His trembling voice, his pa.s.sionate gestures and beaming face, produced an indescribable effect. The crew, excited by its emotion before this fatal land, cried out with one voice: "To the north! To the north!"
"Yes, to the north! Safety and glory lie to the north. Heaven is for us! The wind is changing; the pa.s.s is free!"
So saying, Hatteras gave orders to turn the vessel; the sailors went to work with alacrity; the ice streams got clear little by little; the _Forward_, with all steam on, made for McClintock Channel.
Hatteras was right when he counted upon a more open sea; he followed up the supposed route taken by Franklin, sailing along the western coast of Prince of Wales"s Land, then pretty well known, whilst the opposite sh.o.r.e is still unknown. It was evident that the breaking up of the ice had taken place in the eastern locks, for this strait appeared entirely free; the _Forward_ made up for lost time; she fled along so quickly that she pa.s.sed Osborne Bay on the 14th of June, and the extreme points attained by the expeditions of 1851. Icebergs were still numerous, but the sea did not threaten to quit the keel of the _Forward_.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE NORTHERN ROUTE
The crew seemed to have returned to its habits of discipline and obedience. There was little fatiguing work to do, and they had a good deal of leisure. The temperature kept above freezing point, and it seemed as if the thaw had removed the great obstacles to navigation.
d.i.c.k, now sociable and familiar, had made great friends with Dr.
Clawbonny. But as in most friendships one friend has to give way to the other, it must be acknowledged it was not the dog. d.i.c.k did what he liked with the doctor, who obeyed him as if he were the dog. He was amiable with most of the sailors and officers on board, only by instinct, doubtless, he shunned Shandon"s society; he also kept up a grudge against Pen and Foker; he vented his hatred of them by growling at their approach. But they dare not now attack the captain"s dog--his "familiar," as Clifton called him. On the whole the crew had plucked up courage again and worked well.
"It seems to me," said James Wall one day to Richard Shandon, "that our men took the captain"s speech seriously; they no longer seem to be doubtful of success."
"The more fools they!" answered Shandon. "If they reflected, if they examined the situation, they would see that we are going out of one imprudence into another."
"But," continued Wall, "the sea is open now, and we are getting back into well-known tracks; aren"t you exaggerating a bit, Shandon?"
"No, I am not exaggerating; the dislike I feel to Hatteras is not blinding me. Have you seen the coal-holes lately?"
"No," answered Wall.
"Well, then, go and examine them: you will see how much there"s left.
He ought to have navigated under sail, and have kept the engine for currents and contrary winds; he ought only to have used his coal where he was obliged; who can tell where we shall be kept, and for how many years? But Hatteras only thinks about getting north. Whether the wind is contrary or not, he goes along at full steam, and if things go on as they are doing now, we shall soon be in a pretty pickle."
"If what you say is true, it is very serious."
"Yes, it is, because of the wintering. What shall we do without coal in a country where even the thermometer freezes?"
"But, if I am not mistaken, the captain counts upon renewing his stock of coal at Beechey Island. It appears there is a large provision there."
"And suppose we can"t reach Beechey Island, what will become of us then?"
"You are right, Shandon; Hatteras seems to me very imprudent; but why don"t you expostulate with him on the subject?"
"No," said Shandon, with ill-concealed bitterness, "I won"t say a word. It is nothing to do with me now. I shall wait to see what turns up; I shall obey orders, and not give my opinion where it isn"t wanted."
"Allow me to tell you that you are in the wrong, Shandon; you have as much interest in setting yourself against the captain"s imprudence as we have."
"He wouldn"t listen to me if I were to speak; do you think he would?"
Wall dared not answer in the affirmative, and he added--
"But perhaps he would listen to the crew."
"The crew!" answered Shandon, shrugging his shoulders; "you don"t know the crew. The men know they are nearing the 72nd parallel, and that they will earn a thousand pounds for every degree above that."
"The captain knew what he was doing when he offered them that."
"Of course he did, and for the present he can do what he likes with them."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that while they have nothing to do, and there is an open sea, they will go on right enough; but wait till difficulty and danger come, and you will see how much they"ll think about the money!"
"Then you don"t think Hatteras will succeed?"
"No, he will not; to succeed in such an enterprise there must be a good understanding between him and his officers, and that does not exist. Hatteras is a madman; all his past career proves it. Well, we shall see; perhaps circ.u.mstances will force them to give the command to a less adventurous captain."
"Still," said Wall, shaking his head, "he will always have on his side----"
"Dr. Clawbonny, a man who only cares for science, and Johnson, a sailor who only cares to obey, and perhaps two more men like Bell, the carpenter; four at the most, and we are eighteen on board! No, Wall, Hatteras has not got the confidence of his men, and he knows it, so he bribes them; he profited cleverly by the Franklin affair, but that won"t last, I tell you, and if he doesn"t reach Beechey Island he"s a lost man!"
"Suppose the crew should take it into its head----"
"Don"t tell the crew what I think," answered Shandon quickly; "the men will soon see for themselves. Besides, just now we must go north.
Who knows if Hatteras won"t find that way will bring us back sooner?
At the end of McClintock Channel lies Melville Bay, and from thence go the straits that lead to Baffin"s Bay. Hatteras must take care!
The way to the east is easier than the road to the north!"
Hatteras was not mistaken in his opinion that Shandon would betray him if he could. Besides, Shandon was right in attributing the contentment of the men to the hope of gain. Clifton had counted exactly how much each man would have. Without reckoning the captain and the doctor, who would not expect a share in the bounty-money, there remained sixteen men to divide it amongst. If ever they succeeded in reaching the Pole, each man would have 1,125 pounds--that is to say, a fortune. It would cost the captain 18,000 pounds, but he could afford it. The thoughts of the money inflamed the minds of the crew, and they were now as anxious to go north as before they had been eager to turn south. The _Forward_ during the day of June 16th pa.s.sed Cape Aworth. Mount Rawlinson raised its white peaks towards the sky; the snow and fog made it appear colossal, as they exaggerated its distance; the temperature still kept some degrees above freezing point; improvised cascades and cataracts showed themselves on the sides of the mountains, and avalanches roared down with the noise of artillery discharges. The glaciers, spread out in long white sheets, projected an immense reverberation into s.p.a.ce. Boreal nature, in its struggle with the frost, presented a splendid spectacle. The brig went very near the coast; on some sheltered rocks rare heaths were to be seen, the pink flowers lifting their heads timidly out of the snows, and some meagre lichens of a reddish colour and the shoots of a dwarf willow.
At last, on the 19th of June, at the famous seventy-third parallel, they doubled Cape Minto, which forms one of the extremities of Ommaney Bay; the brig entered Melville Bay, surnamed by Bolton Money Bay; the merry sailors joked about the name, and made Dr. Clawbonny laugh heartily. Notwithstanding a strong breeze from the northeast, the _Forward_ made considerable progress, and on the 23rd of June she pa.s.sed the 74th degree of lat.i.tude. She was in the midst of Melville Bay, one of the most considerable seas in these regions. This sea was crossed for the first time by Captain Parry in his great expedition of 1819, and it was then that his crew earned the prize of 5,000 pounds promised by Act of Parliament. Clifton remarked that there were two degrees from the 72nd to the 74th; that already placed 125 pounds to his credit. But they told him that a fortune was not worth much there, and that it was of no use being rich if he could not drink his riches, and he had better wait till he could roll under a Liverpool table before he rejoiced and rubbed his hands.
CHAPTER XIX
A WHALE IN SIGHT
Melville Bay, though easily navigable, was not free from ice; ice-fields lay as far as the utmost limits of the horizon; a few icebergs appeared here and there, but they were immovable, as if anch.o.r.ed in the midst of the frozen fields. The _Forward_, with all steam on, followed the wide pa.s.ses where it was easy to work her.
The wind changed frequently from one point of the compa.s.s to another.
The variability of the wind in the Arctic Seas is a remarkable fact; sometimes a dead calm is followed in a few minutes by a violent tempest, as the _Forward_ found to her cost on the 23rd of June in the midst of the immense bay. The more constant winds blow from off the ice-bank on to the open sea, and are intensely cold. On that day the thermometer fell several degrees; the wind veered round to the south, and violent gusts, sweeping over the ice-fields, brought a thick snow along with them. Hatteras immediately caused the sails that helped the screw to be furled, but not quickly enough to prevent his little foresail being carried away in the twinkling of an eye. Hatteras worked his ship with the greatest composure, and did not leave the deck during the tempest; he was obliged to fly before the weather and to turn westward. The wind raised up enormous waves, in the midst of which blocks of ice balanced themselves; these blocks were of all sizes and shapes, and had been struck off the surrounding ice-fields; the brig was tossed about like a child"s plaything, and morsels of the packs were thrown over her hull; at one instant she was lying perpendicularly along the side of a liquid mountain; her steel prow concentrated the light, and shone like a melting metal bar; at another she was down an abyss, plunging her head into whirlwinds of snow, whilst her screws, out of the water, turned in s.p.a.ce with a sinister noise, striking the air with their paddles. Rain mixed with the snow and fell in torrents.
The doctor could not miss such an occasion of getting wet to the skin; he remained on deck, a prey to that emotional admiration which a scientific man must necessarily feel during such a spectacle. His nearest neighbour could not have heard him speak, so he said nothing and watched; but whilst watching he was witness to an odd phenomenon, peculiar to hyperborean regions. The tempest was confined to a restricted area, and only extended for about three or four miles; the wind that pa.s.ses over ice-fields loses much of its strength and cannot carry its violence far out; the doctor perceived from time to time, through an opening in the tempest, a calm sky and a quiet sea beyond some ice-fields. The _Forward_ would therefore only have to take advantage of some channels left by the ice to find a peaceful navigation again, but she ran the risk of being thrown on to one of the moving banks which followed the movement of the swell. However, in a few hours Hatteras succeeded in getting his ship into a calm sea, whilst the violence of the hurricane spent itself at a few cables"
length from the _Forward_. Melville Bay no longer presented the same aspect; under the influence of the winds and the waves a great number of icebergs, detached from the coast, floated northward, running against one another in every direction. There were several hundreds of them, but the bay is very wide, and the brig easily avoided them.
The spectacle of these floating ma.s.ses was magnificent; they seemed to be having a grand race for it on the open sea. The doctor was getting quite excited with watching them, when the harpooner, Simpson, came up and made him look at the changing tints in the sea; they varied from a deep blue to olive green; long stripes stretched north and south in such decided lines that the eye could follow each shade out of sight. Sometimes a transparent sheet of water would follow a perfectly opaque sheet.
"Well, Mr. Clawbonny, what do you think of that?" said Simpson.