The Siege and Conquest of the North Pole. Bryce George
north on the ice along the west coast as far as latitude 79° 45′. They then returned south as far as Cape Sabine, and recrossed the straits, arriving at the brig on 1st June. This was a remarkable journey. The equipment was as follows: – a light sledge and team of seven dogs, 80 lb. of pemmican, 16 lb. of bread, 18 lb. of lard and rope-yarn for fuel; a reindeer-skin sleeping-bag for each, a lamp and pot for cooking, sextant, pocket-compass, telescope, Sharpe’s rifle, two extra pairs of stockings and one of boots for each. About the third day Dr. Hayes suffered from snow-blindness, and this caused some delay. The dogs’ harness lines had to be frequently repaired, which could only be done ultimately by cutting strips from Godfrey’s seal-skin trousers. Great hummocks of ice from 20 to 40 feet in height were encountered. In crossing these ridges the sledge frequently capsized and rolled over and over, dogs, cargo, and all. In twelve days a distance not less than 400 miles was covered; the last day’s travel, when provisions ran short, was 70 miles.
Dr. Kane had not completed the entire circuit of the frozen waters of Smith Sound. He could not yet say whether it was landlocked or whether a channel existed still farther to the north. This he determined to discover. McGary, Bonsall, Hickey, and Riley were detailed for the first section of the new parties. They were accompanied by Morton, who had orders to keep himself as fresh as possible, so as to enter on his farthest north reach in the best possible condition.
They left the vessel on the 4th of June, and made for the Humboldt Glacier. Here Morton was joined by Hans with the dog-sledge, and the two set out on the 18th June, pursuing a northerly course nearly parallel with the glacier, and from 4 to 7 miles distant from it, according to the condition of the ice. The icebergs given off by the glacier presented great difficulties, but these were finally overcome. On the 21st of June, Kennedy Channel was sighted, and they directed their course towards the cape at the eastern side of the entrance – Cape Andrew Jackson. Here they found open water, and it was with great difficulty that the cape was rounded. Still proceeding north, they reached Cape Constitution in latitude 81° 22′. An attempt to pass this cape failed. Morton climbed up the cliff to a height of 500 feet, and could get no farther. As far as he could see not a speck of ice was visible. He stated: “As far as I could discern, the sea was open, a swell coming in from the northward and running crosswise, as if with a small eastern set. The wind was due north – enough of it to make white caps – and the surf broke in on the rocks below in regular breakers. The sky to the north-west was of dark rain-cloud, the first that I had seen since the brig was frozen up. Ivory gulls were nesting in the rocks above me, and out to sea were mollemoke and silver-backed gulls. The ducks had not been seen north of the first island of the channel, but petrel and gulls hung about the waves near the coast.”
Morton was absent on this journey thirty days. The open condition of Kennedy Channel, discovered by him, had a most important bearing on some of the expeditions which followed Kane’s. It gave strong support to the theory of an open polar sea, which was believed in by many until the British Expedition of 1875. Dr. Kane himself wavered between the arguments for and against. He, however, was aware of the fact that open water, which had frequently been described as a polar sea, had been found by many explorers in various parts of the Arctic regions, which on further investigation was found to be merely temporary. And Dr. Kane, after referring to this fact, wrote: “All these illusory discoveries were no doubt chronicled with perfect integrity; and it may seem to others, as since I have left the field it sometimes does to myself, that my own, though on a larger scale, may one day pass within the same category.”
All the sledge-parties had now returned to the brig, and the season of Arctic travel had ended. The question now to be faced was how they were to pass a second winter in the event of the ice not liberating the brig, which seemed likely. As Dr. Kane remarked, “there never was, and I trust never will be, a party worse armed for the encounter of a second Arctic winter. We have neither health, fuel, nor provisions.”
He first determined to examine the condition of the ice to the south. He found that for 35 miles the straits were absolutely tight. He then resolved to make an attempt to communicate with Beechy Island and obtain assistance from Sir Edward Belcher’s squadron, which was in search of Franklin in Wellington Channel. A whale-boat was mounted on a sledge, and Kane with five of his men started off on the tremendous undertaking. On some rocky islets near Littleton Island over 200 eider ducks were killed in a few hours. They ultimately reached within 10 miles of Cape Parry, but were stopped there by a solid mass of ice. They returned to Northumberland Island, and obtained an abundance of auks and eiders. The ice still remaining solid, they decided to return to the brig. There was still no sign of the ice breaking up. On 15th August, Dr. Kane wrote: “The season travels on: the young ice grows thicker, and my messmates’ faces grow longer, every day. I have again to play buffoon to keep up the spirits of the party.” On the 18th of August the amount of wood was reduced to 6 lb. a meal. A suggestion was now made by some of the party that an effort should be made to reach the Danish settlements. On 24th August, Dr. Kane called all hands and frankly explained his reasons which determined him to remain with the brig. He gave his permission, however, to such as were desirous of making the attempt to reach the settlements to do so. Eight men decided to remain with Dr. Kane. The others received a liberal share of the resources, and left the brig on 28th August. One of this party – George Riley – returned a few days afterwards. Dr. Kane now took steps to make the brig as warm as possible in view of the fact that there was little fuel left. Moss and turf were collected with which the quarter-deck was well padded. A space about 18 feet square was enclosed below, and this was packed from floor to ceiling with inner walls of the same material. The floor was covered 2 inches deep with oakum, on the top of which was placed a canvas carpet. The entrance to this space was from the hold by a low moss-lined tunnel. The whole arrangement was an imitation of the igloë of the Esquimaux. The outer-deck planking of the brig was now stripped off and stacked for firewood. On the 11th September the stock of game consisted of six long-tailed ducks and three ptarmigan.
Soon after this, Dr. Kane started with Hans to try and obtain seal in the open water some distance from the brig. Seal were sighted, but before they could be reached the ice became thin and dangerous. An attempt was made to reach a solid floe, but when within 50 paces from it, the sledges broke through. What followed is best described in Dr. Kane’s own words: “My first thought was to liberate the dogs. I leaned forward to cut poor Tood’s traces, and the next minute was swimming in a little circle of pasty ice and water alongside him. Hans, dear good fellow, drew near to help me, uttering piteous expressions in broken English; but I ordered him to throw himself on his belly, with his hands and legs extended, and to make for the island by cogging himself forward with his jack-knife. In the meantime – a mere instant – I was floundering about with sledge, dogs, and lines, in confused puddle around me. I succeeded in cutting poor Tood’s lines and letting him scramble to the ice, for the poor fellow was drowning me with his piteous caresses, and made my way for the sledge; but I found that it would not buoy me, and that I had no resource but to try the circumference of the hole. Around this I paddled faithfully, the miserable ice always yielding when my hopes of a lodgement were greatest. During this process I enlarged my circle of operations to a very uncomfortable diameter, and was beginning to feel weaker after every effort. Hans meanwhile had reached the firm ice, and was on his knees, like a good Moravian, praying incoherently in English and Esquimaux; at every fresh crushing-in of the ice he would ejaculate ‘God!’ and when I recommenced my paddling he recommenced his prayers.
“I was nearly gone. My knife had been lost in cutting out the dogs; and a spare one which I carried in my trousers-pocket was so enveloped in the wet skins that I could not reach it. I owed my extrication at last to a newly broken team-dog who was still fast to the sledge, and in struggling carried one of the runners chock against the edge of the circle. All my previous attempts to use the sledge as a bridge had failed, for it broke through, to the much greater injury of the ice. I felt that it was a last chance. I threw myself on my back, so as to lessen as much as possible my weight, and placed the nape of my neck against the rim or edge of the ice; then with caution slowly bent my leg, and, placing the ball of my moccasined foot against the sledge, I pressed steadily against the runner, listening to the half-yielding crunch of the ice beneath.
“Presently I felt that my head was pillowed by the ice, and that my wet fur jumper was sliding up the surface. Next came my shoulders; they were fairly on. One more decided push, and I was launched up on the