative power of the arctic climate on tubercu- losis. In speaking of the projected Greenland cruise, he says: "The plan, which has been a dream of mine for many years, and which, through the aid of a number of generous men, will now be put into operation, is the sequel to my own experience in the polar regions. I accompanied Commander Peary in 1897, and was at that time slightly affected by tuberculosis myself. I improved so rapidly, de- spite the hardships of the journey, and was so vastly 19 20 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS benefited that I was struck with wonder at what the arctic regions could do for persons so affected. Five years afterward, on accompanying the Peary reUef expedition, I made an exhaustive study of the subject of the curative properties of the far North for consumptives." Tubercle bacilli do not necessarily cause a hopeless disease, but it is the resulting mixed infection with pyogenic organisms which occasions danger. The indications in the treatment are to have an environ- ment free from harmful bacteria, and to secure such other favorable conditions as to encourage a resto- ration of vitality and vigor, by which the disease is arrested and health restored. These conditions are found to perfection in some of the Greenland fiords. The suggestion of their adaptability to this purpose has nothing strange or experimental for its founda- tion. It offers something easily obtainable and better than we have at present — the highest de- velopment of all that has proved beneficial in the rational treatment of tuberculosis. *'A summer spent in Omenak Fiord or Inglefield Gulf, where we propose anchoring and biding awhile, would serve to establish a cure, or insure its accomplishment afterward, in nearly all cases not hopelessly advanced. Three consumptives to my knowledge have gone to these places, and in each case the cure was immediate and effectual. Two of them were for three months in the Peary expedition, and the third, a well- advanced case, was for nine months aboard a whaler. Six Eskimos brought to this country soon contracted virulent tuberculosis, four of them quickly sue- 7A^ THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 21 cumbing, one being still under treatment here, while the only one who returned to his native snows, recovered." The climatic conditions in Green- land, above the Arctic Circle, are ideal for this pur- pose. *'The secret of the open open-air treat- ment for this terrible disease is abundant sunlight and a dry, cold, bracing atmosphere. These three ingredients abound only in the very North during the three months of sunshine." "Almost to the extreme northern boundary of Greenland, and some degrees above the Arctic Circle, the summer temperature seldom falls below the freezing point, the mercury being generally above in July and August, when it ranges from 35° F. to 45° F. There is no increase of heat during the day and no cooling off during the night, for nights there are none." Fascinated by these natural curative resources of nature in the polar region, Doctor Sohon decided to make use of them by taking a summer trip along the west coast of Greenland, expecting to spend much of the time in several of the large inland fiords. He had made arrangements to have the steamship "Havana" converted into a hospital-ship with all the comforts and equipments of a modern sanatorium, and intended to make the cruise during the three summer months of perpetual daylight. Sailing along the coast and stopping in the sheltered fiords for several days, would give the patients, besides, the benefits of a frequent change of scenery. The purity of the air, the cool breezes, the constant sunbath and the living on the roof of a floating 2 2 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS hospital in a region where colds are almost unknown, certainly held out much encouragement that his humane undertaking would have proved a great success had the Danish government not put an unexpected stop to his plans. Doctor Sohon is so firmly convinced of the curative power of the arctic climate in the treatment of tuberculosis that he will not leave a stone unturned to make such a cruise next year, if not along the west coast of Greenland, in a region within the Arctic Circle offering similar hygienic advantages. AN UNEXPECTED OPPORTUNITY I had set my mind on seeing Greenland this year, and was very much disappointed when I found that Doctor Sohon's plans had miscarried. I could possibly have succeeded in going to Danish Greenland by way of Copenhagen, whence a steamer sails for Greenland three times during the summer season; but I wanted to see that part of Greenland north of the Danish settlements, the heart of the arctics. The only chance left was the Peary expedition. It was through the influence of Dr. Sohon that Commander Peary finally gave his con- sent for Doctor Sohon and myself to become the only passengers on his supply ship, the "Erik," a courtesy which we keenly appreciated. I am very fortunate in having for my traveling companion, on this somewhat novel trip, a man like Dr. Sohon, who is quite familiar, by his former experience, with what I expect to see and study. The time will pass more pleasantly and profitably for "A pleasant companion causes you not to perceive the length of the journey." — Publius Syrus. As we will be the only passengers on the "Erik," nothing will detract our attention from studying the "Land of the Midnight Sun," its strange people, its scanty vegetation, its wealth of marine animals, 23 24 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS its gigantic ice-cap with its leaders seaward in the form of glaciers. We will see icebergs born, icebergs floating and icebergs stranded, in all stages of dis- integration, yielding slowly, but surely, to the grad- ually increasing heat of the sun and warmth of the water that carries them to destruction. We will be given an opportunity to visit the places made nota- ble by a number of intrepid explorers on their way over the pathless ocean and limitless fields of ice and snow in search of the pole. We will go where "We leam daylight." — Shakespeare. We will spend most of our time where "Through the plains, of one continual day, Six shining months pursue their even way; And six succeeding, urge their dusky flight, Obscured with vapors and o'erwhelmed in night." — Prior. We will see the land and sea, where, during the summer, night sets no limit to work; where nature exhibits her strange and mysterious works of art in the magic light of one long, continuous day, and then drapes them with the somber mantle cast over them by the unbroken night of the stern arctic win- ter of equal duration. For two months I will look upon a new world, a new race, a new flora, a new fauna, where nature wears a new face and will be made to appreciate more than ever the value of travel as a means of education, as "Nothing has such power to broaden the mind as the ability to investigate systematically and truly all that comes under observation in life." — Marcus Aurelius, IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 25 There is always a peculiar fascination about the unknown, the strange, the mysterious, and, as a rule, "Everything unknown is magnified." — Tacitus. To see so much of the wonders within the Arctic Circle as is held out to us by a two-months' cruise of the "Erik" is no small privilege. The "Erik," one of the veterans of the North Pole fleet, has been in the service of Commander Peary during two of his former expeditions, and this time, as before, will penetrate deeply into the frozen zone, the exist- ence of which the ancient classic authors had some knowledge of: "There is an icy zone on the extreme borders of Scythia, a melancholy waste, barren and treeless; there dwell sluggish, cold, pallid looks, trembling ague, and pining want." — Ovidius. In visiting such an unfrequented region like the Arctic Circle in search of knowledge and recreation, it's doubly important to remember: "The use of traveling is to regulate the imag- ination by reality, and, instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are." — Dr. Johnson. Inspired with such good intentions, and happy in anticipation of what this vacation had in store for me, I left Chicago, July 3rd, for Sydney, Cape Breton, over the Grand Trunk Railway, making connection with the Intercolonial Railway at Mon- treal, and arrived at Sydney, via Truro at 10:30 P. M., July 6th, interrupting the journey by stopping 2 6 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS over eighteen hours at Montreal. Contrary to my expectations I found the trip over the Intercolonial Railway very comfortable, good service, fine sleepers, and excellent dining cars. The "Erik" was expected to sail from Sydney on the tenth of July, but did not come into this port until the thirteenth. Much had to be done to get her ready for the long voyage to her destination, Etah, Greenland, or possibly Cape Sabine, Ellesmere Land. She came with a ballast of stone, which had to be unloaded, after which six hundred and fifty tons of coal were taken on board, which with sixty-five puncheons of whale meat, constituted her cargo for the present Peary expedition. THE "ERIK' The "Erik" is a sealing vessel. She is a staunch, seven hundred ton steam schooner, built in Scotland, forty years ago. She has made many trips in search of seal and whale, and, on two former occa- sions, was chartered by Commander Peary. This, will, therefore, be her third voyage in the service of this enthusiastic and indefatigable explorer. When she came into the harbor, the first thing that at- tracted my attention, and marked her as a vessel intended for perilous service, were two immense barrels securely fastened to the fore and aft masts near the very tip of these immense trunks of hardy pine, at least seventy feet above the deck. These are the so-called crows' nests. These lofty lookouts are reached by a rope ladder, and the sailor enters through a hole in the bottom of the barrel, which is closed, after he has entered, by a trap door. Only the head of the watch projects over the rim of the barrel, and from this swaying, dizzy height he scans the vast fields of floating ice for seal and open lanes, locates icebergs, shallow water, and rocks, and sometimes, when the fog is dense on deck, the look- out is above the gray mantle of mist and fog, and their inmate enjoys the sunlight and unobscured vision, and is in a position to point out to the offi- cers on deck a safe course for the ship. 37 28 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS The "Erik" is an old fashioned ship and has no accommodations for passengers, and few con- veniences for officers and crew. It is fitted out as an ice- fighter, with a strong, wooden frame work, with an outer cover of square oak planks, more than a foot in thickness. The woodwork is as solid and sound now as it was forty years ago, notwith- standing the hard service to which she has been exposed during that long space of time. The entire aspect of this veteran vessel does credit to the name she bears, as **Erik the Red" was one of the most daring of seafaring men. Strength, endurance and simplicity are her most conspicuous qualities. Rude and stem in her appearance, she imparts confidence in those who, by choice or ne- cessity, have to depend on her for safety during the long and perilous voyage, deep into and back from the "Heart of the Arctics." Material repairs were made a number of years ago, but the thirty-seven horse-power engine has been in use for thirty years and remains in excellent working condition today. The master of the ship on this trip is Capt. Job Vine, who, for many years, has served in a similar capacity on sailing vessels, plying between St. Johns, Newfoundland, and Brazilian ports. This voyage proved an unusually trying one to him, as he had never been in the arctic regions and was not familiar with the trouble- some currents and the treacherous coast of Green- land, The crew, including the officers, is made up of nineteen men, all of them hardy Newfoundland sailors and experienced sealers and fishermen. MATINS BLANFORD AND VVllITTKN— KNGlxXKl; RS xMAIlKR AND KNIGHT OF THE; "ERIK" IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 29 The vessel has just returned from the annual sealing trip off the coasts of Labrador and New- foundland and in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The accounts given by the officers of this annual seal- fishery in the early spring may interest the reader, as the information I obtained concerning this in- dustry is from first source, hence reliable. Steward of the "Erik" Calling for Dinner NEWFOUNDLAND SEAL FISHERY Newfoundland seal-fishing is comparatively of recent origin and has been a source of a large amount of wealth to the Colony. Cod-fishing has been pur- sued for nearly four hundred years; seal-fishing commenced as an industry at the beginning of the last century. Rev. M. Harvey, of St. Johns, has made a careful study of this industry, and Levi G. Chase has published a very instructive report on the same subject, and from these sources, I have gleaned much in writing the introduction to this chapter. Generally the seal-killers forced their way through the ice, by which nature had guarded the helpless baby seals. Few people know that the fur used in making garments is obtained exclusively from the young white seal — the skin being dyed to suit the taste of the customers of this expensive and fashionable article of winter clothing. The once happy breeding places of the mother seals be- came, now, every spring, a slaughter-house, stained with the blood of their slain infants; and yet they return year after year to witness a repetition of the same cruel scene. Seal-killing (we can not speak of hunting in this connection) commenced by taking the animals in nets which were placed between the shore and some island rock at no great distance. As the animals migrated in fabulous numbers, a 31 32 7A^ THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS few would become entangled in the nets. The same primitive method is still made use of in some parts of the northern coasts of Newfoundland and Labrador, especially in capturing bay-seal which is non-migratory. The mother seals not infrequently make their breeding ground on the shore where the young seal are killed with a club and the old ones are shot. In 1894, 120,000 seals, old and young, were killed on shore. At first the seal was hunted only for its fur. Seal-oil was first mentioned as an article of export from Newfoundland in 1749 — the value of the yield for that year being estimated at $5,000. With the depreciations in the value of seal-fur and the de- crease in the annual yield, the blubber of the seal plays a more important r61e as an article of export. The next progress in seal-killing was made by fitting out small schooners of from 30 to 50 tons, manned each by 12 to 18 men. These schooners would generally leave the different harbors about the 2 1 St of March in order to escape the equinoctial gales, or "St. Patrick's brush," as it was called. Experience soon demonstrated that the proper time for leaving port was the first of March, in order to reach the young or white seal before they had grown sufficiently strong to take to the water. As many as a hundred vessels used to leave the harbor of St. Johns every spring for the icefields. So re- munerative was this industry that its expansion was wonderfully rapid up to 181 5, when the whole business of the country sustained a severe shock by the termination of the wars between England IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 33 and France. Statistics go to show that in that year only 126,315 seals were caught, while in 1844 the number reached the astonishing figure of 685,530. In 1857 there were 400 vessels, of from 70 to 200 tons engaged in the seal-fishery, their united crews numbering 13,000 men. The average annual value of the seal-fishery at that period was from a million to a million and a quarter dollars. In 1863 steamers commenced to take the place of sailing vessels. This change has revolutionized seal-fishery. In 1882 there were 25 steamers with an average tonnage of about 500 tons. The use of steam in place of sails has reduced the number of hands engaged in this industry more than one half. The fishermen have lost by this change. The men now receive only one-third of the value of the seals taken by each vessel, instead of one half, which was their share in sailing vessels. The great difficulty now with them is to get berths on board the steamers, and hundreds of applicants are left behind every year. Some years the losses to men and ship owners are great. In 1894, the 21 steamers engaged captured only 152,821 seals. It is a mistake, therefore, to suppose that the cap- italists receive an undue share of the profits. Their losses, when the animal catch is small, are very serious and the returns on their heavy outlay are, on an average, very moderate. Some years, on the other hand, both crew and ship owners have a rich harvest. The largest bill ever made in a St. Johns steamer was that made by the crew of the S. S. "Nimrod," in 1 871, a crew of 140 men made $208.47 34 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS each, in two trips — 28,087 seals were taken. In 1900, 19 steamers brought in 353,276 seals, the number of men employed being 3,760 and the men's profits averaged from $3.16 to $58.48 each. The risk of property to the ship owners is great; for example, during thirty years, from 1863 to 1893, no less than 16 steamers were lost by being crushed between the ice . No lives were lost , as the men saved themselves by taking refuge on the ice, from where they were picked up by other steamers or they reached the shore by walking over the ice-floes. The Gulf of St. Lawrence and the coasts of Green- land and Labrador are the favorite sealing grounds of the Newfoundland fishermen. Parties in St. Johns control, to a large extent, this industry at the present time, and from this city most of the yield in fur and oil finds its way into the home and foreign markets, . About twenty steam schooners, manned by from 2,000 to 3,000 men, that is 100 to 300 raen to each vessel, constitute the present annual sealing force. A recent law, intended to protect this valu- able fur-bearing animal, limits the vessel to one sealing trip a year. The month of March is the sealing season, and lasts from twenty-five to thirty days. The seals come to their breeding grounds in countless numbers during the last week in March, the average time being about the twenty-fifth of the month. They congregate in compact herds on the smooth ice. All of the young seal are born within two or three days. Twins are very rare. The young seal, three weeks old when the coat is white, IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 35 yields the valuable fur. The skins of the old animals are tanned and are converted into leather, the fur being worthless. The mother seals leave the breed- ing grounds as soon as the young can take care of themselves. The season, therefore, is a short one. The steamers leave St. Johns about the same time, and then a race begins to reach the breeding grounds and locate the herds. This year the crew of the "Erik" found three herds, estimated at 15,000, out of which 7,000 to 8,000 were taken. As soon as a herd is in sight, the steamer sails slowly along the margin of the ice. The men, armed with a sealing hook, jump off and land on the pans of ice, when they are divided into groups of about ten each, under the command of a foreman, an experienced sealer, for each set. After the organization of the crew has been completed, and the manner of attack on the animals planned, the herd is surrounded and the slaughter begins. The work of destruction does not deserve the term "seal-hunting," as it con- sists largely in killing the helpless infant seals by clubbing them to death. The club is a heavy stick about six feet in length, mounted on one end with a gaff, consisting of a spearlike projection and a hook. This rude weapon is not only used in dealing the death-blow, but, with the hook, animals are jerked out of the water and drawn upon the ice. It is also an exceedingly useful implement to the men in jumping from pan to pan of the pack ice, and in case a man makes a misstep, it aids him in escaping drowning until he can extricate himself. If his efforts are fruitless, a nearby companion uses his gaff in landing him on the ice. 36 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS The baby seal is easily killed by a blow on the head, others are kicked to death. The mother seal remains faithful to the last in defending her offspring, and if there are not enough baby seals to make the catch remunerative, the old animals are killed in their turn by clubbing or shooting. Even the hardy seamen speak of this slaughter with emotion. Frightened almost to death by the presence of so many men, and the work of carnage, these helpless, innocent little animals lift their tearful eyes and utter their mournful, baby cry in appeals for mercy; but no amount of supplication can save them from certain death; the ruthless slaughter goes on until every baby seal is counted among the dead. The extermination of the new-born is always complete. Many of the old animals escape, only to return the next year to meet a similar cruel reception. The slaughter of the innocents completed, the task of skinning the carcasses begins. The season being so short and the competition keen, everything must be done with as little loss of time as possible, to clear up the field in order to find and exterminate another herd. These men are experts in removing the valuable parts of the animals killed — the skin and the thick layer of fat between it and the under- lying muscles, both of which are removed together with a few strokes of the knife. An incision is made, with one stroke of a sharp knife, from one end of the animal to the other, on the ventral side, and, in a minute and a half, skin and fat are severed from what remains of the carcass, which is left on the ice to be devoured by flesh-eating animals. One IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 37 flipper is left attached to the skin to facilitate the handling of it. The steamer hovers in the neigh- borhood of the bloody field of the dead, and with hooks and winch, the skins are brought on deck and later stored away in the hold of the ship, where they are preserved by the use of salt and ice. To make this business remunerative, each vessel ought to take about 30,000 animals. The crew is entitled to the value of every third seal, and the captain receives besides, four per cent, of the value of the cargo. The cargo is sold by weight, the present value being from $3.50 to $4.00 a hundred- weight. Sealing is not as profitable now as it was a few years ago, when the product yielded as high as $9.00 per hundred- weight. Formerly most of the raw material was sent to England; at the present time it finds a ready sale in the United States, and the demand for it is on the increase. The price of the fur vacillates from year to year, the fluctuation depending largely on the estimate in which the fur is held in fashionable society. Notwithstanding this wanton, wholesale animal slaughter, old sealers claim that there has not been a material diminution in the number of animals which migrate to these breeding grounds every spring. The competition between the different crews, for obvious reasons, is a very keen one. An experi- enced master and an able-bodied, active, fearless crew weigh heavily in the balance of success, but luck plays its pranks here as well as in other voca- tions. If a herd is sighted by several sealers at the same time, a rush takes place, but the different 38 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS crews are held together by the foremen and pursue preconcerted methods established among sealers and fix their claims on the dead animals by planting their respective ship flags on the pans of ice on which the seals are killed. Stealing of dead animals or their skins subjects the convicted culprits to a heavy fine. MUSK-OX OF NORTH GRE£:NI.AND OFF FOR GREENLAND Waiting is always unpleasant, and sometimes painful; suspense and uncertainty foster discontent and test patience to the extreme of endurance. Commander Peary was anxious that the **Erik," his supply ship, should leave port as soon as possible, and sent an order, by wire, from New York, to that effect. The unloading of ballast and loading of the coal cargo required much more time than was an- ticipated. Doctor Sohon and I boarded the vessel Saturday afternoon, July 15th, confident that we would get away that same evening, or at least some- time during the night; but disappointment followed disappointment. Coaling was suspended promptly at midnight, as Sabbath day is more strictly observed in England and her possessions than in any other country in the world. The English sailor, when in port, claims Sunday as a day of rest, and abso- lutely refuses to do any kind of work, unless his ship should be in danger. A Sunday aboard ship in a coaling dock is not a pleasant experience. The captain assured us that he would sail at ten o'clock A. M., Monday. The coal heavers, however, did not put in their appearance until Monday morning. The work then began in earnest. From the elevated coal docks, car after car discharged its contents over chutes through the hatchway into the capa- 39 40 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS cious hold of the ship, amidst clouds of dust which penetrated every crevice and found its way into the galley, dining room, and cabins, in spite of all efforts to exclude it. Officers, crew and we two passengers, stained black with this impalpable coal-dust, looked like negroes before the 650 tons of coal were on board. When the coaling was finished, the whole deck looked like an entrance to a coal mine. The hold of the vessel and the bunkers were gorged with the precious fuel to be consumed in the far North, in the coming effort to reach the pole. Thirty- three tons were in bags piled on deck, and then a mountain of loose coal occupied more than half of the deck, leaving only a very small free space around the galley and cabin entrance. When the vessel was ready to sail, one of the officers was missing, retarding again the departure. He had gone on shore and, although Sydney is supposed to be a temperance town, he found enough firewater to make him forget the hour of sailing. The steam whistle screeched and screeched unmercifully to remind him of his delay. He finally came, and we left the dock at half-past six o'clock Monday even- ing, July 17th. After passing North Sydney and Sydney Mines, and leaving the entrance of the magnificent harbor, we were in full view of the great Atlantic Ocean; and after the unpleasant experiences of the last two days, we were in a fit state of mind to comprehend and appreciate the meaning of: *'The sea! the sea! the open sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever free!" — Procter. IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 41 Commander Peary had made arrangements for me to occupy the captain's room, the only cabin deserving such a term in the vessel. As we, the only two passengers, had our own provisions and cook, we were independent of the officers' mess, and set to work at once to establish our own housekeeping during the long voyage to and back from the arctic region. The weather was all that possibly could be de- sired — a cloudless sky; a gentle breeze from the southwest; the temperature 56° F.; the atmosphere bracing and dry. In the long, peaceful, beautiful, bewitching twilight which lingered until the hour of ten, the green coast of Cape Breton gradually, almost imperceptibly, disappeared in the distance — and our heavily burdened steamer glided over the rip- pling surface of the ocean as smoothly as a birch canoe over the sleeping bosom of a tiny, silvery, inland lake. As the soft twilight gave way to the darkness of the summer night, we became conscious that it "Hath in her sober livery all things clad." — Milton. The somber darkness was of short duration. The full-grown smiling moon soon made her appear- ance and chased away the darkness that had hardly begun. "The moon arose, clad o'er in light, With thousand stars attending on her train; With her they rise, with her they set again." — Cowley. 42 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS This first night on the ocean, with the pure, cool, bracing air, after eight months of incessant toil and a week of anxious waiting for the ship that should bring us the much-needed annual rest and recrea- tion, was like a calm after a storm — like a sunshine after many days of clouds, fogs, and mists. The soft, enchanting moonshine and the myriads of stars twinkling in the pale blue dome of the sky riveted our attention for hours, as "Nobody looks at what is immediately be- fore them; we are all employed in gazing at the stars." — Cicero. The next day after a refreshing sleep, we found ourselves near the west coast of Newfoundland, with Cape Race still in sight behind us. The whole day we sailed along the coast, made interesting by the rugged range of mountains, undulating and dentated, intercepted here and there by bays, and clad with pale green grass and the dark foliage of stunted pine and fir. This coast range, at some points, attains a considerable height; Mount St. Gregory, one of the highest peaks, rising to an altitude of 2826 feet. Toward noon we saw the first snow in the form of white flecks, in some of the deep gulches on the mountain sides. The coast scenery of the Bay of Islands, as seen from the deck of the steamer, is one of the finest in America. During the afternoon we saw the first arctic bird, a tern, closely allied to the gull family. The average temperature during the last twenty-four hours was 57*^ F.; very little breeze and the sky slightly overcast. Wednesday, July i8th. There was lightning IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 43 and thunder last evening, raining hard all night, foggy along the coast, and a drizzling rain during the forenoon. At noon we met the first icebergs, six in number, when in sight of Greenely Island and the mainland of Labrador. These icebergs retained their aspect of virgin purity, but showed all stages of disintegration, from the destructive effects of the aggressive July sun during their slow passage through Belle Isle Strait. The low coast of Labrador is treeless and only lightly draped with a sward of pale green grass. A little fishermen's village, well sheltered by surrounding hills, which we passed in Blanc Sablon, is the place selected by Doctor Grenfell, the Father Damien of Labrador, for a hospital for the fisher- men population of that part of Labrador. This is a most excellent choice for the people who live here throughout the entire year, and for the transient fishermen who frequent this part of the Labrador coast during the fishing season, and who, without such a humane institution, would find it impossible to secure medical aid in case of injury or disease. As we approached the Strait of Belle Isle, a narrow passage of water, on an average fifteen miles wide and fifty miles long, between the coasts of Labrador and Newfoundland, we met several schooners en- gaged in fishing for cod. The coasts of Labrador and Newfoundland are famous for their remuner- ative cod-fisheries. As we entered the strait a thick fog obscured the coasts, and all officers were at their posts, straining their eyes for sources of danger as the steamer crept along at half speed. 44 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS We were shown many places made memorable by- shipwrecks. Belle Isle Strait has a bad reputation among seafaring men on account of the frequency with which dense fogs settle here. One of the officers, an experienced whaler, sealer, and fisherman, related to me some very interesting facts concerning Newfoundland's Cod-Fishery Of Newfoundland's population of about 200,000, nearly 60,000 are engaged in catching and curing fish. The average annual value of the cod-fishery is $4,500,000, of the seal-fishery, $600,000, of the herring and salmon fisheries, $250,000; of the lobster fishery, $60,000. The total value for 1902 was $8,956,992. Cod-fishery is the summer industry of a large part of the fishermen population of New- foundland. Most of the business is in the hands of a few St. Johns firms. The work is done by the use of small schooners, each of which has a crew of about ten men, and which carries four or five dories. The fishing is done near shore by the use of nets, and farther out by trawling. When the captain of the schooner has selected the fishing ground, the dories set out, and each man attends to his own trawl. The trawl used here is a stout line about a mile in length, to which are attached 1500 cod hooks, baited with fragments of the squid; the ends of the line are fastened to an anchored float. The fish caught, after being properly dressed, are salted, either on board the schooner, or at the fishing station. The drying is done on wooden racks with or without an intervening layer of small branches of the fragrant 7A^ THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 45 fir. Dried codfish constitutes an important article of food over a large part of the surface of the earth, hence it has always a ready sale and commands a good price. From the liver of the cod, the medicinal cod-liver oil is obtained. It is strange that, so far, no attempts have been made to convert the parts of the fish not used into a fertilizer, as is being done now with the waste material of the whale. A GLIMPSE OF LABRADOR LIFE I have already referred to the dangers the sea- men face in passing the Strait of Belle Isle. We were made aware of these soon after passing Point Amour. The current was unusually strong, a stiff breeze set in, and a dense fog made further progress imprudent, so the captain decided to find shelter for the night in Loup Bay, an excellent little harbor, fringed by a small fishermen's hamlet, made up of about twenty small frame houses. After dropping the anchor, we were safe for the night in the snug little harbor and felt: "My vessel is in the harbor, reckless of the troubled sea. ' ' — Terentius. The mournful sounds of the fog horn at Point Amour, and the intermittent screechings of a steamer, fog bound in the strait, were kept up the balance of the day and the greater part of the night. A fishing schooner in full sail emerged, phantom-like, from the fog about the time we entered the harbor, and sought the same shelter. It was three o'clock in the afternoon when we left the steamer in a row boat, headed for the whaling station about a mile from the hamlet; and soon after I set, for the first time, my feet on Labrador soil. We were courte- ously shown this interesting modern establishment by the foreman, who explained to us the processes 47 48 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS which are now employed in converting the giant of the sea into oil and fertilizer, after the most valu- able part of the animal, the whalebone, has been removed. The day before our visit, three black whales were brought to the station, and the last one was in the process of being cut up. The great slabs of blubber had already been converted into oil and the immense steam vats were filled with the remaining oil-yielding tissues, including the brain, bones and muscles. The enormous jaws had been stripped of whalebone, which appeared in two separate pieces, made up, as they were, of two densely packed, flat- fringed segments of whalebone, somewhat in the shape of overlapping fans. The rendering estab- lishment, a group of brick and frame buildings, is supplied with modem machinery, and every part of the animal is utilized. The intestines are preserved by salting, and later are converted elsewhere into leather. In a separate building all refuse is made into a fertilizer, which is shipped in bags. A dozen men were busy in carving the carcass with large knives, fastened to wooden handles. These men are familiar with the anatomy of the whale skeleton and are marvelously dexterous in the use of these huge knives which resemble very much a small scythe. In another large building a gang of men was employed in curing codfish which were being brought in by the fishing schooners, owned by the same firm. Tons of salted cod were stored in the warehouse, and many more tons were spread over the wooden frameworks IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 49 outside, undergoing a slow process of desiccation. The smell in such establishments is anything but agreeable to the uninitiated, although the utmost cleanliness prevails everywhere. More than an acre of ground was covered with wooden racks, upon which the black whalebone was undergoing the same process. Forty men are employed here, throughout the entire season, in disposing of the whales and in curing and drying codfish. A well-beaten path from the whaling station leads along the coast to L'anse de Loup, or Loup Bay, the harbor, about a mile distant. We returned to the hamlet by this path and on the way I improved the opportunity to study the flora of this part of the Labrador coast. The flowers, familiar to me and in blossom now, make their appearance in the neighborhood of Chicago during the last two weeks in April. I found here the iris, dandelion, smilax, dewberry, gooseberry, ranunculus, buttercup, wild strawberry, sorrel and watercresses. Beautiful ferns were just peeping through the shallow, boggy soil on the side of the terraced mountain and were just beginning to unfurl their curled up fronds. Dwarf willows were in the act of producing their catkins. Tufts of light green grass and stunted fir and alder made up much of the verdure of the mountainside. Much snow remained in places sheltered from the spring sun, and numerous bubbling rivulets of the purest water intersected the green swards and the diminutive forest of stunted, storm- tossed trees. The little hamlet has one public building, a small frame structure, with many windows, so IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS which is used as a school house, public meeting place, and church. In the last capacity, it serves Catholics and Protestants alike. Vicious-looking dogs guarded the doorsteps of nearly all the huts, which reminded us of the fact that we had passed beyond the limits of wagon roads and the horse as a beast of burden. Most of the huts had little vegetable gardens in front of or behind them, and in some of them I saw patches of vigorous rhubarb and potato plants just emerging from the loose, sandy soil, and cabbage plants set out only a few days before. A number of icebergs were stranded on the shore of the harbor, others remained mo- tionless in the pacific water, all of which, when the night set, loomed up like specters in the darkness. A Capelin Run "Each bay with fog innumerable swarms, and shoals Of fish, that with their fins and shining scales Glide under the green waves, in sculls that oft Bank the mid sea." — Milton. The capelin {Mallotus villosus) is a small salt- water fish, which, at certain seasons of the year, is found in fabulous numbers on the coasts of New- foundland, Iceland, Alaska, and Greenland. We were treated to a rare and interesting phenomenon, illus- trating the abundance of marine life, the evening we spent at Loup Bay — a real capelin run. The capelin is a small fish about four inches in length, a kind of smelt that comes to the Labrador coast regularly every year during spawning time, and IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 51 after a few weeks disappears as suddenly and mys- teriously as it came. This migration the fishermen call a **capelin run." The capelin season begins about June 25 th and is over about the middle of August. The fish seek the shallow water near the shore, where they congregate in fabulous numbers and, rubbing with the ventral side against the sandy bottom, deposit the spawn, a performance the fishermen call "rolling." Fishermen's stories, as a rule, are not noted for veracity and some will, un- doubtedly, regard my account of the capelin run I saw as an exaggeration of what really occurred. The fact, however, remains that as we walked along the sandy shore about sundown, the clear, shallow water was made black by wriggling masses of these little creatures, entirely obscuring the sandy bottom. Many who came too near the edge of the water were thrown by the waves on the beach, and hun- dreds of dead fish were thrown backward and for- ward by the lapping waves. One of the sailors secured a cast net, and in three casts landed two bucketfuls of the fish, all of them nearly uniform in size. The numerous dogs patrolled the shore and helped themselves to fresh fish as they were being thrown on the beach. We could now understand the contented appearance and good behavior of these ugly, wolf -like animals. In front of every fisherman's hut, salted and unsalted capelin were being dried; the former as food for man, the latter as a winter supply for the dogs. Another proof of the abundance of fish in this part of the Labrador coast was given us when we 52 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS returned on board the "Erik." During our absence two of the sailors and our cook amused themselves by fishing for tomcod. No need of bait or special skill here. The method employed might not satisfy the sportsman, but it brought the fish on deck. The tomcod is so plentiful in these waters that the fishing is done with baitless hooks. A double .hook in the shape of a miniature anchor, with a sinker immedi- ately above it, is put at the end of the line. After the hook has reached a certain depth, the line resting on the gunwale is suddenly jerked up two or three feet, and this see-saw motion is kept up until one of the fish, attracted by the glittering, moving ob- ject, is hooked and hauled on deck. More than a pailful of small cod were caught in this simple manner in less than two hours. Whale-Hunting Whale hunting, as practised in the Greenland and Labrador waters, has undergone remarkable changes during the last few years. The old whalers, in open whale-boats, and experts in the use of the hand harpoon, would find it necessary to-day to learn new lessons in the successful practice of their voca- tion. The tactics of whale-hunting have been revolutionized by the substitution of the steam launch for the rowboat and by the use of the cannon, instead of arm and hand force, in throwing the deadly harpoon. Whales of all sorts have become scarce in these waters and the sperm-whale, the most valuable, has become almost extinct. The sport part of whaling has given place to means of IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 53 destruction calculated to secure the game with the greatest degree of certainty, and in the shortest possible space of time. The hand harpoon was not a fatal weapon. It served the purpose of tiring out the animal, after a long and dangerous chase, when the exhausted beast could be approached with greater safety with killing weapons. In the struggle for life the animal had some show of escape and even of victory. To-day victory is altogether on the side of the pursuers, with no risk to life on their part. To make the waning business of whaling a paying industry, the scarcity of the game makes it necessary to secure as many as possible of the animals that are discovered. The black whale (baleen), the species usually hunted here, has a swimming speed of ten to eleven knots an hour. He can not live under water for more than an hour and twenty minutes at a time without coming to the surface for air; hence, when once discovered, he can be followed and kept in sight by a crew in a steam launch until he is sufficiently tired out to come within range of the cannon harpoon. The harpoon now in use is a vicious and most deadly weapon. It consists of a bar of iron about four feet long, and about the size of the forearm above the wrist. The penetrating end of the harpoon has a sharp point and four enormous ugly looking barbs which lie close to the stem of the weapon when it enters the body of the whale, and are spread by the explosion of a cartridge fired by a cap when the harpoon strikes a solid resist- ance. This giant harpoon is fired from a cannon, 54 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS three feet in length, mounted and operated on the bow of the steam launch. This harpoon not only grapples the huge animal, but often the explosion in the interior of the body kills almost instantaneously. If this is not the case, the firing is repeated as often as the animal comes to the surface and is within range. The first and all subsequent shots are fired at close range, never more than forty-eight feet. A black whale, of average size, yields about $i,ooo clear profit to the firm. The value of a sperm- whale sometimes reaches the enormous figure of $20,000. THROUGH BELLE ISLE STRAIT Friday, July 21st, we left Loup Bay harbor at 3:30 A. M., the fog having thinned out into a mist. We were soon out of sight of land and surrounded by icebergs of all dimensions, from the size of a large dwelling house to remnants not larger than the ice-blocks in a refrigerator. "And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold, And ice most high came floating by, As green as emerald." — Coleridge. As we proceeded and again came in view of Lab- rador, the amount of snow on the mountains in- creased and the icebergs were larger. Owing to a cloudy sky, a drizzling rain, and a misty condition of the atmosphere, the Newfoundland coast never came in sight. The eastern inlet of the strait, near Battle Harbor, presented a beautiful panoramic view. Hundreds of icebergs had congregated here, many of them stranded in the shallow water, after their voyage from the far North. Although the atmosphere was misty, I could count fifty icebergs from the deck of the steamer, surrounding us on all sides. Their marble whiteness and size were inten- sified and magnified in the prevailing mist. Many of these monster masses of solid ice were at least 300 feet in width, and rose 120 feet above the level of the sea. As the submerged part of an iceberg 55 56 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS is approximately seven times greater than that above the water, one can reaUze the enormity of the size of these giant offsprings of the Greenland glaciers. Dr. Kane, in estimating the size of an iceberg in Melville Bay, and it was not the largest one he saw, reached the conclusion that it represented sixty-one millions of tons in weight. All of the largest icebergs had become arrested in their slow, southern course, where the depth of the strait is given at sixty fathoms; another indication of their gigantic size. A few of these bergs had brought their moraine with them; others had lost their marble whiteness, on summit or side, by turning over and rubbing against the sandy bottom of the sea. Many of them were cracked and fissured, and all of them exhibited indi- cations of a slow process of disintegration from the effects of rain, warm sunshine, and the swift current. These elements had sculptured summit, sides and base into strange, fantastic designs, some of them of exquisite, artistic beauty. Marble white, delicate blue, and emerald green were their prevailing colors, while above the surface of the water, blue shown in the fissures and fresh surfaces, and a delicate green of the submerged base. Nature's chisel had done some beautiful carving in the form of grooves, ridges, cup-shaped depressions, pillars, steps, verandas, porticos, gables, towers, steeples, doors, windows, outlines of human and animal faces. Some of them showed the outlines of churches, houses, ships, and fortresses, etc. This part of Belle Isle Strait is an immense cemetery for these travelers from the arctic 7A^ THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 57 regions. No one knows how long they have been on their journey. They would never have met such a cruel fate if they had remained where they were born; but their cradle was too deep into which they fell when they separated involuntarily from their glacier mother and crashed into the cold bosom of the ocean, with the noise of thunder, bounding and rebounding, rocking and swaying, in the tumultuous water, infuriated by their fall, and on the return of calm, they drifted helplessly with the current in the direction of a climate deadly to their existence. Here they are, an army dying of a fatal disease. It is only a question of a short time when they will return to the element out of which they were moulded by the icy hand of the polar cold. Their sweet water will only serve to dilute the brine of the greedy ocean. Here, among these silent sentinels, guarding the inlet of the strait, we found a large fleet of schooners engaged in fishing for cod. The Labrador coast is a favorite place for this industry, and the nearby Battle Harbor is a gathering point for the fishermen and serves as a safe refuge in times of danger on the sea. The village of Battle Harbor is comprised of about twenty fishermen's huts, and is noted for being the headquarters of Dr. Grenfell, the well known missionary physician of the Labrador coast. For the last twelve years, this devoted, tireless worker in the cause of humanity, has given all his ener- gy to the spiritual and physical well-being of the fishermen, who earn a scanty livelihood by plying their dangerous business along the misty, foggy, 58 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS chilly Labrador coast. One of the several little hospitals, established by the untiring efforts of Doctor Grenfell, is located at Battle Harbor. The Canadian government has presented him with a small coast steamer, which serves him a good purpose in visiting the different villages along the coast during the summer, and in the winter, he makes his trips over ice and snow in a dog sledge. Of such a devoted, self-sacrificing man we can say in truth: "Men approach nearer to the gods in no way than by giving safety to men." — Cicero. The hardships these fisherfolk have to endure in these northern waters, during the sealing season, is best shown by a few extracts from the last year's log-book of the master of the "Erik." The start was made from St. Johns, Newfoundland, March 12th. The following day at noon, this record was made: "Ten ships in sight, all working north, through sheet ice. Gray Islands in sight, bearing northwest twenty miles. 4 P. M. Thirteen ships in sight, all making way through sheet ice. The afternoon of the same day, and all next day, severe snow storms were encountered and the ships, under full steam, had to break through the ice. March 15th a herd of 1,000 seal was discovered and 530 animals were taken." "March i6th, 12 M. Wind east, with snow. All hands out, working on ice. Ship picking up pans, (dead seal on floating ice). 6 P. M. All hands on board with ninety-four flags out (flag planted on an ice-floe secures ownership of the dead) . Reports IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 59 1,000 seals panned. 8 P. M. Wind east, strong, with snow; ship picking up pans. 9 P. M. Burnt down (ship stopped, fire low). March 17th 12 M. Wind northeast, strong, ship picking up seals. 4 P. M. Ship making good way through sheet ice, pick- ing up seal. 8 P. M. All hands on board. Reports 8,000 seals panned. Ship burnt down in heavy ice." The next day the log says: "7 P. M. All hands on board with 7,000 seals panned, ship burned down in heavy ice." "Ship jammed in heavy ice." "Heavy gale". "Snowstorms." "Ship under full steam, butting heavy ice." "Burnt down." "Making five inches of water per hour." These are expressions found on almost every page of the log book and give some idea of the hardships a sealer must en- counter on these annual trips for seal. The last entry was made on April 2 2d. "12 M. Wind east, raining. Laying in seal on the ice. 2 P. M. Tried seals, but found them wild. 2:10 P. M. Full speed ahead, homeward bound. 4 P. M. Wind south- west with thick fog and rain. 12 P. M. Fog lifting." It is evident that such cruises for seal are not only attended by many hardships, but, also, by no incon- siderable risk to life. Jumping from one pan of ice to another, although closely packed, in the excite- ment of the chase, must necessarily not only result occasionally in a cold bath, but in danger by drown- ing, in spite of the skilful use of the gaff, and the aid of near-by companions. There are other and more serious dangers the sealer has to face. A few years ago, a sealing vessel, carrying two hundred and one men, lost forty- three in a gale and severe snow-storm. 6o IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS It was the only vessel which permitted the crew to go on the ice that day. When some distance from the ship, a sudden, violent gale, accompanied by a raging snowstorm, set in, which made the return to the ship a matter of extreme difficulty, and forty- three perished from the effects of exposure and the intense cold. The cod-fishery, during the summer months, can by no means be looked upon as a pas- time. The frequent drizzling rains, the mists and fogs, the chilly weather, and frequent squalls make the life on board the schooners and in the open boats anything but pleasant. And yet there is, and there always has been, a certain degree of fascination about the periphery of danger zones best illustrated by military and marine life. The seaman is not happy unless he is on the sea, and the real soldier is out of his element unless there is some prospect for him to show his fighting strength and skill. The sealing vessels have no difficulty in enlisting the services of a full crew year after year. The fact is, there are more applications than berths, and the cap- tains of the sealers have a large material from which to select their crew. As each man receives his share of the profits of the trip, the best possible efforts of the men thus employed are secured. If the trip is a profitable one, each man is benefited in proportion to the total gain; if it proves a failure, the loss affects them all collectively and individually. It is among these fishermen and sealers on the bleak coast of Labrador that Dr. Grenfell has cast his lot and carries on his humanitarian work, and they know how to appreciate it. Along the whole IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 6i coast of Labrador, his name has become a household word, and wherever his benevolent work carries him, he is looked upon as the benefactor of the men who live and toil on the sea. FROM LABRADOR TO GREENLAND After leaving the Strait of Belle Isle and passing Battle Harbor, we sailed along the coast of Labrador as far as Round Hills Island, which was reached at midnight. Few icebergs were seen on this part of the route, and most of them were small. The foggy- condition of the coast excluded the sight of land. Saturday morning, July 2 2d, promised a more agreeable day, the fog had vanished and an occasional peep of the sun through the broken clouds cheered the deck, and the heaving bosom of the ocean was the playground of many arctic birds, guillemots, and gulls. After leaving the dreary, fog-clad coast of Lab- rador, the captain set his compass for Holstenborg, Greenland, 800 miles almost due north. The track of the ship will be over a part of the ocean noted for its depth, which, on an average, exceeds a mile. The nights are becoming shorter, day after day, as we steam northward, being now crowded in between late twilight and early dawn; the former in this latitude, at this time of the year, does not vanish until 10 P. M., and dawn creeps in at half -past two in the morning. Toward evening, the first day out, the long swells of the sea were lashed by a stiff gale, which soon broke the long swells into short, choppy, foam-crested waves. It was then we were reminded of the beautiful lines: 63 64 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS "The twilight is sad and cloudy; The wind blows wild and free, And like the wings of sea-birds Flash the white caps of the sea." — Longfellow. The little steamer, groaning under the heavy- cargo of coal, responded gracefully to the wild movements of the sea, and assumed the gait so pleasing to the lover of the sea — a compromise be- tween pitching and rolling. Once out of the Labra- dor current, we looked in vain for icebergs and, from the appearance and action of the sea, and the temperature, we could imagine ourselves on the much-frequented highway from New York to Eng- land this time of the year. That July 23d was Sunday, we could not mistake, as the crew observed this day of rest as far as could be done, even when the vessel was under full sail. Up to now, the furnaces were fed with coal from the deck. Two men kept the bunkers brimful all the time by shoveling coal from the deck into their gaping apertures. This day the shovels on deck were at rest, and the men who handled them during week days, smoked their pipes on deck and in the forecastle. The two firemen below remained at their posts. Another unmistakable Sunday indica- tion was a dish served for breakfast, called "bruise" in the sailor language, a mixture of salt codfish, steamed biscuits, and slices of bacon, a wholesome and savory dish. At the place where we are now, half-way between Labrador and Greenland, the ocean has a depth of 1,500 fathoms, as indicated on IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 65 the mariner's map. The same authority makes the statement that the floor of the ocean, as ascer- tained by soundings, shows sand and coral. Coral formation, at such great depth, could only have taken place when this part of the earth was under the influence of a tropic or sub-tropic climate, and when the ocean here was a shallow body of water, as the coral polyps cannot live below the depth of eighteen fathoms of water, and are inhabitants of the tropics. This ancient coral-bed, formed ages and ages ago, is a silent witness of the insidious changes wrought by nature, silently, but progress- ively, on the surface of the earth and the floor of the mighty ocean. We are now on the boundless, trackless ocean, far away from the pathways of ships engaged in business, commerce, or war. Our route is a lonely, deserted one, and there is no use in looking for puffs of smoke or sails until we expect to be met by the "Roosevelt." The leaden dome of clouds veils the sun, which, only for a few moments, could be seen through a narrow, moving window cut in the gray clouds by an increasing breeze from the land of ice and snow. Animal life has forsaken us, with the exception of a few sea gulls who follow in the wake of the ship with an unfailing hope that sooner or later the gen- erous steward will reward their perseverance and confidence by throwing overboard table and kitchen waste, on which they expect to feast. What con- stant and persistent sea companions these birds are! They are found wherever human beings have 66 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS found their way by sea or ice, and, if they could speak, it would be useless for Commander Peary to make another attempt to find the pole, as these homeless, wandering, fearless, strong-winged birds have, undoubtedly, ere this, looked down upon the desolate pole, in search of a paradise, peopled with fish, harmless, easy of catch, and palatable to their tastes. All credit to these tireless sailors and intrepid explorers! THE SEA GULL "Bold bird of every clime! Swift traveler from pole to pole, Citiz'n of the deep ocean. Sky, ice and eternal snow. Tell the secrets of the pole.". Monday, July 24th. We have spent the last night on board ship. It was a very short one, as the dim twilight did not yield to somber night until well nigh eleven o'clock, and dawn chased away the dying darkness at half-past one in the morning. Night is dying a victim of the approaching, con- quering midnight sun. The master of day is receding, but we are in hot pursuit of him, and to-night will witness the last struggle between night and day. At midnight, it will be light. Henceforth, for the next four weeks, lanterns and lights of any kind will be useless. At midnight we will not see the sun, but we will see his victory over darkness. "Yon light is not daylight, I know it well; It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to thee this night a torch-bearer." —Shakespeare. IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 67 For us, the star-light nights, for the next four weeks, are over. The sun will assert his majesty and power by day and by night, and the smaller lights of heaven, the moon and the stars, will be lost in his overpowering splendor. Continuous daylight for at least a month! What an incentive for work, and what little inducements to court sleep 1 I have seen the midnight sun, in all his splendor, at North Cape, Norway, and remember the short nights in Russia, Siberia, and Alaska; and have learned from experience what nightless days mean in the way of chasing away sleep. During the short summer, the Eskimos have no fixed time for sleep, and I presume the same uncertainty in dividing the twen- ty-four hours properly into time for work and rest awaits us. It has been my experience that con- tinuous daylight for more than a week or two is fatiguing, as custom has taught us to work at least as long as the sun shines and reserve at least half of the night for rest and sleep ; and habit is a stubborn thing, and, only too often, an unconquerable master. We had a clear, although cloudy day with a strong breeze until noon, when a dense fog set in, the sea became smooth, and an icy wind met us — all indi- cations that we were nearing an ice-field. This suspicion was soon confirmed by the looming up, in the dense fog, of a number of immense icebergs. Caution now became necessary. The sails, which had been made use of since morning to increase the speed and steady the vessel, were hauled in, and, at half speed, the little ship crawled along slowly between the bergs. In a few hours we emerged 68 7A^ THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS from the fog into the clear, bracing atmosphere, when only a few icebergs were sighted in the dis- tance; evidently the fog was hovering over the congregation of numerous large bergs. In passing through the fog, the whistle remained silent, because, in this desert ocean, there was no need of announc- ing our presence as there was nothing here but the icebergs, and these are not known to get out of the way of any one. Late in the evening, we obtained a glimpse of the pale sun through a break in the leaden clouds, and, about the same time, encoun- tered a school of whales gamboling near the vessel and throwing jets of water high into the air through the spiracles or blow-holes. One of them, in his curiosity, came almost to the side of the ship, where he appeared, an enormous black mass rising high above the surface of the water. Having satisfied himself as to what the ship really was, he plunged head foremost, into the green element and disap- peared as suddenly as he came into sight. We had nothing to fear from these monsters of the sea. Formerly sailors in small crafts did. "Seamen have a custom when they meet a whale, to fling him out an empty tub by way of amusement, to divert him from laying violent hands upon the ship," — Swift. We were secure, and as we had no evil design on these giants of the sea, the meeting passed off without accident or bloodshed. Sixty feet is about the maximum length of the mysticetus, or Greenland whale. Mr. Scoresby found that of 322 animals, in the capture of which he was concerned, none IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 69 occurred exceeding fifty-eight feet in length; and he, therefore, places no reliance on the report of any specimen exceeding seventy feet. The jets of spray and water, thrown into the air when they spouted, reached a height of at least forty to fifty feet. The tail of the whale does not rise ver- tically like that of most fishes, but is fiat and hori- zontal, only four or five feet long, but more than twenty feet broad. Its power is tremendous. A single stroke throws a large boat, with all its inmates, into the air. Sometimes the whale places himself in a perpendicular position, with the head downwards, and rearing his tail on high, beats the water with frightful violence. On these occasions, the sea foams and the spray darkens the air; the lashing is heard several miles off, like the roar of a distant storm. The tail is the motor of the whale and the fins merely direct and steady the movements. The razor-back whale {Balaena physalis) is a much larger animal. One of these animals, found dead in Davis Strait, measured 105 feet in length. An- other whale found in the arctic waters is the sperm- whale {Physeter microps), the most valuable of all whales. During the first half of the nineteenth century, different species of whale were very numer- ous along the west coast of Greenland, which, for fifty years, was the favorite hunting ground of the British and American whalers. The wholesale slaugh- ter carried on, year after year, by large whaling fleets, has decimated their number to a deploring extent, and has driven most of the survivors farther north to regions less accessible to the whalers. 70 77V THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS Tuesday, July 25th. The average temperature for the day was 44° F. At midnight, twihght and dawn met and banished the darkness of night. The sun, still in hiding, cast his beams of light east and west without showing any partiality to either di- rection. They blended their luminous sparks, in this desolate part of the world, in the form of a dim midnight twilight and beginning dawn. From now on, until the end of the short, arctic summer, moon and stars will be powerless in the presence of the midnight sun, and we can no longer say with Job: "The morning stars sing together, and all the sons of God shouted for ]oy."—XXXVni, 7. This may be unfortunate for us as star gazers when we reach our destination, as "Her clearer stars glow roxind the frozen pole." — Pope. Since we left Sydney, the frequent fogs and cloudy sky have made it impossible for the captain to take an observation. We have sailed by the compass and are, as yet, far from land, and in water from a mile to a mile and a half in depth; hence, there is no danger of shipwreck on rocks. The captain, a very cautious man, is anxious to know exactly where we are, and has been asking himself, again and again , "Where are we? Ye immortal gods, where in the world are we?" — Cicero. This burning question he answered to his satis- faction, when, at 9:15 A. M., the curtain of clouds was lifted from the sun and a sudden flash of intense IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 71 light poured down on the cold, somber surface of the ocean. The noon observation showed that we were in Davis Strait, in latitude 63.1° N., longitude 53° W. The sudden bursting forth of the sun changed the appearance of the ocean, the clouds, and the fog, from which we had just emerged. The face of the ocean, heretofore unfriendly, sullen, of a dull green color, now reflected, mirror-like, the delicate blue of the northern sky, the clouds changed their dull,' leaden hue for a white, fleecy dress and the fog behind us became a delicate grayish white veil, suspended from an invisible support and touching the calm, rippling, blue surface of the ocean. The innumerable water-fowl, seagulls and guillemots in the air and on the water basked in the sunshine, and the mercury in the thermometer, in a few minutes, took a sudden leap from 44° F. to 49° F. The warmth and genial influence of the sun brought cheer on the deck, that had been so long in the shadow of gloomy clouds and chilled by weeping fogs. It was not long before we sighted another field of icebergs, resplendent in the sunshine, sailing in a group in the direction of the current. I counted eleven at one time. They had evidently been on the way for a long time, judging from the extent to which their size and form had been affected by the sun and waves. Some retained their balance, others were leaning toward the weather side, and some of them were turned clear over with the orig- inal base high in the air. During the afternoon, fleeting fogs in the bright sunshine, created pane- 72 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS ramie views, great in their variety and exquisite in their beauty. The fogs were low, not exceeding the masts of the vessel in height, and traveled fast, coming and disappearing every few minutes, leaving spaces between them where the sun painted silvery pathways among the chasing fogs. When the fogs veiled the sun, they paled his face like that of the moon, and brushed away the warm breath of his rays. All objects in the fog, birds and icebergs, were greatly magnified in their size at the expense of a loss of their sharp outUnes. Veiling and unveil- ing of these things were only a matter of a few min- utes, and during the intervals the sunshine was bright and cheering. Repeatedly the action of the rays of the sun on the disappearing, fugitive clouds painted the faint outlines of a rainbow, a fog rain- bow, which, however, always lacked vivid color- ation. The most conspicuous colors were pale drab and a light gray. This kind of a rainbow, in the sailor's language, is called a "fog-eater," and is looked upon with favor, for it means to the sailor that the fogs are low, thin, and fleeting. At eight o'clock in the evening, the fog became more dense and motionless. We saw Greenland sooner than we expected. Sailing at full speed through the dense fog, all at once the ship came to a sudden standstill, the propeller was reversed. The watch had espied land ahead of us. When I came on deck, we were within half a mile of two small, low islands. The vessel was turned seaward and proceeded at half speed. On consulting the chart, the captain ascertained that we were at the entrance of God- IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 73 haab Fiord, and very near the coast. The fog was so dense that the islands were out of sight in a few minutes. We were very fortunate in safely escap- ing the first source of danger in coming so unex- pectedly, in such close proximity, to the treacherous coast of Greenland. The captain had orders to sail for Holstenborg, but we got the first glimpse of Greenland, or rather the islands guarding the Fiord of Godhaab, ninety miles south from Holstenborg. The strong current had carried the "Erik" out of the set course, the fog hid the coast, and before we had expected it, we had found what we were in search of — the land of snow and ice. GREENLAND "The keen, clear air — the splendid sight — We waken to a world of ice; Where all things are enshrined in light As by some Genii's quaint device." — Norton. As I am writing this I am in full view of the bleak, stern, rugged coast of Greenland, half-way between Godhaab and Holstenborg. We are, in- deed, in a new world, but an old one by discovery. From the time we left Sydney, every day revealed to us new and convincing proofs that we were coming nearer and nearer to the limits of animal and vege- table life. My long and ardent desire to see the heart of the arctics is about to be realized. We are fast approaching that part of the arctic world where explorers of the most enlightened nations have made their headquarters for a final dash for the object of their search — the pole. Greenland is nearer to the north pole than any other known land, and hence, for more than fifty years, it has been made the starting point for the race to the pole. This strange country of ice and snow was well known to the civilized nations long before America was dis- covered. History relates that this island-continent, or ice-covered archipelago, was first seen by the Norman rover, Gnunbjorn, and later by Erik the Red, who was banished in 982 A. D. for three years, from Iceland, for murder. After an aimless sea 75 76 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS voyage, he found the east coast of Greenland and landing, probably in midsummer, found the moun- tainsides and valleys covered with grass, called it "Greenland" to distinguish it from the sterile hills and mountains of the island he was forced to leave. As the period of expatriation of this criminal was only three years, we have reason to believe that he gave this seductive name to the island he re-discovered for the purpose of inducing his countrymen to follow him to Greenland on his return to Iceland. It is natural to suppose that, for selfish reasons, he would encourage immigration to the land that had given him safety and shelter while he was under sentence for a capital crime. On his return to Ice- land, he succeeded in interesting his countrymen in his scheme to settle Greenland, and retraced his steps with twenty-five vessels, of which only fourteen reached their destination. The final fate of the second discoverer of Green- land is wrapped in obscurity. In 999 A. D., Leif, his son, visited the court of Norway, where, under the influence of the then reigning king, he was Chris- tianized and returned to Greenland with monks and established a number of colonies near Cape Farewell. These colonies prospered for a long time, but were extinguished by the hostile natives and "black death," an epidemic which raged in Europe from 1 40 2^ to 1404, and at last reached Greenland. The colonies became extinct about the beginning of the sixteenth century. Except the scanty ruins of a church, the only vestiges of these early settlements now remaining consist of low, naked walls, which IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 77 must have served as pens for sheltering cattle, and an inscription, in the Runic language, on a stone slab, found in 1824, planted erect in the ground, on the island of Kingitorsoak, latitude 73° north, bearing the date April 25, 1135. The inscription has never been completely deciphered. Dr. T. Stewart Traill, of Liverpool, has interpreted this much of it: "Oelligr Sigwathson, and Baaos Tor- tarson and Oenrithi Osson, on the Saturday before Gagndag erected Thorward's monument, and wrote this." (And then what remained is unintelligible.) [Gagndag was a holiday of the Catholic church in Iceland.] More than 600 years after the settlement of Greenland by Icelanders, Baffin visited the island and found it bare and bleak, so called it "Land of Desolation." A century after Erik landed, a con- siderable population from Iceland had settled on the west coast. For several centuries, these people kept in touch with Europe, and it is said they also discovered America, which is very likely, as their pursuit of food- yielding sea-animals would, no doubt, extend their chase at least as far as the coast of Labrador. Later, owing to stirring events in Europe, this communication was intercepted and the colonies were practically forgotten, and all knowledge of them was lost after their ex- tinction by hostile natives and the fatal epidemic. The colonists, and the natives associated with them, had become nominally Christians, and maintained a republican form of government, but shortly before the catastrophes that blotted them out, they recog- 78 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS nized the king of Norway as their sovereign. Then follows a blank in the history of Greenland, covering a space of 200 years, until Davis, Hudson and Baffin, the bold English navigators (i 585-1616), visited the west coast and began their history-making explora- tions of the far North. Several expeditions sent by the king of Denmark (i 585-1670) to find the colonies were fruitless. In 1576, Frobisher claims to have re-discovered a part of the long-forgotten Greenland. In 1587, Davis sailed along the west coast as far as latitude 73° north; in 16 10, Hudson advanced to latitude 76° north; and in 16 16, Baffin reached latitude 77^° north, without discovering any signs of a European settlement. In 1727, under Fred- erick IV, of Denmark, after the missionary, Hans Egede, had founded Godhaab in 1721, firm new foothold of Europeans was gained on the west coast. Hans Egede, an enthusiast in the interest of Green- land, succeeded in securing the sum of $10,000 by voluntary subscriptions, and landed, with his family and forty settlers, at Baal river, in latitude 64° north, July 3, 1 72 1. He was afterward appointed mission- ary, by the home government, (Danish), with a small salary. The Danish government occasionally granted some aid to the colony. He labored with great zeal in civilizing and Christianizing the natives until 1736. In 1757, the year before his death, he pub- lished his book, "Description of Greenland," in the Danish language. In 1733, Herrnhuter missionaries were sent to the west coast, and a number of settlements were established. Whalers from Europe and America IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 79 aided the colonists. Since Greenland has been under Danish rule, the southern part has been divided into thirteen colonies, the most northern settle- ment being Upernavik. The colonies and settle- ments are presided over by two superintendents, one for the northern and one for the southern dis- trict. Each colony and each settlement has a gov- ernor and mechanics, who regulate the affairs of the natives and give them instruction. In 1805, Green- land had a population of 6,046; in 1874, 9,843; and in 1885, 9,892. The present number of inhabitants does not exceed 10,000, including the 230 to 250 Danish officials and settlers. New Herrnhut, founded in 1733, is the largest and most prosperous colony. It is the intellectual center of Greenland. It has a seminary and a small printing plant for the dissem- ination of spiritual and educational literature, in the native language. Besides this, there are a number of small trading stations, which are visited about three times every summer by vessels, carrying the mail and bringing supplies in exchange for furs, eiderdown, and ivory, which the natives bring to these places from great distances. Greenland is the largest island in the world. It is an island-continent familiar only to explorers, whalers, and the few white people living there in the service of the Danish government. The many books written by explorers, who at- tempted to reach the pole by making Greenland the base of their expedition to the farthest north, have been read by millions of people; but no one can obtain a correct idea of this strange and mys- 8o IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS terious icebound and ice-covered land, from the best written and most accurate accounts. To know this, the most northern of all known lands, it must be seen. The complicated topography of the coun- try, the interesting native population, the mighty ice-cap, the countless glaciers, the floating moun- tains of ice, the resistless, moving fields of floe-ice, the gigantic sea-animals, the scanty but beautiful flora, the long summer day, and the equally long winter night, are things which must be seen to be understood and appreciated. The average layman is impressed with the idea that Greenland is an unin- habitable wilderness of ice and snow, and it is hard to make him believe that the arctic summer, with its midnight sun, even as far north as Etah, the very heart of the arctics, is delightful. It has a temperature usually ranging from 31° to 55° F., with sea and air teeming with animal life, the valleys and hillsides clothed with verdure, wherever there is enough soil for seeds to germinate, and where beautiful tiny flowers meet the visitor's eye and impart a warmth to the arctic scenery, which must be seen to be felt. Greenland was formerly supposed to be a peninsula of the Ameri- can continent, or an archipelago, connected by a mass of ice. Its insularity was discovered by Com- mander Peary in 1892, who ascertained that a strait, believed to be Nordenskiold's Inlet, stretches from Lincoln Sea on the west to the Arctic Ocean on the northeast coast. From south to north, Greenland is about 1,400 miles in length, and its greatest width, from Cape Hatherton on the west coast to Cape IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 8i Bismarck on the east coast, is 690 miles. The interior of the island is covered by eternal ice, which occupies about four-fifths of its entire surface. This monster ice-cap stretches out arms toward the sea, on both coasts, in the form of innumerable glaciers. This ice-cap ascending in a gradual slope from both coasts until it reaches an elevation of at least 8,000 feet, has been explored more thoroughly by Peary than by any one else. Twice he traveled from coast to coast, encountering terrific winds and blinding snow-storms, which more than once threatened the lives of the entire party. In 1902, he explored the northeastern part of Greenland, and described the coast that no human being had ever seen. Contrary to what had been claimed, he found in this remote part of the island, musk- oxen, polar hares, polar bear and signs of ptarmigan. This giant island lies between the Atlantic Ocean on the east, and Davis Strait, Baffin Bay, Smith Sound, and Kennedy Canal on the west, and extends from its most southern point. Cape Farewell, from latitude 59° 48' to a little above 82° north, and comprises 500,000 square miles, of which 400,000 are occupied by the ice-cap, or, as the Danes call it, "ice-blink." The interior, from north to south, and nearer the east than the west coast, is a mesa of ice surrounded by mountains spreading over the whole island, except along a narrow coast fringe. The interior ice-cap is the last of those glacial con- ditions which for ages submerged northern Europe and northern America in its deluge of ice. Peary 6 82 7A^ THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS estimates that the ice-cap is 1,650 feet in thickness, so that the high plateau is in reaUty an immense glacier, which is moving westward. The more than 100 large coast glaciers are merely prolongations of this interior ice, which reach the seashore between clefts in the coast range of mountains. The traveler who sails along the west coast of Greenland is seldom out of sight of the ice-cap glittering in the sunshine, and, in dark and cloudy weather, lighting up the clouds (ice-blink). Peary calls the interior ice an arctic desert, vastly greater than the African Sahara, and entirely devoid of animal and vegetable life. From the highest point of this ice-cap, fierce winds rake its surface in all directions, and in this way progressive increase in the height of the cap is prevented. The natives know the ice-cap under the name of Sermik soak, and will not venture upon it if they can avoid it. They could never under- stand why Commander Peary was so persistent in exploring it, and, at last, surmised that he was in search of another race in the farthest North. On the east coast, the island is cut by the Franz- Josef and FUgely's Fiords. The land, free of ice, is a narrow strip along the coast, five to twenty-five miles in width, made up of mountains and valleys and deep -branching fiords. Numerous deep fiords, some of them the beds of great glaciers, fed by the ice masses of the interior and a labyrinth of penin- sulas, bays and capes, characterize most of the coast. Cliffs and mountains from 1,500 to 7,000 feet in height skirt the coast almost everywhere. The water from the melting ice and snow is drained IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 83 into the ocean by brooks and rivulets, and some of these watercourses are large enough to merit the name of river. The large glaciers moving down the fiords, of which about 100 reach the sea, break off as ice-bergs at the edge of the sea. Numerous islands, the favorite breeding places of the arctic birds that migrate north during the summer, lie along the west coast, but are less numerous on the east coast. "The two distinctive features are the rugged and mountainous coast belt, extending from two to twenty miles inland, and the ice-cap, which covers all the rest of the island. Mt. Petermann, at the head of Franz-Josef Fiord, is the highest peak, reaching an altitude of 10,725 feet. The altitude of the west coast mountains, south of the Arctic Circle is about 1,600 to 2,000 feet, with a few black jagged summits, that rise 5,000 feet above the sea." (Peary.) Gneiss, granite, and other crystalline formations form the bulk of the base rocks, accessible for study. Sandstone, slate and basalt are also found on the west coast, the latter more especially on Disco Island, where waves have sculptured it into fantastic and picturesque forms. The mineral resources of Greenland are meagre. Cryolite constitutes the principal article of export, yielding an income, in 1874, of over $186,000. The revenue from these mines, located in the southern part of the island, near Ivigtut, the only ones in the world, has been gradually on the increase since. Traces of copper have been found at different points on the west coast. The mineral, endialyte, found near the south end of the island, is also a no inconsiderable 84 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS revenue. At Godhaab, the smoke topaz, and gar- nets of an inferior quality, are also found. Coal of good quality is found on Disco Island, near God- havn, and, it is said, also along the coast of Lady Franklin Bay. In 1886, Peary found at Atane Kerdluk, near Disco, the famous fossil-beds and petrified wood. Between the layers of sandstone were the distinct outlines of leaves and ferns. The presence of coal, and the fossil flora and fauna, show types of vegetation and animal life akin to some now found within the tropics. The early explorers found volcanic craters, one of which emitted steam and smoke when it was discovered. The early history of this strange island is wrapped in mystery. How long a time has elapsed since its mountains were green and tree-clad, and inhabited by animals which, now, are only found in the temperate zones and tropic and sub-tropic climates, is only a matter of mere conjecture. The stern fact remains that, since then, it has become the coldest region in the world. Climate No foreigner has had a longer and greater ex- perience in studying the climate of Greenland than Commander Peary, and I will let him speak on this subject. The climate and seasons within the arctic circle exhibit most peculiar and striking features, which modify, in a singular manner, the whole aspect of nature. The climate is very variable, and is greatly influenced by a branch of the Gulf Stream, the fierce IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 85 winds from the ice-cap, and the amount of floating ice along the coasts, in the form of ice-floes and ice- bergs. Temperatures of — 60° F. to — 70° F., during the winter, have been recorded in northwest Green- land. The mean winter temperature at settlements in south Greenland has been observed as varying between — 70° F. and 20° F. At Upernavik the mean temperature for three summer months is 38° F., and farther south, at Julianshaab, it is 48° F. More snow falls in the south than in the north. The branch of the Gulf Stream flowing north along the west coast is conducive to the habitability of that region. The climate is more severe on the east than the west coast. The mean temperature for eight months, at McCormick Bay ascertained by Mr. Ver- hoeff , the unfortunate member of the Peary expedi- tion, 1 891-1892, was as follows: August 37.340 September 23.28° October 8.57° November — 0.16° December— 14.09° January— 20.53° February— 15.77° March— 22.12° This table appears to agree with observations of the governor of Godhavn, who informed me that in that part of Greenland, and throughout the south- ern part of the island, March is the coldest and most disagreeable month. June, July, and August are the summer months and it is during this time that vegetable life thrives with an energy unknown in the 86 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS temperate zones. A very few weeks, under the magic influence of the midnight sun, suffice for the grass to sprout and grow to a height of four to ten inches, and for the flowers to bud, blossom, and ripen their seed. The pack ice in Melville Bay, Smith Sound, and Kennedy Channel, during the summer months, is one of the most puzzling things to all seafaring men who enter those waters. Kane and other explorers have reported open water north of Smith Sound, and believed that they had dis- covered the open Polar Sea; while others have been imprisoned in ice all summer in Baffin Bay. The only drift-ice we encountered was off Cape Athol, on our upward trip; otherwise, the water was remark- ably, free of ice on the entire voyage, with the excep- tion, of course, of the icebergs, which were almost our constant companions. The natives calculate time by their winters, the season of fast ice, which they call **Opipofc." The snow blizzards, during the winter, are far more dangerous to natives and foreigners than the intense cold, as the native dress is ample protection against the latter, while the cyclonic and impalpable snow bhzzards render outdoor life almost impossible without an effective mechanical protection. It is very strange, and yet it appears nevertheless true, that putrefaction of animal products taikes place more rapidly during the Greenland winter than in the summer. Dr. Kane relates that a reindeer shot on the 2 2d of February, brought on board the "Advance" the next day, was almost uneatable the second day, the temperature being IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 87 at that time — 35° F. The Eskimos say that the extreme cold is rather a promoter than otherwise, of the putrefactive process. To prevent this they withdraw the viscera from the animals immedi- ately after they are killed and fill the cavity with stones. (Kane.) ALONG THE WEST COAST OF GREENLAND "Should I be placed alone in the barren wastes where no trees burst into bloom, and where no flowers cheer my eyes in the brief summer; icebound, mistclad and overcast with leaden clouds! Should I be banished to where the earth forbids man's abode, in lands too near the fiery car of the day-king, I still would find enough to study and admire the wonderful works of creation and to praise the goodness and mercy of the Almighty." We are now sailing along the west coast of this mysterious island of the north, in full sight of its island sentinels and rugged mountains checkered with ice and snow. I look in vain, for trees and shrubs, and at this distance the sprouting grass is obscured by the black and gray of the bald mountain sides. No wonder Baffin called this island "Land of Desola- tion." Seen from a distance, it always leaves this impression. I have been in the hottest countries in the world during the hottest months of the year, and have experienced, in a full measure, the vicis- situdes and lassitudes incident to such a climate; and yet, I have never returned from these travels without a keen sense of delight and gratitude for what I had seen and learned. I learned what wise provision kind Nature has made for the abode of man and beast in such trying climates, and what 89 90 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS she was capable of doing in the way of inducing the fertile soil, under the powerful influence of the tropic sun, to bring forth the most luxuriant vegetation, the most beautiful and fragrant flowers, and a rich harvest of the most luscious fruits, with little or no labor on the part of man. Man lives there at ease, depending largely on Nature's infinite resources in supplying him with the necessities of life, food, clothing, and shelter from the elements. I am now anxious to see and learn what nature has done for the people who live under reverse extremes of climatic conditions. I am satisfied that, even here, in the coldest of all inhabited parts of the world. Nature has provided wisely and well for the abode of man. To what extent my expectations were realized will appear by the results of my personal observations during my short but extremely instruc- tive sojourn along and on the west coast of this empire of ice. Wednesday, July 26th. After leaving the en- trance to Godhaab Fiord, so suddenly and uncere- moniously reached last evening, in the blinding fog, we sailed seaward sixteen miles, and then turned north and followed the coast at this distance, at half speed, owing to the persistence of the fog, until toward morning. At half-past seven o'clock this specter of the sea vanished sufficiently to warrant full speed; the coast was clear, and we looked for the first time upon the range of mountains which wall in the land of ice except where the leaders of the ice-cap have battered it down by floods of ice and mad torrents of water from the ice-cap and glaciers. IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 91 The first view of these mountains suggests the severity of the cUmate of the island. Stem and forbidding is their appearance, treeless, naked, gray, and black, their crevices, hollows, and ravines filled with snow, they rise, wall-like, from the very edge of the ocean, guarding the barren land they inclose against the fury of the sea and the grinding action of icebergs and pack-ice. They have performed this duty well. There they stand, in an attitude of defiance, but little scarred by the aggressive ocean, a strong reminder of "The everlasting hills are not changed like the faces of men." — Tacitus. There is nothing attractive or inviting about them on first sight, their very appearance stamps them as hostile and inhospitable. Cold and un- feeling, they stare you in the face without a single redeeming feature expressive of sympathy or a de- sire to have you come nearer. Looking in an oppo- site direction, over the placid surface of the ocean, a more inviting picture unrolled itself. The water was literally covered with arctic birds, among which the guillemots, gulls and kitti wakes were most numerous; all of them busy in securing their share of sea food. The air was alive with birds, single in pairs, and in flocks, of all sizes, coming from and returning to their breeding places on the countless little islands which fringe the coast. These birds flew, fearlessly, over and on all sides of the passing steamer, unconscious of any sense of danger. Most of them had, probably, never seen such a 92 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS . thing, and all seemed to know that the guns on board remained in their cases. About eleven o'clock the feeding time was over, and very few remained on the water, and nearly every one, seen flying, made a straight line for the rookeries on the shore. Many whales were seen during the day, and one of them, a monster, came along the side of the ship, within easy reach of a harpoon. Only a very few icebergs came in view during the entire day, and all of them were slowly conveyed by the current near the coast. Not a glimpse of the sun did we get, and, for a considerable part of the day, the coast was hidden behind a bank of dense, immobile fog. Dur- ing the afternoon we crossed the Arctic Circle at 66 i° north latitude, and at that time the thermometer registered 42° F. We were reminded that we were now within the Arctic Circle which crosses Greenland a little south of Holstenborg. About seven o'clock, the fog disappeared and un- veiled a panorama of beautiful alpine scenery, in- cluding the first of the numerous Greenland glaciers to our fog-tired and yet expectant eyes. The mag- nificent scenery, so suddenly unveiled by the rising of the fog curtain, resembled, very much, the wilder- ness of Alpine peaks as seen from Rigi Kulm or the summit of the Pilatus. The countless, white-robed mountain spires, some of the highest ones draped in clouds, and all resplendent in the dazzling rays of the evening sun, made a panorama of exquisite beauty. These mountains vary in height from 2,000 to 5,000 feet, the highest one being Sukker- toppen, a familiar landmark for the seamen who visit HAULING A DEAD POLAR BEAR ON DECK IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 93 this coast. It was at the base of the Sukkertoppen that the famous arctic explorer, Doctor Kane, made his first collection of Greenland plants. Nature has her best artists in the arctic regions, as well as in the tropics, and I suppose that what we have seen so far of nature's arctic art only foreshadows her many chef d'ceuvres which await us on our way farther north. Thursday, July 27th. Made good time during the night as we are in the coast current, and a good southern breeze aided the propeller in increasing the speed of the "Erik." At 7 A. M., we had bright sunshine which, however, did not last more than an hour, when heavy clouds again obscured the sky for the balance of the day. We were thirty miles out from the coast, and the low range of mountains, bare and free from snow, appeared in the distance, overcast by a blue haze. The gentle southeasterly breeze barely sufficed to ripple the smooth surface of the sea. Very few birds, no whales, and but a few seal were seen swimming about in the water, exhibiting their rovmd heads and inquisitive eyes, only long enough, above the surface of the water, to satisfy their curiosity and to take in a fresh supply of air, when they disappeared, not to be seen again. Numerous small icebergs were encountered during the forenoon. These, however, were but the advance guard of a large group of immense bergs we met about noon in Disco Bay. I counted, from the deck of the steamer, sixty-seven at one time, not including the small ones. Our course led through the center of this group of floating mountains of 94 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS ice. All of these icebergs had but recently left their birthplace at the head of the bay, and were moving slowly seaward. The elements had dealt gently with these youthful offsprings of some of the largest of Greenland's glaciers. Some of the largest must have been nearly a mile in length and from fifty to one hundred feet in height, as estimated by the captain. The sight was an imposing one, as the sun made his appearance long enough to bring out the marble white of the worn part and the delicate blue and green of the fractured sides and submerged portions of the bergs. The group, taken as a whole, spread over many miles of the smooth, dark green water of the ocean and gave the appearance of a city of tents. Far away in the sea was the largest one, in the form of an immense fort, minus the pointing guns. Near it was another flat colossus that, in the distance, looked like a large exposition building. There were also icebergs which, in their architecture, resembled cathedrals, mosques, houses, huts and sheds. These, as a whole, might be taken for a fairy city on the arid plains of a great desert, with wide boulevards and narrow lanes separating the different buildings. Doctor Sohon was kept busy with his kodak to fix these glorious sights indelibly on the films. "Emblems of purity and cold Messengers from the frozen lands, Cast in wond'rous forms without mold, Seeking peaceful rest on foreign strands." Disco Bay is a broad indentation of the west IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 95 coast of Greenland, sixty miles in length at its base. The largest of the numerous islands in this bay is Disco, with Godhavn the seat of government of this district. We passed this well-known island near enough to obtain a good idea of its size, form and topography. The larger part of the island is made up of precipitous mesas, 1,200 to 1,500 feet above the level of the sea, cut on the seashore by deep ravines and magnificent fiords. These mesas or mountain plateaus are overtowered by numerous peaks, rising to an altitude of 3,000 to 4,000 feet, and much of the interior of the island is buried underneath an ice-cap. We passed the island late in the afternoon and during the evening, and our eyes feasted on the wild mountain scenery illumi- nated by the retiring sun. In the east, toward the mainland, the sky was painted a light salmon color, which, gradually and almost imperceptibly changed into the pale blue of the evening sky, bordering on the margin of the gray clouds which hovered over the island. In the west, the sun was high up in the firmament, trying his best to penetrate, with his arctic rays, the ragged sheet of clouds. An ice- berg of medium size, far out on the ocean, caught a glimpse of the sun and turned into a sapphire of prodigious size, set in the dark blue of the sleeping ocean. The usual variety of sea gulls sailed through the calm evening air, like white and gray kites, and flocks of eiderducks and guillemots floated lazily on the smooth surface of the water like gaily painted decoys. When within easy gunshot range, they 96 IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS dived, head foremost into the water with the speed of Hghtning, leaving a succession of expanding rings on the water, indicating the point of their disap- pearance, to reappear in a few minutes at a safe distance from the ship, which had disturbed their search for the evening meal. The island, from its appearance, seems to have risen in one sudden, great effort from the bottom of the ocean, as the perpendicular walls of basalt rock rise abruptly from the ocean to the snow-clad pla- teaus above. One of the larger glaciers was seen to project some distance over the surface of the sea, and is ready, at any time, to contribute a new iceberg to the army of bergs congregated along the west shore of the island. The ice-cap sends down toward the sea, a number of leaders in the form of glaciers, but few of them ever reach the abyss of the briny deep. Far out in the ocean could be seen a foaming jet of water thrown, perpendicularly into the air, a distance of at least fifty feet; then another geyser-like jet, some distance from the first. These jets, from the two different points, were repeated every few minutes and the whalers on board soon ascertained that these fountains were played by two sperm-whales, the largest of all the ocean animals, the water mastodons of the present age. One of these animals rose high enough to give us an opportunity to judge of the enormity of its size. The black back looked more like a small island than a part of this monster of the sea. This even- ing, at a latitude of little more than 70° north, which we are crossing, is our last chance to see a IN THE HEART OF THE ARCTICS 97 sunset until on the homeward trip we reach again this latitude. Unfortunately, the western horizon is heavily clouded and the setting sun at 11:15 P. M. is in hiding. In the east, where the sun will rise about two hours later, the sky is clearer and the few fleecy clouds are tinted a bright rosy hue, announcing the last sunrise for this time of the year. The space ahead of us, separating the last sunset and sunrise, seems to appear astonishingly small, and will be wiped out to-morrow by the midnight sun. The arctic summer has begun ; the temperature, at noon today, was 55° F., and at midnight, as I am writing this, it is 49° F., average humidity for the