In this way they went on till January 15th; the moon, now in its last quarter, was hardly visible; the sun, although always beneath the horizon, gave a sort of twilight for six hours every day, but not enough to light up the route, which had to be directed by the compass. Then Bell went on ahead; Hatteras followed next; Simpson and the doctor sought also to keep in a straight line behind, with their eyes on Hatteras alone; and yet, in spite of all their efforts, they often got thirty or forty degrees from the right way, much to their annoyance.

Sunday, January 15th, Hatteras judged that they had come about one hundred miles to the south; this morning was set aside to mending their clothes and materials; the reading of divine service was not forgotten.

At noon they started again; the temperature was very low; the thermometer marked only -22 degrees; the air was very clear.

Suddenly, without warning, a frozen vapor arose into the air from the ice, to a height of about ninety feet, and hung motionless; no one could see a foot before him; this vapor formed in long, sharp crystals upon their clothing.



The travellers, surprised by this phenomenon, which is called frost-rime, only thought of getting together; so immediately various shouts were heard:—

"O Simpson!"

"Bell, this way!"

"Dr. Clawbonny!"

"Doctor!"

"Captain, where are you?"

They began to look for one another with outstretched arms, wandering through the fog which their eyes could not pierce. But to their disappointment they could hear no answer; the vapor seemed incapable of carrying sound.

Each one then thought of firing his gun as a signal to the others. But if their voices were too feeble, the reports of the fire-arms were too loud; for the echoes, repeated in every direction, made but a confused roar, in which no particular direction could be perceived.

Then they began to act, each one as he thought best. Hatteras stood still and folded his arms. Simpson contented himself with stopping the sledge. Bell retraced his steps, feeling them with his hand. The doctor, stumbling over the blocks of ice, wandered here and there, getting more and more bewildered.

At the end of five minutes he said to himself,—

"This can't last long! Singular climate! This is too much! There is nothing to help us, without speaking of these sharp crystals which cut my face. Halloo, Captain!" he shouted again.

But he heard no answer; he fired his gun, but in spite of his thick gloves the iron burned his hands. Meanwhile he thought he saw a confused mass moving near him.

"There's some one," he said. "Hatteras! Bell! Simpson! Is that you? Come, answer!"

A dull roar was alone heard.

"Ah!" thought the doctor, "what is that?"

The object approached; it lost its first size and appeared in more definite shape. A terrible thought flashed into the doctor's mind.

"A bear!" he said to himself.

In fact, it was a huge bear; lost in the fog, it came and went with great danger to the men, whose presence it certainly did not suspect.

"Matters are growing complicated!" thought the doctor, standing still.

Sometimes he felt the animal's breath, which was soon lost in the frost-rime; again he would see the monster's huge paws beating the air so near him that his clothes were occasionally torn by its sharp claws; he jumped back, and the animal disappeared like a phantasmagoric spectre.



But as he sprang back he found an elevation beneath his feet; he climbed up first one block of ice, then another, feeling his way with his staff.

"An iceberg!" he said to himself; "if I can get to the top I am safe."

With these words he climbed up an elevation of about ninety feet with surprising agility; he arose above the frozen mist, the top of which was sharply defined.

"Good!" he said to himself; and looking about him he saw his three companions emerging from the vapor.

"Hatteras!"

"Dr. Clawbonny!"

"Bell!"

"Simpson!"

These names were shouted out almost at the same time; the sky, lit up by a magnificent halo, sent forth pale rays which colored the frost-rime as if it were a cloud, and the top of the icebergs seemed to rise from a mass of molten silver. The travellers found themselves within a circle of less than a hundred feet in diameter. Thanks to the purity of the air in this upper layer in this low temperature, their words could be easily heard, and they were able to talk on the top of this iceberg. After the first shots, each one, hearing no answer, had only thought of climbing above the mist.

"The sledge!" shouted the captain.

"It's eighty feet beneath us," answered Simpson.

"Is it all right?"

"All right."

"And the bear?" asked the doctor.

"What bear?" said Bell.

"A bear!" said Hatteras; "let's go down."

"No!" said the doctor; "we shall lose our way, and have to begin it all over again."

"And if he eats our dogs—" said Hatteras.

At that moment Duke was heard barking, the sound rising through the mist.

"That's Duke!" shouted Hatteras; "there's something wrong. I'm going down."

All sorts of howling arose to their ears; Duke and the dogs were barking furiously. The noise sounded like a dull murmur, like the roar of a crowded, noisy room. They knew that some invisible struggle was going on below, and the mist was occasionally agitated like the sea when marine monsters are fighting.

"Duke, Duke!" shouted the captain, as he made ready to enter again into the frost-rime.

"Wait a moment, Hatteras,—wait a moment! It seems to me that the fog is lifting."

It was not lifting, but sinking, like water in a pool; it appeared to be descending into the ground from which it had risen; the summits of the icebergs grew larger; others, which had been hidden, arose like new islands; by an optical illusion, which may be easily imagined, the travellers, clinging to these ice-cones, seemed to be rising in the air, while the top of the mist sank beneath them.

Soon the top of the sledge appeared, then the harnessed dogs, and then about thirty other animals, then great objects moving confusedly, and Duke leaping about with his head alternately rising and sinking in the frozen mist.

"Foxes!" shouted Bell.

"Bears!" said the doctor; "one, two, three."

"Our dogs, our provisions!" cried Simpson.

A troop of foxes and bears, having come across the sledge, were ravaging the provisions. Their instinct of pillaging united them in perfect harmony; the dogs were barking furiously, but the animals paid no heed, but went on in their work of destruction.

"Fire!" shouted the captain, discharging his piece.



His companions did the same. But at the combined report the bears, raising their heads and uttering a singular roar, gave the signal to depart; they fell into a little trot which a galloping horse could not have kept up with, and, followed by the foxes, they soon disappeared amid the ice to the north.



CHAPTER XXX. THE CAIRN.

This phenomenon, which is peculiar to the polar regions, had lasted three quarters of an hour; the bears and foxes had had plenty of time; these provisions arrived opportunely for these animals, who were nearly starved during the inclement weather; the canvas cover of the sledge was torn by their strong claws, the casks of pemmican were opened and emptied; the biscuit-sacks pillaged, the tea spilled over the snow, a barrel of alcohol torn open and its contents lost, their camping materials scattered and damaged, bore witness to the ferocity of these wild beasts, and their greediness.

"This is a misfortune," said Bell, gazing at this scene of ruin.

"Which is probably irreparable," said Simpson.

"Let us first estimate the loss," interrupted the doctor, "and we'll talk about it afterwards."

Hatteras, without saying a word, began to gather the scattered boxes and sacks; they collected the pemmican and biscuits which could be eaten; the loss of part of their alcohol was much to be regretted; for if that was gone there would be nothing warm to drink; no tea, no coffee. In making an inventory of the supplies left, the doctor found two hundred pounds of pemmican gone, and a hundred and fifty pounds of biscuit; if their journey continued they would have to subsist on half-rations.

They then began to discuss what should be done, whether they should return to the ship and start out again. But how could they make up their minds to lose the hundred and fifty miles they had already made? To return without fuel would have a depressing effect upon the spirits of the crew. Could men be found again to resume their march across the ice?

Evidently it was better to push on, even at the risk of severe privations.

The doctor, Hatteras, and Bell were of this opinion; Simpson wanted to go back; the fatigue of the journey had worn upon his health; he was visibly weaker; but finding himself alone of this opinion, he resumed his place at the head of the sledge, and the little caravan continued its journey to the south.

During the three next days, from the 15th to the 17th of January, all the monotonous incidents of the voyage were repeated; they advanced more slowly, and with much fatigue; their legs grew tired; the dogs dragged the sledge with difficulty; their diminished supply of food could not comfort men or beasts. The weather was very variable, changing from intense, dry cold to damp, penetrating mists.

January 18th the aspect of the ice-fields changed suddenly; a great number of peaks, like sharp-pointed pyramids, and very high, appeared at the horizon; the ground in certain places came through the snow; it seemed formed of gneiss, schist, and quartz, with some appearance of limestone. The travellers at last touched earth again, and this land they judged to be that called North Cornwall.

The doctor could not help striking the earth with joy; they had now only a hundred miles to go before reaching Cape Belcher, but their fatigue increased strangely on this soil, covered with sharp rocks, and interspersed with dangerous points, crevasses, and precipices; they had to go down into the depths of these abysses, climb steep ascents, and cross narrow gorges, in which the snow was drifted to the depth of thirty or forty feet.



The travellers soon regretted the almost easy journey over the ice-fields, which so well suited the sledge; now it had to be dragged by main force; the weary dogs were insufficient; the men, compelled to take their place alongside of them, wore themselves out with hauling; often they had to take off the whole load to get over some steep hills; a place only ten feet wide often kept them busy for hours; so in this first day they made only five miles in North Cornwall, which is certainly well named, for it exhibits all the roughness, the sharp points, the steep gorges, the confused rockiness, of the southwest coast of England.

The next day the sledge reached the top of the hills near the shore; the exhausted travellers, being unable to make a snow-hut, were obliged to pass the night under the tent, wrapped up in buffalo-skins, and drying their wet stockings by placing them about their bodies. The inevitable consequences of such conduct are easily comprehended; that night the thermometer fell below -44 degrees, and the mercury froze.

Simpson's health caused great anxiety; a persistent cough, violent rheumatism, and intolerable pain obliged him to lie on the sledge which he could no longer guide. Bell took his place; he too was suffering, but not so much as to be incapacitated. The doctor also felt the consequences of this trip in this terrible weather; but he uttered no complaint; he walked on, resting on his staff; he made out the way and helped every one. Hatteras, impassible, and as strong as on the first day, followed the sledge in silence.

January 20th the weather was so severe that the slightest effort produced complete prostration. Still, the difficulties of the way were so great, that Hatteras, the doctor, and Bell harnessed themselves with the dogs; sudden shocks had broken the front of the sledge, and they had to stop to repair it. Such delays were frequent every day.

The travellers followed a deep ravine, up to their waists in snow, and perspiring violently in spite of the intense cold. They did not say a word. Suddenly Bell, who was near the doctor, looked at him with some alarm; then, without uttering a word, he picked up a handful of snow and began rubbing his companion's face violently.



"Well, Bell!" said the doctor, resisting.

But Bell continued rubbing.

"Come, Bell," began the doctor again, his mouth, nose, and eyes full of snow, "are you mad? What's the matter?"

"If you have a nose left," answered Bell, "you ought to be grateful to me."

"A nose!" answered the doctor, quickly, clapping his hand to his face.

"Yes, Doctor, you were frost-bitten; your nose was white when I looked at you, and if I had not done as I did, you would have lost that ornament which is in the way on a journey, but agreeable to one's existence."

In fact, the doctor's nose was almost frozen; the circulation of the blood was restored in time, and, thanks to Bell, all danger was gone.

"Thanks, Bell!" said the doctor; "I'll be even with you yet."

"I hope so, Doctor," the carpenter answered; "and may Heaven protect us from worse misfortunes!"

"Alas, Bell," continued the doctor, "you mean Simpson! The poor fellow is suffering terribly."

"Do you fear for his life?" asked Hatteras, quickly.

"Yes, Captain," answered the doctor.

"And why?"

"He has a violent attack of scurvy; his legs have begun to swell, and his gums too; the poor fellow lies half frozen on the sledge, and every movement redoubles his suffering. I pity him, Hatteras, and I can't do anything to relieve him."

"Poor Simpson!" murmured Bell.

"Perhaps we shall have to halt for a day or two," resumed the doctor.

"Halt!" shouted Hatteras, "when the lives of eighteen men are hanging on our return!"

"Still—" said the doctor.

"Clawbonny, Bell, listen to me," said Hatteras; "we have food for only twenty days! Judge for yourselves whether we can stop for a moment!"

Neither the doctor nor Bell made any reply, and the sledge resumed its progress, which had been delayed for a moment. That evening they stopped beneath a hillock of ice, in which Bell at once cut a cavern; the travellers entered it; the doctor passed the night attending to Simpson; the scurvy had already made fearful ravages, and his sufferings caused perpetual laments to issue from his swollen lips.

"Ah, Dr. Clawbonny!"

"Courage, my dear fellow!" said the doctor.

"I shall never get well! I feel it! I'd rather die!"

The doctor answered these despairing words by incessant cares; although worn out by the fatigue of the day, he spent the night in composing a soothing potion for his patient; but the lime-juice was ineffectual, and continual friction could not keep down the progress of the scurvy.



The next day he had to be placed again upon the sledge, although he besought them to leave him behind to die in peace; then they resumed their dreary and difficult march.

The frozen mists penetrated the three men to the bone; the snow and sleet dashed against them; they were working like draught-horses, and with a scanty supply of food.

Duke, like his master, kept coming and going, enduring every fatigue, always alert, finding out by himself the best path; they had perfect confidence in his wonderful instinct.

During the morning of January 23d, amid almost total darkness, for the moon was new, Duke had run on ahead; for many hours he was not seen; Hatteras became uneasy, especially because there were many traces of bears to be seen; he was uncertain what to do, when suddenly a loud barking was heard.

Hatteras urged on the sledge, and soon he found the faithful animal at the bottom of a ravine. Duke stood as motionless as if turned to stone, barking before a sort of cairn made of pieces of limestone, covered with a cement of ice.

"This time," said the doctor, detaching his harness, "it's a cairn, there's no doubt of that."

"What's that to us?" asked Hatteras.

"Hatteras, if it is a cairn, it may contain some document of value for us; perhaps some provisions, and it would be worth while to see."

"What European could have come as far as this?" asked Hatteras, shrugging his shoulders.

"But in lack of Europeans," answered the doctor, "cannot Esquimaux have made it here to contain what they have fished or shot? It's their habit, I think."

"Well, go and look at it," continued Hatteras; "but I'm afraid it will be hardly worth your while."

Clawbonny and Bell walked to the cairn with picks in their hands. Duke continued barking furiously. The limestones were firmly fastened together by the ice; but a few blows scattered them on the ground.

"There's something there, evidently," said the doctor.

"I think so," answered Bell.

They rapidly destroyed the cairn. Soon they found a bundle and in it a damp paper. The doctor took it with a beating heart. Hatteras ran forward, seized the paper, and read:—

"Altam..., Porpoise, December 13, 1860, longitude 12.. degrees, latitude 8.. degrees 35 minutes."

"The Porpoise?" said the doctor.

"The Porpoise!" replied Hatteras. "I never heard of a ship of this name in these seas."

"It is clear," resumed the doctor, "that travellers, perhaps shipwrecked sailors, have been here within two months."

"That is sure," said Bell.

"What are we going to do?" asked the doctor.

"Push on," answered Hatteras, coldly. "I don't know anything about any ship called the Porpoise, but I know that the brig Forward is waiting for our return."



CHAPTER XXXI. THE DEATH OF SIMPSON.

They resumed their journey; the mind of every one was filled with new and unexpected ideas, for to meet any one in these regions is about the most remarkable event that can happen. Hatteras frowned uneasily.

"The Porpoise!" he kept saying to himself; "what ship is that? And what is it doing so near the Pole?"

At the thought, he shuddered. The doctor and Bell only thought of the two results which might follow the discovery of this document, that they might be of service in saving some one, or, possibly, that they might be saved by them. But the difficulties, obstacles, and dangers soon returned, and they could only think of their perilous position.



Simpson's condition grew worse; the doctor could not be mistaken about the symptoms of a speedy death. He could do nothing; he was himself suffering from a painful ophthalmia, which might be accompanied by deafness if he did not take care. The twilight at that time gave light enough, and this light, reflected by the snow, was bad for the eyes; it was hard to protect them from the reflection, for glasses would be soon covered with a layer of ice which rendered them useless. Hence they had to guard carefully against accident by the way, and they had to run the risk of ophthalmia; still, the doctor and Bell covered their eyes and took turns in guiding the sledge. It ran far from smoothly on its worn runners; it became harder and harder to drag it; their path grew more difficult; the land was of volcanic origin, and all cut up with craters; the travellers had been compelled gradually to ascend fifteen hundred feet to reach the top of the mountains. The temperature was lower, the storms were more violent, and it was a sorry sight to see these poor men on these lonely peaks.



They were also made sick by the whiteness of everything; the uniform brilliancy tired them; it made them giddy; the earth seemed to wave beneath their feet with no fixed point on the immense white surface; they felt as one does on shipboard when the deck seems to be giving way beneath the foot; they could not get over the impression, and the persistence of the feeling wearied their heads. Their limbs grew torpid, their minds grew dull, and often they walked like men half asleep; then a slip or a sudden fall would rouse them for a few moments from their sluggishness.

January 25th they began to descend the steep slopes, which was even more fatiguing; a false step, which it was by no means easy to avoid, might hurl them down into deep ravines where they would certainly have perished. Towards evening a violent tempest raged about the snowy summit; it was impossible to withstand the force of the hurricane; they had to lie down on the ground, but so low was the temperature that they ran a risk of being frozen to death at once.

Bell, with Hatteras's aid, built with much difficulty a snow-house, in which the poor men sought shelter; there they partook of a few fragments of pemmican and a little hot tea; only four gallons of alcohol were left; and they had to use this to allay their thirst, for snow cannot be absorbed if taken in its natural state; it has to be melted first. In the temperate zone, where the cold hardly ever sinks much below the freezing-point, it can do no harm; but beyond the Polar Circle it is different; it reaches so low a temperature that the bare hand can no more touch it than it can iron at a white heat, and this, although it is a very poor conductor of heat; so great is the difference of temperature between it and the stomach that its absorption produces real suffocation. The Esquimaux prefer severe thirst to quenching it with this snow, which does not replace water, and only augments the thirst instead of appeasing it. The only way the travellers could make use of it was by melting it over the spirit-lamp.

At three in the morning, when the tempest was at its height, the doctor took his turn at the watch; he was lying in a corner of the hut when a groan of distress from Simpson attracted his attention; he arose to see to him, but in rising he hit his head sharply against the icy roof; without paying any attention to that, he bent over Simpson and began to rub his swollen, discolored legs; after doing this for a quarter of an hour he started to rise, and bumped his head again, although he was on his knees.

"That's odd," he said to himself.

He raised his hand above his head; the roof was perceptibly sinking.

"Great God!" he cried; "wake up, my friends!"

At his shouts Hatteras and Bell arose quickly, striking their heads against the roof; they were in total darkness.

"We shall be crushed!" said the doctor; "let's get out!"

And all three, dragging Simpson after them, abandoned their dangerous quarters; and it was high time, for the blocks of ice, ill put together, fell with a loud crash.



The poor men found themselves then without shelter against the hurricane. Hatteras attempted to raise the tent, but it was impossible, so severe was the wind, and they had to shelter themselves beneath the canvas, which was soon covered with a thick layer of snow; but this snow prevented the radiation of their warmth and kept them from being frozen to death.

The storm lasted all night; Bell, when he was harnessing the half-starved dogs, noticed that three of them had begun to eat the leather straps; two were very sick and seemed unable to go on. Still, they set out as well as they could; they had sixty miles between them and the point they wished to reach.

On the 26th, Bell, who was ahead, shouted suddenly to his companions. They ran towards him, and he pointed with astonishment to a gun resting on a piece of ice.



"A gun!" cried the doctor.

Hatteras took it; it was in good condition, and loaded.

"The men of the Porpoise can't be far off."

Hatteras, as he was examining the gun, noticed that it was of American make; his hands clinched nervously its barrel.

"Forward!" he said calmly.

They continued to descend the mountains. Simpson seemed deprived of all feeling; he had not even strength left to moan.

The tempest continued to rage; the sledge went on more and more slowly; they made but a few miles in twenty-four hours, and, in spite of the strictest economy, their supplies threatened to give out; but so long as enough was left to carry them back, Hatteras pushed on.

On the 27th they found, partly buried beneath the snow, a sextant and then a flask, which contained brandy, or rather a piece of ice, in the middle of which all the spirit of the liquor had collected in the form of snow; it was of no use.

Evidently, without meaning it, Hatteras was following in the wake of some great disaster; he went on by the only possible route, collecting the traces of some terrible shipwreck. The doctor kept a sharp lookout for other cairns, but in vain.

Sad thoughts beset him: in fact, if he should discover these wretches, of what service could he be to them? He and his companions were beginning to lack everything; their clothing was torn, their supplies were scanty. If the survivors were many, they would all starve to death. Hatteras seemed inclined to flee from them! Was he not justified, since the safety of the crew depended upon him? Ought he to endanger the safety of all by bringing strangers on board?

But then strangers were men, perhaps their countrymen! Slight as was their chance of safety, ought they to be deprived of it? The doctor wanted to get Bell's opinion; but Bell refused to answer. His own sufferings had hardened his heart. Clawbonny did not dare ask Hatteras: so he sought aid from Providence.

Towards the evening of that day, Simpson appeared to be failing fast; his cold, stiff limbs, his impeded breathing, which formed a mist about his head, his convulsive movements, announced that his last hour had come. His expression was terrible to behold; it was despairing, with a look of impotent rage at the captain. It contained a whole accusation, mute reproaches which were full of meaning, and perhaps deserved.

Hatteras did not go near the dying man. He avoided him, more silent, more shut into himself than ever!

The following night was a terrible one; the violence of the tempest was doubled; three times the tent was thrown over, and snow was blown over the suffering men, blinding them, and wounding them with the pieces torn from the neighboring masses. The dogs barked incessantly. Simpson was exposed to all the inclemency of the weather. Bell succeeded in again raising the canvas, which, if it did not protect them from the cold, at least kept off the snow. But a sudden squall blew it down for the fourth time and carried it away with a fierce blast.

"Ah, that is too much!" shouted Bell.

"Courage, courage!" answered the doctor, stooping down to escape being blown away.

Simpson was gasping for breath. Suddenly, with a last effort, he half rose, stretched his clinched fist at Hatteras, who was gazing steadily at him, uttered a heart-rending cry, and fell back dead in the midst of his unfinished threat.



"Dead!" said the doctor.

"Dead!" repeated Bell.

Hatteras, who was approaching the corpse, drew back before the violence of the wind.

He was the first of the crew who succumbed to the murderous climate, the first to offer up his life, after incalculable sufferings, to the captain's persistent obstinacy. This man had considered him an assassin, but Hatteras did not quail before the accusation. But a tear, falling from his eyes, froze on his pale cheek.

The doctor and Bell looked at him in terror. Supported by his long staff, he seemed like the genius of these regions, straight in the midst of the fierce blast, and terrible in his stern severity.

He remained standing, without stirring, till the first rays of the twilight appeared, bold and unconquerable, and seeming to defy the tempest which was roaring about him.



CHAPTER XXXII. THE RETURN TO THE FORWARD.

Toward six o'clock in the morning the wind fell, and, shifting suddenly to the north, it cleared the clouds from the sky; the thermometer stood at -33 degrees. The first rays of the twilight appeared on the horizon above which it would soon peer.

Hatteras approached his two dejected companions and said to them, sadly and gently,—

"My friends, we are more than sixty miles from the point mentioned by Sir Edward Belcher. We have only just enough food left to take us back to the ship. To go farther would only expose us to certain death, without our being of service to any one. We must return."

"That is a wise decision, Hatteras," answered the doctor; "I should have followed you anywhere, but we are all growing weaker every day; we can hardly set one foot before the other; I approve of returning."

"Is that your opinion, Bell?" asked Hatteras.

"Yes, Captain," answered the carpenter.

"Well," continued Hatteras, "we will take two days for rest. That's not too much. The sledge needs a great many repairs. I think, too, we ought to build a snow-house in which we can repose."

This being decided, the three men set to work energetically. Bell took the necessary precautions to insure the solidity of the building, and soon a satisfactory retreat arose at the bottom of the ravine where they had last halted.



It was doubtless after a hard struggle that Hatteras had decided to discontinue his journey. So much effort and fatigue thrown away! A useless trip, entailing the death of one of his men! To return without a scrap of coal: what would the crew say? What might it not do under the lead of Shandon? But Hatteras could not continue the struggle any longer.

He gave all his attention to their preparations for returning; the sledge was repaired; its load, too, had become much lighter, and only weighed two hundred pounds. They mended their worn-out, torn clothes, all soaked through and through by the snow; new moccasins and snow-shoes replaced those which were no longer serviceable. This kept them busy the whole of the 29th and the morning of the 30th; then they all sought what rest they could get, and prepared for what was before them.

During the thirty-six hours spent in or near the snow-house, the doctor had been noticing Duke, whose singular behavior did not seem to him to be natural; the dog kept going in circles which seemed to have a common centre; there was a sort of elevation in the soil, produced by accumulated layers of ice; Duke, as he ran around this place, kept barking gently and wagging his tail impatiently, looking at his master as if asking something.

The doctor, after reflecting a moment, ascribed this uneasiness to the presence of Simpson's corpse, which his companions had not yet had time to bury. Hence he resolved to proceed to this sad ceremony on that very day; the next morning they were to start. Bell and the doctor, picks in hand, went to the bottom of the ravine; the elevation which Duke had noticed offered a suitable place for the grave, which would have to be dug deep to escape the bears.

The doctor and Bell began by removing the soft snow, then they attacked the solid ice; at the third blow of his pick the doctor struck against some hard body; he picked up the pieces and found them the fragments of a glass bottle. Bell brought to light a stiffened bag, in which were a few crumbs of fresh biscuit.

"What's this?" said the doctor.

"What can it be?" asked Bell, stopping his work.

The doctor called to Hatteras, who came at once.

Duke barked violently, and with his paws tried to tear up the ice.

"Have we by any possibility come across a supply of provisions?" said the doctor.

"It looks like it," answered Bell.

"Go on!" said Hatteras.

A few bits of food were found and a box quarter full of pemmican.

"If we have," said Hatteras, "the bears have visited it before we did. See, these provisions have been touched already."

"It is to be feared," answered the doctor, "for—"

He did not finish his sentence; a cry from Bell interrupted him; he had turned over a tolerably large piece of ice and showed a stiff, frozen human leg in the ice.

"A corpse!" cried the doctor.

"It's a grave," said Hatteras.

It was the body of a sailor about thirty years old, in a perfect state of preservation; he wore the usual dress of Arctic sailors; the doctor could not say how long he had been dead.

After this, Bell found another corpse, that of a man of fifty, exhibiting traces of the sufferings that had killed him.



"They were never buried," cried the doctor; "these poor men were surprised by death as we find them."

"You are right, Doctor," said Bell.

"Go on, go on!" said Hatteras.

Bell hardly dared. Who could say how many corpses lay hidden here?

"They were the victims of just such an accident as we nearly perished by," said the doctor; "their snow-house fell in. Let us see if one may not be breathing yet!"

The place was rapidly cleared away, and Bell brought up a third body, that of a man of forty; he looked less like a corpse than the others; the doctor bent over him and thought he saw some signs of life.

"He's alive!" he shouted.

Bell and he carried this body into the snow-house, while Hatteras stood in silence, gazing at the sunken dwelling.



The doctor stripped the body; it bore no signs of injury; with Bell's aid he rubbed it vigorously with tow dipped in alcohol, and he saw life gradually reviving within it; but the man was in a state of complete prostration, and unable to speak; his tongue clove to his palate as if it were frozen.

The doctor examined his patient's pockets; they were empty. No paper. He let Bell continue rubbing, and went out to Hatteras.

He found him in the ruined snow-house, clearing away the floor; soon he came out, bearing a half-burned piece of an envelope. A few words could be deciphered:—

....tamont ....orpoise ....w York.

"Altamont!" shouted the doctor, "of the Porpoise! of New York!"

"An American!" said Hatteras.

"I shall save him," said the doctor; "I'll answer for it, and we shall find out the explanation of this puzzle."

He returned to Altamont, while Hatteras remained pensive. The doctor succeeded in recalling the unfortunate man to life, but not to consciousness; he neither saw, heard, nor spoke, but at any rate he was alive!

The next morning Hatteras said to the doctor,—

"We must start."

"All right, Hatteras! The sledge is not loaded; we shall carry this poor fellow back to the ship with us.

"Very well," said Hatteras. "But first let us bury these corpses."

The two unknown sailors were placed beneath the ruins of the snow-house; Simpson's body took the place of Altamont's.

The three travellers uttered a short prayer over their companion, and at seven o'clock in the morning they set off again for the ship.

Two of the dogs were dead. Duke volunteered to drag the sledge, and he worked as resolutely as a Greenland dog.

For twenty days, from January 31st to February 19th, the return was very much like the first part of the journey. Save that it was in the month of February, the coldest of the whole year, and the ice was harder; the travellers suffered terribly from the cold, but not from the wind or snow-storm.

The sun reappeared for the first time January 31st; every day it rose higher above the horizon. Bell and the doctor were at the end of their strength, almost blind and quite lame; the carpenter could not walk without crutches. Altamont was alive, but continued insensible; sometimes his life was despaired of, but unremitting care kept him alive! And yet the doctor needed to take the greatest care of himself, for his health was beginning to suffer.

Hatteras thought of the Forward! In what condition was he going to find it? What had happened on board? Had Johnson been able to withstand Shandon and his allies? The cold had been terrible! Had they burned the ship? Had they spared her masts and keel?

While thinking of this, Hatteras walked on as if he had wished to get an early view of the Forward.

February 24th, in the morning, he stopped suddenly. Three hundred paces before him appeared a reddish glow, above which rose an immense column of black smoke, which was lost in the gray clouds of the sky.

"See that smoke!" he shouted.

His heart beat as if it would burst.

"See that smoke!" he said to his companions. "My ship is on fire!"

"But we are more than three miles from it," said Bell. "It can't be the Forward!"

"Yes, but it is," answered the doctor; "the mirage makes it seem nearer."

"Let us run!" cried Hatteras.

They left the sledge in charge of Duke, and hastened after the captain. An hour later they came in sight of the ship. A terrible sight! The brig was burning in the midst of the ice, which was melting about her; the flames were lapping her hull, and the southerly breeze brought to Hatteras's ears unaccustomed sounds.

Five hundred feet from the ship stood a man raising his hands in despair; he stood there, powerless, facing the fire which was destroying the Forward.

The man was alone; it was Johnson.

Hatteras ran towards him.

"My ship! my ship!" he cried.

"You! Captain!" answered Johnson; "you! stop! not a step farther!"

"Well?" asked Hatteras with a terrible air.

"The wretches!" answered Johnson, "they've been gone forty-eight hours, after firing the ship!"

"Curse them!" groaned Hatteras.

Then a terrible explosion was heard; the earth trembled; the icebergs fell; a column of smoke rose to the clouds, and the Forward disappeared in an abyss of fire.



At that moment the doctor and Bell came up to Hatteras. He roused himself suddenly from his despair.

"My friends," he said energetically, "the cowards have taken flight! The brave will succeed! Johnson, Bell, you are bold; Doctor, you are wise; as for me, I have faith! There is the North Pole! Come, to work!"

Hatteras's companions felt their hearts glow at these brave words.

And yet the situation was terrible for these four men and the dying man, abandoned without supplies, alone at the eighty-fourth degree of latitude, in the very heart of the polar regions.

END OF PART I.



PART II. THE DESERT OF ICE.



THE DESERT OF ICE.



CHAPTER I. THE DOCTOR'S INVENTORY.

The design which Captain Hatteras had formed of exploring the North, and of giving England the honor of discovering the Pole, was certainly a bold one. This hardy sailor had just done all that human skill could do. After struggling for nine months against contrary winds and seas, after destroying icebergs and ice-fields, after enduring the severity of an unprecedentedly cold winter, after going over all that his predecessors had done, after carrying the Forward beyond the seas which were already known, in short, after completing half his task, he saw his grand plans completely overthrown. The treachery, or rather the demoralization of his wearied crew, the criminal folly of some of the ringleaders, left him in a terrible situation; of the eighteen men who had sailed in the brig, four were left, abandoned without supplies, without a boat, more than twenty-five hundred miles from home!

The explosion of the Forward, which had just blown up before their eyes, took from them their last means of subsistence. Still, Hatteras's courage did not abandon him at this terrible crisis. The men who were left were the best of the crew; they were genuine heroes. He made an appeal to the energy and wisdom of Dr. Clawbonny, to the devotion of Johnson and Bell, to his own faith in the enterprise; even in these desperate straits he ventured to speak of hope; his brave companions listened to him, and their courage in the past warranted confidence in their promises for the future.

The doctor, after listening to the captain's words, wanted to get an exact idea of their situation; and, leaving the others about five hundred feet from the ship, he made his way to the scene of the catastrophe.

Of the Forward, which had been built with so much care, nothing was left; pieces of ice, shapeless fragments all blackened and charred, twisted pieces of iron, ends of ropes still burning like fuse, and scattered here and there on the ice-field, testified to the force of the explosion. The cannon had been hurled to some distance, and was lying on a piece of ice that looked like a gun-carriage. The surface of the ice, for a circle of six hundred feet in diameter, was covered with fragments of all sorts; the brig's keel lay under a mass of ice; the icebergs, which had been partly melted by the fire, had already recovered their rock-like hardness.

The doctor then began to think of his ruined cabin, of his lost collections, of his precious instruments destroyed, his books torn, burned to ashes. So much that was valuable gone! He gazed with tearful eyes at this vast disaster, thinking not of the future, but of the irreparable misfortune which dealt him so severe a blow. He was immediately joined by Johnson; the old sailor's face bore signs of his recent sufferings; he had been obliged to struggle against his revolted companions, defending the ship which had been intrusted to his care. The doctor sadly pressed the boatswain's hand.



"Well, my friend, what is going to become of us?" asked the doctor.

"Who can say?" answered Johnson.

"At any rate," continued the doctor, "don't let us give way to despair; let us be men!"

"Yes, Doctor," answered the old sailor, "you are right; it's when matters look worst that we most need courage; we are in a bad way; we must see how we can best get out of it."

"Poor ship!" said the doctor, sighing; "I had become attached to it; I had got to look on it as on my own home, and there's not left a piece that can be recognized!"

"Who would think, Doctor, that this mass of dust and ashes could be so dear to our heart?"

"And the launch," continued the doctor, gazing around, "was it destroyed too?"

"No, Doctor; Shandon and the others, who left, took it with them."

"And the gig?"

"Was broken into a thousand pieces. See, those sheets of tin are all that's left of her."

"Then we have nothing but the Halkett-boat?"[1]

[Footnote 1: Made of india-rubber, and capable of being inflated at pleasure.]

"That is all, and it is because you insisted on our taking it, that we have that."

"It's not of much use," said the doctor.

"They were a pack of miserable, cowardly traitors who ran away!" said Johnson. "May they be punished as they deserve!"

"Johnson," answered the doctor, mildly, "we must remember that their suffering had worn upon them very much. Only exceptional natures remain stanch in adversity, which completely overthrows the weak. Let us rather pity than curse them!"

After these words the doctor remained silent for a few minutes, and gazed around uneasily.

"What is become of the sledge?" asked Johnson.

"We left it a mile back."

"In care of Simpson?"

"No, my friend; poor Simpson sank under the toil of the trip."

"Dead!" cried the boatswain.

"Dead!" answered the doctor.

"Poor fellow!" said Johnson; "but who knows whether we may not soon be reduced to envying his fate?"

"But we have brought back a dying man in place of the one we lost," answered the doctor.

"A dying man?"

"Yes, Captain Altamont."

The doctor gave the boatswain in a few words an account of their finding him.

"An American!" said Johnson, thoughtfully.

"Yes; everything seems to point that way. But what was this Porpoise which had evidently been shipwrecked, and what was he doing in these waters?"

"He came in order to be lost," answered Johnson; "he brought his crew to death, like all those whose foolhardiness leads them here. But, Doctor, did the expedition accomplish what it set out for?"

"Finding the coal?"

"Yes," answered Johnson.

The doctor shook his head sadly.

"None at all?" asked the old sailor.

"None; our supplies gave out, fatigue nearly conquered us. We did not even reach the spot mentioned by Edward Belcher."

"So," continued Johnson, "you have no fuel?"

"No."

"Nor food?"

"No."

"And no boat with which to reach England?"

They were both silent; they needed all their courage to meet this terrible situation.

"Well," resumed the boatswain, "there can be no doubts about our condition! We know what we have to expect! But the first thing to do, when the weather is so cold, is to build a snow-house."

"Yes," answered the doctor, "with Bell's aid that will be easy; then we'll go after the sledge, we'll bring the American here, and then we'll take counsel with Hatteras."

"Poor captain!" said Johnson, forgetting his own griefs; "he must suffer terribly."

With these words they returned to their companions. Hatteras was standing with folded arms, as usual, gazing silently into space. His face wore its usual expression of firmness. Of what was this remarkable man thinking? Of his desperate condition and shattered hopes? Was he planning to return, since both men and the elements had combined against his attempt?

No one could have read his thoughts, which his face in no way expressed. His faithful Duke was with him, braving a temperature of -32 degrees.

Bell lay motionless on the ice; his insensibility might cost him his life; he was in danger of being frozen to death. Johnson shook him violently, rubbed him with snow, and with some difficulty aroused him from his torpor.

"Come, Bell, take courage!" he said; "don't lose heart; get up; we have to talk matters over, and we need a shelter. Have you forgotten how to make a snow-house? Come, help me, Bell! There's an iceberg we can cut into! Come, to work! That will give us what we need, courage!"

Bell, aroused by these words, obeyed the old sailor.

"Meanwhile," Johnson went on, "the doctor will be good enough to go to the sledge and bring it back with the dogs."

"I am ready," answered the doctor; "in an hour I shall be back."

"Shall you go too, Captain?" added Johnson, turning to Hatteras.

Although he was deep in thought, the captain heard the boatswain's question, for he answered gently,—

"No, my friend, if the doctor is willing to go alone. We must form some plan of action, and I want to be alone to think matters over. Go. Do what you think right for the present. I will be thinking of the future."

Johnson turned to the doctor.

"It's singular," he said; "the captain seems to have forgotten his anger; his voice never was so gentle before."

"Well!" answered the doctor; "he has recovered his presence of mind. Mark my words, Johnson, that man will be able to save us!"

Thereupon the doctor wrapped himself up as well as he could, and, staff in hand, walked away towards the sledge in the midst of a fog which the moonlight made almost bright. Johnson and Bell set to work immediately; the old sailor encouraged the carpenter, who wrought on in silence; they did not need to build, but to dig into the solid ice; to be sure it was frozen very hard, and so rendered the task difficult, but it was thereby additionally secure; soon Johnson and Bell could work comfortably in the orifice, throwing outside all that they took from the solid mass.



From time to time Hatteras would walk fitfully, stopping suddenly every now and then; evidently he did not wish to reach the spot where his brig had been. As he had promised, the doctor was soon back; he brought with him Altamont, lying on the sledge beneath all the coverings; the Greenland dogs, thin, tired, and half starved, could hardly drag the sledge, and were gnawing at their harness; it was high time that men and beasts should take some rest.

While they were digging the house, the doctor happened to stumble upon a small stove which had not been injured by the explosion, and with a piece of chimney that could be easily repaired: the doctor carried it away in triumph. At the end of three hours the house was inhabitable; the stove was set in and filled with pieces of wood; it was soon roaring and giving out a comfortable warmth.

The American was brought in and covered up carefully; the four Englishmen sat about the fire. The last supplies of the sledge, a little biscuit and some hot tea, gave them some comfort. Hatteras did not speak; every one respected his silence. When the meal was finished the doctor made a sign for Johnson to follow him outside.

"Now," he said, "we are going to make an inventory of what is left. We must know exactly what things we have; they are scattered all about; we must pick them up; it may snow at any moment, and then it would be impossible to find a scrap."

"Don't let us lose any time, then," answered Johnson; "food and wood is what we need at once."

"Well, let us each take a side," answered the doctor, "so as to cover the whole ground; let us begin at the centre and go out to the circumference."

They went at once to the bed of ice where the Forward had lain; each examined with care all the fragments of the ship beneath the dim light of the moon. It was a genuine hunt; the doctor entered into this occupation with all the zest, not to say the pleasure, of a sportsman, and his heart beat high when he discovered a chest almost intact; but most were empty, and their fragments were scattered everywhere.

The violence of the explosion had been considerable; many things were but dust and ashes; the large pieces of the engine lay here and there, twisted out of shape; the broken flanges of the screw were hurled twenty fathoms from the ship and buried deeply in the hardened snow; the bent cylinders had been torn from their pivots; the chimney, torn nearly in two, and with chains still hanging to it, lay half hid under a large cake of ice; the bolts, bars, the iron-work of the helm, the sheathing, all the metal-work of the ship, lay about as if it had been fired from a gun.



But this iron, which would have made the fortune of a tribe of Esquimaux, was of no use under the circumstances; before anything else food had to be found, and the doctor did not discover a great deal.

"That's bad," he said to himself; "it is evident that the store-room, which was near the magazine, was entirely destroyed by the explosion; what wasn't burned was shattered to dust. It's serious; and if Johnson is not luckier than I am, I don't see what's going to become of us."

Still, as he enlarged his circles, the doctor managed to collect a few fragments of pemmican, about fifteen pounds, and four stone bottles, which had been thrown out upon the snow and so had escaped destruction; they held five or six pints of brandy.

Farther on he picked up two packets of grains of cochlearia, which would well make up for the loss of their lime-juice, which is so useful against the scurvy.

Two hours later the doctor and Johnson met. They told one another of their discoveries; unfortunately they had found but little to eat: some few pieces of salt pork, fifty pounds of pemmican, three sacks of biscuit, a little chocolate, some brandy, and about two pounds of coffee, picked up berry by berry on the ice.

No coverings, no hammocks, no clothing, were found; evidently the fire had destroyed all. In short, the doctor and boatswain had found supplies for three weeks at the outside, and with the strictest economy; that was not much for them in their state of exhaustion. So, in consequence of these disasters, Hatteras found himself not only without any coal, but also short of provisions.

As to the fuel supplied by the fragments of the ship, the pieces of the masts and the keel, they might hold out about three weeks; but then the doctor, before using it to heat their new dwelling, asked Johnson whether out of it they might not build a new ship, or at least a launch.

"No, Doctor," answered the boatswain, "it's impossible; there's not a piece of wood large enough; it's good for nothing except to keep us warm for a few days and then—"

"Then?" asked the doctor.

"God alone knows," answered the sailor.

Having made out their list, the doctor and Johnson went after the sledge; they harnessed the tired dogs, returned to the scene of the explosion, packed up the few precious objects they had found, and carried them to their new house; then, half frozen, they took their place near their companions in misfortune.



CHAPTER II. ALTAMONT'S FIRST WORDS.

Towards eight o'clock in the evening the snow-clouds cleared away for a few minutes; the constellations shone brilliantly in the clear air. Hatteras made use of this change to get the altitude of some stars; he went out without saying a word, carrying his instruments with him. He wished to ascertain his position and see if the ice-field had not been drifting again. After an absence of half an hour he came back, lay down in a corner, and remained perfectly still, although not asleep.

The next day snow began to fall heavily; the doctor could not help being glad that he had made his examination the day before, for a white curtain soon covered the whole expanse, and every trace of the explosion was hidden under three feet of snow.

On that day they could not set foot outside; fortunately their quarters were comfortable, or at least seemed so to the exhausted travellers. The little stove worked well, except occasionally when violent gusts drove the smoke into the room; with its heat they could make coffee and tea, which are both so serviceable beverages when the temperature is low.

The castaways, for they deserve the name, found themselves more comfortable than they had been for a long time; hence they only thought of the present, of the agreeable warmth, of the brief rest, forgetting, or even indifferent to the future, which threatened with speedy death.

The American suffered less, and gradually returned to life; he opened his eyes, but he did not say anything; his lips bore traces of the scurvy, and could not utter a sound; he could hear, and was told where he was and how he got there. He moved his head as a sign of gratitude; he saw that he had been saved from burial beneath the snow; the doctor forbore telling him how very short a time his death had been delayed, for, in a fortnight or three weeks at the most, their supply of food would be exhausted.

Towards midday Hatteras arose and went up to the doctor, Johnson, and Bell.

"My friends," he said to them, "we are going to take a final resolution as to the course we must follow. In the first place, I must ask Johnson to tell me under what circumstances this act of treachery came to pass."

"Why should we know?" said the doctor; "the fact is certain, we need give it no more thought."

"I am thinking of it, all the same," answered Hatteras. "But after I've heard what Johnson has to say, I shall not think of it again."



"This is the way it happened," went on the boatswain; "I did all I could to prevent the crime—"

"I am sure of that, Johnson, and I will add that the leaders had been plotting it for some time."

"So I thought," said the doctor.

"And I too," continued Johnson; "for very soon after your departure, Captain, on the very next day, Shandon, who was angry with you and was egged on by the others, took command of the ship; I tried to resist, but in vain. After that, every one acted as he saw fit; Shandon did not try to control them; he wanted to let the crew see that the time of suffering and privation had gone by. Hence there was no economy; a huge fire was lighted in the stove; they began to burn the brig. The men had the provisions given them freely, and the spirits too, and you can easily imagine the abuse they made of them after their long abstinence. Things went on in this way from the 7th to the 15th of January."

"So," said Hatteras, in a grave voice, "it was Shandon who incited the men to revolt?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Say nothing more about him. Go on, Johnson."

"It was towards January 24th or 25th, that the plan of leaving the ship was formed. They determined to reach the western coast of Baffin's Bay; from there, in the launch, they could meet whalers, or, perhaps, the settlements on the eastern side. Their supplies were abundant; the sick grew better with the hope of reaching home. So they made their plans for leaving; they built a sledge for the transport of their food, fuel, and the launch; the men were to drag it themselves. This occupied them until February 15th. I kept anxiously awaiting your return, Captain, and yet I feared having you present; you would have had no influence over the crew, who would rather have killed you than have remained on board. They were wild with the hope of escape. I took all my companions aside and spoke to them, I besought them to stay; I pointed out all the dangers of such a journey, as well as the cowardliness of abandoning you. I could get nothing, even from the best. They chose February 22d for leaving. Shandon was impatient. They heaped upon the sledge all the food and liquor it could hold; they took a great deal of wood; the whole larboard side had been cut away to the water-line. The last day they passed carousing; they ravaged and stole everything, and it was during this drunkenness that Pen and two or three others set fire to the ship. I resisted, and struggled against them; they threw me down and struck me; at last, these villains, with Shandon at their head, fled to the east, and disappeared from my sight. I remained alone; what could I do against this fire which was seizing the whole ship? The water-hole was frozen over; I hadn't a drop of water. For two days the Forward was wrapped in flames, and you know the rest."

Having finished this account, a long silence prevailed in this ice-house; the gloomy tale of the burning of the ship, the loss of their precious brig, appeared so vividly before the minds of the castaways; they found themselves before an impossibility, and that was a return to England. They did not dare to look at one another, for fear of seeing on each other's faces blank despair. There was nothing to be heard save the hasty breathing of the American.

At last Hatteras spoke.

"Johnson," said he, "I thank you; you have done all you could to save my ship. But you could not do anything alone. Again I thank you, and now don't let us speak again of this misfortune. Let us unite our efforts for the common safety. There are four of us here, four friends, and the life of one is of no more worth than the life of another. Let each one give his opinion on what should be done."

"Ask us, Hatteras," answered the doctor; "we are all devoted to you, our answers shall be sincere. And, in the first place, have you any plan?"

"I can't have any alone," said Hatteras, sadly. "My opinion might seem interested; I want to hear your opinion first."

"Captain," said Johnson, "before speaking on such weighty matters, I have an important question to ask you."

"What is it?"

"You ascertained our position yesterday; well, has the ice-field drifted any more, or are we in just the same place?"

"It has not stirred," answered Hatteras. "The latitude before we left was 80 degrees 15 minutes, and longitude 97 degrees 35 minutes."

"And," said Johnson, "how far are we from the nearest sea to the west?"

"About six hundred miles," answered Hatteras.

"And this water is—"

"Smith's Sound."

"The same which we could not cross last April?"

"The same."

"Well, Captain, now we know where we are, and we can make up our minds accordingly."

"Speak, then," said Hatteras, letting his head sink into his hands.

In that way he could hear his friends without looking at them.

"Well, Bell," said the doctor, "what do you think is the best course to follow?"

"It isn't necessary to reflect a long time," answered the carpenter; "we ought to return, without wasting a day or an hour, either to the south or the west, and reach the nearest coast, even if it took us two months!"

"We have supplies for only three weeks," answered Hatteras, without raising his head.

"Well," continued Johnson, "we must make that distance in three weeks, since it's our only chance of safety; if we have to crawl on our knees at the end, we must leave, and arrive in twenty-five days."

"This part of the northern continent is not known," answered Hatteras. "We may meet obstacles, such as mountains and glaciers, which will completely bar our progress."

"I don't consider that," answered the doctor, "a sufficient reason for not attempting the journey; evidently, we shall suffer a great deal; we ought to reduce our daily supply to the minimum, unless luck in hunting—"

"There's only half a pound of powder left," answered Hatteras.

"Come, Hatteras," resumed the doctor, "I know the weight of all your objections, and I don't nourish any vain hopes. But I think I can read your thoughts; have you any practicable plan?"

"No," answered the captain, after a few moments' hesitation.

"You do not doubt our courage," continued the doctor; "we are willing to follow you to the last, you know very well; but should we not now abandon all hope of reaching the Pole? Mutiny has overthrown your plans; you fought successfully against natural obstacles, but not against the weakness and perfidy of men; you have done all that was humanly possible, and I am sure you would have succeeded; but, in the present condition of affairs, are you not compelled to give up your project, and in order to take it up again, should you not try to reach England without delay?"

"Well, Captain?" asked Johnson, when Hatteras had remained a long time silent.

At last the captain raised his head, and said in a constrained tone,—

"Do you think you are sure of reaching the shore of the sound, tired as you are, and almost without food?"

"No," answered the doctor; "but it's sure the shore won't come to us; we must go to it. Perhaps we shall find to the south tribes of Esquimaux who may aid us."

"Besides," added Johnson, "may we not find in the sound some ship that has been forced to winter there."

"And if need be," continued the doctor, "when we've reached the sound, may we not cross it, and reach the west coast of Greenland, and then, either by Prudhoe's Land, or Cape York, get to some Danish settlement? Nothing of that sort is to be found on the ice-field. The way to England is down there to the south, and not here to the north!"

"Yes," said Bell, "Dr. Clawbonny is right; we must go, and go at once. Hitherto we have forgotten home too much, and those who are dear to us."

"Do you agree, Johnson?" Hatteras asked again.

"Yes, Captain."

"And you, Doctor?"

"Yes, Hatteras."

Hatteras still remained silent; in spite of all he could do, his face expressed his agitation. His whole life depended on the decision he should take; if he should return, it was all over with his bold plans; he could not hope to make the attempt a fourth time.

The doctor, seeing the captain was silent, again spoke.

"I ought to add, Hatteras," he said, "that we ought not to lose an instant; we ought to load the sledge with all our provisions, and take as much wood as possible. A journey of six hundred miles under such circumstances is long, I confess, but not insuperable; we can, or rather we ought, to make twenty miles a day, which would bring us to the coast in a month, that is to say, towards March 26th."

"But," said Hatteras, "can't we wait a few days?"

"What do you hope for?" answered Johnson.

"I don't know. Who can foretell the future? Only a few days yet! It's hardly enough to rest your wearied bodies. We couldn't go two stages without dropping from weariness, without any snow-house to shelter us!"

"But a terrible death certainly awaits us here!" cried Bell.

"My friends," continued Hatteras in a tone almost of entreaty, "you are despairing too soon! I should propose to seek safety to the north, were it not that you would refuse to follow me. And yet are there not Esquimaux near the Pole, as well as at Smith's Sound? That open sea, of which the existence is uncertain, ought to surround a continent. Nature is logical in everything it does. Well, we ought to believe that vegetation appears when the greatest cold ceases. Is there not a promised land awaiting us at the north, and which you want to fly from without hope of return?"

Hatteras warmed as he spoke; his heated imagination called up enchanting visions of these countries, whose existence was still so problematical.

"One more day," he repeated, "a single hour!"

Dr. Clawbonny, with his adventurous character and his glowing imagination, felt himself gradually aroused; he was about to yield; but Johnson, wiser and colder, recalled him to reason and duty.

"Come, Bell," he said, "to the sledge!"

"Come along!" answered Bell.

The two sailors turned towards the door of the snow-house.

"O Johnson! you! you!" shouted Hatteras. "Well, go! I shall stay!"

"Captain!" said Johnson, stopping in spite of himself.

"I shall stay, I say! Go! leave me like the rest! Go!—Come, Duke, we two shall stay!"

The brave dog joined his master, barking. Johnson looked at the doctor. He did not know what to do; the best plan was to calm Hatteras, and to sacrifice a day to his fancies. The doctor was about making up his mind to this effect, when he felt some one touch his arm.

He turned round. The American had just left the place where he had been lying; he was crawling on the floor; at last he rose to his knees, and from his swollen lips a few inarticulate sounds issued.

The doctor, astonished, almost frightened, gazed at him silently. Hatteras approached the American, and examined him closely. He tried to make out the words which the poor fellow could not pronounce. At last, after trying for five minutes, he managed to utter this word:—

"Porpoise."

"The Porpoise?" asked the captain.

The American bowed affirmatively.

"In these seas?" asked Hatteras with beating heart.

The same sign from the sick man.

"To the north?"

"Yes."

"And you know where it lies?"

"Yes."

"Exactly?"

There was a moment's silence. The bystanders were all excited.

"Now, listen carefully," said Hatteras to the sick man; "we must know where this ship lies. I am going to count the degrees aloud; you will stop me by a sign."

The American bowed his head to show that he understood.

"Come," said Hatteras, "we'll begin with the longitude. One hundred and five? No.—Hundred and six? Hundred and seven? Hundred and eight? Far to the west?"

"Yes," said the American.

"Let us go on. Hundred and nine? Ten? Eleven? Twelve? Fourteen? Sixteen? Eighteen? Nineteen? Twenty?"

"Yes," answered Altamont.

"Longitude one hundred and twenty?" said Hatteras. "And how many minutes? I shall count."

Hatteras began at number one. At fifteen Altamont made a sign for him to stop.

"All right!" said Hatteras. "Now for the latitude. You understand? Eighty? Eighty-one? Eighty-two? Eighty-three?"

The American stopped him with a gesture.

"Well! And the minutes? Five? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? Twenty-five? Thirty? Thirty-five?"

Another sign from Altamont, who smiled slightly.

"So," continued Hatteras, in a deep voice, "the Porpoise lies in longitude 120 degrees 15 minutes, and 83 degrees 35 minutes latitude?"

"Yes!" said the American, as he fell fainting into the doctor's arms. This exertion had exhausted him.



"My friends," cried Hatteras, "you see that safety lies to the north, always to the north! We shall be saved!"

But after these first words of joy, Hatteras seemed suddenly struck by a terrible thought. His expression changed, and he felt himself stung by the serpent of jealousy.

Some one else, an American, had got three degrees nearer the Pole! And for what purpose?



CHAPTER III. SEVENTEEN DAYS OF LAND JOURNEY.

This new incident, these first words which Altamont uttered, had completely altered the situation of the castaways; but just now they had been far from any possible aid, without a reasonable chance of reaching Baffin's Bay, threatened with starvation on a journey too long for their wearied bodies, and now, within four hundred miles from their snow-house, there was a ship which offered them bounteous supplies, and perhaps the means of continuing their bold course to the Pole. Hatteras, the doctor, Johnson, and Bell, all began to take heart after having been so near despair; they were nearly wild with joy.

But Altamont's account was still incomplete, and, after a few moments' repose, the doctor resumed his talk with him; he framed his questions in such a way that a simple sign of the head or a motion of the eyes would suffice for an answer.

Soon he made out that the Porpoise was an American bark from New York, that it had been caught in the ice with a large supply of food and fuel; and, although she lay on her beam-ends, she must have withstood the ice, and it would be possible to save her cargo.

Two months before, Altamont and the crew had abandoned her, carrying the launch upon a sledge; they wanted to get to Smith's Sound, find a whaling-vessel, and be carried in her to America; but gradually fatigue and disease had fallen upon them, and they fell aside on the way. At last only the captain and two sailors were left of a crew of thirty men, and Altamont's life was the result of what was really a miracle.

Hatteras wanted to find out from the American what he was doing in these high latitudes.

Altamont managed to make him understand that he had been caught in the ice and carried by it without possibility of resisting it.

Hatteras asked him anxiously for what purpose he was sailing.

Altamont gave them to understand that he had been trying the Northwest Passage.

Hatteras did not persist, and asked no other question of the sort.

The doctor then began to speak.

"Now," he said, "all our efforts should be directed to finding the Porpoise; instead of struggling to Baffin's Bay, we may, by means of a journey only two thirds as long, reach a ship which will offer us all the resources necessary for wintering."

"There's nothing more to be done," said Bell.

"I should add," said the boatswain, "that we should not lose a moment; we should calculate the length of our journey by the amount of our supplies, instead of the other and usual way, and be off as soon as possible."

"You are right, Johnson," said the doctor; "if we leave to-morrow, Tuesday, February 26th, we ought to reach the Porpoise March 15th, at the risk of starving to death. What do you think of that, Hatteras?"

"Let us make our preparations at once," said the captain, "and be off. Perhaps we shall find the way longer than we suppose."

"Why so?" asked the doctor. "This man seemed certain of the situation of his ship."

"But," answered Hatteras, "supposing the Porpoise has been drifting as the Forward did?"

"True," said the doctor, "that's not unlikely."

Johnson and Bell had nothing to urge against the possibility of a drift of which they had themselves been victims.

But Altamont, who was listening to the conversation, gave the doctor to understand that he wished to speak. After an effort of about a quarter of an hour, Clawbonny made out that the Porpoise was lying on a bed of rocks, and so could not have drifted away. This information calmed the anxiety of the Englishmen; still it deprived them of their hope of returning to Europe, unless Bell should be able to build a small boat out of the timbers of the Porpoise. However that might be, it was now of the utmost importance that they should reach the wreck.

The doctor put one more question to the American, namely, whether he had found an open sea at latitude 83 degrees.

"No," answered Altamont.

There the conversation stopped. They began at once to prepare for departure; Bell and Johnson first began to see about the sledge, which needed complete repairing. Since they had plenty of wood, they made the uprights stronger, availing themselves of the experience of their southern trip. They had learned the dangers of this mode of transport, and since they expected to find plenty of deep snow, the runners were made higher.

On the inside Bell made a sort of bed, covered with the canvas of the tent, for the American; the provisions, which were unfortunately scanty, would not materially augment the weight of the sledge, but still they made up for that by loading it with all the wood it could carry.

The doctor, as he packed all the provisions, made out a very careful list of their amount; he calculated that each man could have three quarters of a ration for a journey of three weeks. A whole ration was set aside for the four dogs which should draw it. If Duke aided them, he was to have a whole ration.



These preparations were interrupted by the need of sleep and rest, which they felt at seven o'clock in the evening; but before going to bed they gathered around the stove, which was well filled with fuel, and these poor men luxuriated in more warmth than they had enjoyed for a long time; some pemmican, a few biscuits, and several cups of coffee soon put them in good-humor, especially when their hopes had been so unexpectedly lighted up. At seven in the morning they resumed work, and finished it at three in the afternoon. It was already growing dark. Since January 31st the sun had appeared above the horizon, but it gave only a pale and brief light; fortunately the moon would rise at half past six, and with this clear sky it would make their path plain. The temperature, which had been growing lower for several days, fell at last to -33 degrees.

The time for leaving came. Altamont received the order with joy, although the jolting of the sledge would increase his sufferings; he told the doctor that medicine against the scurvy would be found on board of the Porpoise. He was carried to the sledge and placed there as comfortably as possible; the dogs, including Duke, were harnessed in; the travellers cast one last glance at the spot where the Forward had lain. A glow of rage passed over Hatteras's face, but he controlled it at once, and the little band set out with the air very dry at first, although soon a mist came over them.



Each one took his accustomed place, Bell ahead pointing out the way, the doctor and Johnson by the sides of the sledge, watching and lending their aid when it was necessary, and Hatteras behind, correcting the line of march.

They went along tolerably quickly; now that the temperature was so low, the ice was hard and smooth for travel; the five dogs easily drew the sledge, which weighed hardly more than nine hundred pounds. Still, men and beasts panted heavily, and often they had to stop to take breath.

Towards seven o'clock in the evening, the moon peered through mist on the horizon. Its rays threw out a light which was reflected from the ice; towards the northwest the ice-field looked like a perfectly smooth plain; not a hummock was to be seen. This part of the sea seemed to have frozen smooth like a lake.

It was an immense, monotonous desert.

Such was the impression that this spectacle made on the doctor's mind, and he spoke of it to his companion.

"You are right, Doctor," answered Johnson; "it is a desert, but we need not fear dying of thirst."

"A decided advantage," continued the doctor; "still, this immensity proves one thing to me, and that is that we are far distant from any land; in general, the proximity of land is indicated by a number of icebergs, and not one is to be seen near us."

"We can't see very far for the fog," said Johnson.

"Without doubt; but since we started we have crossed a smooth field of which we cannot see the end."

"Do you know, Doctor, it's a dangerous walk we are taking! We get used to it and don't think of it, but we are walking over fathomless depths."

"You are right, my friend, but we need not fear being swallowed; with such cold as this the ice is very strong. Besides, it has a constant tendency to get thicker, for snow falls nine days out of ten, even in April, May, and June, and I fancy it must be something like thirty or forty feet thick."

"That is a comfort," said Johnson.

"In fact, we are very much better off than those who skate on the Serpentine, and who are in constant dread of falling through; we have no such fear."

"Has the resistance of ice been calculated?" asked the old sailor, who was always seeking information from the doctor.

"Yes," the latter answered: "everything almost that can be measured is now known, except human ambition! and is it not that which is carrying us towards the North Pole? But to return to your question, my answer is this. Ice two inches thick will bear a man; three and a half inches thick, a horse and rider; five inches thick, an eight-pound cannon; eight inches, a fully harnessed artillery-piece; and ten inches, an army, any number of men! Where we are now, the Liverpool Custom House or the Halls of Parliament in London could be built."

"One can hardly imagine such strength," said Johnson; "but just now, Doctor, you spoke of snow falling nine days out of ten; that is true, but where does all the snow come from? The sea is all frozen, and I don't see how the vapor can rise to form the clouds."

"A very keen observation, Johnson; but, in my opinion, the greatest part of the snow or rain which we receive in the polar regions is formed from the water of the seas in the temperate zones. One flake arose into the air under the form of vapor from some river in Europe, it helped make a cloud, and finally came here to be condensed; it is not impossible that we who drink it may be quenching our thirst at the rivers of our own country."

"That is true," answered Johnson.

At that moment Hatteras's voice was heard directing their steps and interrupting their conversation. The fog was growing thicker, and making a straight line hard to follow.

Finally the little band halted at about eight o'clock in the evening, after walking nearly fifteen miles; the weather was dry; the tent was raised, the fire lighted, supper cooked, and all rested peacefully.

Hatteras and his companions were really favored by the weather. The following days brought no new difficulties, although the cold became extremely severe and the mercury remained frozen in the thermometer. If the wind had risen, no one could have withstood the temperature. The doctor was able to corroborate Parry's observations, which he made during his journey to Melville Island; he said that a man comfortably dressed could walk safely in the open air exposed to great cold, if the air were only calm; but as soon as the slightest wind arose, a sharp pain was felt in the face, and an extreme headache which is soon followed by death. The doctor was very anxious, for a slight wind would have frozen the marrow in their bones.

March 5th he observed a phenomenon peculiar to these latitudes: the sky was clear and thick with stars, and thick snow began to fall without any cloud being visible; the constellations shone through the flakes which fell regularly on the ice-field. This went on for about two hours, and stopped before the doctor had found a satisfactory explanation of its fall.

The last quarter of the moon had then disappeared; total darkness reigned for seventeen hours out of the twenty-four; the travellers had to tie themselves together by a long cord, to avoid being separated; it was almost impossible for them to go in a straight line.

Still, these bold men, although animated by an iron will, began to grow weary; their halts were more frequent, and yet they ought not to lose an hour, for their supplies were rapidly diminishing. Hatteras would often ascertain their position by observation of the moon and stars. As he saw the days pass by and the destination appear as remote as before, he would ask himself sometimes if the Porpoise really existed, whether the American's brain might not have been deranged by his sufferings, or whether, through hate of the English, and seeing himself without resources, he did not wish to drag them with him to certain death.

He expressed his fears to the doctor, who discouraged them greatly, but he readily understood the lamentable rivalry which existed between the American and English captains.

"They are two men whom it will be hard to make agree," he said to himself.

March 14th, after journeying for sixteen days, they had only reached latitude 82 degrees; their strength was exhausted, and they were still a hundred miles from the ship; to add to their sufferings, they had to bring the men down to a quarter-ration, in order to give the dogs their full supply.

They could not depend on their shooting for food, for they had left only seven charges of powder and six balls; they had in vain fired at some white hares and foxes, which besides were very rare. None had been hit.

Nevertheless, on the 18th, the doctor was fortunate enough to find a seal lying on the ice; he wounded him with several balls; the animal, not being able to escape through his hole in the ice, was soon slain. He was of very good size. Johnson cut him up skilfully, but he was so very thin that he was of but little use to the men, who could not make up their minds to drink his oil, like the Esquimaux. Still the doctor boldly tried to drink the slimy fluid, but he could not do it. He preserved the skin of the animal, for no special reason, by a sort of hunter's instinct, and placed it on the sledge.



The next day, the 16th, they saw a few icebergs on the horizon. Was it a sign of a neighboring shore, or simply a disturbance of the ice? It was hard to say.

When they had reached one of these hummocks, they dug in it with a snow-knife a more comfortable retreat than that afforded by the tent, and after three hours of exertion they were able to rest about their glowing stove.



CHAPTER IV. THE LAST CHARGE OF POWDER.

Johnson had admitted the tired dogs into the snow-house; when the snow is falling heavily it serves as a covering to the animals, preserving their natural heat. But in the open air, with a temperature of -40 degrees, they would soon have frozen to death.

Johnson, who made an excellent dog-driver, tried feeding the dogs with the dark flesh of the seals which the travellers could not swallow, and to his great surprise they made a rich feast out of it; the old sailor in his delight told the doctor. He, however, was not in the least surprised; he knew that in the north of America the horses make fish their main article of food, and what a herbivorous horse could content himself with would certainly satisfy an omnivorous dog.

Before going to rest, although sleep became an imperious necessity for men who had walked fifteen miles on the ice, the doctor wished to have a few serious words with his companions about the dangers of their situation.

"We are only at latitude 82 degrees," he said, "and our supplies are already running short."

"A reason for losing no time," answered Hatteras; "we must push on; the strong can draw the feeble."

"Shall we find a ship when we get there?" asked Bell, who was much depressed by the fatigue of the journey.

"Why doubt it?" said Johnson; "the American's safety depends on ours."

To make sure, the doctor was anxious to question Altamont again. He could speak easily, although his voice was weak; he confirmed all the statements he had already made; he repeated that the ship was aground on some granite rocks, where it could not stir, and that it lay in longitude 120 degrees 15 minutes, and latitude 83 degrees 35 minutes.

"We can't doubt this statement," resumed the doctor; "the difficulty is not whether the Porpoise is there, but the way of getting to her."

"How much food have we left?" asked Hatteras.

"Enough for three days at the outside," answered the doctor.

"Well, we must get to her in three days," said the captain, firmly.

"We must indeed," continued the doctor, "and if we succeed we shall have no need to complain, for we shall have been favored by faultless weather; the snow has given us a fortnight's respite, and the sledge has glided easily on the hardened ice! Ah, if it only carried two hundred pounds of food! Our dogs could have managed it easily enough. But still we can't help it!"

"With luck and skill," said Johnson, "we might put to some use the few charges of powder which are left us. If we should kill a bear we should be supplied for all the rest of the journey."

"Without doubt," answered the doctor, "but these animals are rare and shy; and then, when one thinks of the importance of a shot, his hand will shake and his aim be lost."

"But you are a good shot," answered Bell.

"Yes, when four men's dinners do not depend on my hitting; still, I will do my best if I get a chance. Meanwhile let us try to satisfy ourselves with this thin soup of scraps of pemmican, then go to sleep, and to-morrow early we'll start forth again."

A few moments later excessive fatigue outweighed every other feeling, and they all sank into a heavy sleep. Early on Saturday Johnson awoke his companions; the dogs were harnessed to the sledge, and they took up again their journey northward.

The heavens were magnificent, the air was very clear, the temperature very low; when the sun appeared above the horizon it appeared like an elongated ellipse; its horizontal diameter appeared, in consequence of refraction, to be double its vertical diameter. It sent forth its clear, cold rays over the vast icy plain. This return to light, if not to heat, rejoiced them all.



The doctor, gun in hand, walked off for a mile or two, braving the cold and solitude; before going he measured the supply carefully; only four charges of powder were left, and three balls; that was a small supply when one remembers that a strong animal like the polar bear often falls only after receiving ten or twelve shots. Hence the doctor did not go in search of so fierce game; a few hares or two or three foxes would have satisfied him and given him plenty of provisions. But during that day, if he saw one, or could not approach one, or if he were deceived by refraction, he would lose his shot; and this day, as it was, cost him a charge of powder and a ball. His companions, who trembled with hope at the report of his gun, saw him returning with downcast looks; they did not say anything; that evening they went to sleep as usual, after putting aside two quarter-rations reserved for the two following days. The next day their journey seemed more laborious; they hardly walked, they rather dragged along; the dogs had eaten even the entrails of the seal, and they were beginning to gnaw their harness.

A few foxes passed at some distance from the sledge, and the doctor, having missed another shot as he chased them, did not dare to risk his last ball and his last charge save one of powder.

That evening they halted early, unable to set one foot before the other, and, although their way was lighted by a brilliant aurora, they could not go on. This last meal, eaten Sunday evening under their icy tent, was very melancholy. If Heaven did not come to their aid, they were lost. Hatteras did not speak, Bell did not even think, Johnson reflected in silence, but the doctor did not yet despair.

Johnson thought of setting some traps that night; but since he had no bait, he had very little hope of success, and in the morning he found, as he expected, that, although a great many foxes had left their marks around, yet not one had been caught. He was returning much disappointed, when he saw an enormous bear sniffing the air at about thirty yards from the sledge. The old sailor thought Providence had sent this animal to him to be slain; without awakening his companions he seized the doctor's gun and made his way towards the bear.

Having got quite near he took aim, but just as he was about to pull the trigger he felt his arm trembling; his large fur gloves were in his way; he took them off quickly, and seized his gun with a firmer hand. Suddenly, a cry of pain escaped him; the skin of his fingers, burned by the cold of the gun-barrel, remained clinging to it, while the gun fell to the ground, and went off from the shock, sending the last ball off into space. At the sound of the report the doctor ran; he understood everything at a glance; he saw the animal trot quickly away; Johnson was in despair, and thought no more of the pain.



"I'm as tender as a baby," he cried, "not to be able to endure that pain! And an old man like me!"

"Come back, Johnson," the doctor said to him, "you'll get frozen; see, your hands are white already; come back, come!"

"I don't deserve your attentions, Doctor," answered the boatswain; "leave me!"

"Come along, you obstinate fellow! Come along! It will soon be too late!"

And the doctor, dragging the old sailor under the tent, made him plunge his hands into a bowl of water, which the heat of the stove had kept liquid, although it was not much above the freezing-point; but Johnson's hands had no sooner touched it than it froze at once.

"You see," said the doctor, "it was time to come back, otherwise I should have had to amputate your hands."