 CHAPTER VIII. OF STORIES OF NORTH POLE ADVENTURE by Frank Mundell. After the return of Perry's expedition in 1827, Captain John Ross submitted to the Admiralty the plan of a voyage for the discovery of the Northwest Passage by way of Prince Regent Inlet. Steam had recently been applied to ocean navigation, and the Captain thought that a steamship might succeed where sailing vessels had failed. The Government, however, did not look with approval on the new venture, and it was not till 1829 that Ross was enabled through the liberality of his friend Felix Booth to fit out an expedition. He accordingly purchased the Victory, a paddle steamer which for some time had been employed between Liverpool and the Isle of Man. The vessel was strengthened and many other improvements were made. Provisions were laid in for a thousand days, and then all was ready to start. Many naval officers volunteered their services, and even offered to bear a share of the expenses. But Ross had already chosen as his second-in-command his nephew, Lieutenant James Ross, who had sailed with Perry in all his expeditions. On the 23rd of May, 1829, the Victory sailed from Woolwich. At the outset the steam engine was found to be a failure. At full speed it did not propel the vessel faster than three miles an hour, and it had frequently to be stopped entirely for repairs. Early in August Lancaster Sound was reached. Sailing thence the explorers passed through Regent Inlet and anchored within a quarter of a mile from the spot where the Fury had been wrecked. It was with no common interest, writes Ross, that we proceeded to the only tent which remained entire. The canisters of preserved meat and vegetables had been piled up in two heaps, and though quite exposed to all the changes of the climate for four years, they had not suffered in the slightest degree. On opening the canisters he was surprised to find that all the provisions were in an equally good condition. From this store Ross replenished his own stock, and then sailed away to make fresh discoveries. Pursuing a south-westerly course a few bays and rivers were named, and then the explorers came upon a land stretching far to the south to which the name of Boothia was given in honour of Felix Booth who had fitted out the expedition. Going on shore with all the officers Ross hoisted the colours and took formal possession of the land in the name of the king. As the season was now rapidly drawing to a close he decided to take up his winter quarters as soon as possible. With great difficulty on account of the quickly accumulating ice a large and sheltered bay was reached which promised a safe harbour, and arrangements for making the victory a comfortable abode were at once begun. An embankment of snow was thrown up around the vessel and the deck was covered to the depth of two and a half feet. The dreary monotony of the winter was unreleaved by any noteworthy incident. A number of Eskimos visited the ship, and one old man who had lost his leg in an encounter with a bear was, to his great astonishment and delight, supplied with a wooden one by the ship's carpenter. The explorers invited several of the natives to dinner, and were greatly astonished at the relish with which they drank large quantities of oil, in preference to any of the other liquids which were offered to them. It was not till the 17th of September 1830 that the ice drifted off the land and the victory was once more afloat. She had only advanced three miles when she was stopped by ice. In a few days she was again frozen in, and destined to spend another winter in almost exactly the same spot as before. This circumstance had a depressing effect on the minds of the men, but their leader did not allow them much time for indulging in melancholy forebodings, and it was during this, the second season of their imprisonment, that the one great and important discovery of the expedition was made. For many years the exact position of the magnetic pole had engaged the attention of navigators, but no satisfactory solution of the question had yet been achieved. To set the matter at rest was now the object of Rosser's ambition. On the 27th of May 1831 he set out, accompanied by his nephew and several men. Crossing the Isthmus of Boothia, and journeying along the shores of a wide inlet on the western side of the peninsula, they at length reached a point which was calculated to be within 14 miles of the great object of their search. Leaving behind the larger part of their baggage and provisions, they hastened forward, and at eight o'clock on the morning of the first of June they stood upon the source of that mysterious agency by which vessels traced their path through the ocean, and towards which millions of compasses are ever pointing, the magnetic pole. There was nothing in the appearance of the surrounding country to indicate so famous a spot. The land was low near the coast, rising about a mile inland into ridges 50 or 60 feet high. Nature had erected no monument to denote the spot which she had chosen as the centre of one of her dark and great powers. The explorers hoisted the British flag, and took possession of the magnetic pole and its adjoining territory in the name of Great Britain and King William IV. The commander also raised a lofty can under which he deposited a canister containing a record of his discovery. On the 13th of June they returned to the ship. In August another attempt was made to get the victory into open water, but she had only sailed four miles when she was again frozen up for the third winter. The health of the men now began to be affected, and it became evident that if in the ensuing summer the ship could not be moved the men must. Their only means of escape was to proceed in the boats, draw them over the ice to fury beach, when, after supplying themselves with a fresh stock of provisions, they might reach Davis Strait and return to England in one of the whalers. Accordingly on the 29th of May 1832 the victory was abandoned, and her crew commenced one of the most laborious marches on record. In little over a month they reached fury beach, where they obtained a plentiful supply of provisions. Launching their boats on the 1st of August they stared to the north, but meeting with a continuous stretch of ice the unfortunate explorers were compelled to return to fury beach, where they spent their fourth arctic winter in a canvas house. Scurvy, that scourge of the polar regions, broke out and one man died. Their situation became daily worse, and Ross knew that if they were not able to get away from the inhospitable coast during the ensuing summer the chances of their surviving another winter were indeed very slight. On the 15th of August 1833 the ice broke up, and they again set out. For once fortune smiled on them, and aided by a favorable breeze they reached Regent Inlet. Here they encamped, but after a few hours rest they were once more afloat, and during the next day made 72 miles. Then the wind fell away, but the men were not now to be denied progress. They got out their oars and rode for 20 hours till they were utterly exhausted. A few days of stormy weather followed, during which they were confined to their tent, but this did not cause them much uneasiness, for they were now near the end of their wanderings. Early on the morning of the 26th of August a sail was seen. Failing to attract the attention of those on board the vessel Ross and his men launched their boat, and by dint of hard rowing approached near enough for their signals to be seen. A boat was at once sent to their aid, and they were taken on board. Strange to say the ship was the Isabella of Hull, the identical vessel which Ross had commanded in his first voyage to the Arctic Seas. She carried them safely to England, where they arrived on the 19th of October 1833, after an absence of five years. During this expedition 600 miles of coastline had been discovered, and the importance of the information obtained regarding the magnetic pole cannot be overestimated. Ross received the credit of having performed a great public service, and the honour of knighthood was conferred upon him. His nephew was promoted to the rank of post-captain, and all who had taken part in the expedition were suitably rewarded. End of Chapter 8 Chapter 9 of Stories of North Pole Adventure by Frank Mundell This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The search for Franklin Nearly two years had elapsed since the departure of the Franklin expedition in the Erebus and Terror, and as no tidings were received the feeling became general throughout England that some disaster had befallen the gallant explorer and his men. A council of naval officers of Arctic experience was held, and it was decided to make preparations for a relief expedition should no news arrived during the summer. The season passed, but the ominous silence continued unbroken, and the suggestion of the council took definite shape. It would be impossible within the limits of this book to give even the briefest account of the numerous expeditions which were sent out to search for Franklin during the next few years. The government fitted out a whole fleet of ships. The Hudson Bay Company equipped several land parties, and Lady Franklin, the noble wife of the heroic explorer, spent the greater part of her fortune in trying to obtain news of her husband's fate. America also came to her aid, and Henry Grinnell, a merchant of New York, sent two vessels to the Arctic Sea at his own expense. The people of Tasmania sent the sum of 1700 pounds to clear away the mystery that enshrouded the fate of their former governor. We must therefore confine our attention to the more important of these gallant enterprises. The first news of the missing expedition was obtained in 1850 by Captain Penny of the Lady Franklin, who discovered the first winter quarters of the Erebus and Terror. On the shores of Beachy Island he found a hut neatly built of stones. On one side of it was a recess which had been evidently used as a fireplace, as there were still a few handfuls of coal lying in it. Scattered about were a number of tins bearing the label of a variety of preserved meat which had been furnished in large quantities to Franklin's expedition. Torn mittens, cotton rags, and a newspaper bearing the date of September 1844 were also found. Further search revealed many other evidences of the former presence of their countrymen, but there was no written record to tell in what direction they had gone. Along the northern shore of the island the graves of three of the crew of the Erebus and Terror were found, with the following inscriptions. Sacred to the memory of John Torrington, who departed this life January the 1st AD 1846 on board HMS Terror, aged 20 years. Sacred to the memory of John Hartnell, AB, of HMS Erebus, died January the 4th 1846, aged 25 years. Thus sayeth the Lord of Hosts, consider your ways, Haggai 1.7. Sacred to the memory of William Brain, RM, of HMS Erebus, died April the 3rd 1846, aged 32 years. Choose ye this day whom ye will serve. Joshua 24 15. I thought, said one of the officers, I traced in the epitaphs on the graves of the men from the Erebus the manly and Christian spirit of Franklin. In the true spirit of chivalry he, their captain and leader, led them amidst dangers and unknown difficulties with iron will stamped upon his brow, but the words of meekness, gentleness and truth were his devise. On the 10th of January 1850 another ship, named the Investigator, sailed from the Thames to take part in the search. She was commanded by Captain McClure, an officer of great courage and experience. His instructions were to proceed to the Arctic Sea by way of bearing straight. On the 21st of August the Investigator crossed the mouth of the Great River McKenzie and in ten days reached Cape Bathurst. The season was now drawing to a close, and instead of the usual continued daylight, three hours of every night were dark. At intervals during this period guns and rockets were fired to serve as signals to any parties of the Franklin expedition that might be in the neighbourhood. While at Cape Bathurst McClure carried on communication with the Eskimos and tried to find out if they knew of the existence of land to the north, but without success. Having obtained a promise from the natives that they would be kind to any white men who came that way, the captain resumed his voyage. Pushing on in a northeasterly direction he entered Prince of Wales Strait, where on the 30th of September he found himself beset by ice and unable to extricate the ship. The early days of October were spent in making everything on board as comfortable as possible, and as the Commander knew that in the Arctic regions despair meant death, he determined to give his men no opportunity for indulging in a weakness which the monotony of the surroundings made only too easy. He accordingly organised a number of expeditions to explore the lands on either side of the Strait. On the 21st of the month he himself set out on a sledge excursion to Barrow Strait about 30 miles distant. The 26th of October 1850 was a red letter day for the explorers and marked an epoch in the history of Arctic discovery. On the morning of that day they ascended a hill 600 feet high before daybreak. As the sun rose a wondrous panorama was revealed. Prince Albert Land stretched away to the eastward and Banksland was seen to terminate in a low point about 12 miles ahead. Away to the north across the entrance to the Prince of Wales Strait extended the frozen waters of that western reach of Barrow Strait now known as Melville Sound. Raised as they were at an altitude of 600 feet above its level, the eyesight embraced a distance which precluded the possibility of any land lying in that direction between them and Melville Island. A northwest passage was discovered. All doubt as to the existence of a water communication between the two great oceans was removed and it now only remained for Captain McClure and his men to perfect the work by traversing the few thousand miles of water between them and their homes. The explorers spent other two winters in the ice but little progress was made towards the goal of their ambition. Scurvy broke out, provisions ran short and at length McClure had reluctantly to abandon his ship. Help, however, was at hand. Just as the first detachment was about to leave the investigator a stranger was seen approaching. When he came within speaking distance he shouted, I am Lieutenant Pym of the Resolute now lying off Melville Island. Deliverance had come at last and the news spread through the ship like wildfire infusing new life into frames almost worn out with privation and disease. Instead of a long and weary march over unknown regions which would most likely terminate in death the men knew that a journey of twelve days would take them on board the Resolute where comfort awaited them. McClure writes, despondency fled the ship and Lieutenant Pym received a welcome, pure, hearty and grateful, that he will assuredly remember and cherish to the end of his days. In April 1854 the explorers left the Resolute to travel over the ice to Beachy Island where a ship was expected to be stationed. The journey was one of great hardship for the cold was so intense that the men's stockings and moccasins were frozen so firmly together that they had to be cut off the feet which were literally encased in ice. On reaching Beachy Island a ship called the North Star was in waiting and they were taken on board. The return journey was commenced about the middle of August. Sailing through Lancaster Sound the North Star entered the Atlantic and the Northwest Passage was accomplished. When the explorers reached England after an absence of four years and ten months they were received with every demonstration of joy. The sum of ten thousand pounds was granted by Parliament to the officers and men, in consideration of their having been the first to pass from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean by the Arctic Sea. McClure had been unable to find any traces of the missing expedition under Sir John Franklin and the fate of the gallant explorer was still a mystery. End of Chapter 9. Chapter 10 of Stories of North Pole Adventure by Frank Mundell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Fate of Franklin As time passed on and expedition after expedition returned without bringing any news of the Erebus and Terror, public anxiety increased, but nothing further was heard of the missing explorers till 1854. Then some definite traces were found by Dr Ray, who for several years had been engaged in the search by the Hudson Bay Company. While exploring the western shore of Boothia he fell in with an Eskimo to whom he put the usual question. Have you seen white men before? He said no, but he had heard of a number having died far to the west. Noticing a gold cap band round the man's head the doctor asked him where he had obtained it, and he said it had been got where the dead white men were. Ray bought the cap band and told him that if he or his companions had any other things which had belonged to the white men to bring them to Repulse Bay, where they would obtain good prices for them. Later in the year a party of Eskimos arrived at Repulse Bay, and from them Ray obtained the information that in the spring about four years before forty white men had been seen dragging a boat and sledgers over the ice near King William Land. None of the party could speak the Eskimo language so well as to be understood, but by signs the natives were led to believe that their ships had been crushed by the ice. The bodies of thirty men had afterwards been found on the mainland and five others on an island near it. Some had died in the tents, some had been buried, but many of them died as they fell and were left behind, the survivors being too exhausted to attend to their burial. Ray also bought from the natives a number of articles which were known to have been in possession of the officers of the expedition, including some silver spoons and forks, an order of merit in the form of a star, and a small plate engraved Sir John Franklin C.B. The weight of such evidence was too great to be resisted, and the government awarded the discoverer and his men ten thousand pounds for having been the first to bring any trustworthy news of the lost explorers. Still, however, nothing was known of the actual fate of the expedition, and Lady Franklin, the noble-hearted wife of the lost navigator, wrote an eloquent and pathetic appeal to the government, urging them to send out a final expedition to search for any possible survivor. She pleaded that the bones of the dead might be sought for and gathered together, that their buried records be unearthed or recovered from the hands of the Eskimos, and, above all, that their last written words, so precious to their bereaved families and friends, be saved from destruction. This final and exhaustive search, she added, is all I seek in behalf of the first and only martyrs to arctic discovery in modern times, and it is all I ever intend to ask. This request was, as it seems to us, heartlessly refused, on the plea that, as there was no prospect of saving life, the risk inseparable from such an enterprise would not be justified. But the noble and true woman, who had already fitted out three expeditions without success, resolved to employ what remained to her of her fortune in fitting out a final search expedition. Fortunately the time had not come when Englishmen would stand idly by and allow a woman to undertake such an enterprise single-handed, and from many quarters came substantial offers of help. A steam-yacht named the Fox was purchased and made ready without loss of time. Captain McClintock, who had seen much service in the polar sea, was chosen for the command. His instructions from Lady Franklin were contained in the following words. As to the objects of the expedition and their relative importance, I am sure you know that the rescue of any possible survivor of the Erebus and Terror would be to me, as it would to you, the noblest result of our efforts. On the 1st of July, 1857, the Fox set sail from Aberdeen with a crew of 25 men, 17 of whom had previously served in the Arctic search. The second officer in command was Lieutenant Hobson. At the end of the month they arrived off the coast of Greenland, where they wintered. On the 17th of April, 1858, the ice broke up and McClintock determined to try and push forward. Though the Fox was in frequent danger of being crushed to pieces by huge masses of floating ice, she steamed bravely on, and entered Lancaster Sound. Sailing through Barrow Strait, McClintock steered in a southerly direction for 25 miles down Peel Strait, when he had to return on account of the ice. Several Eskimos were seen, but none of them had any knowledge of the missing ships or men of Franklin's expedition. The winter of 1858-59 was spent in Bellot Strait, which divides Boothia from North Somerset, and preparations were made for a series of sledge excursions in the spring. On the 17th of February, 1859, Captain McClintock started on a preliminary journey southward along the western shore of Boothia. Having arrived in the neighbourhood of the magnetic pole without finding any traces, the gallant captain began to fear that his journey would prove a failure. On looking behind them, however, the explorers were surprised to see four men following in their footsteps. McClintock and the interpreter at once advanced to meet them. During the conversation he observed a naval button on one of their dresses, and on his asking where it had been obtained, the Eskimos replied that it came from some white people who were starved upon an island where there are salmon, that is, an island in a river, and that the iron of which their knives were made came from the same place. McClintock hired the Eskimos at the rate of a needle for each man to build him a snow hut which they finished in an hour. Here the explorers took up their abode and told the Eskimos that they wished to trade with them and promised to buy everything which belonged to the starved white men if they would come to the hut on the morrow. Next day the population of the whole village arrived, amounting to 45 souls, from aged people to infants in arms. McClintock purchased all the relics they produced, consisting of six silver spoons and forks, a silver medal, part of a gold chain, several buttons, and knives made of the iron and wood of the wreck, as well as bows and arrows constructed of materials obtained from the same source. None of the people had seen the whites alive. Only one man had seen their bones upon the island where they died. With high hopes McClintock and his men reached the ship on the 14th of March and immediately began to hasten the preparations for the departure of the Sledge Expeditions. This journey completed the discovery of the entire coastline of Arctic North America. On the 2nd of April 1859 Captain McClintock and Lieutenant Hobson set out in search of the relics of the Franklin Expedition. Each of the leaders had a sledge drawn by four men, besides a dog sledge and dog driver. No natives were seen till the 20th when two Eskimo families were met with. From them some important relics and still more important information were obtained. They learnt that two ships had been seen by the natives of King William Island. One of them had sunk in deep water, but the other was forced on shore by the ice. That must either be the Erebus or the Terror, was McClintock's in wood observation, and he determined without loss of time to discover the position of the stranded ship. With this object in view he dispatched Lieutenant Hobson to examine the west coast of the island, while he proceeded to explore the east coast. On the 7th of May McClintock came across another Eskimo village. Here he purchased six pieces of silver plate bearing the crests and initials of Franklin and several of his officers. The natives said that there was a wreck distant five days journey, but little of it now remained, as their countrymen had carried almost everything away. There had been many books, but all had been destroyed by the weather long since. An old woman and a boy who had last visited the wreck were brought before McClintock and closely questioned by the interpreter. She said, many of the white men dropped by the way as they went to the Great Fish River. Some were buried and some were not. Having obtained all the information which these people could give, the explorers set off without delay, and pushed on in the direction which, if their information was correct, would certainly yield the most splendid results. On the 25th of May, while walking on the shore, along which the survivors of the Franklin expedition must have marched, McClintock came upon a human skeleton partly exposed, with here and there a few fragments of clothing appearing above the snow. From the loose bonot in which the neckerchief was tied, the captain concluded that the victim had been a steward or officer's servant. A clothes brush and a pocketbook were found near at hand. The old woman's brief story, unsurpassed in graphic simplicity, was confirmed. They fell down and died as they walked along. Pressing on for twelve miles, McClintock came upon a small can, which the gallant Hobson, who had out-marched him, had built. It contained a note from the lieutenant, telling how he had reached this point six days before, without having seen anything of the wreck. But he had found a record for which, during the past ten years, thousands of miles of Bleak Coast had been explored, many hardships endured, and not a few valuable lives sacrificed. On an ordinary ship's paper, weather-stained, frayed with rust and ragged from damp and contact with the tin in which it was enclosed, the secret of the tragic fate of Franklin's expedition was revealed. 28th May, 1847. Her majesty's ships, Erebus and Terra, wintered in the ice, in latitude 70 degrees five minutes north, longitude 98 degrees 23 minutes west. Having wintered in 1846-7 at Beachy Island, in latitude 74 degrees 43 minutes 28 seconds north, longitude 91 degrees 39 minutes 15 seconds west, after having ascended Wellington Channel to latitude 77 degrees, and returned by the west side of Cornwallis Island. Sir John Franklin commanding the expedition. All well. Party consisting of two officers and six men left the ships on Monday the 24th of May, 1847. Graham Gore, Lieutenant. Charles F. Devaux, Mate. Round the margin of the paper were written the following notes. April the 25th, 1848. Her majesty's ships, Terra and Erebus were deserted on the 22nd of April, five leagues, nor nor west of this, having been beset since the 12th of September, 1846. The officers and crews consisting of 105 souls under the command of Captain F. R. M. Crozier landed here in latitude 69 degrees 37 minutes 42 seconds north, longitude 98 degrees 41 minutes west. Sir John Franklin died on the 11th of June, 1847, and the total loss by deaths in the expedition has been to this date nine officers and 15 men. Signed F. R. M. Crozier, Captain and Senior Officer. Signed James Fitz James, Captain H. M. S. Erebus, and start tomorrow the 26th for Great Fish River. Resuming his journey, McClintock proceeded to the western extremity of the island, which he named Cape Crozier. Shortly after this he found a large boat that had belonged to the Franklin expedition, and which contained two human skeletons and numerous other precious relics, including five watches, two guns, the fragments of a pair of worked slippers, and a few books, all of them scriptural or devotional works, except the vicar of Wakefield. A small Bible contained numerous marginal notes and whole passages underlined. Still following in the footsteps of Hobson, numerous other relics were found. The gallant lieutenant, though so weak that he could barely drag his pain-racked and scurvy stricken body along, worked almost night and day with an enthusiasm which no hardships could lessen. So thoroughly did he examine every spot that McClintock, coming over the same ground after him, could not discover any trace that had escaped him. Nothing, however, was seen of the wreck of which the Eskimos spoke, and the explorers concluded that the vessels had drifted south from the position in which they were abandoned, and that they were destroyed off the southwest coast of King William Island, having thus actually made the northwest passage as a glance at the map will show. Both Franklin and McClintock completed the northwest passage, but by different routes, the one to the south and the other to the north of Banksland. Franklin, however, made his passage two years before McClintock. Nothing now remained for the explorers but to make their way back to the ship, which they reached on the 19th of June after an absence of 78 days, during which they had explored about 500 miles of coast. On the 10th of August the fox started on her homeward voyage, and 40 days later she reached the English Channel. When the men were paid off, one of the first uses they made of their well-earned money was to present Captain McClintock with a gold chronometer as a mark of esteem and goodwill. A statue of Sir John Franklin was erected in London as a national monument to the great explorer. On the pedestal are the following words. Franklin, to the great navigator and his brave companions, who sacrificed their lives in completing the discovery of the northwest passage, AD 1847-8, erected by the unanimous vote of parliament. On Beechey Island, where the three graves were found, Lady Franklin caused to be erected a handsome monument bearing the inscription, to the memory of Franklin, Crozier, Fitzjames, and all their gallant brother officers and faithful companions who have suffered and perished in the cause of science and the service of their country. This tablet is erected near the spot where they passed their first Arctic winter and whence they issued forth to conquer difficulties or to die. It commemorates the grief of their admiring countrymen and friends and the anguish subdued by faith of her who has lost in the heroic leader of the expedition the most devoted and affectionate of husbands. And so he bringeth them unto the haven where they would be. 1855 End of Chapter 10 Chapter 11 of Stories of North Pole Adventure by Frank Mundell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. American Expeditions One of the best known names in the history of Arctic exploration is that of Dr. Alicia Kent Kane. Though his expedition is usually considered as belonging to the Franklin search, it more properly comes under consideration in a chapter devoted to the part taken by our American kinsmen in endeavouring to open up a way to the North Pole. For it was conducted in a region in which there was no possibility of finding any traces of the great navigator and his companions. This is proved by the fact that the relics were found nearly a thousand miles to the south of where Kane was searching for them. On the 30th of May 1853 the expedition sailed from New York in the advance and reached Greenland on the 1st of July. After visiting several of the Danish settlements Kane sailed northward and entered Smith Sound. He was the first man either European or American who had navigated the upper waters of this strait since its discovery by Baffin in 1616 and his experiences were not of a kind to tempt others to follow his route. Terrible storms were encountered and several times the advance was with difficulty saved from being crushed to pieces by icebergs. Five times in three days the ship grounded and on one of these occasions she healed over so abruptly that the crew were thrown out of their births. In one of the numerous inlets of Smith Sound Kane took up his winter quarters and in the ensuing spring he sent out a number of sledge parties to explore to the northward. The sufferings of the men during these excursions were terrible in the extreme. Several died while others suffered the amputation of parts of their feet for frostbite. The chief discovery of the expedition was made on the 4th of May 1854. Seven days previously Kane left the ship with a sledge party to explore the eastern shore of Smith Sound. After struggling on through snow up to their waist which obliged them to unload the sledgers and carry the cargo they reached a most gigantic glacier stretching along the coast in an unbroken line for 45 miles and varying in height from 300 to 500 feet. This the largest glacier known to exist Kane named after Humboldt the great scientist. Returning to the ship Kane sent forward another party to explore the coast north of the great glacier. William Morton the strongest man in the ship was chosen to lead the enterprise. After passing the Humboldt glacier he pushed onward over a solid area choked with birds and frozen fields. As he advanced the ice became weaker and the dogs seized with fear refused to advance. At length the firmer ice was reached and shortly afterwards open water was seen two miles farther up the channel. In a perfect fever of excitement he pushed on alone and climbing from rock to rock he at length reached a point from which he gazed on the waters of an open polar sea. Morton named the point on which he stood Cape Constitution and then made his way back to the ship. The advance had now spent two winters in the ice and the state of affairs on board was appalling. Every man was stricken with scurvy and the ship was little better than a floating hospital. Provisions were exhausted and it seemed as if the region from which they had expected fame would at last be their grave. Kane therefore decided to abandon the ship and make for the nearest Greenland settlement. The retreat began and for 84 days the miserable survivors dragged themselves along till they reached a Danish settlement on the west coast of Greenland. Here they found an American man of war in which they returned to the States in safety. The next American expedition did not set out till 1860. In that year Dr Hayes sailed from Boston in the Schooner United States with a crew of 14 men to continue the exploration of Smith Sound and prove the existence of an open polar sea. The explorers arrived safely at the entrance to the strait but here their troubles begun. Storms came on and all attempts to make the passage of the Sound were in vain and they were compelled at length to take shelter in a small bay some distance to the southward of Kane's winter quarters in the advance. In this bay which Hayes named Port Folk they awaited the arrival of spring. On the 4th of April 1861 Hayes set out on a sledge excursion to the north. After a journey of 46 days he had the satisfaction of reaching a point farther north than that attained by Morton in the previous expedition. His further progress was, however, stopped by extensive cracks in the ice. Wishing to find out what lay beyond he climbed to the summit of a rugged cliff about 800 feet high and was rewarded for his toils by a sight which, to his mind, accomplished the object of the expedition. A broad crack starting from the middle of the bay stretched over the sea and, uniting with other cracks as it meandered to the eastward, it expanded as the delta of some mighty river discharging into the ocean and under a water sky which hung upon the northern and eastern horizon it was lost in the open sea. All the evidences showed that I stood upon the shores of the polar basin and that the broad ocean lay at my feet. The little margin of ice which lined the shore was being steadily worn away and within a month the whole sea would be free from ice. Without a boat it was impossible to proceed farther so Hayes, after planting a flag to mark the limit of his discovery, started on his return march and reached the ship on the third of June. His journey had occupied two months and during that time he had travelled 1300 miles. The expedition was now at an end and as soon as the ice broke up all sail was set and the United States arrived safely in Boston Harbour at the end of October. A third attempt was made to reach the North Pole in 1871 by Captain Charles Francis Hall, an American navigator. He set sail from New London on the third of July in a small steamship named the Polaris. The progress made by the expedition was unusually rapid and he reached Greenland about the middle of August. Sailing northward he entered Smith Sound which he navigated for a distance of 250 miles, passing through the open polar sea of Morton and Hayes which turned out to be only an open reach of Smith Sound. He thus carried his ship nearer to the North Pole than any previous explorer. Father progress was impeded by ice but there were indications of water beyond into which Hall was anxious to penetrate. Acting however on the advice of the sailing master who seems to have been afraid of going too far the captain decided to return and seek a harbour for the winter. The Polaris was laid up in an inlet to which she gave her name. While preparations were being made for wintering Captain Hall started Northwoods on a sledge journey. A few bays were discovered and named and on the 24th of October he returned to the ship. Three hours afterwards he took suddenly ill and in a fortnight he died. Three days later he was buried by lantern light, the coffin being hauled to the grave on a sledge over which the American flag was spread. Four years after his death the English explorers placed a brass tablet at the foot of his grave bearing the following inscription. Sacred to the memory of Captain C. F. Hall of the United Stateship Polaris who sacrificed his life in the advancement of science on the 8th of November 1871. This tablet has been erected by the British Polar Expedition of 1875 who following in his footsteps have profited by his experience. After the death of Hall the command of the expedition fell on the sailing master Captain Buddington. On the 12th of August 1872 the Homewood voyage was commenced. Shortly afterwards the Polaris was caught in the ice and drifted out into Baffin Bay. During the night of the 15th of October the ship was severely nipped. In a moment of panic Captain Buddington sheltered throw everything on the ice. Immediately the wildest confusion prevailed. Stores, provisions, bundles were seized and thrown overboard. One of the officers with a party of men went on to the flow and tried to put things in order when suddenly the ship broke out and flew before the wind leaving nineteen hands on the flow with the boats and provisions. The castaways drifted for a distance of sixteen hundred miles suffering starvation and incredible hardships. At length on the 29th of April 1873 they were picked up by a ceiling steamer and landed at St John's Newfoundland. Meanwhile Captain Buddington and the men on board the Polaris had fared little better. Driven northward by the fury of the guile the vessel had gone ashore on the east side of Smith Sound. From the 17th of October 1872 till the 3rd of June 1873 the survivors, numbering fourteen men, lived on the beach. Then having built two boats from the timbers of the wreck they sailed south and were picked up by a Dundee Waila in Melville Bay. End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 of Stories of North Pole Adventure by Frank Mundell This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Great Expedition of 1875 During the long period of twenty years, from the time that the investigator was abandoned in the ice, the British government appeared to have considered arctic discovery as a play that was hardly worth the somewhat expensive candles used in its illumination, and the honour of Great Britain as the first maritime power of the world was maintained in the arctic seas wholly by private enterprise. The success of the American expeditions under Cain, Hayes and Hall, roused many of our most distinguished geographers and men of science to action. And early in 1874 they petitioned the government to send out an expedition of discovery to the arctic regions to uphold the naval renown of England. It was not, however, till the 17th of November that Mr. Disraeli, the Prime Minister, announced that Her Majesty's government had determined to lose no time in organising a suitable expedition to explore the region of the North Pole. Energetic steps were at once taken to hurry on the preparations. Two ships, named the Alert and the Discovery, were commissioned and George S. Nairs, the distinguished captain of the Challenger, was ordered home from Hong Kong to take the command. So Leopold MacLintock superintended the fitting out of the vessels, and no labour or expense was spared that might ensure the success of the expedition. On the 25th of May, 1875, the Alert and the Discovery left Portsmouth Harbour amid the hearty cheers of a vast crowd of spectators. Before starting, Captain Nairs received a telegram from the Queen, saying, I earnestly wish you and your gallant companions every success, and I trust that you may safely accomplish the important duty you have so bravely undertaken. To this, Nairs sent the following short and sailor-like reply. Her Majesty may depend on all doing their duty. A stormy passage across the Atlantic thoroughly tested the qualities of the ships, and it was not till the 6th of July that the coast of Greenland was reached. Here, several days were spent in taking on board additional stores and coal. An interpreter, an Eskimo guide, and 24 dogs were also shipped. Starting again on the 22nd, both vessels proceeded in a northwesterly direction for Smith Sound, and seven days later Nairs cast anchor in Port Falck. Some time was now spent in examining the neighbouring country, and numerous articles which had belonged to Hall's ill-fated expedition were found. From an altitude of 700 feet, with the horizon distinctly visible, no ice was in sight, and there was every prospect of the expedition attaining a higher latitude without trouble. But within 24 hours after the ships had sailed, they were locked in by ice, 25 miles higher up the strait. This was another instance of the ever-changing nature of the Arctic regions, and caused Nairs, in his narrative of the expedition, to draw attention to the deceptive impressions inexperienced people naturally received when, from a lofty lookout, they observe a sea unborded by ice. From our former position, the inexperienced observer would conclude that there was an open polar sea. From our present position, he would certainly conclude that his father's progress was for ever stayed, and that the sooner he looked for winter quarters, the better. On the morning of the 4th of August, the ice seized off the land, and the voyage was resumed. Father's progress would have been impossible without the aid of steam, for the ice gathered round the ships in such thickness as to completely shut them up. In this dilemma, a novel expedient was resulted to. Of the two ships, the discovery had the sharper bow, so she went first, and, charging the ice at the top of her speed, forced her way into the pack, burying her bowels in it as far aft as the foremast. It speaks well for the strength of the vessel that, after several days of such work, she had sustained no serious damage. Lady Franklin Bay was reached on the 24th of August, and, finding there a suitable place for winter quarters, Nairs decided to leave the discovery and push northward with the alert. Taking Lieutenant Rawson and seven men of the discovery with him, Captain Nairs set sail. On reaching Robeson Channel, he was detained for some time by ice. Escaping by the power of steam, which enabled him to force his way through the pack, he sailed up the channel, and on the 1st of September, the first triumph of the expedition was achieved. At noon on that day, says Nairs, having carried her majesty's ship into a higher latitude than ever before attained, the ensign was hoisted at the peak. The explorers had now arrived on the shore of the Arctic Ocean, but they found it exactly the opposite of an open polar sea, and on the 16th of September the alert was effectually closed in for the winter. Everything was now made snug on board, the ship was housed over, and all the provisions and stores that were not likely to be harmed by the weather were placed on shore. The winter passed away so pleasantly that, not until the sun actually returned on the 1st of March, did we in any way realize the intense darkness we must have experienced for so long a period. During the early days of spring, a light sledge-party set out, and, after a journey of 60 miles, reached Discovery Bay, the winter quarters of their consort, where they found all well. In April the great sledge excursions were commenced. Seven sledgers, with fifty-three officers and men, all in excellent health and spirits, set out from the alert. The northern expedition, under Captain A. H. Markham and Lieutenant Parr, equipped for an absence of seventy days, was to force its way northward over the ice. The western expedition, under Lieutenant Oldridge, was to explore the north shore of Grantland, and the Greenland expedition, under Lieutenant's Beaumont and Rawson of the Discovery, was to explore the northern shores of Greenland. Each sledge carried extra tea in lieu of the midday allowance of spirits. Both officers and men were unanimous in favour of the change, and willingly put up with the misery of standing still in the cold during the long halt needed for the purpose of boiling the water, and all agreed that they worked better after the tea lunch. In May scurvy broke out on the alert, but the symptoms were not so serious as to cause any alarm. It spread, however, with great rapidity, and in a few weeks twenty of the crew were under the doctor's care. A message from Captain Stevenson of the Discovery at this time stated that four of his men were also down with the disease. Considering the ample equipment and carefully prepared provisions with which the two ships were furnished, the outbreak was both inexplicable and unlooked for. The disease was not, however, confined to those left behind in the ships. On the 8th of June, Lieutenant Parr arrived with the news that nearly the whole of the crew belonging to the northern sledge-party had been attacked with scurvy and were in need of immediate assistance. Markham had succeeded in bringing the Invalids to a point thirty miles from the ship, but each day was adding to the number of the sick and making progress more difficult. He had therefore decided to halt and send Parr forward to bring relief. A rescue party was immediately dispatched under Lieutenant May, but before it arrived one of the men died. Fresh food and medicines saved the lives of the remainder, and by easy stages they returned to the ship. Out of the thirty-seven men composing this expedition, the two officers alone escaped the disease. Markham's journey was productive of great results. It had been an incessant battle to overcome ever-recurring obstacles, each hard-won success stimulating them for the next struggle. Instead of advancing with a steady walk, more than half of each day was spent by the whole party facing the sledge and pulling it forward a few feet at a time. Under these circumstances the distance attained, short as it may be considered by some, was truly marvellous. Though they had only reached a point about eighty miles from the ship, the total distance travelled was two hundred and seventy-six miles on the outward, and two hundred and forty-five miles on the homeward journey. Markham and his brave companions had carried the Union Jack within four hundred miles of the North Pole, and they would have attained a still higher latitude, had not the condition of the men made an immediate return imperative. Fears for the condition of the Western explorers now cause nears to send out a sledge-party under Lieutenant May, with the necessary remedies should they be found suffering from scurvy. On the nineteenth of June he met them near the spot to which Markham had returned without assistance. Scurvy had been at work among this party also, and there was only one man, besides Lieutenant Aldridge, who was not completely prostrated. Relief had come just in the nick of time, for they would not have been able to travel another day. Many of the poor fellows were so weakened by their sufferings that they burst into tears on the arrival of help. Under the influence of the medicines and generous diet which May had brought with him, the scurvy stricken men gradually recovered and reached the ship after an absence of eighty-two days. Lieutenant Aldridge had explored two hundred and thirty miles of coast, the greater part of which had never before been visited. No land or appearance of land was seen at any time to the northward or westward, from which circumstance nears concluded that no land could possibly exist within an attainable distance from the coast. The Greenland expedition had fared no better than the other two. Shortly after they had started, one of the men developed symptoms of scurvy, and had to be taken back by Lieutenant Rawson. Beaumont continued his journey, and succeeded in reaching latitude eighty-two degrees eighteen minutes north, and discovering what seemed to be an island, but most probably a continuation of the Greenland coast. Scurvy was by this time rampant among the men, and the Lieutenant had no alternative but to turn back. Gallantly the little party struggled on, sometimes making no more than a mile a day. Beaumont now began to fear that he would not be able to reach the ship without terrible loss, for it was evident that many of the men were on the point of death. Fortunately, just when affairs had reached a crisis, Lieutenant Rawson came up, bringing with him one of the doctors of the expedition. Lime juice and a plentiful supply of fresh meat soon restored the invalids to their usual health, and they were able to make their way to the ship. Only two men lost their lives, and it was entirely due to the timely arrival of Lieutenant Rawson that more fatalities did not occur. It now became necessary for Nairs to decide his future course of action, whether he should remain another winter in his present quarters, or return to England. He made up his mind to the latter alternative, for the following reasons. He says, on considering the result of the spring sledging operations, I concluded that, owing to the absence of land trending to the Northwood, and the polar pack not being navigable, no ship could be carried north on either side of Smith Sound beyond the position we had already attained, and also that from any attainable position in Smith Sound it was impossible to advance nearer the pole by sledgers. Accordingly, on the 31st of July the alert sailed out of her winter quarters and steered for Discovery Bay. A month later the two vessels in company steamed down the strait, and on the 10th of September reached open water. On their arrival in England the explorers were received with great enthusiasm, and the results of the expedition caused general satisfaction. Captain Nairs had carried the alert to a higher latitude than had ever before been reached in ships. He had discovered that the polar sea was a sea of ancient ice, and not, as had been said, an open sea. His sledgers had reached a point nearer the pole than had ever been attained, and he had conducted the whole expedition in a manner which showed that the heroic spirit that had won for Britain all the great prizes of arctic discovery in the past still remained unimpaired. End of Chapter 12 Chapter 13 of Stories of North Pole Adventure by Frank Mundell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Voyage of the Jeanette George W. DeLong of the United States Navy, after some experience in the arctic regions, expressed a strong desire to solve the problem which had baffled so many. He therefore made a request to Mr. James Gordon Bennett of the New York Herald to fit out an expedition to the North Pole. Mr. Bennett at once fell in with the proposal, and eager inquiries were made for a vessel suitable for the purpose. Great difficulty was experienced, as the owners of good sealers or whilers were not willing to sell their vessels at any price. At length, the Pandora, the property of Sir Alan Young and used by him as a pleasure yacht in the arctic regions, was secured, and its name changed to the Jeanette. Writing to Mr. Bennett, DeLong said, There are three ways for us to send the expedition. Smith Sound, Bearing Straight, and East Coast of Greenland. Of the three, I am in favour of Bearing Straight. In this letter, the explorer gave an estimate of the expense of a three-year's cruise, and asked for seal-skin clothing, a number of dogs, and a quantity of coal, to be provided at Alaska, and to be picked up on the route. In the meantime, Bennett had consulted Dr. Peter Mann, the German geographer, who had been studying the North Pole problem for thirty years. He declared that the pole could never be reached by Smith Sound or Baffin Bay, and that it was only through pride that the English held to this route. Peter Mann agreed with Bennett that the pole could only be reached by a dash, and should be done in one summer. He even professed himself willing to try the experiment for a three-months cruise. Wintering in the arctic regions was, in his opinion, a decided mistake. It is only fair to say that Bennett did not quite agree with the doctor in the possibility of visiting the pole in a three-months trip. The genet was thoroughly refitted at South Hampton, and from thence proceeded to San Francisco. Here numerous alterations were made, until at length DeLong expressed himself perfectly satisfied, declaring that the vessel's outfit was simply perfect for ice navigation, astronomical work, magnetic work, gravity experiments, or collections of natural history. He says, We have a good crew, good food, and a good ship, and I think we have the right kind of stuff to dare all that man can do. The founder of the expedition was not able to witness the departure of the genet when she set out on her voyage. He, however, sent a telegram to the captain, expressing confidence in his energy and pluck, and an assurance that if the vessel was icebound he should spare neither money nor influence to send assistance. He also wished the men to be informed that if they lost their lives in the undertaking, their widows would be under his protection. In July 1879 the genet left San Francisco, accompanied by the schooner Fanny, carrying an extra supply of coals and provisions. Reaching St. Michael's about the middle of August, DeLong found the fur clothing and the dogs and sleds waiting his arrival. Here he took on board the cargo and provisions, which had been brought by the schooner, also to natives, to act as interpreter and dog driver. Having passed through Bering Strait, the vessel made for Herald Island, and drifted into an ice flow, to which it was anchored. For fear of being closed in, the ship was kept turning round in circles during the night, but little progress was made, for the ice was between 12 and 15 feet in thickness. Wherever a crack or a narrow opening showed itself, the vessel was judiciously rammed, and then, by backing and ramming, forced her way slowly through. On the 6th of September the ship was unable to proceed any farther, and preparations were made to reach Herald Island by means of a sledge. This was successfully accomplished, but the island was reported to be of no use as a station for winter quarters. A few days afterwards, two large bears were caught in traps, and both of them were killed. When weighed, they were found to be four hundred and six hundred pounds, respectively. The vessel continued to drift in the ice flow for several days, and during this time, two warruses, each more than one thousand pounds in weight, were shot. This was a valuable addition to the dog's food. Though fast in the ice, their position gave the captain considerable cause for anxiety. The trembling and creaking of the ship, and the grinding and crushing of the masses of ice, were an evidence of the tremendous pressure which was being exerted. DeLong describes the view of the ice flow as magnificent, though awful, and their position, like that of living over a powder mill, waiting for an explosion. This experience of wintering in the pack was by no means agreeable, though the monotony, which is inseparable from an arctic winter, was relieved by numerous hunting expeditions in which bears and other animals were killed, and afforded a supply of fresh meat. On some days neither the men nor the dogs dared to venture on the ice, which was very treacherous and unsafe. They therefore suffered very much from want of exercise. Near the end of November, the Jeanette had a severe nip. The pressure became so great that the deck seemed ready to burst open. If she had not been very strong there can be little doubt that she would have been cut in two. DeLong says that November was, a month of gales, ice pressures, and discomforts, mental and physical. He hoped that December would drift them quietly and peaceably nearer the pole. Christmas Day, 1879, was the dreariest the captain had ever spent in his life, yet up to this time the expedition had met with no serious mishap. It had, however, been very unfortunate, and the ice had closed round the vessel at an unusually early date, thus preventing them from making any progress. It was not until the officers and crew sat down to a grand banquet, prepared to celebrate the occasion that they were for a time lifted out of their surroundings and able to forget the depressing influences which now seemed to be always present. Nothing further of any importance occurred till the 19th of January, 1880, when a most alarming discovery was made. The ship was leaking. An examination showed that two streams of water, an inch in diameter, were making their way into the four parts of the vessel. The pumps were at once manned, and with a view to finding out the extent of the damage, a number of men were sent to remove the ice round the bowels. But after they had dug away some of the pieces, the ice formed again so quickly that the attempt had to be given up. No sign of injury could be seen outside, and a careful scrutiny inside showed nothing but the flowing of the water. Dalon could therefore do nothing but keep the steam pump at work, till an opportunity occurred of examining the vessel more thoroughly. Fortunately the general health of the explorers suffered in no way from their long confinement, and with the return of spring, preparations were made to resume the voyage as soon as the ice broke up. In this, however, they were doomed to disappointment, and it was not until the first of September, 1880, that the genet was again on an even keel. This was but the beginning of fresh troubles. The leak, which had stopped on the 3rd of July after months of hard pumping, again broke out as mysteriously as before, and the pumps were once more brought into use. The explorers had now spent a year in the ice, and they were only 150 miles to the northward and westward of where they entered it. The ice was again closing rapidly round them, and, heartsick with disappointment and delay, they prepared for the second winter in the pack. We cannot, says Dalon in his journal, prevent any disaster that may befall us, and we have made all possible provision for its coming. Human strength is of no avail, and human wisdom of no value. In our position we have done all that man can do, and we must leave the rest with God. The records of these long dreary months are as uninteresting to read as they must have been tedious to endure. Eating, sleeping, and taking observations with an oft-recurring bear-hunt followed each other with monotonous regularity. The conditions of the surroundings remained unchanged, and the prospects of deliverance from their icy prison came to be regarded by the explorers as more and more remote. During sixteen months they had drifted in the ice pack a distance of 1,300 miles, far enough, if in a straight line, to reach the pole and beyond it. But they were actually only 220 miles from where they had been beset, and for a year they had pumped a leaking ship. It speaks volumes for the stelt-hearted spirit of the men, that they did not give way to despair and become victims to disease and the rigors of the climate. On the 16th of May 1881 land was seen in the distance. It proved to be a small island, and was named after the Jeannette. A few days later another island was seen, which the explorers named Henrietta Island. This was the first land their eyes had rested on since leaving Harold Island. The ship was now drifting in the pack rapidly northward, and as she advanced the condition of the surroundings became daily more threatening. The cracking and grinding of the ice had become a familiar sound to the explorers by this time, so they usually paid little attention to these disturbances. On the 12th of June, however, considerable alarm was felt owing to the Jeannette being caught between two immense masses of ice. To provide against any emergency that might arise, some of the boats were lowered and hauled to a safe distance. Orders were also given to convey the sleds and a quantity of provisions to the same spot. The pressure continued with tremendous force, and it soon became evident that the Jeannette was doomed. The deck began to give way, and the starboard side seemed to be on the point of being crushed inwards. Clothing, bedding, books and papers were now removed without delay, and in a short time the ship began to fill. At four o'clock on the morning of the 13th she went down in seventy-seven degrees, fourteen minutes, fifty-seven seconds, north latitude, and one hundred and fifty-four degrees, fifty-eight minutes, forty-five seconds, east longitude. That night the explorers camped on the ice, and early next morning began their preparations for a march to the south wood. Several days were spent at this work, and on the 18th the party, consisting of eight officers and twenty-five men, started over the ice, hoping to reach the new Siberian islands, and from thence to make their way to the coast of Siberia. They had with them three boats mounted on runners, and two sledgers, carrying a supply of provisions for sixty days. The march over the frozen ocean was a terrible undertaking. During the next three months the men had to struggle with almost insurmountable obstacles, compelled to drag their heavy boats and loads of provisions over broken and shifting fields of ice, and at times ferrying them over water-spaces. Their progress was necessarily slow, amounting on one occasion to no more than half a mile in six hours. On the 11th of July, after twenty-three days of toil and anxiety, Bennett Island was discovered. Here they landed, and spent eight days in making the necessary repairs to the boats. Just as they were about to set out again, a westerly guile, accompanied by fog, sleet and snow, compelled them to delay their departure till the 16th of August. A further delay of ten days was afterwards forced upon the party by the condition of the ice, which rendered progress impossible. A few days later open water was reached, and they launched their boats with the feeling that their sufferings were nearly at an end. On the 12th of September the three boats were separated during a guile off the Siberian coast, and about ninety miles northeast of the delta of the River Lena. One of them was never heard of again. Delong's boat, with a crew of thirteen men, succeeded in reaching land, but they had to abandon their boat, about two miles from the beach, and wade ashore through the ice and mud, carrying the remainder of the provisions on their backs. They landed frostbitten and exhausted, and began a painful journey in search of some inhabited village. Manfully they struggled on, though each day the number of their party was reduced by death. At length, in despair, the captain sent two sailors forward to try and bring relief. These men were eventually found and rescued by some natives, who treated them with the greatest kindness. After their departure Delong and the few survivors with him were reduced to terrible straits, and after eating their remaining dog they perished from hunger and cold about the end of October. Meanwhile the second boat, with eleven of a crew under Chief Engineer Melville, had succeeded in reaching an inhabited village, where the famished and frostbitten men were kindly received and supplied with food. Sometime after his arrival in the village, Melville met the two seamen whom Delong had sent forward, and he at once started to try and rescue his missing commander. In this he was unsuccessful, and, after nearly losing his own life from cold and hunger, he was obliged to give up the search. In the following spring he again set out, and on the 23rd of March discovered the bodies of Delong and his ill-fated companions, almost covered with the snow, together with the records of the expedition. On a rising ground some distance from the river, Melville buried the bodies and set up a wooden cross to mark the spot. On his return journey he met some of the members of a relief expedition, which had been sent out in June 1881 by the United States government to search for the Jeannette. Their vessel had been burned while in winter quarters, and they, unwilling to give up the search, had travelled across Siberia. Having now ascertained the fate of Delong, they returned home. Previous to this, the steamer Alliance, sent out in the spring of 1881 at the request of Mr. Bennett, had failed to find any traces of the lost explorers, though she sailed as far north as the 82nd parallel. So ended the Jeannette expedition. Though the lofty aims of its projectors were not realised, it was not through any fault of the officers and men. The record of the hard ships they endured, and the difficulties they overcame, is one of the grandest stories of arctic heroism. Sacrifice is nobler than ease. Unselfish life is consummated in lonely death, and the world is richer by this gift of suffering. End of Chapter 13 Chapter 14 of Stories of North Pole Adventure by Frank Mundell. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Farthest North The most famous enterprise of more modern times is that known as the Lady Franklin Bay expedition, which sailed from America in 1881 in command of Lieutenant Greeley. The object of this expedition was to reach Discovery Bay, and there erect a dwelling from which exploring parties could be sent out and observations made of the phenomena of the arctic regions. The explorers, 25 in number, embarked on board the Proteus, and after a short and prosperous voyage they reached their destination on Smith Sound. Without delay a small wooden house was erected to which they gave the name of Fort Conga, and then on the 26th of August the Proteus sailed south on her homeward voyage, intending to return in the following year with a fresh supply of provisions and other necessaries. After the departure of the ship, Greeley and his companions busied themselves in putting their house in order in anticipation of their first arctic winter. Never before had men in such a position a greater number of home comforts at their command. They were housed in a well-built wooden dwelling with a plentiful supply of provisions, and they had a library containing, besides reference books and works on arctic exploration, about a thousand novels and magazines. A school was held three times a week, and for a short period a newspaper was conducted. Lectures and impromptu concerts were also given. Christmas Day was celebrated with due ceremony, and the rooms were tastefully decorated, and for the first time under such circumstances each man received a Christmas present, which had been sent by kind and thoughtful friends. With the return of spring several sledge-parties were organised. The equipment for each sledge consisted of an army tent, with sleeping bags of well-tanned buffalo hide, capable of holding two men. Dr. Pavey, the medical officer of the expedition, explored the coast some distance to the north of Cape Joseph Henry. Lieutenant Greeley led a party into the interior of Grinnell land, and Lieutenant Lockwood was entrusted with the exploration of the North Greenland coast. The journey performed by this last mentioned officer was the crowning feet of the expedition, and ranks as the greatest in arctic history. The party set out on the 3rd of April, 1882, with an advanced sledge hauled by dogs and driven by an Eskimo, and four supporting sledgers drawn by members of the expedition. Early in the journey the intense cold began to tell on the men. Their sleeping bags were like iron, and sleep was out of the question. Our teeth were clattering and clashing together in a most dangerous manner. One of the men had his toes frozen in his sleeping bag, and the cook had his fingers frozen while preparing breakfast. Storms came on, and made it impossible for the men to cook their meals, and on one occasion they spent 45 hours in the sleeping bags, suffering discomforts that words would fail to describe, and which can only be understood by those who have had a similar experience. Another violent gale was encountered a few days after this. While at work the men were frequently blown over, and one gust of wind lifted the dog's ledge with its weight of 200 pounds bodily from the ground. The tents were repeatedly blown down, and travelling gear scattered, and the sleeping bags were so badly frozen that the strength of four men was required to open them. The journal of this excursion is a long record of storms and violent guiles, varied by an occasional breakdown of one or other of the sledges. Well might one of the explorers remark, we imagine that no other party in the Arctic regions has ever passed through discomfort similar to those experienced by us. On the 28th of April Lockwood decided to send back the supporting party, and advance with the dog's ledge and two men. On the following day he set out, accompanied by Sergeant Brainard and an Eskimo dog driver. 14 or 15 hours of constant work brought them in 25 marches to Lockwood Island. Here the lieutenant took an observation, and found his position to be in 83 degrees, 23.8 minutes north. Of this event Brainard writes, we had now reached a higher latitude than ever before attained by mortal man, and on a land farther north than was supposed by many to exist. We unfurled the glorious stars and stripes to the exhilarating northern breeze with an exaltation impossible to describe. The honours of the farthest north, which had been held by England for three centuries, were thus won for America by Lieutenant Lockwood and his trusty companion Brainard. Provisions were now running short, so after spending two days on the island for rest and observation, they set out on the return journey which was safely accomplished on the 1st of June, after an absence of 60 days. The second winter spent at Ford Conger did not pass as pleasantly as the first. The steamer which was expected with fresh stores did not arrive, and the men had consequently to be put on short allowance. Fortunately their health and spirits continued excellent, and they looked hopefully forward to the arrival of the relieving vessel in the spring. But these hopes were doomed to disappointment. The summer came, but the steamer did not arrive, and Greeley had therefore no alternative but to order the retreat to the south. A small steam launch named the Lady Greeley and three boats were their only means of escape. On the 9th of August, 1883, Greeley and his companions set out on their hazardous voyage to the south, and as they hoped, to safety. The launch led the way with the boats in tow. To provide against serious loss arising from an accident to any of the boats, the records, provisions, coal, and other supplies were divided among the party as equally as possible. Heavy fogs were encountered, and the launch had to be slowed down to half speed, for the presence of large masses of ice made rapid steaming extremely dangerous. On the 13th, the voyagers came to an enormous flow-burg about 60 feet high, which effectively stopped their father's progress. There was nothing to be done, but wait till the mass was broken up or removed. Next morning, however, they found that a passage had been opened for them in a most unexpected manner. During the night, the flow had split in two and divided, leaving an opening just wide enough to admit the Lady Greeley and her attendant boats. The narrow cleft presented to our view afforded perhaps the most wonderful passage ever traversed by any voyagers. Scarcely a dozen feet wide, it was over a hundred yards long, and its perpendicular walls of opaque ice reached fully fifty feet skyward above our passing boats. I recall no other mass which has so impressed me with the grandeur and scope of nature's forces and works. The sufferings of the party from cold were intense, and the cramped positions which they had to occupy in the boats chilled them to the very marrow. Strong northeasterly gales drove the boats against the shore ice, and it was with the most utmost difficulty that they were saved from being crushed to pieces. The launch had eventually to be abandoned, and for thirty days they lived on a moving flow, which might at any moment have broken up and proved their destruction. At length, after toiling over a distance of nearly four hundred miles, the weary and worn-out little band reached Cape Sabine in October, fortunately without loss of life. Little did they think that nearly two months before their arrival, the relief ship had gone down near that very spot. Their troubles now began in real earnest. Through the mismanagement and consequent failure of an expedition sent to their assistance, they were doomed to spend the winter on this inhospitable shore. An entry in Lieutenant Lockwood's diary at this time gives us the keynote of their position. Our tea is extremely weak. This is a miserable existence, only preferable to death. Get little sleep day or night on account of hard sleeping bag and cold. The stock of provisions was gradually sinking. A few foxes and some game, which were shot from time to time, warded off absolute starvation. But many deaths occurred, and the summer of 1884 found their numbers reduced to fourteen. Among the early victims was Lieutenant Lockwood. No pen, says Greeley, could ever convey to the world an adequate idea of the abject misery and extreme wretchedness to which we were reduced. Insufficiently clothed for months without drinking water, destitute of warmth, our sleeping bags frozen to the ground, our walls, roof and floor covered with frost and ice, subsisting on one-fifth of an arctic ration, almost without clothing, heat or food. Yet we were never without courage, faith and hope. Seal-skin gloves, pieces of leather, and the oil-tanned skin from one of the sleeping bags formed the staple portion of their diet during the last dreadful months of 1884. At last, on the morning of the 23rd of June, relief came. Captain Scotchley of the Thetis, who had been sent out by the American government to search for the lost explorers, had succeeded in penetrating the icy barrier and reaching the survivors when they were just at the last gasp. Greeley was found lying under the folds of the tent, so exhausted that he could hardly speak. Months of constant anxiety had reduced the once strong man to the utter helplessness of a child. Some of his comrades were even in a worse plight. Two lay on the ground with hands and feet frozen off, and another was dying. Out of the twenty-five men, who, three years before, had left their native country in the pride of strength and manhood, only five returned. The remainder had found rude graves in the regions which they had given their lives to open up, and their names were added to the glorious roll of those who search the storm-surrounded pole. End of Chapter 14