<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
<div class='chaptertitle'>AN IMPORTANT MOVEMENT.</div>
<div class='cap'>IT was now well into July. The last proposed
survey was made, and all hands were on shipboard.
But the arctic fetters still bound the "Advance,"
with no signs of loosening. The garb of
midwinter was yet covering land and sea, and in
every breeze there was a dismal whisper to the explorers
of another winter in the ice. The thought
was appalling to both officers and men. They
had neither health, food, nor fuel for such an experience.
To abandon the vessel and try to escape
with the boats and sledges was impossible in
the prostrate condition of the men.</div>
<p>Having carefully studied the situation Dr. Kane
resolved to try to reach Beechy Island, and thus
communicate with the British exploring expedition,
or by good luck with some whaler, and so secure
relief. This island we have often visited in our
voyages with the "Arctic Heroes." It is, it will
be recollected, at the mouth of Wellington Channel.</p>
<p>When this plan was announced to the officers it
was approved cordially. Both officers and men
were ready to volunteer to accompany him; he
chose five only—M'Gary, Morton, Riley, Hickey,
and Hans. Their boat was the old "Forlorn<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</SPAN></span>
Hope." The outfit was the best possible, though
poor enough. The "Hope" was mounted on the
sledge "Faith;" the provisions were put on a
"St. John's sledge." The "Faith" started off
ahead; the smaller sledge, to which Dr. Kane and
two of the men attached themselves, followed.</p>
<p>It took five days of incessant toil, with many
head flows, to reach the water and launch the
"Hope," though the distance from the brig was
only twenty miles.</p>
<p>The boat behaved well, and they reached Littleton
Island, where they were rejoiced to see numerous
ducks. Watching their course as they flew
away, the explorers were led to several islets,
whose rocky ledges were covered with their nests,
and around which they hovered in clouds. The
young birds were taking their first lesson in flying,
or were still nestling under their mothers' wings.
In a few hours over two hundred birds were taken,
the gun bringing down several at one shot, and
others were knocked over with stones. But the
men were not the only enemies of the ducks.
Near by was a settlement of a large, voracious species
of gull. They swooped down, seized, gobbled
up, and bore away to their nests the young
eiders, without seeming to doubt that they were
doing a fair and, to themselves, a pleasant business.
The gulls would seize the little eiders with
their great yellow bills, throw their heads up, and
then their victims would disappear down their
throats, and in a few moments after they would
be ejected into their nests and go down the throats<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</SPAN></span>
of their young. The ducks fought the gulls bravely
in the interests of their brood, but the victory
was with the stronger.</p>
<p>Our voyagers pitied, of course, the bereaved
eider mothers, despised the cormorant gulls, but
gladly increased their stock of needed provisions
with both. They filled four large india rubber
bags with these sea-fowl after cleaning and rudely
boning them.</p>
<p>Leaving this profitable camping place, the boat
was soon in the open sea-way. One day's pleasant
sailing was quite as much in that way as experience
taught them to expect. A violent storm
arose, the waves ran high, and their clumsy boat,
trembling under the strain, was in danger of sinking
at any moment. The safety of the whole
company depended entirely upon the skill and
nerve of M'Gary. For twenty-two successive
hours he held in his strong grasp the steering oar
and kept the head of the boat to the sea. A break
of the oar or a slip from his hand and all was
lost! They finally grappled an old floe in a
slightly sheltered place, and rode out the storm.</p>
<p>For twelve days heroic exertions were made to
get the boat through the pack which now beset
them, with the view of working south and west. Little
progress was made and the men, wet, weary, and
worn, began to fail. In view of this state of things
the commander directed his course to Northumberland
Island, near which they were coasting.
Here they found three recently occupied, but now
forsaken, Esquimo huts. The foxes were abundant,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</SPAN></span>
and their young ones greeted the strangers
with vociferous barking. They found here, too,
what was more valuable—the scurvy grass. Rest,
fresh fowl, and cochlearia greatly refreshed the
whole party. Seeing the utter impossibility of going
south, they made the best of their way back to
the brig. It was a sad and joyful meeting with
their old comrades. Their return safely was joyful,
but the return spoke of another winter.</p>
<p>By great exertions the brig was loosened from
her icy cradle and warped to a position more favorable
for an escape should the open water reach
the vicinity. On the seventeenth of August, instead
of a glad breaking up of the old ice, came
the formation of new ice, thick enough to bear a
man. The question of an escape of the brig
seemed settled. The allowance of wood was fixed
to six pounds a meal; this gave them coffee
twice a day and soup, once. Darkness was ahead,
and if the fuel utterly failed it would be doubly
cheerless. The Sabbath rest and devotions became
more solemn. The prayer, "Lord, accept
our gratitude and bless our undertakings," was
changed to, "Lord, accept our gratitude and restore
us to our homes."</p>
<p>Affairs looked so dark that Dr. Kane deemed it
wise to leave a record of the expedition on some
conspicuous spot. A position was selected on a
high cliff which commanded an extensive view
over the icy waste. On its broad, rocky face the
words, "'Advance,' A. D. 1853-54," were painted
in large letters which could be read afar off. A<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</SPAN></span>
pyramid of heavy stones was built above it and
marked with a cross. Beneath it they reverently
buried the bodies of their deceased companions.
Near this a hole was worked into the rock, and a
paper, inclosed in a glass vessel sealed with lead,
was deposited. On this paper was written the
names of the officers and crew, the results in general
thus far of the expedition, and their present
condition. They proposed to add to the deposit
a paper containing the date of their departure,
should they ever get away, and showing their plans
of escape.</p>
<p>Now, more earnestly than ever, the winter and
what to do was looked in the face. Some thought
that an escape to South Greenland was still possible,
and even the best thing to do. The question
of detaching a part of the company to make the
experiment was debated, but the commander arrived
at a settled conviction that such an enterprise
was impracticable.</p>
<p>In the mean time the ice and tides were closely
examined for a considerable distance, for the
slightest evidence of a coming liberation of the
poor ice-bound craft.</p>
<p>As early as August twenty-fourth all hopes of
such a liberation seemed to have faded from
every mind. The whole company, officers and
crew, were assembled in council. The commander
gave the members his reasons in full for deeming
it wise to stand by the vessel. He then gave
his permission for any part of the company who
chose to do so to depart on their own responsibility.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</SPAN></span>
He required of such to renounce in writing
all claims upon the captain and those who remained.
The roll was then called, and nine out
of the seventeen decided to make the hazardous
experiment. At the head of this party was Dr.
Hayes and Petersen. Besides the hope of a successful
escape, they were influenced in the course
they were taking by the thought that the quarters
in the brig were so straitened that the health and
comfort of those remaining would be increased,
and the causes of disease and death diminished by
their departure; and still further, if the withdrawing
party perished, an equal number was likely to
die if all remained.</p>
<p>The decision having been made, Dr. Kane gave
them a liberal portion of the resources of the
brig, a good-bye blessing, with written assurances
of a brother's welcome should they return. They
left August twenty-eight.</p>
<p>Those who remained with Dr. Kane were Brooks,
M'Gary, Wilson, Goodfellow, Morton, Ohlsen,
Hickey, and Hans. The situation of these was
increasedly dreary on the departure of half of
their companions. They felt the necessity of immediate
systematic action to drive away desponding
thoughts, as well as to make the best possible
preparation for the coming struggle with darkness,
cold, poverty, and disease. The discipline of the
vessel, with all its formality of duties, was strictly
maintained. The ceremonies of the table, the
religious services, the regular watching, in which
every man took his turn unless prevented by sickness,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</SPAN></span>
the scientific observations of the sky, the
weather and the tides, the detailed care of the fire
and the lights, all went on as if there was no burdens
of mind to embarrass them.</p>
<p>In view of the small stock of fuel, they commenced
turning the brig into something like an Esquimo
igloë or hut. A space in the cabin measuring
twenty feet by eighteen was set off as a room
for all hands. Every one then went to work, and,
according to his measure of strength, gathered,
moss. With this an inner wall was made for the
cabin, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. The
floor itself was calked with plaster of Paris and
common paste, then two inches of Manilla oakum
was thrown over it, and upon this a canvas carpet
was spread. From this room an avenue three feet
high, and two and a half feet wide, was made. It
was twelve feet long, and descended four feet,
opening into the hold. It was moss-lined, and
closed with a door at each end. It answered to
the <i>tossut</i> of the Esquimo hut, or the sort of tunnel
through which they creep into their one room.
All ingress and egress of our explorers were
through this avenue on their hands and knees.
From the dark hold they groped their way to the
main hatchway, up which, by a stairway of boxes,
they ascended into the open air.</p>
<p>The quarter-deck also was well padded with
turf and moss. When this was done, no frost king
but the one presiding over the polar regions could
have entered. Even he had to drop his crown of
icicles at the outer door of the avenue.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The next step was to secure, so far as possible, a
supply of fuel for the coming darkness. A small
quantity of coal yet remained for an emergency.
They began now, September tenth, to strip off
some of the extra planking outside of the deck,
and to pile it up for stove use.</p>
<p>Having thus put the brig itself into winter trim,
they went diligently to work to arrange its immediate
vicinity on the floe. Their beef-house came
first, which was simply a carefully stowed pile of
barrels containing their water-soaked beef and
pork. Next was a kind of block-house, made
of the barrels of flour, beans, and dried apples.
From a flag-staff on one corner of this fluttered a
red and white ensign, which gave way on Sundays
to a Grinnell flag. From the block-house opened
a traveled way, which they called New London
Avenue. On this were the boats. Around all this
was a rope barrier, which said to the outside world,
Thus far only shalt thou come! Outside of this
was a magnificent hut made of barrel frames and
snow, for the special use of Esquimo visitors. It
was in great danger of a tearing down for its
coveted wood.</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</SPAN></span></p>
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