The morning following our arrival in Alexandra Harbour saw us again battling with the ice in Hayes Sound, having been deluded into leaving our comfortable snug quarters by the report that the pack had drifted to the eastward, leaving a navigable channel extending to the north. The report was fallacious, but we succeeded in threading our way to the N.W. for about twenty miles, when both ships were helplessly beset, with but little hope of extrication without a shift of wind.
Many broad glaciers were in view, winding their 64 long white snaky lengths between the hills, some of which could be traced into the interior for ten or twelve miles, or until lost in illimitable space.
In twenty-four hours, the ice slackening enabled us to bore a way through, eventually emerging into a broad stream of water. How sudden and wonderful are the changes in these regions! From being closely beset, a couple of hours saw us in an apparently open sea with no ice in sight, and bowling along before a fresh southerly gale at the
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rate of seven knots. Social barometer very high! In the morning not a spoonful of water to be seen in any direction, in the evening not a vestige of ice!
Passing close to the western shore we were able to confirm our views regarding the Henry and Bache Islands of Hayes. They are undoubtedly connected, and therefore not islands; but whether they were also connected with the mainland we were not able to determine. In all probability the supposed islands are a peninsula, apparently of sandstone formation overlying trap, different to the granitic formation of the southern shore of the strait. The land appeared quite bare of vegetation, and bore a strong resemblance to the Silurian limestone formation of the land about Prince Regent Inlet, showing stratifications dipping to the northward at an angle of about 6°.
It does not do to indulge too freely in vain hopes in these regions. A period of eight hours was sufficient to cause our hopeful anticipations of a grand run to the northward to be ―considerably eased down;‖ for in that time we were again stopped by the ice, and compelled to make fast to a floe, until the pack opened sufficiently to allow us to proceed. During the run we 65 passed some very heavy floes—heavier than anything we had hitherto met, and quite sufficient in themselves to crush any unfortunate ship that should happen to get nipped between two of them.
Off Albert Head great excitement was caused by the floe, to which both ships were secured, being driven towards a large grounded iceberg. To be squeezed between the two would be fatal. Our destruction seemed inevitable. Yet we on board were helpless to avert the catastrophe. All that we could do was to prepare for a severe nip: unship the rudder, and lift the screw, and having taken every precaution to ensure the safety of the crew, in the event of the ship‘s demolition, we could only look on, and in silence witness, as we thought, the irresistible and destroying powers of the Ice-King.
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The ―Discovery‖ was at first in the most critical position, but a slight swerving of the floe relieved her from any immediate danger, whilst the same movement of the ice intensified our own.
Nearer and more swiftly were we hurried towards the grim and motionless berg, up whose sides the floe, as it came into contact with it, was seen to be literally walking and forcing its way, crumbling and falling into shapeless masses at its base.
Escape appeared impossible. It seemed hard at the very commencement of our voyage thus to lose our ship, and with it all hopes of success. Suddenly, when our fate seemed almost decided, the berg turned slightly, splitting up the floe to which we were secured and sending us clear. It was a narrow shave, and although we suffered a slight nip, no material damage was sustained.
Being myself too fully occupied with the work on 66 deck, one of my messmates kindly packed a few of my valuables together, ready to take away in case of having to abandon the ship. On going below after the ship had been secured, I found carefully packed in a haversack my journals, Bible and Prayer-Book, a few photographs, and three boxes of sardines!
It must not be supposed that we passed in idleness those days that we were beset in the ice and unable to advance. As a rule our time was more fully occupied then than when we had leads of water in which we could proceed. Steam had to be kept ready for any sudden emergency, and a constant watch had to be kept on every movement of the pack. Frequently had the ice anchors to be tripped and the vessel moved, in order to avoid bergs or floes closing in upon and nipping us. Occasionally, when the pack opened, or appeared what we called ―slack,‖ we would attempt to bore through; but as this invariably entailed a large consumption of fuel, and gave very little result, it was not resorted to more than was absolutely necessary. Every opening in the ice was taken advantage of, by which we slowly but surely made progress northwards.
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The crow‘s-nest was never deserted. In it Captain Nares might almost be said to live, rarely coming on deck even for his meals; as for a night‘s rest, such a thing to him was quite unknown. From the ―nest‖ the motions of the ice were closely scrutinized, the tides and currents were studied, and the influence of the wind on the pack ascertained. No opportunity was ever lost, and it was entirely due to this unceasing watchfulness that the expedition succeeded in advancing, although it was only inch by inch. 67
Victoria Head was reached on the morning of the 8th of August, but at the expense of damaged rudder-heads to both ships, caused by the constant backing into the ice whilst engaged in charging and breaking through slight streams that offered impediments to our advance. A detention here enabled us to pay the shore a visit. Great difficulty was experienced in landing on account of the ice-foot adhering to the land, which resembled a perpendicular frozen wall rising to the height of about twelve feet. Indeed it was more overhanging than perpendicular, as the action of the water had considerably undermined its base and therefore rendered it almost inaccessible. By the aid of a long boat-hook staff and some rope we succeeded in clambering up, at the expense of bruised hands, the jagged surface of the ice cutting like penknives. This proceeding was not unattended by a certain amount of danger, for had the ice given way we should have been precipitated into the boat, in which case we should have been extremely lucky to have escaped without a fractured bone or limb.
The loose and rugged slabs of slaty limestone of which the hills were composed made the walking very arduous, added to which a thick fog and snowstorm that overtook us rendered our climb unprofitable so far as ascertaining the nature of the ice to seaward and the prospect of pushing on were concerned. The steep cliffs surrounding this prominent headland are wasted and worn by the combined effects of snow and weather, and present the same ―battlemented‖ appearance so common to the Silurian limestone formation of the cliffs about Prince Regent Inlet and Lancaster Sound. A few fossils were collected,
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but, with the exception of some sprigs of the stunted 68 willow and a single tuft of saxifrage, the land was devoid of all vegetation. Deep ravines stretched away into the interior, entirely free from both snow and ice. Traces of former inhabitants were discovered along the beach, consisting of the site of an Eskimo settlement and a few small cairns or fox-traps.
Hitherto the traces of these interesting tribes have been continuous along the western side of Smith Sound, and tend, in my opinion, to prove conclusively that the Eskimos were in former days far more numerous than they are at the present time. What has become of them? The solution of this important ethnological question would be of the greatest interest. Have they gradually died out? or have they migrated farther south, and are now represented by the ―Arctic Highlanders,‖ and by tribes settled on both sides of Lancaster Sound who are frequently visited by our whalers?
It is certain that at some remote time there was a movement of Eskimo tribes from Asia towards Greenland in these high latitudes, for traces of their encampments have been found along the shores of the Parry group from Melville Island to Lancaster Sound, where they are still living in Dundas Harbour and in Admiralty Inlet. The late Admiral Sherard Osborn and my cousin, Mr. Clements Markham, paid great attention to this subject during the Arctic Expedition of 1850-51, and prepared a descriptive list of all the Eskimo vestiges along the whole length of the Parry group.1 We now traced similar remains 69 up the western side of the channels leading north from Smith Sound, at Cape Sabine, on the shores of Buchanan Strait, on Norman Lockyer Island, on Capes Hilgard, Louis Napoleon, Hayes, and Fraser, at Radmore Harbour, and Bellot Island. The most northern point where human remains were discovered was at Cape Beechey, in 81° 54′ N. Here our naturalist found the framework of a large wooden sledge, a stone lamp, and a snow scraper made of walrus tusk. Beyond this point there was no sign of any human being having preceded us. This is the utmost northern known limit of Eskimo wandering, and here they appear to have crossed the strait, and to have made their way
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southward on the Greenland side. The most northern permanent human habitation in the world is now at Etah, near Port Foulke, and, under present climatic conditions, it would be impossible even for the Etah Eskimo to exist at Cape Beechey, in 81° 54′ N., whither their ancestors must have wandered in remote times. There is much yet to learn respecting these marvellous wanderings along the Arctic shores; and our expedition has certainly thrown considerable new light on the question. We have fixed the most northern limit
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