CHAPTER XXXI.THE DEATH OF SIMPSON.
They resumed their journey; the mind of every one was filled with newand unexpected ideas, for to meet any one in these regions is aboutthe most remarkable event that can happen. Hatteras frowned uneasily.
"The _Porpoise_!" he kept saying to himself; "what ship is that? Andwhat is it doing so near the Pole?"
At the thought, he shuddered. The doctor and Bell only thought of thetwo results which might follow the discovery of this document, thatthey might be of service in saving some one, or, possibly, that theymight be saved by them. But the difficulties, obstacles, and dangerssoon returned, and they could only think of their perilous position.
"They could only think of their perilous position."]
Simpson's condition grew worse; the doctor could not be mistaken aboutthe symptoms of a speedy death. He could do nothing; he was himselfsuffering from a painful ophthalmia, which might be accompanied bydeafness if he did not take care. The twilight at that time gave lightenough, and this light, reflected by the snow, was bad for the eyes;it was hard to protect them from the reflection, for glasses would besoon covered with a layer of ice which rendered them useless. Hencethey had to guard carefully against accident by the way, and they hadto run the risk of ophthalmia; still, the doctor and Bell coveredtheir eyes and took turns in guiding the sledge. It ran far fromsmoothly on its worn runners; it became harder and harder to drag it;their path grew more difficult; the land was of volcanic origin, andall cut up with craters; the travellers had been compelled graduallyto ascend fifteen hundred feet to reach the top of the mountains. Thetemperature was lower, the storms were more violent, and it was asorry sight to see these poor men on these lonely peaks.
They were also made sick by the whiteness of everything; the uniformbrilliancy tired them; it made them giddy; the earth seemed to wavebeneath their feet with no fixed point on the immense white surface;they felt as one does on shipboard when the deck seems to be givingway beneath the foot; they could not get over the impression, and thepersistence of the feeling wearied their heads. Their limbs grewtorpid, their minds grew dull, and often they walked like men halfasleep; then a slip or a sudden fall would rouse them for a fewmoments from their sluggishness.
January 25th they began to descend the steep slopes, which was evenmore fatiguing; a false step, which it was by no means easy to avoid,might hurl them down into deep ravines where they would certainly haveperished. Towards evening a violent tempest raged about the snowysummit; it was impossible to withstand the force of the hurricane;they had to lie down on the ground, but so low was the temperaturethat they ran a risk of being frozen to death at once.
Bell, with Hatteras's aid, built with much difficulty a snow-house, inwhich the poor men sought shelter; there they partook of a fewfragments of pemmican and a little hot tea; only four gallons ofalcohol were left; and they had to use this to allay their thirst, forsnow cannot be absorbed if taken in its natural state; it has to bemelted first. In the temperate zone, where the cold hardly ever sinksmuch below the freezing-point, it can do no harm; but beyond the PolarCircle it is different; it reaches so low a temperature that the barehand can no more touch it than it can iron at a white heat, and this,although it is a very poor conductor of heat; so great is thedifference of temperature between it and the stomach that itsabsorption produces real suffocation. The Esquimaux prefer severethirst to quenching it with this snow, which does not replace water,and only augments the thirst instead of appeasing it. The only way thetravellers could make use of it was by melting it over thespirit-lamp.
At three in the morning, when the tempest was at its height, thedoctor took his turn at the watch; he was lying in a corner of the hutwhen a groan of distress from Simpson attracted his attention; hearose to see to him, but in rising he hit his head sharply against theicy roof; without paying any attention to that, he bent over Simpsonand began to rub his swollen, discolored legs; after doing this for aquarter of an hour he started to rise, and bumped his head again,although he was on his knees.
"That's odd," he said to himself.
He raised his hand above his head; the roof was perceptibly sinking.
"Great God!" he cried; "wake up, my friends!"
At his shouts Hatteras and Bell arose quickly, striking their headsagainst the roof; they were in total darkness.
"We shall be crushed!" said the doctor; "let's get out!"
And all three, dragging Simpson after them, abandoned their dangerousquarters; and it was high time, for the blocks of ice, ill puttogether, fell with a loud crash.
The poor men found themselves then without shelter against thehurricane. Hatteras attempted to raise the tent, but it wasimpossible, so severe was the wind, and they had to shelter themselvesbeneath the canvas, which was soon covered with a thick layer of snow;but this snow prevented the radiation of their warmth and kept themfrom being frozen to death.
The storm lasted all night; Bell, when he was harnessing thehalf-starved dogs, noticed that three of them had begun to eat theleather straps; two were very sick and seemed unable to go on. Still,they set out as well as they could; they had sixty miles between themand the point they wished to reach.
On the 26th, Bell, who was ahead, shouted suddenly to his companions.They ran towards him, and he pointed with astonishment to a gunresting on a piece of ice.
"A gun!" cried the doctor.
Hatteras took it; it was in good condition, and loaded.
"The men of the _Porpoise_ can't be far off."
Hatteras, as he was examining the gun, noticed that it was of Americanmake; his hands clinched nervously its barrel.
"Forward!" he said calmly.
They continued to descend the mountains. Simpson seemed deprived ofall feeling; he had not even strength left to moan.
The tempest continued to rage; the sledge went on more and moreslowly; they made but a few miles in twenty-four hours, and, in spiteof the strictest economy, their supplies threatened to give out; butso long as enough was left to carry them back, Hatteras pushed on.
On the 27th they found, partly buried beneath the snow, a sextant andthen a flask, which contained brandy, or rather a piece of ice, in themiddle of which all the spirit of the liquor had collected in the formof snow; it was of no use.
Evidently, without meaning it, Hatteras was following in the wake ofsome great disaster; he went on by the only possible route, collectingthe traces of some terrible shipwreck. The doctor kept a sharp lookoutfor other cairns, but in vain.
Sad thoughts beset him: in fact, if he should discover these wretches,of what service could he be to them? He and his companions werebeginning to lack everything; their clothing was torn, their supplieswere scanty. If the survivors were many, they would all starve todeath. Hatteras seemed inclined to flee from them! Was he notjustified, since the safety of the crew depended upon him? Ought he toendanger the safety of all by bringing strangers on board?
But then strangers were men, perhaps their countrymen! Slight as wastheir chance of safety, ought they to be deprived of it? The doctorwanted to get Bell's opinion; but Bell refused to answer. His ownsufferings had hardened his heart. Clawbonny did not dare askHatteras: so he sought aid from Providence.
Towards the evening of that day, Simpson appeared to be failing fast;his cold, stiff limbs, his impeded breathing, which formed a mistabout his head, his convulsive movements, announced that his last hourhad come. His expression was terrible to behold; it was despairing,with a look of impotent rage at the captain. It contained a wholeaccusation, mute reproaches which were full of meaning, and perhapsdeserved.
Hatteras did not go near the dying man. He avoided him, more silent,more shut into himself than ever!
The following night was a terrible one; the violence of the tempestwas doubled; three times the tent was thrown over, and snow was blownover the suffering men, blinding them, and wounding them with thepieces torn from the neighboring masses. The dogs barked incessantly.Simpson was exposed to all the inclemency of the w
eather. Bellsucceeded in again raising the canvas, which, if it did not protectthem from the cold, at least kept off the snow. But a sudden squallblew it down for the fourth time and carried it away with a fierceblast.
"Ah, that is too much!" shouted Bell.
"Courage, courage!" answered the doctor, stooping down to escape beingblown away.
Simpson was gasping for breath. Suddenly, with a last effort, he halfrose, stretched his clinched fist at Hatteras, who was gazing steadilyat him, uttered a heart-rending cry, and fell back dead in the midstof his unfinished threat.
"Suddenly, with a last effort, he half rose."]
"Dead!" said the doctor.
"Dead!" repeated Bell.
Hatteras, who was approaching the corpse, drew back before theviolence of the wind.
He was the first of the crew who succumbed to the murderous climate,the first to offer up his life, after incalculable sufferings, to thecaptain's persistent obstinacy. This man had considered him anassassin, but Hatteras did not quail before the accusation. But atear, falling from his eyes, froze on his pale cheek.
The doctor and Bell looked at him in terror. Supported by his longstaff, he seemed like the genius of these regions, straight in themidst of the fierce blast, and terrible in his stern severity.
He remained standing, without stirring, till the first rays of thetwilight appeared, bold and unconquerable, and seeming to defy thetempest which was roaring about him.