CHAPTER XXVII.THE GREAT COLD AT CHRISTMAS.
For a moment he had a feeling of despair. The thought of death, anddeath by cold, appeared in all its horror; this last piece of coalburned with an ominous splutter; the fire seemed about to go out, andthe temperature of the room fell noticeably. But Johnson went to getsome of the new fuel which the marine animals had furnished to them,and with it he filled the stove; he added to it some tow filled withfrozen oil, and soon obtained sufficient heat. The odor was almostunendurable; but how get rid of it? They had to get used to it.Johnson agreed that his plan was defective, and that it would not beconsidered a success in Liverpool.
"And yet," he added, "this unpleasant smell will, perhaps, producegood results."
"What are they?" asked the carpenter.
"It will doubtless attract the bears this way, for they are fond ofthe smell."
"Well," continued Bell, "what is the need of having bears?"
"Bell," replied Johnson, "we can't count on seals any longer; they'regone away, and for a long time; if bears don't come in their place tosupply us with their share of fuel, I don't know what is to become ofus."
"True, Johnson, our fate is very uncertain; our position is a mostalarming one. And if this sort of fuel gives out, I don't see how--"
"There might be another--"
"Another?" asked Bell.
"Yes, Bell! in despair on account of--but the captain would never--butyet we shall perhaps have to come to it."
And Johnson shook his head sadly, and fell to thinking gloomily. Belldid not interrupt him. He knew that the supply of fat, which it hadbeen so hard to acquire, would only last a week, even with thestrictest economy.
The boatswain was right. A great many bears, attracted by the scent,were seen to leeward of the _Forward_; the healthy men gave chase; butthese animals are very swift of foot, and crafty enough to escape moststratagems; it was impossible to get near them, and the most skilfulgunners could not hit them.
The crew of the brig was in great danger of dying from the cold; itcould not withstand, for forty-eight hours, such a temperature aswould exist in the common-room. Every one looked forward with terrorto getting to the end of the fuel.
Now this happened December 20th, at three o'clock in the afternoon;the fire went out; the sailors, grouped about the empty stove, gazedat one another with haggard eyes. Hatteras remained without moving inhis corner; the doctor, as usual, paced up and down excitedly; he didnot know what was to be done.
The temperature in the room fell at once to -7 degrees.
But if the doctor was baffled and did not know what they should turntheir hands to, others knew very well. So Shandon, cold and resolute,Pen, with wrath in his eyes, and two or three of his companions, suchas he could induce to accompany him, walked towards Hatteras.
"Captain!" said Shandon.
Hatteras, absorbed in his thoughts, did not hear him.
"Captain!" repeated Shandon, touching him with his hand.
Hatteras arose.
"Sir," he said.
"Captain, the fire is out."
"Well?" continued Hatteras.
"If you intend that we shall freeze to death," Shandon went on withgrim irony, "we should be glad if you would tell us."
"My intention," answered Hatteras with a deep voice, "is that everyman shall do his duty to the end."
"There's something superior to duty, Captain," answered his firstofficer, "and that is the right of self-preservation. I repeat it, wehave no fire; and if this goes on, in two days not one of us will bealive."
"I have no wood," answered Hatteras, gloomily.
"Well," shouted Pen, violently, "when the wood gives out, we must gocut it where it grows!"
Hatteras grew pale with anger.
"Where is that?" he asked.
"On board," answered the sailor, insolently.
"On board!" repeated the captain, with clinched fists and sparklingeyes.
"Of course," answered Pen, "when the ship can't carry the crew, theship ought to be burned."
At the beginning of this sentence Hatteras had grasped an axe; at itsend, this axe was raised above Pen's head.
"Wretch!" he cried.
The doctor sprang in front of Pen, and thrust him back; the axe fellon the floor, making a deep gash. Johnson, Bell, and Simpson gatheredaround Hatteras, and seemed determined to support him. But plaintive,grievous cries arose from the berths, transformed into death-beds.
"Fire, fire!" they cried, shivering beneath their now insufficientcovering.
Hatteras by a violent effort controlled himself, and after a fewmoments of silence, he said calmly,--
"If we destroy the ship, how shall we get back to England?"
"Sir," answered Johnson, "perhaps we can without doing any materialdamage burn the less important parts, the bulwarks, the nettings--"
"The small boats will be left," said Shandon; "and besides, why mightwe not make a smaller vessel out of what is left of the old one?"
"Never!" answered Hatteras.
"But--" interposed many of the men, shouting together.
"We have a large quantity of spirits of wine," suggested Hatteras;"burn all of that."
"All right; we'll take the spirits of wine!" answered Johnson,assuming an air of confidence which he was far from feeling.
And with the aid of long wicks, dipped into this liquid of which thepale flame licked the walls of the stove, he was able to raise thetemperature of the room a few degrees.
In the following days the wind came from the south again and thethermometer rose; the snow, however, kept falling. Some of the menwere able to leave the ship for the driest hours of the day; butophthalmia and scurvy kept most of them on board; besides, neitherhunting nor fishing was possible.
But this was only a respite in the fearful severity of the cold, andon the 25th, after a sudden change of wind, the frozen mercurydisappeared again in the bulb of the instrument; then they had toconsult the spirit-thermometer, which does not freeze even in the mostintense colds.
The doctor, to his great surprise, found it marking -66 degrees.Seldom has man been called upon to endure so low a temperature.
The ice stretched in long, dark lines upon the floor; a dense mistfilled the room; the dampness fell in the form of thick snow; the mencould not see one another; their extremities grew cold and blue; theirheads felt as if they wore an iron band; and their thoughts grewconfused and dull, as if they were half delirious. A terrible symptomwas that their tongues refused to articulate a sound.
From the day the men threatened to burn the ship, Hatteras would walkfor hours upon the deck, keeping watch. This wood was flesh and bloodto him. Cutting a piece from it would have been like cutting off alimb. He was armed, and he kept constant guard, without minding thecold, the snow, or the ice, which stiffened his clothing as if itcovered it with a granite cuirass. Duke understood him, and followedhim, barking and howling.
"He was armed, and he kept constant guard, withoutminding the cold, the snow, or the ice."]
Nevertheless, December 25th he went down into the common-room. Thedoctor, with all the energy he had left, went up to him and said,--
"Hatteras, we are going to die from want of fire!"
"Never!" said Hatteras, knowing very well what request he wasrefusing.
"We must," continued the doctor, mildly.
"Never!" repeated Hatteras more firmly; "I shall never give myconsent! Whoever wishes, may disobey me."
Thus was permission given them. Johnson and Bell hastened to the deck.Hatteras heard the wood of the brig crashing under the axe, and wept.
That was Christmas Day, the great family festival in England, onespecially devoted to the amusement of the children. What a painfulrecollection was that of the happy children gathered about the greenChristmas tree! Every one recalled the huge pieces of roast meat, cutfrom the fattened ox, and the tarts, the mince-pies, and otherluxuries so dear to the English heart! But here was nothing butsuffering, despair, and wretchedne
ss, and for the Christmas log, thesepieces of a ship lost in the middle of the frigid zone!
Nevertheless, under the genial influence of the fire, the spirits andstrength of the men returned; the hot tea and coffee brought great andimmediate consolation, and hope is so firm a friend of man, that theyeven began to hope for some luckier fate. It was thus that the year1860 passed away, the early winter of which had so interfered withHatteras's plans.
Now it happened that this very New Year's Day was marked by anunexpected discovery. It was a little milder than the previous dayshad been; the doctor had resumed his studies; he was reading SirEdward Belcher's account of his expedition in the polar regions.Suddenly, a passage which he had never noticed before filled him withastonishment; he read it over again; doubt was no longer possible.
Sir Edward Belcher states that, having come to the end of Queen'sChannel, he found there many traces of the presence of men. He says:--
"There are remains of dwellings far superior to what can be attributedto the savage habits of the wandering tribes of Esquimaux. The wallsare firmly placed on deep-dug foundations; the inside, covered with athick layer of gravel, has been paved. Skeletons of moose, reindeer,and seals abound. We found coal there."
At these last words an idea occurred to the doctor; he took his bookand ran to tell Hatteras.
"Coal!" shouted the captain.
"Yes, Hatteras, coal; that is to say, our preservation!"
"Coal, on this lonely shore!" continued Hatteras; "no, that'simpossible!"
"How can you doubt it, Hatteras? Belcher would not have mentioned itif he had not been sure, without having seen it with his own eyes."
"Well, what then, Doctor?"
"We are not a hundred miles from the place where Belcher saw thiscoal! What is a journey of a hundred miles? Nothing. Longerexpeditions have often been made on the ice, and with the cold asintense. Let us go after it, Captain!"
"We'll go!" said Hatteras, who had made up his mind quickly; and withhis active imagination he saw the chance of safety.
Johnson was informed of the plan, of which he approved highly; he toldhis companions; some rejoiced, others heard of it with indifference.
"Coal on these shores!" said Wall from his sick-bed.
"We'll let them go," answered Shandon, mysteriously.
But before they had begun to make preparations for the trip, Hatteraswanted to fix the position of the _Forward_ with the utmostexactitude. The importance of this calculation it is easy to see. Onceaway from the ship, it could not be found again without knowing itsposition precisely.
So Hatteras went up on deck; he took observations at different momentsof several lunar distances, and the altitude of the principal stars.He found, however, much difficulty in doing this, for when thetemperature was so low, the glass and the mirrors of the instrumentwere covered with a crust of ice from Hatteras's breath; more thanonce his eyelids were burned by touching the copper eye-pieces. Still,he was able to get very exact bases for his calculations, and hereturned to the common-room to work them out. When he had finished, heraised his head with stupefaction, took his chart, marked it, andlooked at the doctor.
"Well?" asked the latter.
"What was our latitude when we went into winter-quarters?"
"Our latitude was 78 degrees 15 minutes, and the longitude 95 degrees35 minutes, exactly the pole of cold."
"Well," added Hatteras in a low voice, "our ice-field is drifting! Weare two degrees farther north and farther west,--at least threehundred miles from your coal-supply!"
"And these poor men who know nothing about it!" cried the doctor.
"Not a word!" said Hatteras, raising his finger to his lips.