XIV. RESUMING A DESPERATE STRUGGLE.

On the 19th of March, fair weather came out of the north, and not only cheered the hearts of the whole colony at the station, but fired the desire of Lieutenant Lockwood for the new campaign, which he had long been contemplating. After a consultation with Lieutenant Greely, he concluded to start on the following day, or soon after. As usual, some cold water was thrown upon his plans, one of the critics declaring that they had experienced enough of that kind of business; and another, that they had better be thinking of their coming fate. But Lockwood’s reasoning was as follows: “Before I go home, I must make another ‘strike’ on the north Greenland coast. If the conditions of the ice are no worse, I ought to be able to discover the northeast extremity of Greenland, and add several miles to my latitude, although Lieutenant Greely thinks that my present ‘farthest’ will not again be reached in our day. I say nothing about all this, however. Act first and talk afterward has always been my way.”

Lockwood was both hopeful and determined, and on the 23d he received his final orders to the effect, that, should he not be able to reach a higher latitude 230 than he did before without undue danger, or should he or any of his men break down or become dangerously ill, he was to return forthwith. To this he replied that he knew not what might happen, but he intended, if possible, to reach the eighty-fourth parallel. In anticipation of his own birthday, and to honor the explorers with a good “send-off,” Lieutenant Greely gave a dinner on the 26th, and, thus fortified, they were prepared to move on the following day, rejoicing.

Lockwood had two fine teams of ten dogs each assigned for his use, and, as before, the faithful Brainard and Esquimaux Frederick were to accompany him. Everything passed off quietly, without the excitement or enthusiasm of the previous spring. They left the station at 8.30 A. M., the advance sledge bearing the silk flag of Mrs. Greely, with Brainard and Frederick the Esquimaux; the supporting sledge with Jewell, Ellis, and Esquimaux Jans; and then the pup-team and sledge driven by Snyder, and carrying Greely and Lockwood. On reaching Watercourse Bay, whence they were to take back a load of coal, Lieutenant Greely and team left them, after bidding God-speed, and telling them to be sure and bring back the north end of Greenland! Reaching Depot A in two and a quarter hours, they took on two small seals left there, and passing Depot B, where they obtained more provisions, they reached Cape Beechy at 4 P. M.—the dogs quite fresh, but the men much wearied.

When they resumed their journey, it was snowing and the Greenland shore invisible. They took a direct 231 course by compass for Cape Sumner over rubble-ice until they reached the first floe, on whose hard, undulating surface they made rapid progress until they came to rubble-ice again. Brainard, with axe in hand, went ahead, clearing the way over impassable places, until the high cliff of Polaris Promontory came in sight. Finally, both Jewell and Ellis suffering from pain, when three miles from Cape Sumner they stopped for the night, after making twenty miles, and all went into bags.

Moving early next morning with considerable wind, they got into bad ice with cracks, down which some of the dogs fell and had to be drawn up; but finally, finding a better route, reached the Polaris Boat Camp, where, leaving some meat for the dogs when returning, they continued on toward Gap Valley, generally over rolling floes, and through rubble, requiring a good deal of cutting, tugging, and pushing.

When three miles out they went into camp again, leaving Ellis to prepare supper for all, while the others, with both sledges, returned to the Boat Camp.

Leaving Brainard to get ready the alcohol to be taken from the whale-boat, they kept on along shore to the foot of the cliffs and the cache. Here they found the snow-slopes much worse than on their last visit, but, the sledges being empty, they could have gone along over anything except a stone wall, and even that would have had to be very high to stop them. Fox-tracks were seen near the cache, but they found it intact. The ice they had piled about it was almost 232 covered by the drifting snow. The contents of the cache, about one thousand pounds in all, were put on the two sledges, and soon after they went down a snow-bank so steep and hard that the sledges took entire command, though all hands tried to hold them back; but the dogs keeping out of the way, no harm was done. This was at Cape Sumner, whence they returned to the Boat Camp. Here, taking on the things prepared by Brainard, they returned to the tents. After supper some hours were spent in getting ready the rations for from twenty to forty-eight days. Jewell and Ellis were both complaining; otherwise, every thing looked very promising.

On the morning of the 30th, it was clear overhead but cloudy around the horizon, and a slight snow was falling. The loads were about eleven hundred pounds to each team, but the dogs did admirably, and good speed was made, the ice being covered with a very light depth of snow. At the mouth of the gorge by which they were to ascend and cross the Brevoort Peninsula, they reduced the load on each sledge and started up this narrow, rocky, winding ca?on. The snow was hard and they were getting along well, when right before them appeared a wall of snow, so steep and hard that Lockwood had to use his big knife, to ascend. It was about thirty feet high. He went alone to view the situation. A few yards beyond was a kind of ice tunnel whose roof was about three feet high. Then came another high, steep snow-drift with a snow-cavern alongside, probably fifty yards in length; and also a few feet farther 233 was found a deep pit formed by the snow. Climbing around this and proceeding half a mile, he found that the gorge made a bend to the east and became still more narrow and rocky; but a side ravine offered a chance to get out of this big gutter, up a long, steep slope of hard snow, three or four times the height of the preceding drifts; and then Lockwood found himself on the table-land overlooking Newman Bay.

The sledges with great difficulty gained this comparatively level divide. The landmarks not being altogether familiar to Lockwood, he took a long walk after supper to a distant ridge, where, seeing the sea-coast, his way became perfectly clear. It was a lonely and dismal walk, and the ridge seemed to get farther away as he approached it. After more than two hours’ absence he returned to the tents, crawled in alongside of Sergeant Brainard, and was quickly lulled to sleep notwithstanding the snoring of Frederick. The horrid sound issuing from his bag was as loud as a brass band at a circus.

The process of getting breakfast was to be preferred to that of getting supper. When a man went into camp, after a toilsome day of travel, and had helped to pitch tent and unload the sledge, it was hard, while covered with frost, with cold and perhaps wet feet, to chop ice and meat, and handle cold metal.

After an uncomfortable night, with the temperature down to -45°, they started again. Proceeding several miles, they reached a narrow, winding ravine, and finally a gorge, which they followed until they 234 came to the head of the wide Gap Valley, and thence to the sea-coast. Turning east, they continued on a few hundred yards, and were then stopped by the ice-wall, which crowded so closely to the shore that the sledges could not be hauled through. Lockwood and Frederick pitched the tent, while Brainard went ahead with the axe, and, after much hard work, made a passage about one eighth of a mile long through this place. They managed to worry through with half the load by three o’clock, and, leaving Brainard to get supper, Lockwood and Frederick went on with half the load for about one and a half miles. The route beyond the bad place was excellent. Dropping the load, they returned to the tent by four o’clock. Jewell came along later, he and Ellis complaining again of their difficulty in keeping up with the sledge when it went faster than a slow walk.

While approaching the cairn at Repulse Harbor, on the 1st of April, Brainard’s sharp eyes discovered the site of the English depot of rations, which contained Lieutenant Beaumont’s sextant, an English flag, a cooking-lamp, old clothes, and some foot-gear. The road before them was excellent, and they made good time, soon passing the route of the preceding year, which reached the coast just east of Repulse Harbor.

On coming near Drift Point, they were better able to see the northern expanse outside the ice-wall which lined the coast and had interrupted the view. Lockwood saw a good deal of young ice interspersed with holes, and leads of open water. The main pack beyond 235 seemed permeated by leads of what had been quite recently open water. Dark, misty “water-clouds” were seen everywhere northward. The young ice extended along shore in both directions as far as they could see, and out from shore a hundred yards or more. Beyond it was the polar pack, broken into small floes and rubble-ice, which had a glistening green appearance, as though recently pushed up by the grinding of the fields about it; all this was very surprising.

They made their way over the snow-slopes of Drift Point and beyond until the near approach of the cliffs on one side and the ice-wall on the other brought them to a halt eighty miles from Fort Conger. Here they encamped with everything, having come thus far in six days.

The ice-wall along here was from forty to fifty feet high. Outside, there was a good deal of ice lately formed, with smooth floes. They passed on near the foot of the bluffs, to see if there was any way of getting along the cliffs, making their way between the ice-wall and the foot of the steep slopes of the bluffs with great effort. The débris of stone, etc., from the cliffs above made the route almost impracticable for a sledge. Before reaching Black Horn Cliffs, they were obliged to find a route along the top of the ice-wall, and thus got a short distance along the bottom of these vertical cliffs. But now, from a fissure in the cliffs above, came a steep drift of very hard snow, slanting down to the water at its foot. To scale the cliffs by means of this drift was dangerous, 236 as a slip would inevitably have taken one directly into the water.

By cutting steps in the snow they gained a considerable elevation, but, on looking round a point of rocks, the height beyond was so much greater and worse than they expected, that they could not proceed. All along shore was the crack of open water about a yard wide, with young ice beyond, through which a stone or fragment of ice might be thrown. Dense water-clouds appeared in many directions. They returned to camp, and, after enjoying some tea, Lockwood gave Jewell the tidal rod to make observations, while with Brainard he started out again, this time to the south and up a stream-bed, at whose mouth they were encamped, hoping to find a route back of the cliffs overland. They soon found themselves in a ravine with high, rocky sides, and encountered a steep snow-drift. Beyond was a small hole in the snow, which seemed to be a cavern or grotto formed of snow and ice, and probably running down to the bed of the stream—if that may be called a stream which has no water. Beyond this were exposed rocks under foot, and they saw ptarmigan-tracks, where the birds had used their wings in getting down a snow-drift. Finally, they came to a branch ravine from the southeast, the main stream leading off toward the south. They turned up the branch, and kept on for a while, when the high rocky sides seemed to come to a formation of ice like a glacier, a hundred feet high, at least, and very steep. The crest was perpendicular. The route thus far was difficult yet 237 practicable, but it was clearly impossible for a dog-team to haul an empty sledge up this place, and yet it was the only place where there was anything else than an inclined plane of rocks. The glacier was covered with snow, but in many places the ice could be seen cropping out, the snow being only a thin covering. Some ice-grottoes were also seen. They clambered up the rocks to the left, and found themselves on a stony plateau. Off to the east was an elevated ridge or knoll, toward which they traveled about a mile and a half. On gaining it, the barometer showed an elevation of thirteen hundred feet. Toward the south was a chain of mountains running east and west, through the western extremity of which the main stream-bed they had ascended seemed to break, about six miles from the sea. The branch appeared to end at the glacier; but to the east of it the land sloped north and south, and formed a surface-drain which, running east, soon narrowed into a gorge, and, bending to the north, reached the sea just west of Rest Gorge, as well as they could make out. At the bend was a large formation of ice or snow.

They returned to camp at 3 P. M., and found every one there walking vigorously up and down to keep warm, or, rather, to keep from freezing, the thermometer marking -48°. Jewell left his beat every few minutes to note the height of the water on the tide-rod. There was now nothing else to do except to get into the sleeping-bags, and this in cold weather always involves a change of foot-gear. At six o’clock Brainard had prepared supper, and shortly 238 after, the advance sledge-party was trying to sleep. Jewell kept on taking observations until after eleven, when he caught the high tide. It was a severe ordeal, but he preferred to do it, without assistance, as it was much better for the record.

Brainard complained of want of sleep, and Lockwood’s rest was much the same as usual—an uneasy, oppressed feeling of being half asleep and half awake; every few hours getting broad awake, and wondering if it were time to rise, or how much colder his feet would have to get before freezing. Having decided to examine the main ravine running south, Lockwood started from camp before eight, with Brainard, Frederick, and Ellis. On reaching the branch, he and Ellis continued south, and the other two went up the branch. Continuing along between the high, rocky sides of the ravine, with abundance of hard snow under foot, but some bad snow-drifts, they found a very good sledge-route. After a while, they came to a huge formation of snow, filling the whole breadth of the ravine, and sloping up—in one place by a very easy ascent—to the west bank. Gaining this, they continued on and reached a ridge some twelve hundred feet high, which commanded a view of the sea, and of the valley to the south as far as the mountains. The valley seemed to grow wider and deeper as far as the mountains, through which it broke from a southwest direction. No break or defile of any kind offered an outlet to the east. Beyond the east bank was a wide plateau covered with stones, and about four miles from the sea. After taking a good survey of the 239 country, they turned back toward the camp. Brainard and Frederick joined them some time afterward, and reported that they had cut one hundred and fifty-two steps in the side of the glacier to get up, and found that the branch extended a short distance beyond, but that a vertical ledge of ice some twelve feet high presented itself afterward, and that, on getting beyond this, they found themselves on a plateau covered with bare stones. Brainard thought the route utterly impracticable, and went no farther. He afterward said that they might be able to get round to Rest Gorge in two weeks, with the sledges and loads, by taking the sledges to pieces, and carrying them and the loads piecemeal over these obstructions. The young ice seemed to be getting thicker, and they began to think they might get around the cliffs after all. They had some tea and “pap,” and began to calculate how many days it would take to reach Cape Bryant. During the afternoon, a way for the sledge was cut through a low place in the ice-wall, a short distance west of the camp, and two days’ rations were also deposited in a cache on the hill. A slight wind blew during the day, and by eight o’clock all were in their sleeping-bags again, excepting Jewell, who kept up tidal observations until ten, securing a very satisfactory set, two high tides and the intervening low tide.

Thermometer during the night -43°. After breakfast, Brainard went down to the tide-gauge, and, coming back, reported that the rising tide had widened the crack a little, but that he had fixed it by chopping 240 snow blocks and throwing them into the water. Being unwilling to risk everything on the young ice, thinking that it might break through, Lockwood put the five sacks of pemmican on the sledge, and leaving the tent, etc., and the supporting sledge-party packing up, he, Brainard, and Frederick started on. They reached the ice with no trouble, and, proceeding out from shore one or two hundred yards, turned to the east and went a short distance when, Frederick seeming to think the ice all right, Lockwood sent Brainard ahead with the axe, while with Frederick, having thrown off the load, he proceeded back for the rest of the stores, so as to take all on together. They had nearly reached the shore, when suddenly Lockwood saw two or three of the dogs in the water, and knew from Frederick’s tones that something had happened. The ice was moving out from shore, and they saw no way of getting off. Lockwood called for Jewell, and then leaving Frederick and his team to find a way to shore if possible, started on the run to get within hailing distance of Brainard. He was speedily overtaken by Frederick and the dog-team, the dogs going at a fast gallop, and Frederick laying his whip about them in all directions. Lockwood proceeded to find some place to get ashore, but there was none, except at a little promontory of rubble-ice, in front of the camp, and about two hundred yards from the tide-gauge. Elsewhere up and down, as far as they could see, was a continuous belt of water, every moment getting wider. The ice had a motion toward the east, as well as out from the shore, and thus kept in position 241 a small cake of ice by means of which Lockwood got on the promontory, and then directed the movements of the dog-sledge which now came along. On the way back they stopped and threw the pemmican on the sledge again, the ice being perfectly smooth and hard. They first saved the dogs, pulling them up one by one, and then, the little ice-cake seeming to keep its position, a bridge was made of the sledge, and all the pemmican saved. The ice continued to move out from the shore, until up and down as far as the eye could reach was a wide belt of open water. Before they left, it was in many places between one and two hundred yards wide, and the ice at the same time moving toward the east. They got ashore at eleven o’clock, and by 12.30 the sledge-tracks, which had been opposite the tidal rod, were opposite the camp, a distance of two hundred yards. While the sledges were being packed, a seal made his appearance and eyed the party curiously. The guns were not convenient, and he was not disturbed. Many water-clouds were seen to the north at this time, and the whole polar pack seemed to be on the move. They were all grateful for getting out of the trap so well. Referring to their living on the moving floe, Frederick made signs to suggest their eating the dog-pemmican; certainly this would have lasted a long time had they not frozen to death in the mean while, which they would have done very soon, as they were without sleeping-bags or alcohol.

There seemed nothing to do but turn about and go home, and yet Lockwood was extremely averse to the 242 idea. The overland route looked well-nigh impossible, or something at least that could not be accomplished in time to allow them to reach the farthest of 1882. Lockwood’s orders directed his return in case this contingency should arise, as well as in case of any “signs of the disintegration of the polar pack,” or in case he became incapacitated for rapid travel. He walked up and down and thought of it for some time, both Brainard and Jewell having declared that there was nothing else to do but return. At 12.30, the teams being all ready, they turned toward the west. As they came near the slopes of Drift Point a very disagreeable south wind with drifting snow was met, which continuing to get worse, their cheeks and noses began to suffer, and therefore, at about two o’clock, they halted and pitched the tents, driving the pins first, and raising the tents afterward. By this time it was blowing almost a gale, and, the thermometer being very low, the tent was tied up, and they prepared to weather it out, Lockwood having a severe headache, which added to his tribulations.

The whole of April 5th was passed in the sleeping-bags, giving all hands an opportunity to meditate on the delights of an Arctic sledge-journey. The time was spent in sleep, or in trying to keep warm and sleep at the same time. During the day Lockwood counted up the exact number of rations remaining, and, still bent on his dream of the eighty-fourth degree, calculated that, if they could get around overland to Rest Gorge in five days, they could yet go to the farthest of 1882 and a few days beyond, provided 243 the traveling was not worse than the previous year. He announced his intention accordingly. Brainard and Jewell were not hopeful, but willing to do their best in attempting it. One great obstacle was the lame and crippled condition of both Jewell and Ellis. The signs of disintegration in the polar pack, Lockwood proposed to disregard.

The wind continuing to blow, it was noon before they started off toward the east to reconnoitre; but, prior to this, Lockwood went up on the high ground back of the tents and saw a great deal of open water. Some time after starting, he stopped the sledges and went up on another elevation to reconnoitre, feeling that, if he went on and anything happened, his responsibility would be heavy, from his disobedience of orders. From this point could be seen a belt of open water running along shore, in both directions, for miles. In no place was it less than two hundred yards wide, and from that it increased to four and five hundred. Westward from the vicinity of Repulse Harbor, it extended in a lead, growing wider and wider, all the way across the straits, apparently to the vicinity of Lincoln Bay, where it seemed to swing round to the north. This lead was upward of five miles wide in the middle. Whether there were other leads south of it, between Newman Bay and Beechy, could not be determined. In the polar pack to the north were several small leads and a great many dark water-clouds. The ice was again noticed moving rapidly to the northeast. Beyond Cape Bryant, he supposed the ice to be intact, as in 1882, but around the cape, north 244 of Britannia, they had then traveled on new ice, and, going out on the polar pack at Cape Dodge, just this side of the farthest, had traveled on it for several miles. The condition of this route now could not be known, of course, but what they had seen made the prospect very unfavorable. The signs of disintegration were unmistakable, and Lockwood therefore determined to turn back once again. Near this spot he remarked a very curious stratified floeberg. It was about forty feet high, and a dozen or more horizontal lines were very plain. The weather had now cleared up beautifully, and they were soon at Repulse Harbor. Here they left a short notice of their defeat in an English cairn, and, taking Beaumont’s sextant, the English flag, etc., on the sledge, continued on their way to the mouth of Gap Valley, where they went into camp, and remained long enough to take a set of tidal observations.

The observations here were very satisfactory, and were kept up by Jewell for more than twelve hours. Brainard, with Ellis and the two teams and drivers, advanced the heaviest part of the loads en route nine miles to the shore of Newman Bay. Lockwood and Jewell remained in camp, and the former found it extremely monotonous, having nothing to do but to prepare supper. The only way to keep warm was by constantly moving about, and, as a cold wind was blowing, this in itself was not comfortable. The observations were very trying to Jewell, continued as they were long after the rest were in their bags.

On the 8th of April, they suffered more than usual 245 with cold. The sleeping-bags, frozen stiff, were a long time in thawing out after they got into them. Dark water-clouds were seen along the northern horizon, although elsewhere the sky was bright and clear. One, particularly noticeable, to the northeast and near shore, looked like a huge cliff in a fog. They also noticed a movement in an ice-hillock some distance off the coast. It changed its angle to the east during their stay, and suggested open water across their route before reaching Cape Beechy. They left camp at ten, and found the traveling very good—rather improved by the late storm. Jewell and Ellis began to suffer again, and the latter was carried on the sledge several miles, the loads being very light. They soon reached the middle of the divide, and then the loads left on the shore of Newman Bay, making very fast time through the gorge, though the sledges had to be let down the snow-slopes and drifts by ropes. After stopping some time to take on everything, they proceeded slowly and reached the Boat Camp, and soon after Cape Sumner, where they stopped to make tidal observations, Lockwood and Brainard remarking what a particularly dreary and dismal place it was, and wondering if they should ever see it again. It brought to mind the trials and tribulations of the previous spring. Yet, in spite of those trials, the novelty of everything, and the imperfect equipment, that expedition was a success; and this one, notwithstanding their experience and the completeness of their arrangements, a failure. “Oft expectation fails where most it promises.” Lockwood felt thankful that they 246 had escaped from the ice-pack, and from passing the forty-eight hours of the recent storm upon it, living on the pemmican until finally frozen to death; but the sense of defeat was predominant. They passed a tedious, cold afternoon, but enjoyed a good dinner, having now an abundance of rations of all kinds. It warmed them up and put new life in all. Jewell saw, during his observations, a white owl flying overhead toward the east.

The morning of the 10th was bright, clear, and calm. They noticed a stratum of misty clouds, supposed to be water-clouds, hanging along the foot of the cliffs on the Grinnell Land shore, and extending from above Cape Beechy northward indefinitely. After passing through several bands of rubble-ice with great labor, and yet without having to double up, they found the tracks made on the outward journey, and followed them continuously. This saved a great deal of time in chopping and picking out a road. About noon they suddenly encountered a very cold south wind. It seemed to come out of Devil’s Gap, Polaris Promontory, and as usual carried along a lot of fine drifted snow, continuing during the day. Their heavy loads made the dogs travel at a slow walk, otherwise, no doubt, both Jewell and Ellis must have been left behind or carried on the sledges. They went into camp on a hard snow-drift.

After an uncomfortable night, with the mercury at 45° below zero, they left camp and followed the old trail, as on the previous day, jolting along with little difficulty in the rubble-ice, the dogs doing admirably, 247 bracing themselves to the effort at bad places, like so many men.

They reached Depot B at 2.50 P. M., and pitched the tents, this making the tenth time that Lockwood had crossed the straits above Fort Conger.

The traveling was tedious and slow, but they reached Depot A at noon, stopping only half an hour, and arrived at Fort Conger in the afternoon. Everything there was quiet as the grave. “General Grant” was the only one, man or beast, that knew of their approach and came out to meet them. Even when they passed the windows and reached the door, no one saw or heard them, and Lockwood walked in on Lieutenant Greely like a ghost, and simply said: “Well, I’m back again; open water at Black Horn Cliffs.” Some of his further reflections were to this effect:

“Do I take up my pen to write the humiliating word failed? I do, and bitter is the dose, although it is now a week since first I tasted it. My return here, the inaction after two and a half weeks of activity, and the monotony, not to mention the disappointment of Lieutenant Greely, make it fresh as when first mixed. I tried yesterday and to-day to induce Lieutenant Greely to let me go out again, but he says this is our last year here, that I still have last year’s work to fall back on, and, above all, that it is not prudent. I have a scheme by which I could travel four days beyond the farthest of ’82, and get back here in forty-four days, leaving April 21st and returning June 3d—that is, provided an overland 248 route around the Black Horn Cliffs can be found, and provided the conditions beyond are no worse than last year. My proposal was to take the two teams, the two Esquimaux and Brainard, five sacks of pemmican, one tent, two sleeping-bags, etc., and forty-four days’ rations for the party. The five sacks would last the dogs twenty-three days, after which about eight dogs of the twenty would be killed one by one, and thus the remainder fed on the return. We should have to make long marches, it is true. Perhaps the refusal is for the best, and I still have the country southwest of the head of Archer Fiord to operate in; but I am reluctant to give up this scheme for passing 83° 24′.” Everything at the station was very quiet, and much as when they left, except that a party had been sent for the boat at Thank-God Harbor.