"And why?" asked Altamont.

"Because we should get nearer to Lancaster Sound, and have more chance of meeting whalers."

"You are right, Doctor, but I am afraid the ice is not yet hard enough."

"We can try," said Clawbonny.

The launch was unloaded; Bell and Johnson put the sledge together; all its parts were in good condition. The next day the dogs were harnessed in, and they went along the coast to reach the ice-field.

Then they began again the journey which has been so often described; it was tiresome and slow; Altamont was right in doubting the strength of the ice; they could not go through Jones's Sound, and they had to follow the coast of Lincoln.

August 21st they turned to one side and reached the entrance of Glacier Sound; then they ventured upon the ice-field, and the next day they reached Cobourg Island, which they crossed in less than two days amid snow-squalls. They could advance more easily on the ice-fields, and at last, August 24th, they set foot on North Devon.

"Now," said the doctor, "we have only to cross this, and reach Cape Warender, at the entrance of Lancaster Sound."

But the weather became very cold and unpleasant; the snow-squalls became as violent as in winter; they all found themselves nearly exhausted. Their provisions were giving out, and each man had but a third of a ration, in order to allow to the dogs enough food in proportion to their work.

The nature of the ground added much to the fatigue of the journey; North Devon was far from level; they had to cross the Trauter Mountains by almost impassable ravines, struggling against all the fury of the elements. The sledge, men, and dogs had to rest, and more than once despair seized the little band, hardened as it was to the fatigues of a polar journey. But, without their noticing it, these poor men were nearly worn out, physically and morally; they could not support such incessant fatigue for eighteen months with impunity, nor such a succession of hopes and despairs. Besides, it should be borne in mind that they went forward with enthusiasm and conviction, which they lacked when returning. So they with difficulty dragged on; they walked almost from habit, with the animal energy left almost independent of their will.

It was not until August 30th that they at last left the chaos of mountains, of which one can form no idea from the mountains of lower zones, but they left it half dead. The doctor could no longer cheer up his companions, and he felt himself breaking down. The Trauter Mountains ended in a sort of rugged plain, heaped up at the time of the formation of the mountains. There they were compelled to take a few days of rest; the men could not set one foot before another; two of the dogs had died of exhaustion. They sheltered themselves behind a piece of ice, at a temperature of -2 degrees; no one dared put up the tent. Their food had become very scanty, and, in spite of their extreme economy with their rations, they had a supply for but a week more; game became rarer, having left for a milder climate. Starvation threatened these exhausted men.



Altamont, who all along had shown great devotion and unselfishness, took advantage of the strength he had left, and resolved to procure by hunting some food for his companions. He took his gun, called Duke, and strode off for the plains to the north; the doctor, Johnson, and Bell saw him go away without much interest. For an hour they did not once hear his gun, and they saw him returning without firing a single shot; but he was running as if in great alarm.

"What is the matter?" asked the doctor.

"There! under the snow!" answered Altamont in great alarm, indicating a point in the horizon.

"What?"

"A whole band of men—"

"Alive?"

"Dead,—frozen,—and even—"



The American durst not finish his sentence, but his face expressed clearly his horror. The doctor, Johnson, Bell, aroused by this incident, were able to rise, and drag themselves along in Altamont's footprints to the part of the plain to which he had pointed. They soon reached a narrow space, at the bottom of a deep ravine, and there a terrible sight met their eyes.

Bodies were lying half buried beneath the snow; here an arm, there a leg, or clinched hands, and faces still preserving an expression of despair.

The doctor drew near; then he stepped back, pale and agitated, while Duke barked mournfully.

"Horror!" he said.

"Well?" asked the boatswain.

"Didn't you recognize them?" said the doctor in a strange voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Look!"

This ravine had been the scene of the last struggle between the men and the climate, despair, and hunger, for from some horrible signs it was easy to see that they had been obliged to eat human flesh. Among them the doctor had recognized Shandon, Pen, and the wretched crew of the Forward; their strength and food had failed them; their launch had probably been crushed by an avalanche, or carried into some ravine, and they could not take to the open sea; probably they were lost among these unknown continents. Besides, men who had left in mutiny could not long be united with the closeness which is necessary for the accomplishment of great things. A ringleader of a revolt has never more than a doubtful authority in his hands. And, without doubt, Shandon was promptly deposed.

However that may have been, the crew had evidently undergone a thousand tortures, a thousand despairs, to end with this terrible catastrophe; but the secret of their sufferings is forever buried beneath the arctic snows.

"Let us flee!" cried the doctor.

And he dragged his companions far from the scene of the disaster. Horror lent them momentary strength. They set out again.



CHAPTER XXVII. CONCLUSION.

Why linger over the perpetual sufferings of the survivors? They themselves could never recall to their memory a clear vision of what had happened in the week after their horrible discovery of the remains of the crew. However, September 9th, by a miracle of energy, they reached Cape Horsburgh, at the end of North Devon.

They were dying of hunger; they had not eaten for forty-eight hours, and their last meal had been the flesh of their last Esquimaux dog. Bell could go no farther, and old Johnson felt ready to die. They were on the shore of Baffin's Bay, on the way to Europe. Three miles from land the waves were breaking on the edges of the ice-field. They had to await the uncertain passage of a whaler, and how many days yet?

But Heaven took pity on them, for the next day Altamont clearly saw a sail. The anguish which follows such an appearance of a sail, the tortures of disappointment, are well known. The ship seemed to approach and then to recede. Terrible are the alternations of hope and despair, and too often at the moment the castaways consider themselves saved the sail sinks beneath the horizon.



The doctor and his companions went through all these emotions; they had reached the western limit of the ice-field, and yet they saw the ship disappear, taking no note of their presence. They shouted, but in vain.

Then the doctor had a last inspiration of that busy mind which had served him in such good stead.

A floe had drifted against the ice-field.

"That floe!" he said, pointing to it.

They did not catch his meaning.

"Let us get on it!" he cried.

They saw his plan at once.

"Ah, Clawbonny, Dr. Clawbonny!" cried Johnson, kissing the doctor's hands.

Bell, with Altamont's aid, ran to the sledge; he brought one of the uprights, stood it up on the floe for a mast, making it fast with ropes; the tent was torn up for a sail. The wind was fair; the poor castaways put out to sea on this frail raft.

Two hours later, after unheard-of efforts, the last men of the Forward were taken aboard the Danish whaler Hans Christian, which was sailing to Davis Strait. The captain received kindly these spectres who had lost their semblance to human beings; when he saw their sufferings he understood their history; he gave them every attention, and managed to save their lives. Ten days later, Clawbonny, Johnson, Bell, Altamont, and Captain Hatteras landed at Korsoeur, in Zeeland, in Denmark; a steamboat carried them to Kiel; thence, via Altona and Hamburg, they reached London the 13th of the same month, hardly recovered from their long sufferings.



The first thought of the doctor was to ask permission of the Royal Geographical Society of London to lay a communication before it; he was admitted to the meeting of July 15th. The astonishment of the learned assembly, and its enthusiastic cheers after reading Hatteras's document, may be imagined.

This journey, the only one of its kind, went over all the discoveries that had been made in the regions about the Pole; it brought together the expeditions of Parry, Ross, Franklin, MacClure; it completed the chart between the one hundredth and one hundred and fifteenth meridians; and, finally, it ended with the point of the globe hitherto inaccessible, with the Pole itself.

Never had news so unexpected burst upon astonished England.

The English take great interest in geographical facts; they are proud of them, lord and cockney, from the merchant prince to the workman in the docks.

The news of this great discovery was telegraphed over the United Kingdom with great rapidity; the papers printed the name of Hatteras at the head of their columns as that of a martyr, and England glowed with pride.

The doctor and his companions were feasted everywhere; they were formally presented to her Majesty by the Lord High Chancellor.

The government confirmed the name of Queen's Island for the rock at the North Pole, of Mount Hatteras for the mountain itself, and of Altamont Harbor for the port in New America.

Altamont did not part from those whose misery and glory he had shared, and who were now his friends. He followed the doctor, Johnson, and Bell to Liverpool, where they were warmly received, after they had been thought to be long dead, and buried in the eternal ice.

But Dr. Clawbonny always gave the glory to the man who most deserved it. In his account of the journey entitled "The English at the North Pole," published the next year by the Royal Geographical Society, he made John Hatteras equal to the greatest explorers, the rival of those bold men who sacrifice everything to science.

But the sad victim of a lofty passion lived peacefully at the asylum of Starr Cottage near Liverpool, where the doctor had placed him. His madness was of a gentle kind, but he never spoke, he understood nothing, his power of speech seemed to have gone with his reason. A single feeling seemed to unite him to the outer world, his love for Duke, who was not separated from him.

This disease, this "polar madness," pursued its course quietly, presenting no particular symptom, when Dr. Clawbonny, who often visited his poor patient, was struck by his singular manner.

For some time Captain Hatteras, followed by his faithful dog, that used to gaze at him sadly, would walk for hours every day; but he always walked in one way, in the direction of a certain path. When he had reached the end, he would return, walking backwards. If any one stopped him, he would point his finger at a portion of the sky. If any one tried to make him turn round, he grew angry, and Duke would show his anger and bark furiously.

The doctor observed carefully this odd mania; he understood the motive of this strange obstinacy; he guessed the reason of this walk always in the same direction, and, so to speak, under the influence of a magnetic force.

Captain John Hatteras was always walking towards the north.

FINIS.



University Press, Cambridge: Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.



Transcriber's notes on inconsistencies, errors and corrections.

Table of Contents: Part II., Chapter X., "The Pleasure of Winter-Quarters" is corrected to "The Pleasures of Winter-Quarters" to match the chapter title.

Part I.

Chapter 2: The letter says the large Danish dog will arrive on the 15th of February. In chapter 3 the dog arrives on the 15th of March "as the captain's letter had said." Other versions have the same inconsistency.

Chapter 5: In the discussion of steamers, the doctor observes of the Fox that MacClintock "succeeded in making his way more easily and more directly than all his successors." Other translations say "predecessors" which makes more sense.

Chapter 5: On April 14 the longitude given is 22 degrees 37 minutes. Other versions give 22 degrees 58 minutes. Other versions agree that the latitude is 51 degrees—which hardly seems possible for a ship leaving Ireland at nearly 56 degrees latitude and sailing northwest. 57 degrees seems more likely. A few days later the latitude is further confused during the discussion of iceberg sightings. The doctor states that they are two degrees further north than a sighting of icebergs occurring at 42 degrees latitude, apparently confusing the Forward's latitude with that of the Ann Poole.

Chapter 6: In the remembrance of Parry's expedition into Lancaster Sound, mention is made of the prize for crossing a meridian at higher than the seventy-seventh parallel. Here the specific meridian is left out, which is not very informative. In the French version, it is the 170th meridian, which is clearly wrong. The Ward and Lock translation changes it to the 117th meridian. Historically, the prize was for the 110th meridian.

Chapter 8: On Saturday, the temperature is stated to have fallen to 8 degrees above zero. The French and Routledge translation state 8 degrees below zero. This makes more sense since the previous temperature cited, from which it had fallen, was 6 degrees above zero.

Chapter 8: The block of ice which turns upside down is stated to be 800 feet high. This appears to be a mistranslation of the French; other translations have it as at least a hundred feet high.

Chapter 9: According to this translation, the Forward crosses the 62nd parallel on May 5. This is clearly incorrect since the ship is north of its May 1 latitude of 68 degrees. Other versions have this as the 72nd parallel. This agrees with the accompanying map.

Chapter 10: Although "the Governor was born on the island of Disco, and he has never left the place," the landing party meets him at Upernavik which is well north of the island of Disco.

Chapter 12: The captain declares their latitude to be at 72 degrees when they are actually at 74 degrees. The promise of 1000 pounds for each degree beyond 72 is continued throughout the book.

Chapter 12: Names of several English explorers have been garbled in this translation:

"Stuart" = Charles Sturt "McDougall Stuart" = John McDouall Stuart "Wells" = William John Wills "Havnoan" = ??—Haouran (French version) is a place in Syria.

Chapter 15: "During the day two whalers were seen making toward the south;" should be "During the day two whales were seen" etc. to agree with other translations and the French version. Finding whalers in this area would contradict the spirit of the adventure.

Chapter 16: "the barometer fell to 29 degrees" should be "the barometer fell to 29 inches" to agree with the French version and the measurement scale of barometers.

Chapter 16: "Friday, June 7th" should be "Friday, June 8th" to agree with the French version and the timing since the previous date of June 6.

Chapter 16: "found a declination of only 89 degrees 50 minutes," should be "89 degrees 59 minutes'" to agree with other translations and the French version and to make sense of the following statement of being within a minute of the magnetic pole.

Chapter 18: "'The way west is easier than the way north.'" agrees with the French, but has been changed to "'The way east'" in other translations. Baffin's Bay is, in fact, east of Melville Bay.

Chapter 18: Clifton's counting of the crew at sixteen is faulty since Garry turned into Hatteras and would no longer be counted. The per degree rate should be 62 pounds not 72 pounds to agree with all other versions and actual calculation.

Chapter 18: On June 19th, Point Minto is said by all versions to be at 72 degrees latitude. It is actually at 73 degrees. The next paragraph immediately proceeds to 74 degrees latitude at Melville Bay.

Chapter 20: Creswell's march to Beechey Island was 470 miles in the French version and in later discussions in Part II, Chapter 15.

Chapter 21: The year of Lieutenant Bellot's first expedition in search of Franklin is corrected from "18 0" to "1850."

Chapter 23: The large white masses gathering "indicated an approaching thaw" is translated in another version as "an approaching frost" which agrees with the French version and makes more sense.

Chapter 25: Clifton's anticipated fortune is said to be "hardly-earned" when "hard-earned" would be more appropriate.

Chapter 29: The temperature on January 15 of -22 should be -32 degrees to agree with the French version and the other translations.

Chapter 31: The doctor's ophthalmia should not lead to "deafness" but to "blindness" as in other translations.

Chapter 33: In the final sentence of the chapter the latitude of the Forward should be "eightieth degree" not "eighty-fourth degree." Eighty-fourth is clearly wrong since in chapter 2 of part II, their latitude is stated as eighty degrees fifteen minutes.

Part II.

Chapter 1: The count of "eighteen men who had sailed in the brig" continues to ignore that there were only seventeen men and that Hatteras and Garry are one and the same person.

Chapter 2: Johnson's question, "how far are we from the nearest sea to the west?" should be "how far are we from the nearest sea to the east?" The disorientation continues with Bell's suggestion to travel south or west. Baffin's Bay, the only place they can hope for rescue is south and east of their current position.

Chapter 3: The date of the day the doctor killed the seal is stated as the 18th and should be the 15th. The date mentioned two paragraphs previously was the 14th, and the date mentioned as the next day in the next paragraph is the 16th.

Chapter 5: "Hatteras loaded the gun with the last charge of powder" should be "the doctor loaded the gun with the last charge of powder" to agree with the French and the sense of the paragraph.

Chapter 5: Altamont comments that his ship is less than four degrees from the Pole when it actually is not, but is within seven degrees.

Chapter 9: The author's intention for the outside temperature here is uncertain. The -31 degrees of this translation does not agree with the French in which it is -73 degrees (-31 degrees Centigrade). The latter two are not equivalent temperatures. Later in this chapter it is stated that the outside temperature can never exist lower than -72 degrees. If the author intended -31 degrees Centigrade, this would convert to -24 degrees Fahrenheit.

Chapter 9: "The temperature of Englishmen is generally 101 degrees" is a incorrect conversion of the more accurate 37 degrees Celsius in the French version. The correct temperature should be 98.6 degrees.

Chapter 9: The mention of "Hadley" concerning a comet collision should be "Halley" as in the French version.

Chapter 19: "Uredo vivalis" should be "Uredo nivalis" as in the French version.

Chapter 20: In this translation as in the French version, Altamont Harbor is said to be at longitude 118 degrees 35 minutes E. of Greenwich, whereas it should be W. of Greenwich.

Chapter 22: The spelling of the name "Penn" is corrected to "Pen" as a typographical error.

Chapter 23: "With a scrap of wood to hold him up," should be "without a scrap of wood to hold him up," as found in the French version and required by the sense of the sentence.

Chapter 23: The doctor "uttered an explanation which it is impossible to render," should be "uttered an exclamation which it is impossible to render," as found in the French version and required by the sense of the sentence.

Chapter 24: The doctors comparison "it would take seventy-five moons to make the sun," should be "it would take seventy-five moons to make the earth," as in the French version.

Chapter 24: The motion of the Pole "describes a circle in about twenty-six years" should be "describes a circle in about twenty-six thousand years" as in the French version.

Chapter 26: "The American durst not not finish his sentence," is corrected to "The American durst not finish his sentence," as a typographical error.

Chapter 26: The spelling of the name "Penn" is corrected to "Pen" as a typographical error.

Chapter 27: The timeline of the concluding chapter is odd. September 9, 1861 the party is at the end of North Devon. The next day (September 10) they are picked up by the Danish whaler. Ten days later (September 20) they arrive in Denmark. The 13th of the same month (September 13? October 13?) they reach London. July 15 (1862?) Clawbonny attends the Royal Geographical Society of London meeting. For this to astonish the learned assembly it would need to be two days after their arrival in London rather than 9 months.