A Book of Discovery Part 31

on the hard ground, brought the party to the first stage of their journey. Snow was now beginning to fall, and ice was thick on the rivers, when Franklin resolved to push on to Lake Athabasca that he might have more time to prepare for the coming voyage in the summer. Leaving Richardson and Hood at the fort, he started off with Back and the faithful Hepburn on 18th January 1820, in the very heart of the Arctic winter. Friends at the fort had provided him with Indian snowshoes turned up at the toes like the prow of a boat--with dog sledges, furs, leather trousers, drivers, and food for a fortnight. The snow was very deep, and the dogs found great difficulty in dragging their heavy burdens through the snow. But the record was good. A distance of eight hundred and fifty-seven miles was accomplished in sixty-eight days, with the thermometer at fifty degrees below zero. The hards.h.i.+ps endured are very briefly recorded: "Provisions becoming scarce; dogs without food, except a little burnt leather; night miserably cold; tea froze in the tin pots before we could drink it."

Lake Athabasca was reached on the 26th of March and preparations for the voyage were pushed forward. Four months later they were joined by Richardson and Hood. "This morning Mr. Back and I had the sincere gratification of welcoming our long-separated friends, Dr. Richardson and Mr. Hood, who arrived in perfect health with two canoes." This is the simple entry in Franklin's journal.

Everything was now ready. Spring in these northern climates was enchanting. "The trees quickly put on their leaves after the long, hard winter months, and the whole vegetable world comes forth with a luxuriance no less astonis.h.i.+ng than agreeable." At the same time clouds of mosquitoes and stinging sand-flies made the nights horrible.

On 18th July the little party in high glee set forward in canoes rowed by Canadian boatmen, hoping to reach the Copper Mine River before winter set in. But the difficulties of the way were great, provisions were scarce, the boatmen grew discontented, ice appeared early, and Franklin had to satisfy himself with wintering at a point five hundred and fifty miles from Lake Athabasca, which he called Fort Enterprise.

Here there was prospect of plenty, for large herds of reindeer were grazing along the sh.o.r.es of the lake, and from their flesh "pemmican"

was made; but the winter was long and cheerless, and Franklin soon realised that there was not enough food to last through it. So he dispatched the mids.h.i.+pman Back to Lake Athabasca for help. Back's journey was truly splendid, and we cannot omit his simple summary: "On the 17th of March," he says, "at an early hour we arrived at Fort Enterprise, having travelled about eighteen miles a day. I had the pleasure of meeting my friends all in good health, after an absence of nearly five months, during which time I had travelled one thousand one hundred and four miles on snow-shoes and had no other covering at night than a blanket and deer skin, with the thermometer frequently at forty degrees below zero, and sometimes two or three days without tasting food." By his courage and endurance he saved the whole party at Fort Enterprise. By June the spring was sufficiently advanced to set out for the Copper Mine River, and on July they reached the mouth after a tedious journey of three hundred and thirty-four miles.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A WINTER VIEW OF FORT ENTERPRISE. From a drawing, by Wm. Back, in Franklin's _Journey to the Polar Sea_, 1823.]

The real work of exploration was now to begin, and the party embarked in two canoes to sail along the southern coast of the Polar sea, with the possibility always of meeting the Parry expedition. But the poor Canadian boatmen were terrified at the sight of the sea on which they had never yet sailed, and they were with difficulty persuaded to embark.

Indeed, of the two crews, only the five Englishmen had ever been on the sea, and it has been well said that this voyage along the sh.o.r.es of the rock-bound coast of the Arctic sea must always take rank as one of the most daring and hazardous exploits that have ever been accomplished in the interest of geographical research. The two canoes hugged the icy coast as they made their way eastward, and Franklin named the bays, headlands, and islands for a distance of five hundred and fifty-five miles, where a point he called Cape Turnagain marks his farthest limit east. Here is George IV. Coronation Gulf studded with islands, Hood's River, Back's River, Bathurst's Inlet, named after the Secretary of State, and Parry Bay after "my friend, Captain Parry, now employed in the interesting research for a North-West Pa.s.sage."

[Ill.u.s.tration: FRANKLIN'S EXPEDITION TO THE POLAR SEA ON THE ICE. From a drawing, by Wm. Back, in Franklin's _Journey to the Polar Sea_, 1823.]

The short season for exploration was now over; rough weather and want of food turned them home, only half satisfied with their work. The worst part of their journey was yet to come. Perhaps never, even in the tragic history of Arctic exploration, had greater hards.h.i.+ps been endured than Franklin and his handful of men were to endure on their homeward way. On 22nd August the party left Point Turnagain, hoping by means of their newly discovered Hood River to reach Fort Enterprise.

The ground was already covered with snow, and their food was reduced to one meal a day when they left the sh.o.r.es of the Arctic sea for their long inland tramp. Needless to say, the journey had to be performed on foot, and the way was stony and barren. For the first few days nothing was to be found save lichen to eat, and the temperature was far below freezing-point. An uncooked cow after six days of lichen "infused spirit into our starving party," relates Franklin. But things grew no better, and as they proceeded sadly on their way, starvation stared them in the face. One day we hear of the pangs of hunger being stilled by "pieces of singed hide mixed with lichen"; another time the horns and bones of a dead deer were fried with some old shoes and the "putrid carcase of a deer that had died the previous spring was demolished by the starving men."

At last things grew so bad that Franklin and the most vigorous of his party pushed on to Fort Enterprise to get and send back food if possible to Richardson and Hood, who were now almost too weak and ill to get along at all. Bitter disappointment awaited them.

"At length," says Franklin, "we reached Fort Enterprise, and to our infinite disappointment and grief found it a perfectly desolate habitation. There were no provisions--no Indians. It would be impossible for me to describe our sensations after entering this miserable abode and discovering how we had been neglected; the whole party shed tears, not so much for our own fate as for that of our friends in the rear, whose lives depended entirely on our sending immediate relief from this place." A few old bones and skins of reindeer were collected for supper and the worn-out explorers sat round a fire made by pulling up the flooring of the rooms. It is hardly a matter of surprise to find the following entry in Franklin's journal: "When I arose the following morning my body and limbs were so swollen that I was unable to walk more than a few yards."

Before November arrived another tragedy happened. Hood was murdered by one of the party almost mad with hunger and misery. One after another now dropped down and died, and death seemed to be claiming Franklin, Richardson, Back, and Hepburn when three Indians made their appearance with some dried deer and a few tongues. It was not a moment too soon.

The Indians soon got game and fish for the starving men, until they were sufficiently restored to leave Fort Enterprise and make their way to Moose Deer Island, where, with the Hudson Bay officers, they spent the winter recovering their health and strength and spirits.

When they returned to England in the summer of 1822 they had accomplished five thousand five hundred and fifty miles. They had also endured hards.h.i.+ps unsurpa.s.sed in the history of exploration. When Parry returned to England the following summer and heard of Franklin's sufferings he cried like a child. He must have realised better than any one else what those sufferings really were, though he himself had fared better.

While Franklin had been making his way to the Copper Mine River, Parry on board the _Fury_, accompanied by the _Hecla_, started for Hudson's Strait, by which he was to penetrate to the Pacific, if possible. Owing to bad weather, the expedition did not arrive amid the icebergs till the middle of June. Towering two hundred feet high, the explorers counted fifty-four at one time before they arrived at Resolution Island at the mouth of Hudson Strait. There were already plenty of well-known landmarks in the region of Hudson's Bay, and Parry soon made his way to Southampton Island and Frozen Strait (over which an angry discussion had taken place some hundred years before). He was rewarded by discovering "a magnificent bay," to which he gave the name of the "Duke of York's Bay." The discovery, however, was one of little importance as there was no pa.s.sage. The winter was fast advancing, the navigable season was nearly over, and the explorers seemed to be only at the beginning of their work. The voyage had been dangerous, hara.s.sing, unproductive.

They had advanced towards the Behring Strait; they had discovered two hundred leagues of North American coast, and they now prepared to spend the winter in these icebound regions. As usual Parry arranged both for the health and amus.e.m.e.nt of his men during the long Arctic months--even producing a "joint of English roast beef" for Christmas dinner, preserved "by rubbing the outside with salt and hanging it on deck covered with canvas." There were also Eskimos in the neighbourhood, who proved a never-ceasing source of interest.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AN ESKIMO WATCHING A SEAL HOLE. From a drawing in Parry's _Second Voyage for a North-West Pa.s.sage_, 1824.]

One day in April--snow had been falling all night, news spread that the Eskimos "had killed something on the ice." "If the women," says Parry, "were cheerful before, they were now absolutely frantic. A general shout of joy re-echoed through the village; they ran into each others' huts to communicate the welcome intelligence, and actually hugged one another in an ecstasy of delight. When the first burst of joy had at last subsided the women crept one by one into the apartment where the sea-horses had been conveyed. Here they obtained blubber enough to set all their lamps alight, besides a few sc.r.a.ps of meat for their children and themselves. Fresh cargoes were continually arriving, the princ.i.p.al part being brought in by the dogs and the rest by the men, who tied a thong round their waist and dragged in a portion.

Every lamp was now swimming with oil, the huts exhibited a blaze of light, and never was there a scene of more joyous festivity than while the cutting up of the walruses continued." For three solid hours the Eskimos appeared to be eating walrus flesh. "Indeed, the quant.i.ty they continued to get rid of is almost beyond belief."

It was not till early in July that the s.h.i.+p could be moved out of their winter's dock to renew their efforts towards a pa.s.sage. They were not a little helped by Eskimo charts, but old ice blocked the way, and it was the middle of August before Parry discovered the Strait he called after his two s.h.i.+ps, "the Strait of the Fury and Hecla," between Melville Peninsula and c.o.c.kburn Island. Confident that the narrow channel led to the Polar seas, Parry pushed on till "our progress was once more opposed by a barrier of the same impenetrable and hopeless ice as before." He organised land expeditions, and reports, "The opening of the Strait into the Polar sea was now so decided that I considered the princ.i.p.al object of my journey accomplished."

September had come, and once more the s.h.i.+ps were established in their winter quarters. A second month in among the ice must have been a severe trial to this little band of English explorers, but cheerfully enough they built a wall of snow twelve feet high round the _Fury_ to keep out snowdrifts. The season was long and severe, and it was August before they could get free of ice. The prospect of a third winter in the ice could not be safely faced, and Parry resolved to get home. October found them at the Shetlands, all the bells of Lerwick being set ringing and the town illuminated with joy at the arrival of men who had been away from all civilisation for twenty-seven months. On 14th November 1823 the expedition arrived home in England.

Still the restless explorer was longing to be off again; he was still fascinated by the mysteries of the Arctic regions, but on his third voyage we need not follow him, for the results were of no great importance. The _Fury_ was wrecked amid the ice in Prince Regent's Inlet, and the whole party had to return on board the _Hecla_ in 1825.

CHAPTER LIII

FRANKLIN'S LAND JOURNEY TO THE NORTH

The northern sh.o.r.es of North America were not yet explored, and Franklin proposed another expedition to the mouth of the Mackenzie River, where the party was to divide, half of them going to the east and half to the west. Nothing daunted by his recent sufferings, Franklin accepted the supreme command, and amid the foremost volunteers for service were his old friends, Back and Richardson. The officers of the expedition left England in February 1825, and, travelling by way of New York and Canada, they reached Fort c.u.mberland the following June; a month later they were at Fort Chipewyan on the sh.o.r.es of Lake Athabasca, and soon they had made their way to the banks of the Great Bear Lake River, which flows out of that lake into the Mackenzie River, down which they were to descend to the sea. They decided to winter on the sh.o.r.es of the Bear Lake; but Franklin could never bear inaction, so he resolved to push on to the mouth of the Great River with a small party in order to prospect for the coming expedition.

So correct had been Mackenzie's survey of this Great River, as it was called, that Franklin, "in justice to his memory," named it the Mackenzie River after its "eminent discoverer," which name it has borne ever since. In a little English boat, with a fair wind and a swift current, Franklin accomplished three hundred and twelve miles in about sixty hours. The saltness of the water, the sight of a boundless horizon, and the appearance of porpoises and whales were encouraging signs. They had reached the Polar sea at last--the "sea in all its majesty, entirely free from ice and without any visible obstruction to its navigation."

On reaching the coast a silken Union Jack worked by Franklin's dying wife was unfurled. She had died a few days after he left England, but she had insisted on her husband's departure in the service of his country, only begging him not to unfurl her flag till he arrived at the Polar sh.o.r.es. As it fluttered in the breeze of these desolate sh.o.r.es, the little band of Englishmen cheered and drank to the health of the King.

"You can imagine," says Franklin, "with what heartfelt emotion I first saw it unfurled; but in a short time I derived great pleasure in looking at it."

It was too late to attempt navigation for this year, although the weather in August was "inconveniently warm," so on 5th September, Franklin returned to winter quarters on the Great Bear Lake. During his absence a comfortable little settlement had grown up to accommodate some fifty persons, including Canadian and Indian hunters with their wives and children. In honour of the commander it had been called Fort Franklin, and here the party of explorers settled down for the long months of winter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FORT FRANKLIN, ON THE GREAT BEAR LAKE, IN THE WINTER.

From a drawing in Franklin's _Second Expedition to the Polar Sea_, 1828.]

"As the days shortened," says Franklin, "it was necessary to find employment during the long evenings for those resident at the house, and a school was established from seven to nine for their instruction in reading, writing, and arithmetic, attended by most of the British party. Sunday was a day of rest, and the whole party attended Divine Service morning and evening. If on other evenings the men felt the time tedious, the hall was at their service to play any game they might choose, at which they were joined by the officers. Thus the men became more attached to us, and the hearts and feelings of the whole party were united in one common desire to make the time pa.s.s as agreeably as possible to each other, until the return of spring should enable us to resume the great object of the expedition."

April brought warmer weather, though the ground was still covered with snow, and much boat-building went on. In May swans had appeared on the lake, then came geese, then ducks, then gulls and singing birds.

By June the boats were afloat, and on the 24th the whole party embarked for the Mackenzie River and were soon making their way to the mouth.

Here the party divided. Franklin on board the _Lion_, with a crew of six, accompanied by Back on board the _Reliance_, started westwards, while Richardson's party was to go eastwards and survey the coast between the mouth of the Mackenzie River and the Copper Mine. On 7th July, Franklin reached the sea, and, with flags flying, the _Lion_ and the _Reliance_ sailed forth on the unknown seas, only to ground a mile from sh.o.r.e. Suddenly some three hundred canoes full of Eskimos crowded towards them. These people had never seen a white man before, but when it was explained to them that the English had come to find a channel for large s.h.i.+ps to come and trade with them, they "raised the most deafening shout of applause." They still crowded round the little English boats, till at last, like others of their race, they began to steal things from the boats. When detected they grew furious and brandished knives, they tore the b.u.t.tons off the men's coats, and for a time matters looked serious till the English showed their firearms, when the canoes paddled away and the Eskimos hid themselves.

With a fair wind the boats now sailed along the coast westward, till stopped by ice, which drove them from the sh.o.r.e. Dense fogs, stormy winds, and heavy rain made this Polar navigation very dangerous; but the explorers pushed on till, on 27th July, they reached the mouth of a broad river which, "being the most westerly river in the British dominions on this coast and near the line of demarcation between Great Britain and Russia, I named it the Clarence," says Franklin, "in honour of His Royal Highness the Lord High Admiral." A box containing a royal medal was deposited here, and the Union Jack was hoisted amid hearty cheers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FRANKLIN'S EXPEDITION CROSSING BACK'S INLET. From a drawing, by Lieut. Back, in Franklin's _Second Expedition to the Polar Sea_, 1828.]

Still fogs and storms continued; the farther west they advanced, the denser grew the fog, till by the middle of August, winter seemed to have set in. The men had suffered much from the hard work of pulling and dragging the heavy boats; they also endured torments from countless swarms of mosquitoes. They were now some three hundred and seventy-four miles from the mouth of the Mackenzie River and only half-way to Icy Cape; but Franklin, with all his courage and with all his enthusiasm, dared not risk the lives of his men farther. "Return Reef" marks his farthest point west, and it was not till long after that he learnt that Captain Beechey, who had been sent in the _Blossom_ by way of Behring Strait, had doubled Icy Cape and was waiting for Franklin one hundred and sixty miles away.

On 21st September, Fort Franklin was reached after three months'

absence. Dr. Richardson had already returned after a successful coast voyage of some eight hundred miles.

When he had left Franklin he had, on board the _Dolphin_, accompanied by the _Union_, sailed along the unknown coast eastward. Like Franklin's party, his expedition had also suffered from fogs, gales, and mosquitoes, but they had made their way on, naming inlets, capes, and islands as they pa.s.sed. Thus we find Russell Inlet, Point Bathurst, Franklin's Bay, Cape Parry, the Union and Dolphin Straits, named after the two little s.h.i.+ps, where the _Dolphin_ was nearly wrecked between two ma.s.ses of ice. They had reached Fort Franklin in safety just before Franklin's party, and, being too late to think of getting home this year, they were all doomed to another winter at the Fort. They reached England on 26th September 1827, after an absence of two years and a half.

Franklin had failed to find the North-West Pa.s.sage, but he and Richardson had discovered a thousand miles of North American coast, for which he was knighted and received the Paris Geographical Society's medal for "the most important acquisition to geographical knowledge" made during the year. It was a curious coincidence that the two Arctic explorers, Franklin and Parry, both arrived in England the same month from their various expeditions, and appeared at the Admiralty within ten minutes of one another.

CHAPTER LIV

PARRY'S POLAR VOYAGE

Parry had left England the preceding April in an attempt to reach the North Pole by means of sledges over the ice. To this end he had sailed to Spitzbergen in his old s.h.i.+p the _Hecla_, many of his old s.h.i.+pmates sailing with him. They arrived off the coast of Spitzbergen about the middle of May 1827. Two boats had been specially built in England, covered with waterproof canvas and lined with felt. The _Enterprise_ and _Endeavour_ had bamboo masts and paddles, and were constructed to go on sledges, drawn by reindeer, over the ice.

"Nothing," says Parry, "can be more beautiful than the training of the Lapland reindeer. With a simple collar of skin round his neck, a single trace of the same material attached to the sledge and pa.s.sing between his legs, and one rein fastened like a halter round his neck, this intelligent and docile animal is perfectly under the command of an experienced driver, and performs astonis.h.i.+ng journeys over the softest snow. Shaking the rein over his back is the only whip that is required."

Leaving the _Hecla_ in safe harbour on the Spitzbergen coast, Parry and James Ross, a nephew of John Ross, the explorer, with food for two months, started off in their two boat-sledges for the north. They made a good start; the weather was calm and clear, the sea smooth as a mirror--walruses lay in herds on the ice, and, steering due north, they made good progress.

Next day, however, they were stopped by ice. Instead of finding a smooth, level plain over which the reindeer could draw their sledges with ease, they found broken, rugged, uneven ice, which nothing but the keen enthusiasm of the explorer could have faced. The reindeer were useless, and they had to be relinquished; it is always supposed that they were eaten, but history is silent on this point. The little party had to drag their own boats over the rough ice. They travelled by night to save snow-blindness, also that they could enjoy greater warmth during the hours of sleep by day.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BOATS OF PARRY'S EXPEDITION HAULED UP ON THE ICE FOR THE NIGHT. From a drawing in Parry's _Attempt to Reach the North Pole_, 1828.]