IX. PRELIMINARY SLEDGE EXPEDITIONS AND LIFE AT THE STATION.

Among the amusements which helped to kill time at the station of Discovery Harbor, officially called Fort Conger, was that of celebrating certain birthdays, and this chapter begins with what was done when Lieutenant Lockwood attained his twenty-ninth year. He confessed that he did not wish a “happy return of the day” in the Arctic regions, and yet he would be contented if they should all be as pleasant as the one just experienced, in spite of the cold winds, ice, snow, darkness, and anticipations of exposure and fatigue when his spring travels should begin. He spent most of the day in sewing canvas leggings to his moccasins and altering his trousers, while Lieutenant Greely entertained him with recollections of his army experience during the rebellion, fighting his battles over again. His birthday dinner was something quite formidable, consisting of:

Pea soup à la Proteus,

Scalloped oysters à la Eastern Shore,

Deviled crabs à la Chesapeake,

Musk-ox à la Franklin Bay,
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Potatoes à l’Irlandaise,

Macaroni à l’Italienne,

Rice and curry à la Pacific Mail,

Blanc-mange, fruits, nuts, cake, ice-cream, and black coffee.

Lieutenant Greely kindly added, from private stores, some very good California port wine. Lockwood’s reflections, however, carried him to his distant home, and he longed to know that all there were well—that his dear parents and sisters were happy as when he was with them! Perhaps, even at that hour, their thoughts and words were of him. On this day, as frequently on his sledging journeys, he pictured to himself the family circle in the far-off home. The cold, fatigue, and monotony attending him and his companions were rendered endurable by thus breaking away from the present.

On the morning of the 10th of October, Lockwood started on a trip with Jewell across Lady Franklin Bay for Cape Baird. Had no difficulty for a mile or two beyond Dutch Island, but mist and fog then obscuring their way and blotting out the landscape, they kept on their course by compass. Soon they encountered heavy snow-drifts and many floe-bergs and fields of rubble-ice, all unfavorable for sledging. Fortunately, they had only themselves to transport. Though the weather was cold, they soon found themselves oppressively warm from the labor attending the journey. Profiting by past experience, Lockwood had this time come out warmly dressed—viz., with two flannel shirts, a woolen jersey, an under-shirt of light buckskin, 113 heavy woolen drawers, a seal-skin over-all, and two pairs of socks under light buckskin moccasins. He then became convinced, that it was quite as great a mistake to wear too much as too little clothing. Even when they could ride on the sledge, which was not often, there were numerous bad places where they had to run with the dogs and lift the sledge over obstacles. Trying to avoid the moving ice, they struck too far westward, so that when they approached land they found themselves some two miles within the cape for which they had started. Stopping only to take a bite of crackers and meat, they started to retrace their steps, but not before daylight had left them, and they had only the moon to show them the way. After some time they thought to reduce the distance by taking what they supposed was a short cut, but soon found themselves scrambling over hummocky ice of the most formidable character. They regained their track, but not till overcome by thirst and fatigue. Resting at short intervals, they finally came in sight of Dutch Island, and soon afterward were gladdened by the sound of distant shouts. Dr. Pavy and Sergeants Brainard and Connell had come out to meet them, and not empty-handed, for they bore a bag of hot coffee, and never did coffee taste more delicious. Though the mercury was nearly nine degrees below zero, when they reached the house everything they had on was as wet as if they had fallen overboard.

The result of that reconnaissance was that they decided to establish a “depot” near Cape Baird, which 114 labor was duly carried out by Lockwood, Ellis, Saler, and Bender. The weather being open, they started directly for Cape Baird, but, finding that route impracticable, inclined westward and got into their old track. After much delay and great labor, they reached a point on the farther side, where they found it necessary to encamp for the night. The tent was pitched, chocolate boiled, and beans thawed out, after which they crawled into their sleeping-bags, trying to forget, if possible, that the thermometer stood at -24° without. Resuming their journey, but now with the discomfort of wind added to intense cold, they made their way ashore, established the depot of provisions, and with lightened sledges and hearts retraced their steps. Noses were frozen during the day, and only restored by friction, which made them raw and uncomfortable. Very soon after starting back, twilight disappeared, and they had only the moon to light them on their way. Passing the resting-place of the previous night, they concluded to make the journey to the house without stopping. They stumbled on in the dark, a used-up party, Lockwood having a sprained tendon Achilles, and also a lame back. The air becoming calm, they were enabled to stop sometimes and rest, which they could not have safely done in their perspiring condition had the wind been blowing. When near Dutch Island, Dr. Pavy and Lieutenant Kislingbury met them with hot coffee, which so much refreshed them that the rest of the journey seemed easy, although it was probable that Lockwood’s raw red nose, frosted 115 toes, lame back, and tender heel, would be reminders of this trip for a long time.

On the 16th of October the sun disappeared, to rise no more until February. With the mercury ranging from -28° to -40°, Lockwood amused himself by scraping off the accumulated condensation of moisture from the room on the window-panes near his corner, the ice being one inch thick.

About this time Lockwood took up a course of Arctic literature, with which they were liberally supplied. This was chiefly in view of his sledge-journey in the coming spring. Feeling the need of exercise, he left the station on the 23d for Depot “B,” Cape Beechy, with Brainard, Connell, and the Esquimaux Frederick, and a sledge with eight dogs. At Depot “A” they took on a small stove and a bag of coal from the mines, and thereby the tent at Depot “B” became more comfortable than anything they had experienced away from the station; notwithstanding, they had a comfortless night, as the crowded condition of the tent compelled some of them to lie so near the stove as to endanger their safety. Lockwood woke up to find a large hole burned in his blanket. Afterward, the fire going out, they suffered more than when they had had no fire at all. They erected a snow-house for a depot here, forming the sides of tough blocks of compact snow, and covering it with the boat-sail supported by oars, and, by imitating the natives in some particulars, had a house impervious to cold.

While there, Lockwood, with Brainard, ascended 116 Mount Bufort, near at hand, and had an uninterrupted view of the straits as far down as Cape Lieber, and of the opposite coast, between which and them hung water-clouds, indicating open water. This fact was also indicated by the roar, like a moving railroad-train, made by the crushing of the ice in the current. Having passed another night in their warm snow-house, they made their way next day to the station in less than five hours, and found all hands there engaged in erecting an ice wall around the house as high as the eaves, and filling in with snow. This proved most effectual in keeping the house warm.

Lieutenant Greely had an uncomfortable experience while assisting to make a tide-gauge. He fell in and got a ducking—not his first experience in that direction. Wolves were daily seen near the house, and were so bold and fearless that the men deemed it prudent never to leave the building without fire-arms; for, as the animals were of the same color as the snow, they could not be easily distinguished.

On the 29th, a singular aurora made its appearance, consisting of a ribbon of white light a degree wide, stretching through the zenith from north to south; then another arch, 10° westward, whose base touched the first; and still another, also passing through the zenith, and cutting the others at right angles.

On the 30th, Lockwood commenced preparations for a preliminary journey to Hall’s winter quarters, whenever the straits could be crossed and the weather and light were suitable. Among other things, the 117 saddler, Fredericks, made a tent to hold eight men, using to that end two common “A” tents.

About this time, while cogitating on his room and room-mates, Lockwood said: “Surely this is a happy quartet occupying this room! We often sit silent during the whole day, and even a meal fails to elicit anything more than a chance remark or two. A charming prospect for four months of darkness, such gloom within, and penned up as we are in one room! I have doubts of getting over the straits, but I must be off as soon as possible, for I find a relief in getting away.”

Lieutenant Greely had felt himself compelled to show his dissatisfaction with Dr. Pavy’s explorations, or rather attempted explorations. He and the doctor had also adverse views as to how explorations should be made. The doctor wanted to take along many creature comforts, while Greely thought, with Lockwood, that nothing could be accomplished without sacrificing all beyond bare necessities.

Having everything complete, Lockwood started on the 1st of November to try the passage of the straits, with Brainard, Lynn, Saler, Biederbick, Ellis, Fredericks, and Connell, dragging an eight-man sledge, weighing, with load, one thousand pounds. They left sledge and load beyond Cape Distant, and returned to lodge at the house, where all hands fortified themselves with a first-class dinner, preparatory to the labors of the next day.

They got off early, but, owing to the limited light and other difficulties, found themselves some distance from the snow-house near Cape Beechy when darkness 118 overtook them. Having all in readiness on the 4th, they again got off, leaving Ellis at the snow-house with an injured foot. This was unfortunate, as he was a strong, willing fellow, with lots of pluck. The prospects of crossing the straits at this time were not encouraging, both from the short duration of light and from the open waters. Still, they determined to make the effort. This they first did with the whale-boat, which they had picked up on their route. They mounted it on the sledge, but soon found they could not drag so heavy a body, and returned to the snow-house. Rice, whom they found there, was then sent with a dog-sledge to bring up a small boat from Cape Murchison. Dr. Pavy, Lieutenant Kislingbury, and Jans coming along en route for another attempt northward, were surprised to see how comfortable they were in the snow-house.

After extensive repairs to the small boat, they again got off at noon, seven men and Lockwood himself dragging the sledge, on which were the boat and one hundred and fourteen pounds of rations. On reaching open water, three only were to proceed in the boat, the others to fall back on the snow-house. They got along pretty well until they came to the hummocks, through which, with extreme labor, and frequently using an axe, they made their way, till they heard, in the distance toward Polaris Promontory, the roar of the grinding ice, indicating open water. Moving on ahead of the party over very rough ice, and crossing some wet, slushy ice fifteen or twenty yards wide, Lockwood found himself on a level floe. He had 119 gone only a short distance over this toward a dark streak beyond, which he took for open water, when he found that the floe upon which he stood was in motion. Retreating over the bed of slushy ice, he found this to be really only a thick mass of broken pieces intermediate between the moving floe and the firm ice. He could readily thrust his ice-hook down through it to the water beneath, and did so. Reaching the sledge-party, and viewing the difficulties of the situation, he decided, all agreeing, on the impracticability of crossing at this season. They accordingly displayed signal-torches from the top of an iceberg, as agreed upon, that Lieutenant Greely might know that they had found the crossing dangerous and had abandoned the effort. They returned in darkness, and with considerable difficulty, guided somewhat by a signal-torch displayed by Ellis at the snow-house. They remained all day at the snow-house, which the men found so comfortable that they preferred it to the restraints of the station. At noon Lockwood and Brainard went upon a tramp, and found the condition of the open water to be such as to demonstrate the wisdom of their return the evening before. The men made some additions to the snow-house, which were regarded as a great success. The return to the station on the 7th was attended with more difficulty and labor than had been expected, arising from a strong south wind having worn away the foot-ice, and the small amount of light; hence, they soon had wet feet, which in that region always means frost-bitten feet. So much were some of the men used up by this journey of twenty 120 miles, which had before been made in one day, that they had to be conveyed on the sledge, and did not reach the station till the third day. At Dutch Island they met Whistler, who, missing Biederbick at the ropes and seeing a human form on the sledge, came to the conclusion that Biederbick was dead, and repeatedly exclaimed, “Poor Biederbick! poor Biederbick!”

During a period of dullness at the station, Rice and Henry projected a newspaper, to be called the “Arctic Moon,” and Lockwood, to whom, also, the idea had occurred, agreed to join them as one of the editors. They wanted something to dispel the monotony which was depressing all hands, as all were tired of reading, of cards and other games, while two of Lockwood’s room-mates were gloomy and taciturn. To counteract this, he resumed his reading, especially history and travels—anything but novels. Kane’s work interested him especially, and he considered him a remarkable man, courageous, energetic, and determined. Their own manner of life just then reminded Lockwood of a rainy day in the country intensified. “Yet,” says he, “why not be contented? Books and leisure afford an opportunity for reading and studying which we may never have again. We have a warm, comfortable house, plenty of food, and other things which many are without. Life in this world is just what one chooses to make it. Man can make of it a heaven or a hell.” He felt anxious as to the effect of one hundred and thirty sunless days upon himself and men, as this might tell on their sledging 121 in the coming spring. Nares’s people broke down under it, and, when sledging, were decimated by the scurvy. They themselves were fortunate so far in not having had a single man sick enough to keep his bed.

True to his intellectual instincts, Lockwood formed a class in geography and grammar, consisting of Ellison, Bender, Connell, and Whistler, while Lieutenant Greely taught them arithmetic. On the 22d of November appeared, with a flourish of trumpets, the first number of the “Arctic Moon.” Of course the editors thought it a great success. It had for the frontispiece a sketch of the house, drawn by Lockwood, while Rice made fair copies of the paper by the hectograph process—enough for all, and many to spare.

These trifles served to shorten, apparently, the many hours of gloom and darkness, which were wearing away the spirits of all. The men were now far less hilarious than they had been, and, with the game of chess to assist, silence reigned supreme.

Thanksgiving-day, with its games, sports, and dinner, gave them a pleasant variety. First, came the snow-shoe race of one hundred yards, Brainard, victor. Next, the foot-race, with many contestants, but Ellis coming out ahead. Then the dog-team race to Dutch Island and return, under the Esquimaux Jans and Frederick, the latter, victor. And, finally, a shooting-match, necessarily at short range, and with torches, Henry, victor. These and other out-door exercises were followed by the grand feature of the day, the Thanksgiving dinner, and not a poor one either, even for a lower latitude than eighty-two degrees. 122 In the evening Lieutenant Greely gave out prizes to the victors and second best, Rice acting as master of ceremonies, rigged out in swallow-tail coat, black pantaloons, white vest, and “boiled” shirt. The mercury froze on that day, and Lieutenant Greely brought in a teacupful, which looked like lead as it comes from the mold. The moon also made its appearance, and all fully appreciated the blessing of this luminary.

“What a change,” exclaimed Lockwood, “when she comes forth in all her beauty and loveliness, flooding the landscape with her refulgent beams and cheering the drooping spirits of benighted mortals! Even the poor dogs feel her influence!” On the 1st of December, they had an almost total eclipse of the moon, more remarkable there than an eclipse of the sun elsewhere. During the phenomenon, the exposed part of the disk was of a dull-red color. Lockwood took the altitude of the moon while crossing the meridian, using a saucer of molasses as an artificial horizon. She flooded the whole region with a light, electric in appearance, and causing deep shadows. In the evening they were treated to a display of mock moons, with a circular band of bright light connecting them, and several bands or ribbons of light at various angles, but all passing through the moon.

The Esquimaux, Jans and Frederick, having of late been much depressed, efforts were made by kindly attentions on the part of Lieutenant Greely and others to dispel their gloom and assure them of the friendly feeling entertained toward them by all. 123 These good offices, however, all failed. Dr. Pavy said this state of mind was not infrequent among the natives of lower Greenland, and often resulted in the wandering off of the subjects of it, and, if not followed, by their perishing in the cold. One morning Jans was missing, and at once his tracks were followed by Dr. Pavy, Brainard, Rice, and Whistler, with the dog-sledge. Late in the afternoon they returned with poor Jans, who was found nine miles away, following at a rapid pace the ice-foot around Cape Murchison. He returned unwillingly, and gave no reason for his strange conduct. Rice and Whistler were both rendered hors de combat by the journey, the former by a fall from an ice-hummock, the latter by congestion of the brain owing to having shaved before going out. Both Dr. Kane and Dr. Rink (in his book on Greenland) refer to hallucinations similar to that of Jans, and the frequent fatal consequences.

On the 14th of December appeared the second number of the “Arctic Moon,” which was thought to be an improvement on number one, and was well received. Lieutenant Greely gave a lecture on the “Polar Question.”

On the same day also, Esquimaux Frederick came to Lieutenant Greely and asked permission to leave the station, and, when asked why, said some one was going to shoot him—a strange hallucination!

On the 20th Lockwood writes: “The sun now begins his journey to the north; the backbone of the winter is broken! Walking out at noon to-day, I was just able to see the hands of my watch by holding it 124 close to my eye. The profound silence of this region is quite as striking, and almost as disagreeable, as the darkness. Standing still, one can almost hear his heart beat. The sense of solitude is sublime.” Speaking of Arctic literature, he says that “Hayes’ book, though beautifully written, is far below that of Kane as to information and reliability. No one who has been up Smith’s Sound can fail to notice this.”

On the 24th of December, after eating a birthday dinner, the Christmas presents from an unknown friend to every one of the party, were distributed. The rooms were appropriately decorated, and everything was done to render the occasion cheerful and pleasant. Those articles not specifically assigned by the donor were disposed of by lottery.

Lockwood indulged in the following reflections: “How suggestive of home and of the dear ones there! How often do my thoughts wander away to them! Has Providence been equally kind to them as to me? The day with me suggests alternately the past and the future. Will next Christmas find me here, with everything around as auspicious as now, and shall I then be able to look back with satisfaction and self-complacency on my labors along the Greenland coast? Or will the future bring a record of dreams unsatisfied, of efforts unproductive, of labor in vain? My mind is far away with that group at home assembled together and doubtless regretting that the absent one is not of their number. Could I but see them for an hour, or know that all is well with them, I should rejoice, indeed!”
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The “Lime-Juice Club” gave an entertainment on the same evening, at which Snyder affected Jans to tears by his personation of an Esquimaux lady, and Connell brought down the house as a martinet captain, by exclaiming, when a soldier who had shot himself was brought in: “Very sad affair, very sad, indeed! Charge him with two cartridges expended, Sergeant.”

Lieutenant Greely also gave the party as a lecture, “Reminiscences of the Battle of Fredericksburg,” which was interesting and two hours long, though entirely ex tempore; and Lockwood was announced to lecture on “Arctic Sledging.”

On the 31st, rations of rum were issued to help the men welcome in the new year. They were also to fire a salute with rifles. Fiddles were in full blast, with singing and other marks of hilarity.

Lockwood’s lecture on “Arctic Sledging” was given January 3, 1882, and was well received. Being confirmed in his opinion that he was no public speaker, he intended to leave lecturing for others thereafter. On the 9th he took his usual walk, notwithstanding the thermometer was at 60° below zero, and felt the cold chiefly on his nose. It seemed curious to him, that when the thermometer was lowest, the air was stillest. Were it otherwise, he supposed existence in the Arctic would be an impossibility.

But severe as was the weather, it did not deter him from the study of science, as will be seen by the following record, made on the 9th of January: “I have been looking up the subject of nautical astronomy 126 for some time past, and to-day and this evening, taking sextant, mercury, etc., and establishing an observatory on top of an old barrel in front of the house, commenced observations on the transit of Markab, Capella, and other stars, but have not been very successful. Everything conspires against one in this climate. It reminds me of my observations last spring. However, I hope by dint of practice to do better. The winter is passing away slowly but surely. The time is coming when I shall look at these stars from grassy fields, on a summer night, in the temperate zone, I hope. The stars up here are very bright, and a great many of them circle around the pole and never set. It is a beautiful sight. Arcturus, Aldebaran, and others, besides being very bright, show different colors, red, violet, and green. Jupiter looks immense.”

Still absorbed with his astronomical studies, he gives us the following on the 13th of the same month: “The moon appeared after noon. How welcome she is! How a poet would rave over the moon could he once experience a polar winter!—not simply an Arctic winter, for anywhere north of the Arctic Circle is the Arctic, and the dark days which most expeditions have seen are trifling compared with ours. I think it would be a good idea to exile a first-class poet into these regions for the purpose, but give him to understand he was never to return. How he would sing!”

On the 12th, they had a phenomenon they had never heard of—the precipitation of vapor with a perfectly 127 clear sky. It resembled a heavy mist or light rain.

On the 16th occurred the first hurricane of the season. It began in the morning with heavy south wind and sudden fall of barometer. At noon the wind whipped round to the northeast and blew with indescribable fury, filling the air with snow-drifts, and blotting out the view of everything even a few feet distant. The anemometer registered sixty-five miles, and then broke down. The noise of the storm, as heard from the house, was as though on shipboard. It must have given way but for the ice walls around it.

On the 20th, Lieutenant Greely issued a circular letter, calling attention to the order that all should be up for breakfast. Kislingbury and Dr. Pavy took exceptions to this, and the latter declined to lecture in his turn.

The next evening occurred a beautiful and unique auroral display, the chief features of which were many broad bands of pure white passing through the zenith and reaching to the east and to the west horizon, which blended, twisted, and curled in upon each other in a very remarkable manner. The spectacle was viewed with wonder and amazement.

On the 26th, the twilight at noonday was quite bright. The moon also lent her aid; but low spirits and a sense of oppression and homesickness prevailed, all induced, doubtless, by want of exercise, and loneliness.

“Another twenty-four hours,” wrote Lockwood, on the 6th of February, “of this interminable night 128 nearly gone! Thank God! Sometimes it seems as if this life must hold on forever, but tempus fugit up here as well as elsewhere. The days and weeks seem weeks and months in passing, and yet, in the retrospect, time seems to have passed quickly, because there is so little in the past to mark its progress, I suppose.”

Lockwood could not realize the extreme cold, and seldom wore his gloves when going out for a few minutes. Though he put on a thick dog-skin coat and seal-skin over-all when taking his daily walk, he really did not regard so much clothing necessary. Exposure to such low temperatures, however, for several hours, and particularly at night, was to be dreaded. Many authorities—among others Lieutenant Greely—spoke of a peculiar sensation in the throat on first encountering a very low temperature, as when going out of doors from a warm room, but such was not Lockwood’s experience. Provided it was calm, he could stand any degree of cold he had yet met with. Owing to the peculiar and admirable construction of their house, the men were able to keep up 50° of heat within, however cold without.

On the 13th of February, Lockwood with two men went to see what damage had resulted from the late storm to the observatory on the summit of Bellot Island. Contrary to their expectations, they found the snow not only deep, but with a crust just firm enough not to bear. Consequently, they sent the dog-sledge back, and proceeded on foot, frequently sinking down knee-deep. Though the thermometer 129 stood at -65°, they got into a profuse perspiration, which was not lessened by the steep and slippery ascent of two thousand feet. From this point the station-house seemed only a black spot, and was hardly recognizable as a house. Having made their inspection and fired their rifles several times as agreed upon with Lieutenant Greely, who was experimenting on sound, they returned. The result of these experiments was, that at -65° sound travels nine hundred and fifty feet per second. This was the coldest day they had yet experienced, and still they did not suffer with the cold.

The return to a warm house was an indescribable comfort, and Lockwood thought that if this could always be done, Arctic journeying would then be nothing. It was unprecedentedly cold even for that latitude. Pure brandy and also glycerine were frozen hard. The poor dogs suffered, yet many of them preferred to remain curled up on the snow-banks outside, to occupying the tent and holes prepared for them.

On the 19th, Lockwood made a dog-sledge trip with Brainard and the Esquimaux Frederick to Depot “B,” to look for a good place to cross the straits. Found that the snow had drifted so as to form a continuous inclined plane from the bluffs far outside the snow-house and tent, thus almost concealing them. They recognized the spot only by seeing the stovepipe jutting above the snow. Knowing how the mouth of the tunnel lay from this point, they dug through the hard, compact snow, cleared out the tunnel, and soon 130 found themselves within the snow-house. The little stove was swallowed up in a cone of snow reaching from roof to floor. This had drifted through a small aperture where the pipe pierced the roof. The fire going out after they turned in, the room became extremely damp and chilly. However, they made up for the discomforts of the night by a rousing fire in the morning, over which they got up a grand breakfast of musk-ox steak, beans, coffee, and hard-tack. They next sent the team with Frederick down to St. Patrick’s Bay for a bag of coal, while Lockwood and Brainard walked over the straits toward Polaris Promontory. Going out some four or five miles over ice of varied nature, some exceedingly broken and hummocky and some quite level, they returned, satisfied that the time for crossing over was not yet. Frederick had, in the mean time, returned, mended up the hole in the roof, made a good fire, and prepared a warm meal.

They again started out to test the important passage, taking a route farther north. There the rubble-ice reached only two hundred yards from the shore, beyond which, as far as they walked and could see, smooth ice extended. They returned, satisfied that this was the place to attempt the passage when the time should arrive for their contemplated exploration farther north.

They made the trip over the foot-ice to the station (twenty miles) in four hours, thus proving the fine condition of the sledge and dogs for traveling, and the eagerness of the dogs to rejoin their companions and 131 pups. All the way, they had before them to the southward a rich glow on the horizon like the sunrise of a fine morning at home. They found the men celebrating the 22d of February by match-games of various kinds, and, after listening to an appropriate speech on the Father of his Country, enjoyed a good dinner.