CHAPTER IX.ANOTHER LETTER.
The Polar Circle was crossed at last; on the 30th of April, at midday,the _Forward_ passed by Holsteinborg; picturesque mountains arose inthe east. The sea appeared almost free of ice, or, more exactly, theice could be avoided. The wind was from the southeast, and the brig,under foresail, staysail, and topsails, sailed up Baffin's Bay.
That day was exceptionally calm and the crew was able to get somerest; numerous birds were swimming and flying about the ship; amongothers, the doctor noticed some wild birds which were very like teal,with black neck, wings, and back, and a white breast; they werecontinually diving, and often remained more than forty seconds underwater.
This day would not have been marked by any new incident, if thefollowing extraordinary fact had not taken place.
At six o'clock in the morning, on returning to his cabin after hiswatch was over, Richard Shandon found on his table a letter, addressedas follows:--
_To_ COMMANDER RICHARD SHANDON,On board the _Forward_,BAFFIN'S BAY.
Shandon could not believe his eyes; but before reading it, he summonedthe doctor, James Wall, and the boatswain, and showed them the letter.
"It's getting interesting," said Johnson.
"It's delightful," thought the doctor.
"Well," cried Shandon, "at last we shall know his secret."
He tore open the envelope rapidly, and read the following:--
COMMANDER: The captain of the _Forward_ is satisfied with thecoolness, skill, and courage which the crew, officers, and you,yourself, have shown of late; he begs of you to express his thanks tothe crew.
Be good enough to sail due north towards Melville Bay, and thence tryto penetrate into Smith's Sound.
K. Z.,_Captain of the Forward_.
Monday, April 30, OFF CAPE WALSINGHAM.
"And is that all?" cried the doctor.
"That's all," answered Shandon.
The letter fell from his hands.
"Well," said Wall, "this imaginary captain says nothing about comingon board. I don't believe he ever will."
"But how did this letter get here?" asked Johnson.
Shandon was silent.
"Mr. Wall is right," answered the doctor, who had picked up theletter, and who was turning it over with hands as well as in his mind."The captain won't come on board, and for an excellent reason."
"What is it?" asked Shandon, quickly.
"Because he's on board now," answered the doctor, simply.
"Now!" exclaimed Shandon, "what do you mean?"
"How else can you explain the arrival of this letter?"
Johnson nodded approvingly.
"Impossible!" said Shandon, warmly. "I know all the men in the crew;can he have smuggled himself into their number since we left? It'simpossible, I tell you. For more than two years I've seen every one ofthem more than a hundred times in Liverpool; so your conjecture,Doctor, is untenable."
"Well, what do you admit, Shandon?"
"Everything, except that. I admit that the captain or some tool ofhis, for all I know, may have taken advantage of the darkness, themist, or whatever you please, to slip on board; we are not far fromshore; there are the kayaks of the Esquimaux which could get throughthe ice without our seeing them; so some one may have come on boardthe ship, left the letter,--the fog was thick enough to make thispossible."
"And to prevent them from seeing the brig," answered the doctor; "ifwe didn't see the intruder slip aboard the _Forward_, how could he seethe _Forward_ in the fog?"
"That's true," said Johnson.
"So I return to my explanation," said the doctor; "what do you thinkof it, Shandon?"
"Whatever you please," answered Shandon, hotly, "except that the manis on board."
"Perhaps," added Wall, "there is some man in the crew who is actingunder his instructions."
"Perhaps," said the doctor.
"But who can it be?" asked Shandon. "I've known all my men for a longtime."
"At any rate," resumed Johnson, "if this captain presents himself,whether as man or devil, we shall receive him; but there's somethingelse to be drawn from this letter."
"What is that?" asked Shandon.
"It is that we must go not only into Melville Bay, but also intoSmith's Sound."
"You are right," said the doctor.
"Smith's Sound," repeated Shandon, mechanically.
"So it's very plain," continued Johnson, "that the _Forward_ is notintended to seek the Northwest Passage, since we leave to the left,the only way towards it, that is to say, Lancaster Sound. This wouldseem to promise a difficult journey in unknown seas."
"Yes, Smith's Sound," replied Shandon; "that's the route Kane, theAmerican, took in 1853, and it was full of dangers. For a long time hewas given up for lost. Well, if we must go, we'll go. But how far? Tothe Pole?"
"And why not?" cried the doctor.
The mention of such a foolhardy attempt made the boatswain shrug hisshoulders.
"Well," said James Wall, "to come back to the captain, if he exists. Idon't see that there are any places on the coast of Greenland exceptDisco and Upernavik, where he can be waiting for us; in a few daysthat question will be settled."
"But," asked the doctor of Shandon, "are you not going to tell thecrew about this letter?"
"With the commander's permission," answered Johnson, "I should not doso."
"And why not?" asked Shandon.
"Because everything mysterious and extraordinary tends to discouragethe men; they are already very much troubled, as it is, about thenature of the journey. Now, if any supernatural circumstances shouldbecome known, it might be harmful, and perhaps at a critical moment weshould not be able to count on them. What do you think, Commander?"
"And what do you think, Doctor?" asked Shandon.
"Boatswain Johnson seems to me to reason well," answered the doctor.
"And you, James?"
"Having no better opinion, I agree with these gentlemen."
Shandon reflected for a few minutes; he reread the letter attentively.
"Gentlemen," said he, "your opinion is certainly worthy of respect,but I cannot adopt it."
"Why not, Shandon?" asked the doctor.
"Because the instructions in this letter are formal; it tells me togive the captain's thanks to the crew; now, hitherto I have strictlyobeyed his orders, in whatever way they have been given to me, and Icannot--"
"Still--" interposed Johnson, who had a warrantable dread of theeffect of such communications on the men's spirits.
"My dear Johnson," said Shandon, "I understand your objection; yourreasons are very good, but read that:--
"He begs of you to express his thanks to the crew."
"Do as he bids," replied Johnson, who was always a strictdisciplinarian. "Shall I assemble the crew on deck?"
"Yes," answered Shandon.
The news of a message from the captain was immediately whisperedthroughout the ship. The sailors took their station without delay, andthe commander read aloud the mysterious letter.
It was received with dead silence; the crew separated under theinfluence of a thousand suppositions; Clifton had plenty of materialfor any superstitious vagaries; a great deal was ascribed by him tothe dog-captain, and he never failed to salute him every time he methim.
"Didn't I tell you," he used to say to the sailors, "that he knew howto write?"
No one made any answer, and even Bell, the carpenter, would have foundit hard to reply.
Nevertheless, it was plain to every one, that if the captain was noton board, his shade or spirit was watching them; henceforth, thewisest kept their opinions to themselves.
At midday of May 1st, their observation showed them that they were inlatitude 68 degrees and longitude 56 degrees 32 minutes. Thetemperature had risen, the thermometer standing at 25 degrees abovezero.
The doctor amused himself with watching the gambols of a she-bear andtwo cubs on some pack-ice near the shore. Accompanied by Wall andSimpson, he tried to chase them in
a canoe; but she was in a verypeaceful mood, and ran away with her young, so that the doctor had togive up his attempt.
During the night a favorable breeze carried them well to the north,and soon the lofty mountains of Disco were peering above the horizon;Godharn Bay, where the governor of the Danish settlements lived, wasleft on the right. Shandon did not consider it necessary to land, andhe soon passed by the canoes of the Esquimaux, who had put out to meethim.
The island of Disco is also called Whale Island; it is from here that,on the 12th of July, 1845, Sir John Franklin wrote to the Admiraltyfor the last time, and it was also here that Captain MacClintockstopped on his way back, bringing too sure proofs of the loss of thatexpedition.
This coincidence was not unknown to the doctor; the place was one ofsad memories, but soon the heights of Disco were lost to view.
There were many icebergs on its shores, which no thaws ever melt away;this gives the island a singular appearance from the sea.
The next day, at about three o'clock, Sanderson's Hope appeared in thenortheast; land lay about fifteen miles to starboard; the mountainsappeared of a dusky red hue. During the evening many fin-backs wereseen playing in the ice, and occasionally blowing.
It was in the night of May 3d, that the doctor for the first time sawthe sun touch the horizon without setting; since January 31st itsorbit had been getting longer every day, and now there was unbrokendaylight.
For those who were unaccustomed to it, this continuance of the day isa cause of perpetual surprise, and even of weariness; it is difficultto believe how necessary the darkness of the night is for the eyes;the doctor actually suffered from the continual brilliancy, which wasincreased by the reflection from the ice.
May 5th the _Forward_ passed the sixty-second parallel. Two monthslater they would have met numerous whalers in these latitudes; but thestraits were not yet free enough to allow easy ingress into Baffin'sBay.
The next day, the brig, after passing Woman's Island, came in sight ofUpernavik, the northernmost station of Denmark in these lands.