 CHAPTER IX. NEWS. The Polar Circle was cleared at last. On the thirteenth of April at midday, the forward past abreast of Holsteinborg, picturesque mountains rose up on the eastern horizon. The sea appeared almost free from icebergs, and the fuser-ware could easily be avoided. The wind weared round to the southeast, and the brig, under her mizzen sail, brigantine top sails, and her top-gallon sail, sailed up by fin-sea. It had been a particularly calm day, and the crew were able to take a little rest. Numerous birds were swimming and fluttering about, round the vessel. Amongst others the doctor observed some al-ka'ala, pouring much like the teal, with black neck, wings and back, and white breast. They plunged with velocity, and their immersion often lasted forty seconds. The day would not have been remarkable if the following fact, however extraordinary it may appear, had not occurred on board. At six o'clock in the morning Richard Shandon, re-entering his cabin after having been relieved, found upon the table a letter with this address. To the commander, Richard Shandon, on board the forward Baffin Sea. Shandon could not believe his own eyes, and before reading such a strange epistle he caused the doctor, James Wall and Johnson to be called, and showed them the letter. That gross, very strange, Sir Johnson, it's delightful, sought the doctor. At last, cried Shandon, we shall know the secret. At the quick hand he tore the envelope and read as follows. Commander, the captain of the forward is pleased with the coolness, skill and courage that your men, your officers and yourself have shown on the late occasions, and begs you to give evidence of his gratitude to the crew. Have the goodness to take an orderly direction towards Melville Bay, and from thence try and penetrate into Smith's strait. The captain of the forward, K. Z., Monday, April the 13th, abreast of K. Palsingham. Is that all, cried the doctor. That's all, replied Shandon, and the letter fell from his hands. Well, said Wall, that chimerical captain doesn't even mention coming on board, so I conclude that he never will come. But how did this letter get here, said Johnson? Shandon was silent. Mr. Wall is right, replied the doctor, after picking up the letter and turning it over in every direction. The captain won't come on board for an excellent reason. And what's that, asked Shandon quickly. Because he is here already, replied the doctor simply. Already, said Shandon, what do you mean? How do you explain the arrival of this letter, if such is not the case? Johnson nodded his head in sign of approbation. It is not possible, said Shandon energetically. I know every man of the crew. We should have to believe, in that case, that the captain has been with us ever since we set sail. It is not possible, I tell you. There isn't one of them that I haven't seen for more than two years in Liverpool. Later your supposition is inadmissible. Then what do you admit, Shandon? Everything but that. I admit that the captain, or one of his men, has profited by the darkness, the fog, or any thing you like, in order to slip on board. We are not very far from land. There are eskimo kayaks, that pass and perceive between the icebergs. Someone may have come on board and left the letter. The fog was intense enough to favour their design. And to hinder them from seeing the break, replied the doctor, if we were not able to perceive an intruder slip on board, how could he have discovered the forward in the midst of a fog? That is evident, exclaimed Johnson. I come back, then, said the doctor, to my first hypothesis. What do you think about the Shandon? I think what you please, replied Shandon fiercely, with the exception of supposing that this man is on board my vessel. Perhaps, at the dwell, there may be amongst the crew a man of his, who has received instructions from him. That's very likely, I did the doctor. But which man, asked Shandon, I tell you, I have known all my men a long time. Anyhow, replied Johnson, if this captain shows himself, let him be man or devil, we'll receive him. But we have another piece of information to draw from this letter. What's that? asked Shandon. Why, that we are to direct our path, not only towards Melville Bay, but again into Smith's Straits. You're right, answered the doctor. Smith's Straits echoed Shandon mechanically. It is evident, replied Johnson, that the destination of the forward is not to seek a north-west passage, as we shall leave to our left the only track that leads to it. That is to say, Lancaster Straits. That's what forbids as difficult navigation in unknown seas. Yes, Smith's Straits, replied Shandon, that's the route the American cane followed in 1853, and at the price of what dangers? For a long time he was thought to be lost in those dreadful latitudes. However, as we must go, go we must. But where, how far, to the pole? And why not? cried the doctor. The idea of such an insane attempt made the boatswain shrug his shoulders. After all, resumed James Wall, to come back to the captain, if he exists, I see nowhere on the coast of Greenland, except Disco or Aparnavik, where he can be waiting for us. In a few days we shall know what we may depend upon. But, asked the doctor of Shandon, aren't you going to make known the contents of the letter to the crew? With the commander's permission, replied Johnson, I should do nothing of the kind. And why so, asked Shandon? Because all that mystery tends to discourage the men, they are already very anxious about the fate of our expedition. And if the supernatural side of it is increased, it may produce very serious results. And in a critical moment we could not rely upon them. What do you say about it, commander? And you, doctor, what do you think? asked Shandon. I think Johnson's reasoning is just. And you, Wall? Because there's better advice forthcoming, I shall stick to the opinion of the gentleman. Shandon reflected seriously during a few minutes, and read the letter over again carefully. Gentlemen, said he, your opinion on this subject is certainly excellent, but I cannot adopt it. Why not, Shandon? asked the doctor. Because the instructions of this letter are formal. They commend me to give the captain's congratulations to the crew, and up till today I have always blindly obeyed his orders, in whatever manner they have been transmitted to me. And I cannot, but, said Johnson, correctly dreaded the effect of such a communication upon the minds of the sailors. My dear Johnson, answered Shandon, your reasons are excellent, but read. He begs you to give evidence of his gratitude to the crew. Act as you think best, replied Johnson, who was besides a very strict observer of discipline. Are we to muster the crew on deck? Do so, replied Shandon. The news of a communication having been received from the captain spread like wildfire on deck. The sailors quickly arrived at their post, and the commander read out the contents of the mysterious letter. The reading of it was received in a dead silence. The crew dispersed, a prey to a thousand suppositions. Clifton had heard enough to give himself up to all the wanderings of his superstitious imagination. He attributed a considerable share in this incident to the dog captain. And when by chance he met him in his passage, he never failed to salute him. I told you the animal could write, he used to say to the sailors. No one said anything to answer on this observation, and even Bell, the carpenter himself, would not have known what to answer. Nevertheless, it was certain to all that in default of the captain, his spirit or his shadow watched on board, and henceforward the wisest of the crew abstained from exchanging their opinions about him. On the first of May at noon, they were in sixty-eight degrees latitude, and fifty-six degrees thirty-two minutes longitude. The temperature was higher, and the thermometer marked twenty-five degrees above zero. The doctor was amusing himself, with batching the antics of a white bear and two cubs on the drink of a pack that lengthened out the land. He tried to give chase to them by means of the canoe, but the animal of a rather war-like disposition. Rapidly led away its offspring, and consequently the doctor was compelled to renounce following them up. Chili Cape was doubled during the night under the influence of a favorable wind, and soon the high mountains of Disco rose in the horizon. But how, in Bay, the residence of the Governor-General of the Danish Settlements was left to the right. Shandong did not consider it worthwhile to stop, and soon outran the Eskimo Piroggs, who were endeavoring to reach the strip. The island of Disco is also called Whale Island. It was from this point that on the 12th of July, 1845, Sir John Franklin wrote to the Admiralty for the last time. It was also on that island on the 27th of August, 1859, that Captain Mark Klyntok set foot on his return, bringing back Alas, proofs too complete of the loss of the expedition. The coincidence of these two facts were noted by the doctor, that melancholy conjunction was prolific in memories, but soon the heights of Disco disappeared from his view. There were, at that time, numerous icebergs on the coasts, some of those which the strongest souls are unable to detach. The continual series of ridges showed themselves under the strangest forms. The next day, toward 3 o'clock, they were bearing on to Sanderson Hope, to the northeast. Land was left on the starboard at a distance of about 15 miles. The mountains seemed tinged with a red-colored bistro. During this evening several whales of the finnish species, which have fins on their backs, came playing about in the midst of the ice trails, throwing out air and water from their blow-holes. It was during the night between the 3rd and 4th of May, that the doctor saw for the first time the sun graze the horizon without dipping his lamino's disc into it. Since the 31st of January the days had been getting longer and longer, till the sun went down no more. To strangers not accustomed to the persistence of this perpetual light, it was a constant subject of astonishment and even of fatigue. It's almost impossible to understand to what extent obscurity is requisite for the well-being of our eyes. The doctor experienced real pain in getting accustomed to this light, rendered still more acute by the reflection of the sun's rays upon the planes of ice. On May the 5th the forward headed the 72nd parallel. Two months later they would have met with numerous whalers under these high latitudes. But at present the straits were not sufficiently open to allow them to penetrate into Bathins Bay. The following day the break, after having headed Woman's Island, came inside of Opparnavik, the most northerly settlement that Denmark possesses on these coasts. End of Chapter 9. Chapter 10 of the English at the North Pole. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Chapter 1 of the Adventures of Captain Hatteras. The English at the North Pole, by Jules Verne. Chapter 10. Dangerous Navigation. Shandon, Dr. Clowbony, Johnson, Fokker and Strong, the cook, went to insure in the small boat. The governor, his wife and five children, all of the Eskimo race, came politely to meet the visitors. The doctor knew enough Danish to enable him to establish a very agreeable acquaintance with them. Besides, Fokker, who was interpreter of the expedition, as well as Icemaster, knew about twenty words of the Greenland language. And if not ambitious, twenty words will carry you far. The governor was born on the island and had never left his native country. He did the honors of the town, which is composed of three wooden huts for himself and the Lutheran minister of a school and magazines stored with the produce of wrecks. The remainder consists of snow huts, the entrance to which is attained by creeping through a hole. The greater part of the population came down to greet the forward, and more than one native advanced as far as the middle of the bay in his kayak, fifteen feet long and scarcely too wide. The doctor knew that the word Eskimo signified raw fish-eater, and he likewise knew that the name was considered an insult in the country, for which reason he did not fail to address them by the title of Greenlanders, and nevertheless only by the look of their oily seal-skin clothing, their boots of the same material, and all their greasy-tainted appearance, it was easy to discover their accustomed food. Like all Istio-pagans, they were half eaten up with leprosy, and yet for all that were in no worse health. The Lutheran minister and his wife, with whom the doctor promised himself a private chat, were on a journey towards Proven on the south of Apernavik. He was therefore reduced to getting information out of the governor. This chief magistrate did not seem to be very learned. A little less, and he would have been an ass. A little more, and he would have known how to read. The doctor, however, questioned him upon the commercial affairs, the customs and manners of the Eskimo, and learned by signs that seals were worth about forty pounds delivered in Copenhagen, a bare-skin forty Danish dollars, a blue fox-skin four, and a white one two or three dollars. The doctor also wished, with an eye to completing his personal education, to visit one of the Eskimo huts. It is almost impossible to imagine of what a learned man, who is desirous of knowledge, is capable. Happily the opening of those hovels was too narrow, and the enthusiastic fellow was not able to crawl in. It was very lucky for him, for there is nothing more repulsive than that accumulation of things, living and dead, seal-flash or Eskimo-flash, rotten fish, and infectious-wearing apparel, which constitute a greenland hovel, no window to revive the unbreathable air, only a hole at the top of the hut, which gives free passage to the smoke, but does not allow the stench to go out. Fokker gave these details to the doctor, who did not curse his corpulence the less for that. He wished to judge for himself about these emanations, sui generis. I am sure, said he, one gets used to it in the long run. In the long run depicts Dr. Klawbony in a single phrase. During the ethnographical studies of the Vorsy doctor, Shandon, according to his instructions, was occupied in procuring means of transport to cross the ice. He had to pay four pounds for a sledge and six dogs, and even then he had great difficulty in persuading the natives to part with them. Shandon wanted also to engage Hans Christian, the clever dog driver, who made one of the party of Captain McClintock's expedition, but unfortunately Hans was at that time in southern Greenland. Then came the grand question, the topic of the day. Was there in Aparnavik a European, waiting for the passage of the poorward? Did the governor know if any foreigner, an Englishman probably, had settled in those countries? To what epoch could he trace his last relations with whale or other ships? To these questions the governor replied that not one single foreigner had landed on that side of the coast for more than ten months. Shandon asked for the names of the last whalers seen there. He knew none of them. He was in despair. You must acknowledge, doctor, that all this is quite inconceivable. Nothing at Cape Farwell, nothing at Disco Island, nothing at Aparnavik. If when we get there you repeat nothing in Melville Bay, I shall greet you as the only captain of the forward. The small boat came back to the break towards evening, bringing back the visitors. Strong, in order to change the food a little, had procured several dozens of either dark eggs, twice as big as hen's eggs and of greenish color. It was not much, but the change was refreshing to accrue fed unsalted meat. The wind became favorable the next day, but however Shandon did not command them to get under sail. He still wished to stay another day, and for conscience's sake, to give any human being time to join the forward. He even ghost the sixteen pounder to be fired from hour to hour. It sundered out with a great crash amidst the icebergs, but the noise only frightened the swarms of molly-murks and roaches. During the night several rockets were sent up, but in vain, and thus they were obliged to set sail. On the 8th of May, at six o'clock in the morning, the forward, under her top sails, fore sails and top gallant, lost sight of the Opernavik settlement and the hideous steaks to which were hung seal-guts and deer-punches. The wind was blowing from the south-east, and the temperature went up to 32 degrees. The sun pierced through the fog, and the ice was getting a little loosened under its dissolving action. But the reflection of the white rays reduced a sad effect on the eyesight of several of the crew, Walston the gunsmith, gripper, Clifton and Bell, were struck with snow blindness, a kind of weakness in the eyes, very frequent in spring, and which determines amongst the Eskimo numerous cases of blindness. The doctor advised those who were so afflicted and their companions in general to cover their faces with green gauze, and he was the first to put his own prescription into execution. The dogs, bought by Shandon at Opernavik, were of a rather savage nature, but in the end they became accustomed to the ship. The captain did not take the arrival of these new comrades too much to heart, and he seemed to know their habits. Clifton was not lost to remark the fact that the captain must already have been in communication with his Greenland brethren, as on land they were always famished and reduced by incomplete nourishment. The only thought of recruiting themselves by the diet on board. On the 9th of May the forward touched within a few cable lengths, the most westerly of the Baffin Isles. The doctor noticed several rocks in the bay between the islands and the continent, those called crimson cliffs. They were covered over with snow, as red as carmine, to which Dr. Cain gives a purely vegetable origin. Lobony wanted to consider this phenomenon nearer, but the ice prevented them approaching the coast, although the temperature had a tendency to rise. It was easy enough to see that the ice parks and ice streams were accumulating to the north of Baffin Sea. The land offered a very different aspect from that of Opernavik. Immense glaciers were outlined on the horizon against a grayish sky. On the 10th the forward-left Hingston Bay on the right, nearer to the 74th degree of latitude. Several hundred miles westward the Lengaster Channel opened out into the sea. But afterwards that immense extent of water disappeared under enormous fields of ice, upon which hammocks rose up as regularly as a crystallization of the same substance. Shandong had the steam put on, and up to the 11th of May the forward wound amongst the sinuous rocks, leaving the print of a track on the sky, caused by the black smoke from her funnels. But new obstacles were soon encountered. The paths were getting closed up in consequence of the incessant displacement of the floating masses. At every minute a failure of water in front of the forward sprawl became imminent, and if she had been nipped it would have been difficult to extricate her. They all knew it and thought about it. On board this vessel, without aim or known destination, foolishly seeking to advance towards the north, some symptoms of hesitation were manifested amongst those men accustomed to an existence of danger. Many forgetting the advantages offered, regretted having ventured so far, and already a certain demoralization prevailed in their minds. Still more increased by Clifton's fears, and the idle talk of two or three of the leaders, such as Penn, Gripper, Warren and Volston. To the uneasiness of the crew were joined overwhelming fatigues. For on the 12th of May the brick was closed in on every side, her steam was powerless, and it was necessary to force a road through the ice fields. The working of the saws was very difficult in the flows, which measured from six to seven feet in thickness. When two parallel grooves divided the ice for the length of a hundred feet, they had to break the interior part with hatchets or hand spikes. Then took place the elongation of the anchors, fixed in a hole by means of a thick auger. Afterwards the working of the capstan began, and in this way the vessel was hauled over. The greatest difficulty consisted in driving the smashed pieces under the flows in order to open up a free passage for the ship, and to thrust them away they were compelled to use long iron spiked poles. At last what was the working of the saws, the hauling, the capstan and poles, incessant, dangerous and forced work, in the midst of fogs or thick snow, the temperature relatively low of talmik suffering and moral uneasiness all contributed to discourage the crew and react on the man's imagination. When sailors have an energetic, audacious and convinced man to do with, who knows what he wants, where he is bound for, on what end he has in view, confidence sustains them in spite of everything. They make one with their chief feeling strong in his strength and quiet in his tranquility. But on the break it was felt that the commander was not sure of himself, that he's hesitated before his unknown end and destination. In spite of his energetic nature his weakness showed itself in its changing orders, incomplete manours, stormy reflections and the southern details which could not escape the notice of the crew. Besides Shandon was not captain of the ship, a sufficient reason for argument about his orders. From argument to a refusal to obey, the step is easy. The discontented soon added to their number the first engineer, who up to now had remained a slave to his duty. On May the 16th, six days after the forwards arrival at the icebergs, Shandon had not gained two miles northward and the ice threatened to freeze in the break till the following season. This was becoming dangerous. Towards eight in the evening Shandon and the doctor, accompanied by Gary, went on a voyage of discovery in the midst of the immense plains. They took care not to go too far away from the vessel, as it was difficult to fix any landmarks in those white solitudes, the aspect of which changed constantly. The refraction produced strange effects. They still astonished the doctor, where he thought he had only one foot to leap. He found it was five or six, or the contrary, and in both cases the result was a fall, if not dangerous, at least painful, on the frozen ice as hard as glass. Shandon and his two companions went in search of a practicable passage. Three miles from the ship they succeeded, not without trouble, in climbing the iceberg, which was perhaps three hundred feet high. From this point their view extended over that desolated mass, which looked like the ruins of a gigantic town, with its beaten down obelisks, its overthrown steeples and palaces, turned upside down all in a lump, in fact a genuine chaos. The sun threw long oblique rays of a light without warmth, as if heat absorbing substances were placed between it and that gloomy country. The sea seemed to be frozen to the remotest limits of you. How shall we get through? exclaimed the doctor. I have not the least idea, replied Shandon. But we will get through, even if we are obliged, to employ powder to blow up these mountains, for I certainly won't let that ice shut me up till next spring. Nevertheless, such was the fate of the fox, and most is these same porters. Never mind, continued the doctor. We shall get through with a little philosophy. Believe me, that is worth all the engines in the world. You must acknowledge, replied Shandon, that the year does not begin under very favorable auspices. That is incontestable, and I noticed that Baffin's sea has a tendency to return to the same state in which it was before 1817. Then you think, doctor, that the present state of things has not always existed. Yes, from time to time there are vast breakings up which scientific men can scarcely explain. Thus, up to 1817 this sea was constantly obstructed, when suddenly an immense cataclysm took place, which drove back these icebergs into the ocean, the great part of which were stranded on Newfoundland bank. From that time Baffin's bay has been almost free, and has become the hound of numerous whalers. Then since that epoch voyages to the north have been easier, incomparably so, but for the last few years it has been observed that the bay has a tendency to be closed up again, and according to investigations made by navigators, it may probably be so for a long time, a still greater reason for us to go on as far as possible. Just now we look like people who get into unknown galleries, the doors of which are always shut behind them. Do you advise me to back out? asks Chandan, endeavoring to read the answer in the Doctor's eyes. I have never known how to take a step backward, and should we never return, I say go ahead. However I should like to make known to you that if we do anything imprudent, we know very well what we are exposed to. Well, Gary, what do you think about it? asks Chandan as a sailor. I, Commander, I should go on. I am of the same opinion as Mr. Klobany, but you do as you please, Command, I will obey. They don't all speak like you, Gary, replied Chandan. They aren't all in an obedient humor. Suppose they were to refuse to execute my orders. Commander, replied Gary coldly, I have given you my advice, because you asked me for it, but you are not obliged to act upon it. Chandan did not reply. He attentively examined the horizon and descended with his two companions on to the ice field. End of Chapter 10 Chapter 11 of the English at the North Pole This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Part 1 of the Adventures of Captain Hatteras The English at the North Pole by Jules Verne Chapter 11 The Devil's Thumb During the Commander's absence, the men had gone through diverse works in order to make the ship fit to avoid the pressure of the ice fields. Penn, Clifton, Gripper, Bolton, and Simpson were occupied in this laborious work. The Stoker and the two engineers were even obliged to come to the aid of their comrades. For from the instant they were not wanted at the engine, they again became sailors, and as such they could be employed in all kinds of work on board. But this was not accomplished without a great deal of grumbling. I'll tell you what, said Penn. I've had enough of it, and if in three days the breaking up isn't come, I'll swear to God that I'll chuck up. You'll chuck up, replied Gripper. You ought to do better to help us to back out. Do you think we are in the humor to winter here till next year? To tell the truth, it would be a dreary winter, said Blower, for the ship is exposed from every quarter. And who knows, I did Brunton. If even next spring we should find the sea freer than it is now. We aren't talking about next spring, said Penn. Today's Thursday, if next Sunday morning the road ain't clear, we'll back out south. That's the ticket, cried Clifton. Are you all agreed, said Penn? Yes, answered all his comrades. That's right enough, answered Warren, for if we are obliged to work like this, hauling the ship by the strength of our arms, my advice is to backwater. We'll see about that on Sunday, answered Wollstone. As soon as I get the order, said Brunton, I'll soon get my steam up. Or we'd manage to get it up ourselves, said Clifton. If any of the officers, said Penn, wants to have the pleasure of wintering here, we'll let him. He can build himself a snow hut like the Eskimo. Nothing of his kind, Penn, replied Brunton. We won't leave anybody. You understand that, you others. Besides, I don't think it would be difficult to persuade the commander. He already seems very uncertain, and if we work quietly to propose it. I don't know that, said Plower. Richard Shendon is a hard, headstrong man, and we should have to sound him carefully. When I think, replied Bolton, with a covetous sigh, that in a month we might be back in Liverpool, we could soon clear the Southern Ice Line. The pass in Davis Straits will be open in the beginning of June, and we shall only have to let ourselves drift into the Atlantic. Besides, said the prudent Clifton, if we bring back the commander with us, acting under his responsibility, our pay and bounty money will be sure. Whilst, if we return alone, it won't be so certain. That certain, said Plower, that devil of a Clifton speaks like a book. Let us try to have nothing to explain to the admiralty. It's much safer to leave no one behind us. But if the officers refuse to follow us, replied Penn, who wished to push his comrades to an extremity. To such a question, they were puzzled to reply. We shall see about it when the time comes, replied Bolton. Besides, it would be enough to win Richard Shandon over to our side. We shall have no difficulty about that. Anyhow, said Penn, swearing, there's something I'll leave here if I get an arm eaten in the attempt. Ah, you mean the dog, said Plower. Yes, the dog, and before long I'll settle his hash. The morsel, replied Clifton, coming back to his favorite scene, that the dog is the cause of all our misfortunes. He's cast an evil spell over us, said Plower. It's through him we're in an iceberg, said Gripper. He is the cause that we've had more eyes against us than has ever been seen at this time of year, said Bolton. He is the cause of my bad eyes, said Brunton. He is cut off the gin and brandy, added Penn. He is the cause of everything, said the assembly, getting excited. And he is captain into the bargain, cried Clifton. Well, captain of ill luck, said Penn, whose unreasonable fury grew stronger at every word. You wanted to come here, and here you'll stay. But how are we to nap him, said Plower? We have a good opportunity, replied Clifton. The commander isn't on deck. The lieutenant is asleep in his cabin, and the folks second up to stop Johnson seeing us. But where's that dog, cried Penn. He's asleep near the call hall, replied Clifton. And if anybody wants, I'll take charge of him, answered Penn furiously. Look out, Penn. He's got teeth that could snap an iron bar into. If he moves, I'll cut him open, cried Penn, taking his knife in one hand. He bounced in between decks, followed by Warren, who wanted to help him in his undertaking. They quickly came back, carrying the animal in their arms, strongly muzzled, with his paws boned tightly together. They had taken him by surprise whilst he slept, so that the unfortunate dog could not escape them. Hurrah for Penn, cried Blower. What do you mean to do with him now you've got him? asked Clifton. Why drown him? And if ever he gets over it, replied Penn, with a fearful smile of satisfaction. About two hundred steps from the vessel, there was a seal hole, a kind of circular crevice, cut out by the teeth of that amphibious animal, hollowed out from underneath, and through which, the seal comes up to breathe onto the surface of the eyes. To keep this aperture from closing up, he has to be very careful, because the formation of his jaws would not enable him to bore through the hole again from the outside, and in a moment of danger, he would fall upright to his enemies. Penn and Warren directed their steps towards this crevice, and there, in spite of the dog's energetic efforts, he was unmercifully precipitated into the sea. An enormous lump of ice was then placed over the opening, thus closing all possible issue to the poor animal, walled up in a watery prison. Good luck to you, Captain, cried the brutal sailor. Shortly afterwards, Penn and Warren returned on deck. Johnson had seen nothing of this performance. The fog thickened round the ship, and snow began to fall with violence. An hour later Richard Shandon, the doctor and Gary, rejoined the forward. Shandon had noticed a pass in a northeastern direction, of which he was resolved to take advantage, and gave his orders in consequence. The crew obeyed with a certain activity, not without hinting to Shandon that it was impossible to go farther on, and that they only gave him three more days' obedience. During a part of the night, and the following day, the working of the saws and the hauling were actively kept up, the forward gained about two miles further north. On the eighteenths, she was inside of land, and at five or six cable lengths, from a peculiar peak, called from its strange shape the devil's sum. It was there that the Prince Albert in 1851, and the advance with Cain in 1853, were kept prisoners by the ice for several weeks. The old form of the devil's sum, the dreary deserts in its vicinity, the vast circles of icebergs, some of them more than 300 feet high, the cracking of the ice, reproduced by the echo in so sinister a manner, rendered the position of the forward horribly dreary. Shandon understood the necessity of getting out of it and going further ahead. Twenty-four hours later, according to his estimation, he had been able to clear the fatal coast for about two miles, but this was not enough. Shandon, overwhelmed with fear and the false situation in which he was placed, lost both courage and energy in order to obey his instructions and get further north, he had thrown his vessel into an excessively perilous situation. The men were worn out by the hauling. It required more than three hours to hollow out a channel twenty feet long through ice that was usually from four to five feet thick. The health of the crew threatened to break down. Shandon was astonished at the silence of his men and their unaccustomed obedience, but he feared that it was the calm before the storm. Who can judge, then, of his painful disappointment, surprise and despair when he perceived that in consequence of an insensible movement of the ice field the forward head, during the night from the eighteenth to the nineteenth, lost all the advantage she had gained with so much toil. On the Saturday morning, there were once more opposite the ever-threatening devil's sum and in a still more critical position. The icebergs became more numerous and drifted by in the fog like phantoms. Shandon was in a state of complete demoralization, for fright had taken possession of the downedless men and his crew. Shandon had heard the dog's disappearance spoken about, but dared not punish those who were guilty of it. He feared that a rebellion might be the consequence. The weather was fearful during the whole day. The snow rose up in sick whirlpools, wrapping up the forward in an impenetrable cloak. Sometimes, and there's the action of the storm, the fog was torn asunder and displayed towards land, raised up like a specter, the devil's sum. The forward was anchored to an immense block of ice. It was all that could be done. There was nothing more to attend. The obscurity became denser and the men at the helm could not see James Wall, who was on duty in the bow. Shandon withdrew to his cabin, a prey to unremitting uneasiness. The doctor was putting his voyage notes in order. One half of the crew remained on deck. The other half stayed in the common cabin. At one moment, when the storm increased in fury, the devil's sum seemed to rise up out of all proportion in the midst of the fog. Good God! cried Simpson, drawing back with fright. What's the devil's that? said Voker, and exclamations rose up in every direction. It is going to smash us. We are lost. Mr. Wall, Mr. Wall. It's all our with us. Commander, commander. These cries were simultaneously uttered by the men of watch. Wall fled to the quarter-deck and Shandon, followed by the doctor, rushed on deck to look. In the midst of the fog, the devil's sum seemed to have suddenly neared the break and seemed to have grown in the most fantastic manner. At its summit rose up a second cone, turned upside down and spindled on its point. It's enormous mass threatened to crush the ship as it was oscillating and ready to fall. It was the most fearful sight. Everyone instinctively drew back and several sailors leaping onto the ice, abandoned the ship. Let no one move, cried the commander in a severe voice. Everyone to his post. How now, my friends? There's nothing to be frightened at, said the doctor. There's no danger. Look, commander, look ahead, Mr. Wall. It's only an effect of the marriage, nothing else. You are quite right, Mr. Cloudbony, and Sir Johnson. Those fools were frightened at a shadow. After the doctor had spoken, most of the sailors drew near and their fear changed admiration, a devunderful phenomenon which shortly disappeared from sight. They called that a marriage, said Clifton. Well, you may believe me, that the devil has something to do with it. That's certain, replied Gripper. But when the fog cleared away, it disclosed to the eyes of the commander an immense free and unexpected passage. It seemed to run away from the coast, and he therefore determined to seize such a favorable hazard. Men were placed on each side of the creek. Horses were lowered down to them, and they began to tow the vessel in the northerly direction. During long hours, this work was actively executed in silence. Shandon caused the steam to be caught up in order to take advantage of the fortunate discovery of this channel. This, said he to Johnson, is the most providential hazard, and if we can only get a few miles ahead, we shall probably get to the end of our misfortunes. Brunton stir up the fires, and as soon as there's enough pressure, let me know. In the meantime, our men will pluck up their carriage, that will be so much gained. They're in a hurry to run away from the devil's thumb. We'll take advantage of their good inclinations. All at once the progress of the forward was abruptly arrested. What's up, cried Shandon. I say, well, how have we broken our tow ropes? Not at all, commander, answered Vole, looking over the side. Hello! Here are the men, coming back again. They are climbing the ship's side as if the devil was at their heels. What's the doice can it be? cried Shandon, rushing forward. On board, on board, cried the terrified sailors. Shandon looked in the northerly direction, and shuddered, in spite of himself. A strange atmosphere, a strange animal with appalling movements, whose foaming tongue emerged from enormous jaws, was leaping about at a cable's length from the ship. In appearance he seemed to be about 20 feet high, with hair like bristles. He was following up the sailors, whilst his formidable tail, 10 feet long, was sweeping the snow, and throwing it up in sick whirlwinds. The sight of such a monster riveted the most daring to the spot. It's a bear, said one. It's a gwarden beast. It's the lion of the apocalypse. Shandon ran to his cabin for a gun he always kept loaded. The doctor armed himself, and held himself in readiness to fire upon an animal, which, by its dimensions, recalled the antediluvian quadrupeds. He neared the ship in immense sleeps. Shandon and the doctor fired at the same time, when, suddenly, the report of their firearms, shaking the atmospheric stratum, produced an unexpected effect. The doctor looked intently, and burst out, laughing. It's the refraction, he exclaimed. Only the refraction repeated Shandon. But a fearful exclamation from the crew interrupted them. The dog, said Clifton. The dog, Captain, repeated all his comrades. Himself cried Ben. Always that cursed brute. They were not mistaken. It was the dog. Having got loose from his shackles, he had regained the surface by another crevice. At that instant the refraction, through a phenomenon common to these latitudes, caused him to appear under formidable dimensions, which the shaking of the air had dispersed. But the vexatious effect was nonetheless produced upon the minds of the sailors, who were very little disposed to admit an explanation of the fact by purely physical reasons. The adventure of the devil's thumb, the reappearance of the dog under such fantastic circumstances, gave the finishing touch to their mental faculties, and murmurs broke out in all sides. End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Of the English at the North Pole This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Part 1 Of the Adventures of Captain Hatteras The English at the North Pole by Jules Verne Chapter 12 Captain Hatteras Chapter 13 The forward under steam rapidly made its way between the ice mountains and the icebergs. Johnson was at the wheel. Shandon, with his snow spectacles, was examining the horizon, but his joy was of short duration, for he soon discovered that the passage ended in a circus of mountains. However, he preferred going on, in spite of the difficulty to going back. The dog followed the prig at a long distance, running along the plane, but if he lagged too far behind, a singular whistle could be distinguished, which he immediately obeyed. The first time this whistle was heard, the sailors looked round about them. They were alone on deck altogether, and no stranger was to be seen, and yet the whistle was again heard from time to time. Clifton was the first alarmed. Do you hear, said he, just look how that animal answers when he hears the whistle. I can scarcely believe my eyes, answered Gripper. It's all over, cried Penn. I don't go any further. Penn's right, replied Brunton. It's tempting God. Tempting the devil, replied Clifton. I'd sooner lose my bounty money than go a step further. We shall never get back, said Bolton in despair. The crew had arrived at the highest pitch of insubordination. Not a step further, cried Bolton. Are you all of the same mind? Hey, hey! answered all the sailors. Come on, then, said Bolton. Let's go and find the commander. I'll undertake the talking. The sailors in a tight group swayed away toward the poop. The forward at the time was penetrating into a vast circus, which measured perhaps 800 feet in diameter, and with the exception of one entrance, that by which the vessel had come, was entirely closed up. Shendon said that he had just imprisoned himself. But what was he to do? How were they to retrace their steps? He felt his responsibility, and his hand grasped the telescope. The doctor with folded arms kept silent. He was contemplating the walls of ice, the medium altitude of which was over 300 feet. A foggy dome remained suspended above the gulf. It was at this instant that Bolton addressed his speech to the commander. Commander, said he in a trembling voice, we can't go any further. What do you say, replied Shendon, whose consciousness of disregarded authority made the blood rise to the roots of his hair. Commander, replied Bolton, we say that we have done enough for that invisible captain, and we are decided to go no further ahead. You are decided, cried Shendon. You talk thus Bolton, take care. Your threats are all the same to us, brutally replied Penn. We won't go an inch further. Shendon advanced towards the mutineers. At the same time, the maith came up and said in a whisper, Commander, if you wish to get out of here, we haven't a minute to lose. There's an iceberg drifting up the path, and it is very likely to court up all issue and keep us prisoners. Shendon examined the situation. You will give an account of your conduct later on, you fellows, said he. Now he is aboard. The sailors rushed to the post, and the forward quickly veered round. The fires were stuffed with coals. The great question was to outrun the floating mountain. It was a struggle between the brig and the iceberg. The former, in order to get through, was running south. The latter was drifting north, ready to close up every passage. Steam up, steam up, cried Shendon. Do you hear Brunton? The forward glided like a bird amidst the struggling icebergs, which her prow sent to the right about. The brig's hull shivered under the action of the screw, and the manometer indicated a prodigious tension of steam, for it whistled with a deafening noise. Loads evolved, cried Shendon, and the engineer obeyed. At the risk of blowing up the ship, but his despairing efforts were in vain. The iceberg, caught up by an undercurrent, rapidly approached the pass. The brig was still about three cables length from it, when the mountain, entering like a cornerstone into the open space, strongly adhered to its neighbors, and closed up all issue. We are lost, cried Shendon, who could not retain the imprudent words. Lost, repeated the crew. Let some escape, who can, said some. Lower the shoreboats, said others. To the steward's room cried Pen and several of his band, and if we are to be drowned, let's drown ourselves in gin. Disorder among the men was at its height. Shendon felt himself overcome. When he wished to command, he stammered and hesitated. His thought was unable to make way through his words. The doctor was walking about in agitation. Johnson stoically folded his arms and said nothing. All at once a strong, imperious, and energetic voice was heard to pronounce these words. Every man to his post and talk about. Johnson started, and hardly knowing what he did, turned the wheel rapidly. He was just in time, for the brig, launched at full speed, was about to crush herself against her prison walls. But while Johnson was instinctively obeying Shendon, Globony, the crew, and all down to the stalker-worn, who had abandoned his fires, even Black Strong, who had left his cooking, were all mustered on deck. And so emerged from that cabin the only man who was in possession of the key, and that man was Gary, the sailor. Sir cried Shendon becoming pale. Gary, you, by what right do you command here? Dick, called out Gary, reproducing that whistle, which had so much surprised the crew. The dog, at the sound of his right name, jumped with one bound to the poop, and lay quietly down at his master's feet. The crew did not say a word. The key, which the captain of the forward alone possessed, the dog sent by him, and who came thus to verify his identity, that commanding accent, which it was impossible to mistake, all this acted strongly on the minds of the sailors, and was sufficient to establish Gary's authority. Besides, Gary was no longer recognizable. He had cut off the long whiskers which had covered his face, which made it look more energetic and imperious than ever. Dressed in the clothes of his rank, which had been deposited in the cabin, he appeared in the insignia of Commander. Then immediately, with that mobility which characterized them, the crew of the forward cried out, three cheers for the captain. Shandon said the letter to his second, Master the crew, I am going to inspect it. Shandon obeyed and gave orders with an altered voice. The captain advanced to meet his officers and men, saying something suitable to each, and treating each according to his past conduct. When he had finished the inspection, he returned on to the poop, and with a calm voice pronounced the following words. Officers and sailors, like you, I am English, and my motto is that of Nelson. England expects that every man will do his duty. As an Englishman I am resolved, we are resolved, that no bolder man shall go further than we have been. As an Englishman I will not allow, we will not allow. Other people, to have the glory of pushing further north themselves. If ever human food can step upon the land of the North Pole, it shall be the food of an Englishman. Here is our country's flag. I have equipped this vessel and consecrated my fortune to this enterprise, and if necessary, I shall consecrate to it my life and yours. For I am determined that these colors shall float at the North Pole. Take courage. From this day, for every degree we can gain, northwards, the sum of a thousand pounds will be awarded to you. There are ninety, for we are now in the seventy second. Count them. Besides, my name is enough. It means energy and patriotism. I am Captain Hatteras. Captain Hatteras exclaimed Chandan, and that name, well known to English sailors, was whispered amongst the crew. Now continued Hatteras, anchor the break to the ice, put out the fires, and each of you return to your usual work. Chandan, I wish to hold a council with you relative to affairs on board. Join me with the doctor, Wall and the boatsman in my cabin. Johnson dispersed the men. Hatteras, calm and haughty, quietly left the poop. In the meantime, Chandan was anchoring the break. Who then was this Hatteras, and for what reason did his name make such a profound impression upon the crew? John Hatteras was the only son of a London brewer, who died in 1852, worth six millions of money. Still young, he embraced the maritime career, in spite of this splendid fortune awaiting him. Not that he felt any vocation for commerce, but the instinct of geographical discoveries was dear to him. He had always dreamt of placing his foot where no mortal food had yet soiled the ground. At the age of twenty, he was already in possession of the vigorous constitution of a thin and sanguine man, an energetic face, with lines geometrically traced, a high and perpendicular forehead, cold but handsome eyes, thin lips, which set off a mouth from which words rarely issued, a middle stature, solidly jointed limbs, put in motion by iron muscles. The whole forming a man endured with a temperament fit for anything. When you saw him, you felt he was daring. When you heard him, you knew he was coldly determined. His was a character that never drew back, ready to stake the lives as others, as well as his own. It was well to think twice before following him in his expeditions. John Hatteras was proud of being an Englishman. A Frenchman once said to him, with what he thought was refined politeness and amiability, if I were not a Frenchman, I should like to be an Englishman. And if I were not an Englishman, answered Hatteras, I should like to be an Englishman. That answer revealed the character of the man. It was a great grief to him, that Englishmen had not the monopoly of geographical discoveries, and were, in fact, rather behind other nations in that field. Christopher Columbus, the discoverer of America, was a Genoese. Vasco de Gama, a Portuguese, discovered India. Another Portuguese, Fernando de Andrada, China. And a third, Magellan, the Terral Del Fuego. Canada was discovered by Jacques Cartier, a Frenchman. Labrador, Brazil, the Cape of Good Hope, the Azores, Madeira, Newfoundland, Guinea, Congo, Mexico, Cape Blanco, Greenland, Iceland, the South Seas, California, Japan, Cambodia, Peru, Kamchatka, the Philippines, Spitzbergen, Cape Horn, Bering Strait, Stasmania, New Zealand, New Brittany, New Holland, Louisiana, Jean Mayen Island, were discovered by Icelanders, Scandinavians, French, Russians, Portuguese, Danes, Spaniards, Genoese and Dutch, but not one by an Englishman. Captain Hatteras could not reconcile himself to the fact that Englishmen were excluded from the glorious list of navigators who made the great discoveries of the 15th and 16th centuries. Hatteras consolved himself a little when he turned to more modern times. Then Englishmen had the best of it with sturt, birk, wheels, king and gray in Australia, with palaces in America, with Keryl Graham, Waddington and Cummingham in India, with Burton, Spiek, Grant and Livingstone in Africa. But for a man like Hatteras, this was not enough. From his point of view, these bold travelers were improvers rather than inventors, and he was determined to do something better, and he would have invented a country if he could, only to have the honor of discovering it. Now he had noticed that although Englishmen did not form a majority amongst ancient discoverers, and that he had to go back to Cook in 1774 to obtain new Caledonia and the Sandwich Isles, where the unfortunate captain perished in 1778, yet there existed nevertheless a corner of the globe where they seemed to have united all their efforts. This corner was precisely the boreal lands and seas of North America. The list of polar discoveries may be thus written. Nova Zemna, discovered by Willoughby, in 1553, Way gets island by borough in 1556, the west coast of Greenland by Davis in 1585, Davis straights by Davis in 1587, Spitzburgen by Willoughby in 1596, Hudson's Bay by Hudson in 1610, Baffins Bay by Baffin in 1616. In more modern times, Hearn, McKenzie, John Ross, Perry, Franklin, Richardson, Beachy, James Ross, Back D's, Simpson, Rhee, Englefield, Belcher, Austin, Calet, Moore, McClure, Kennedy and McClintock have continually searched those unknown lands. The limits of the northern coast of America had been fixed, and the northwest passage almost discovered, but this was not enough. There was something better still to be done, and John Hatteras had twice attempted it by equipping two ships at his own expense. He wanted to reach the north pole and thus crown the series of English discoveries by one of the most illustrious attempts. To attain the pole was the aim of his life. After a few successful cruises in the southern seas, Hatteras endeavored for the first time in 1846 to go north by Baffins Sea, but he could not get beyond the 74th degree of latitude. He was then commanding the Sloup Halifax. His crew suffered atrocious torments, and John Hatteras pushed his adventurous thrashness so far that afterwards sailors were little tempted to recommend similar expeditions under such a chief. However, in 1850 Hatteras succeeded in enrolling on the Schooner-Farwell about 20 determined men, tempted principally by the high price offered for their audacity. It was upon that occasion that Dr. Claubony entered into correspondence with John Hatteras, whom he did not know, requesting to join the expedition, but happily for the doctor the post was already filled up. The Farwell, following into track taken in 1817 by the Neptune from Aberdeen, got up to the north of Spitsbergen as far as the 76th degree of latitude. There the expedition was compelled to winter, but the sufferings of the crew from the intense cold were so great that not a single man saw England again, with the exception of Hatteras himself, who was brought back to his own country by a Danish whaler after a walk of more than 200 miles across the ice. The sensation produced by the return of this one man was immense. Who in future would dare to follow Hatteras in his mad attempts? However, he did not despair of beginning again. His father, the brewer, died, and he became possessor of a Nebebs fortune. Soon after a geographical fact bitterly stirred up John Hatteras. A brig, the advance, manned by seventeen men, equipped by the merchant named Grinnell, under the command of Dr. Cain, and sent in search of Sir John Franklin, advanced in 1853 through Bethan Sea and Smith Strait, beyond the 82nd degree of boreal latitude, much nearer the pole than any of his predecessors. Now this whistle was American, Grinnell was American, and Cain was American. The Englishman's disdain for the Yankee will be easily understood. In the heart of Hatteras it changed to hatred. He was resolved to outdo his audacious competitor and reach the pole itself. For two years he had been living in Cognito in Liverpool, passing himself off as a sailor. He recognized in Richard Shandon the man he wanted. He sent him an offer by an anonymous letter, and one to Dr. Clobony at the same time. The forward was built, armed, and equipped. Hatteras took great care to conceal his name, for had it been known, he would not have found a single man to accompany him. He was determined not to take the command of the brig, except in a moment of danger, and when his crew had gone too far to draw back. He had in reserve, as we have seen, such offers of money to make to the men, that not one of them would refuse to follow him to the other end of the world. And in fact it was right to the other end of the world that he meant to go. Circumstances had become critical, and John Hatteras had made himself known. His dog, the faceful dick, the companion of his voyages, was the first to recognize him. Luckily for the brave and unfortunately for the timid, it was well and duly established that John Hatteras was the captain of the forward. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The appearance of this bold personage was appreciated in different ways by the crew. Part of them completely rallied around him, either from love of money or daring. Others submitted because they could not help themselves, reserving their right to protest later on. Besides, resistance to such a man seemed, for the present, difficult. Each man went back to his post. The 20th of May fell on a Sunday, and was consequently a day of rest for the crew. A council was held by the captain, composed of the officers, Shandon, Wall, Johnson and the Doctor. Gentlemen said the captain in that voice at the same time soft and imperious, which characterized him. You are aware that I intend to go as far as the pole. I wish to know your opinion about this enterprise. Shandon, what do you think about it? It is not for me to think, captain, coldly replied Shandon. I have only to obey. Hatteras was not surprised at the answer. Richard Shandon continued he, not less coldly. I beg you will say what you think about our chance of success. Very well, captain, answered Shandon. Facts are there and answer for me. Attempts of the same kind up till now have always failed. I hope we shall be more fortunate. We shall be. What do you think, gentlemen? As far as I am concerned, replied the Doctor, I consider your plan practicable, as it is certain that someday navigators will attain the boreal pole. I don't see why the owner should not fall to our lot. There are many things in our favor, answered Hatteras. Our measures are taken in consequence, and we shall profit by the experience of those who have gone before us. And there upon Shandon, accept my thanks for the care you have taken, in fitting out the ship, there are a few evil disposed fellows amongst the crew that I shall have to bring to reason, but on the whole I have only praises to give you. Shandon bowed coldly. His position on the forward, which he thought to command, was a false one. Hatteras understood this, and did not insist further. As to you, gentlemen, he continued, turning to Wall and Johnson. I could not have secured officers more distinguished for courage and experience. Well, Captain, I am your man, answered Johnson, and although your enterprise seems to me rather daring, you may rely upon me till the end. And on me, too, said James Wall. As to you, Doctor, I know what you are worth. You know more than I do, then, quickly replied the Doctor. Now, gentlemen, continued Hatteras, it is well you should learn upon what undeniable facts might pretension to arrive at the pole is founded. In 1870 the Neptune got up to the north of Spitzbergen, as far as the 82nd degree. In 1826 the celebrated Perry, after his third voyage to the polar seas, started also from Spitzbergen point, and by the aid of sledge boats went 150 miles northward. In 1852 Captain Engelfield penetrated into Smith's inlet, as far as 78 degrees 35 minutes latitude. All these vessels were English, and Englishmen, our countrymen commanded them. Here Hatteras paused. I ought to add he continued with a constrained look, and as though the wards were unable to leave his lips. I must add that in 1854 Cain, the American, commanding the brig advance went still higher, and that his Leutnant Morton, going across the ice fields, hoisted the United States standard on the other side of the 82nd degree. This said I shall not return to the subject. Now, what remains to be known is this, that the captains of the Neptune, the Enterprise, the Isabel and the Advance, are certain that, proceeding from the highest latitudes, there existed a polar basin entirely free from ice. Free from ice exclaimed Shandon, interrupting the captain. That is impossible. You will notice Shandon, quietly replied Hatteras, whose eye is shown for an instant. But I quote names and facts as a proof. I may even add that during Captain Perry's station on the border of Wellington Channel, in 1851, his Leutnant, Stuart, also found himself in the presence of open sea, and this peculiarity was confirmed during Sir Edward Beecher's wintering in 1853, in Northumberland Bay, in 76 degrees 52 minutes north latitude, and 99 degrees 20 minutes longitude. The reports are incontestable, and it would be most unjust not to admit them. However, Captain, continued Shandon, those reports are so contradictory. You are mistaken Shandon, cried Dr. Cloboney. These reports do not contradict any scientific assertion the captain will allow me to tell you. Go on, Doctor, answered Hatteras. Well, listen Shandon. It evidently follows from geographical facts, and from the study of is a term lines, that the coldest point of the globe is not at the pole itself, like the magnetic point. It deviates several degrees from the pole. The calculations of Brewster, Burgham, and several other natural philosophers show us that in our hemisphere there are two cold poles. One is situated in Asia at 79 degrees 30 minutes north latitude, and by 120 degrees east longitude, and the other in America, and 78 north latitude, and 97 degrees west longitude. It is with the letters that we have to do, and you see Shandon, we have met with it at more than 12 degrees below the pole. Well, why should not the polar sea be as equally disengaged from ice, as the 66 better lill is in summer, that is to say, the south of Bethans Bay? That's what I call well pleaded, replied Johnson. Mr. Cloboney speaks upon these matters like a professional man. It appears very probable, chimed in James Wall. All guesswork, answered Shandon obstinately. Well Shandon said, let us take into consideration either case. Either the sea is free from ice, or it is not so, and neither of these suppositions can hinder us from attaining the pole. If the sea is free, the forward will take us there without trouble. If it is frozen, we will attempt the adventure upon our sledges. Thus you will allow is not impracticable. When once our brig has attained the 83rd degree, we shall only have 600 miles to traverse before reaching the pole. And what are 600 miles? quickly answered the doctor. When it is known that the Cossack, Alexis Markov, went over the ice sea, along the northern coast of the Russian Empire, in sledges drawn by dogs, for the space of 800 miles in 24 days. Do you hear that, Shandon, said Heteris? Can't Englishmen do as much as a Cossack? Of course they can, cried the impetuous doctor. Of course, added the boatsman. Well Shandon said the captain. I can only repeat what I had said before, captain, said Shandon. I will obey. Very good, and now continued Heteris. Let us consider our present situation. We are caught by the ice, and it seems to me impossible, for this year at least, to get into Smith Strait. Well, here, then, this is what I propose. Heteris laid open upon the table one of the excellent maps published in 1859 by the Order of the Admiralty. Be kind enough to follow me. If Smith Strait is closed up from us, Lancaster Strait, on the west coast of Baffins Sea is not. I think we ought to ascend that Strait, as far as Barrow Strait, and from there sail to Beachy Island. The same trek has been gone over a hundred times by sailing vessels. Consequently, with a screw, we can do it easily. Once at Beachy Island, we will go north, as far as possible, by Wellington Channel, up to the outlet of the creek, which joins Wellington's and Queen's channels, at the very point where the open sea was perceived. It is now only the 20th of May. In a month, if circumstances favour us, we shall have attained that point, and from there we'll drive forward towards the pole. What do you think about it, gentlemen? It is evidently the only trek to fellow, replied Johnson. Very well. We will take it from tomorrow. I shall let them rest today, as it is Sunday. Shandon, you will take care that religious service be attended to. It has a beneficial effect on the minds of men, and a sailor above all needs to place confidence in the Almighty. It shall be attended to, Captain, answered Shandon, who went out with the lieutenant and the boyson. Doctor, said Hathras, pointing towards Shandon, there is a man whose pride is wounded. I can no longer rely upon him. Early the following day the captain caused the pierock to be lowered in order to reconnoiter the icebergs in the vicinity, the breath of which did not exceed two hundred yards. He remarked that through a slow pressure of the ice the basin threatened to become narrower. It became urgent, therefore, to make an aperture to prevent the ship being crushed in a vice of the mountains. By the means employed by John Hathras it is easy to observe that he was an energetic man. He first had steps cut out in the walls of ice, and by their means climbed to the summit of an iceberg. From that point he saw that it was easy for him to cut out a road towards the south-west. By his orders a blasting furnace was hallowed nearly in the heart of the mountain. This work, rapidly put into execution, was terminated by noon on Monday. Hathras could not rely on his eight or ten pound blasting cylinders, which would have had no effect on such masses as those. They were only sufficient to shatter ice fields. He therefore had a thousand pounds of powder placed in the blasting furnace, of which the diffusive direction was carefully calculated. This mine was provided with a long wick, bound in Guterpercha, the end of which was outside. The gallery conducting to the mine was filled up with snow and lumps of ice, which the cold of the following night made as hard as granite. The temperature, under the influence of an easterly wind, came down to twelve degrees. At seven next morning the forward was held under steam, ready to profit by the smallest issue. Johnson was charged with setting fire to the wick, which according to calculation would burn for half an hour before setting fire to the mine. Johnson had, therefore, plenty of time to regain the brig. Ten minutes after having executed Hathras's order he was again at his post. The crew remained on deck, for the weather was dry and bright. It had left off snowing. Hathras was on the poop, chronometer in hand, counting the minutes. Shandon and the doctor were with him. At eight thirty-five a dull explosion was heard, much less loud than anyone would have supposed. The outline of the mountains was changed, all at once, as if by an earthquake. Thick white smoke rose up to a considerable height in the sky, leaving long crevices in the iceberg, the top part of which fell in pieces all round the forward. But the path was not yet free. Large blocks of ice remained suspended above the path on an adjacent mountains, and there was every reason to fear that they would fall and close up the passage. Hathras took in the situation at one glance. Walston cried he. The gunsmith hastened up. Yes, Captain, cried he. Load the gun in the bow with a triple charge, said Hathras. And what is at heart as possible? Are we going to attack the mountain with cannonballs? asked the doctor. No, answered Hathras. That would be useless. No bullet, Walston, but a triple charge of powder. Look sharp. A few minutes after the gun was loaded. What does he mean to do without a bullet? muttered Shandon between his teeth. We shall soon see, answered the doctor. Ready, Captain, called out Walston. All right, replied Hathras. Brunton he called out to the engineer. A few turns ahead. Brunton opened the sliders, and the screw being put in movement, the forward near the mined mountain. Aim at the pass, cried the captain to the gunsmith. The latter obeyed, and when the brig was only half a cable's length from it, Hathras called out, fire. A formidable report followed his order, and the blocks shaken by the atmospheric commotion were suddenly precipitated into the sea. The disturbance amongst the strata of the air had been sufficient to accomplish this. All steam on, Brunton, straight for the pass, Johnson. The latter was at the helm. The brig, driven along by her screw, which turned in the foaming waves, dashed into the middle of the open pass. It was time, for scarcely had the forward cleared the opening, than her prison closed up again behind her. It was a thrilling moment, and on board there was only one stout and undisturbed heart, that of the captain. The crew, astonished at the manure, cried out, Harrah for the captain. Part 1 of The Adventures of Captain Hathras The English at the North Pole, by Jules Verne On Wednesday, the 23rd of May, the forward had again taken up her adventurous navigation, cleverly tacking amongst the packs and icebergs. Thanks to steam, that obedient force, which so many of our polar sea navigators have had to do without, she appeared to be playing in the midst of the moving rocks. She seemed to recognize the hand of an experienced master, and like a horse under an able rider, she obeyed the thought of her captain. The temperature rose. At six o'clock in the morning, the thermometer marked 26 degrees, at six in the evening, 29 degrees, and at midnight, 25 degrees. The wind was lightly blowing from the southeast. On Thursday, toward three in the morning, the forward was in sight of Possession Bay, on the coast of America. At the entrance to Lancaster Strait, shortly after, the crew caught a glimpse of Bernie Cape. A few Eskimo pulled off towards the vessel, but Harrah's did not take trouble to wait for them. The Bay and Martin peaks, which overlook Cape Liverpool, were sighted to the left, and soon disappeared in the evening mists, which also prevented any observation being taken from Cape Hay. This Cape is so low that it gets confounded with the ice on the coast, a circumstance which often renders the hydrographic determination of the polar seas extremely difficult. Puffins, ducks, and white seagulls showed up in very great numbers. The forward was then in latitude 74 degrees one minute, and in longitude 77 degrees 15 minutes. The snowy hoods of the two mountains, Catherine and Elizabeth, rose up above the clouds. On Friday, at six o'clock, Cape Warrander was passed on the right side of the Strait, and on the left Admiralty Inlet, a bay that has been little explored by navigators, who are generally in a hurry to sail away west. The sea became rather rough, and the waves often swept to the deck of the brig, throwing up pieces of ice. The land on the north coast, with its high table lands almost level, and which reverberated the sun's rays, offered a very curious appearance. Hatteras wanted to run along the north coast, in order to reach Beachy Island, and the entrance to Wellington Channel sooner, but continual icebergs compelled him, to his great annoyance, to follow the southern passes. That was why, on the 26th of May, the forward was abreast of Cape York, in a thick fog interspersed with snow. A very high mountain, almost perpendicular, caused it to be recognized. The weather cleared up a little, and the sun, towards noon, appeared for an instant, allowing a tolerably good observation to be taken. 74 degrees, four minutes latitude, and 84 degrees, 23 minutes longitude. The forward was then at the extremity of Lancaster Strait. Hatteras pointed out to the doctor on his map, the route already taken, and the one he meant to follow. The position of the brig at the time was very interesting. I should like to have been further north, said he, but no one can do this impossible. See, this is our exact situation. And the captain pricked his map at a short distance from Cape York. We are in the center of this four-road way, open to every wind, fenced by the outlets of Lancaster Strait, Barrow Strait, Wellington Channel, and Regent's Passage. It is a point that all navigators in these seas have been obliged to come to. Well, replied the doctor. It must have puzzled them greatly. Four crossroads with no signpost to tell them which to take. How did Perry, Ross, and Franklin manage? They did not manage at all. They were managed. They had no choice. I can assure you, sometimes Barrow Strait was closed to one of them, and the next year another found it open. Sometimes the vessel was irresistibly drawn towards Regent's Passage, so that we have ended by becoming acquainted with these inextricable seas. What does singular country said the doctor, examining the map? It is all in pieces, and they seem to have no logical connection. It seems as if the land in the vicinity of the North Pole had been cut up like this on purpose, to make access to it more difficult, whilst that in the other hemisphere quietly terminates intapered out points, like those of Cape Horn, the Cape of Good Hope, and the Indian Peninsula. Is it the greater rapidity of the equator, which has thus modified matters, whilst the land at the extremities, yet fluid from the creation, has not been able to get condensed or agglomerated together for one of a sufficiently rapid rotation? That must be the case. For everything on Earth is logical, and nothing is that Earth from law, and God often allows men to discover His laws, make use of His permission, doctor. Unfortunately, I shall not be able to take much advantage of it, said the doctor. But the wind here is something dreadful, added he, muffling himself up as well as he could. Yes, we are quite exposed to the North Wind, and it is turning us out of our road. Anyhow, it ought to drive the ice down south, and level a clear road. It ought to do so, doctor. But the wind does not always do what it ought. Look, that ice bank seems impenetrable. Never mind. We will try to reach Griffith Island, sail round Cornwallis Island, and get into Queen's Channel, without going by Wellington Channel. Nevertheless, I positively desire to touch at Beachy Island in order to renew my coal provision. What do you mean? asked the astonished doctor. I mean that, according to orders from the Admiralty, large provisions have been deposited on that island, in order to provide for future expeditions. And although Captain McClintock took some in 1959, I assure you that there will be some left for us. By the by, said the doctor, these parts have been explored for the last fifteen years, and since day when the proof of the loss of Franklin was acquired, the Admiralty has always kept five or six cruisers in these seas. If I am not mistaken, Griffith Island, which I see there on the map, almost in the middle of the crossroads, has become a general meeting place for navigators. It is so, Doctor, and Franklin's unfortunate expedition resulted in making known these distant countries to us. That is true, Captain, for since 1845 expeditions have been very numerous. It was not until 1848 that we began to be uneasy about the disappearance of the Erebus and the terror Franklin's two vessels. It was then that we saw the Admiral's old friend, Dr. Richardson, at the age of 70, go to Canada, and ascend Coppermine River as far as the Polar Sea, and James Ross, commanding the Enterprise and Investigation, set out from Opernavik in 1848, and arrived at Cape York, where we now are. Every day he threw a cut-up containing papers into the sea, for the purpose of making known his whereabouts. During the mists he caused the cannon to be fired, and had skyrockets sent up at night along with Bengal lights, and kept under sail continually. He wintered in Port Leopold from 1848 to 1849, where he took possession of a great number of white boxes, and caused brass collars, upon which was engraved the indication of the whereabouts of ships and the store depots, to be riveted on their necks. Afterwards they were dispersed in all directions. In the following spring he began to search the coasts of North Somerset on sledges, in the midst of dangers and privations, from which almost all his men fell ill or lame. He built up cairns in which he enclosed brass cylinders, with the necessary memoranda for rallying the lost expedition. While he was away, his loyton and McClure explored the northern coasts of Barrow Strait, but without result. James Ross, had under his orders two officers who, later on, were destined to become celebrities. McClure, who cleared the Northwest Passage, and McClintock, who discovered the remains of Sir John Franklin. Yes, they are now two good and brave English captains. You know the history of these seas well, Doctor, and you will benefit us by telling us about it. There is always something to be gained by hearing about such daring attempts. Well, to finish all I know about James Ross, he tried to reach Melville Island by a more westerly direction, but he nearly lost his two vessels, for he was caught by the ice and driven back into Bath and Sea. Driven back, repeated Hatteras, contracting his brows. Forced the back in spite of himself? Yes, and without having discovered anything, continued the Doctor. And ever since that year, 1850, English vessels have never seized to plow these seas, and a reward of twenty thousand pounds was offered to anyone, who might find the cruise of the Erebus and Terror. Captain Skellett and Moore had already, in 1848, attempted to get through Barrow Strait. In 1850 and 1851, Captain Austin wintered in Cornwallis Island. Captain Perry, on board the assistance and the resolute, explored Wellington Channel. John Ross, the vulnerable hero of the magnetic pole, set out again with his yacht, the Felix, in search of his friend. The brig Prince Albert went on a first cruise at the expense of Lady Franklin, and lastly two American ships, sent out by Grinnell with Captain Haven, were drifted out of Wellington Channel and thrown back into Lancaster Strait. It was during this year that McClintock, who was then Austin's lieutenant, pushed on as far as Melville Island and Cape Dundas, the extreme points attained by Perry in 1819. It was then that he found traces of Franklin's wintering on Beachy Island in 1845. Yes, answered Hatteras, three of his sailors had been buried there, three men more fortunate than the others. The doctor nodded in approval of Hatteras's remark and continued, During 1851 and 1852, the Prince Albert went on a second voyage under the French lieutenant below. He wintered at Batty Bay in Prince Regent Strait, explored the southwest of Somerset, and reconnoitered the coast as far as Cape Walker. During that time, the enterprise and the investigator returned to England and passed under the command of Collinson and McClure for the purpose of rejoining Kelet and Moore in Bering Straits. Whilst Collinson came back to winter at Hong Kong, McClure made the best of his way onward, and after being obliged to winter three times, from 1850 to 51, from 1851 to 52, and from 1852 to 53. He discovered the Northwest Passage without learning anything of Franklin's fate. During 1852 and 53, a new expedition, composed of three sailing vessels, the Resolute, the Assistance, the North Star, and two steamers, the Pionier and Intrepid, set sail under the command of Sir Edward Belcher with Captain Kelet under him. Sir Edward visited Wellington Channel, wintered in Northumberland Bay, and went over the coast, whilst Kelet, pushing on to Britport in Melville Island, explored, without success, that part of the boreal land. It was at this time that news was spread in England that two ships, abandoned in the midst of icebergs, had been described near the coast of New Scotland. Lady Franklin immediately had prepared as little screw Isabelle, and Captain Englefield, after having steamed up Bethans Bay, as far as Victoria Point on the 80s parallel, came back to Beachy Island, no more successful than his predecessors. At the beginning of 1855, Grinnell, an American, fitted up a fresh expedition, and Captain Cain tried to penetrate to the pole. But he didn't do it, cried Hatteras violently, and what he didn't do, we will, with God's help. I know, Captain, answered the doctor. And I mention it because this expedition is of necessity, connected with the search for Franklin. But it had no result. I was almost forgetting to tell you that the admiralty, considering Beachy Island as the general rendezvous of expeditions, charged Captain Englefield, who then commanded the steamer Phoenix, to transport provisions there in 1853. Englefield set out with Lieutenant Bellot, and lost the brave officer, who for the second time had devoted his services to England. We can have more precise details upon this catastrophe, as our boatsman, Johnson, was witness to the misfortune. Lieutenant Bellot was a brave Frenchman, said Hatteras, and his memory is honoured in England. By that time, continued the doctor, Belcher's fleet began to come back little by little, not all of it, for Sir Edward had been obliged to abandon the assistance in 1854, as McClure had done with the investigator in 1853. In the meantime, Dr. Rhee, in a letter dated the 29th of July, 1854, and addressed from Repulse Bay, which he had succeeded in reaching through America, sent word that the Eskimo of King William's land were in possession of different objects taken from the wrecks of the Erebus and Terror. There was then not the least doubt about the fate of the expedition. The phoenix, the north star, and Collinson's vessel then came back to England, leaving the Arctic seas completely abandoned by English ships. But if the government seemed to have lost all hope, it was not so with Lady Franklin, and with the remnants of her fortune, she fitted out the fox, commanded by McClintock, who set sail in 1857, and wintered in the quarters where you made your apparition. He reached Beachy Island on the 11th of August, 1858, wintered a second time in Bellows Strait, began his search against in February, 1859, and on the 6th of May found the document, which cleared away all doubt about the fate of the Erebus and the Terror, and returned to England at the end of the year. That is all that has happened for fifteen years in these fateful countries. And since the return of the fox, not a single vessel has returned to attempt success in the midst of these dangerous seas. Well, replied Hathras, we will attempt it.