Works of Jules Verne/Adventures of Captain Hatteras/The English at the North Pole/Chapter 19
CHAPTER XIX
ISLE BEECHEY
On the 25th of June the Forward sighted Cape Dundas, the north-easterly point of Prince of Wales' Island. The difficulty of navigation increased as the packs became more numerous. The distance that, in ordinary circumstances, the brig would have made in a day, took her from the 25th to the 30th of June.
Hatteras knew as well as Shandon how the coals stood: but relying on finding stores at Isle Beechey, he would not lose a moment for the sake of economy. The distance south, short as it was, had greatly delayed him; and though he had taken the precaution to start in April, he was not a whit farther on now than preceding expeditions had been at a similar period.
On the 30th of June, Cape Walker came in sight, and soon afterwards Cape Bellot, so named from the brave young French officer who perished in the English expedition. Three cheers were given to his memory as the brig passed, pushing her way through the loose floes across Barrow's Straits.
Hatteras was so afraid of missing the island that he hardly quitted his post on the deck for an instant. All that skill and sang froid, and even nautical genius, could do, he did. Fortune certainly showed him no favor, for at this time of the year he ought to have found the straits nearly free from ice; but at length, by neither sparing his steam, nor his men, nor himself, he gained his end.
On the 3rd of July the ice-master signaled land ahead to the north, and after consulting the chart Hatteras came to the conclusion that this must be Isle Beechey. Johnson's heart beat quicker as they approached, for this was not his first visit, and memory was busy with the past. He had been quartermaster on board the Phoenix, the expedition in which Lieutenant Bellot had been engaged, and Hatteras looked to him for information as to the facilities for anchorage. The weather was magnificent, and the thermometer continued steadily at 57°.
"Well, Johnson, do you recognize the place?" said the captain, as they were getting rapidly near.
"Yes, sir, it is certainly the island; but we must bear a little more to the north, the coast is more accessible there."
"But what about the huts and the stores?" asked the captain.
"Oh, you cannot see those till you get on shore. They are behind those hillocks you see there."
"'And you say you landed considerable stores there?"
"Ay! that we did, captain. It was here that the Admiralty sent me in 1853, under the command of Inglefield, with the Phoenix steamer and a transport loaded with provisions. We carried enough with us to revictual an entire expedition."
"But the commander of the Fox drew on them largely in 1855, did he not?" said Hatteras.
"Rest easy, captain, you'll see there is enough and to spare yet, and the cold has such a wonderful power of preserving food, that we shall find everything as good as the first day it was packed."
"I don't care about the provisions. I have plenty for several years. It is the fuel I am anxious about."
"Well, captain, we left more than one thousand tons of coals there, so you need not fear about that."
"We might land now, I think," said Hatteras, who had been closely watching the shore, glass in hand.
"You see yon point, sir," said Johnson. "When we have doubled that we are quite near our anchorage. Yes! it was from that very point we started on our way back to England with Lieutenant Cresswell and the twelve sick sailors belonging to the Investigator. Ah! well, we had back Lieutenant McClure safe. Poor young Bellot never saw his native land again. His is a sad story; but, captain, I think we may cast anchor now."
"Very well," said Hatteras, giving the order immediately.
The brig had just reached a little bay, sheltered by nature from the north, south, and east winds, and within a cable's length of the shore.
"Mr. Wall," said Hatteras, "get the boat ready, and six men to go with her to carry coals on board."
"Yes, sir," said Wall.
"I am going ashore in the pirogue with the Doctor and boatswain. Mr. Shandon, you will please to accompany us."
"At your service," replied Shandon.
A few minutes later all four landed on a low, rocky beach.
"You must be our guide, Johnson," said the captain. "Do you know the place again?"
"Perfectly, sir," was the reply; "but I see a monument there that is new to me."
"That!" exclaimed the Doctor; "I can give you the history of that. But let us go up to it, for I expect it will best explain itself."
They soon reached it, and the Doctor, taking off his cap reverently, said:
"This is a monument erected to Franklin and his companions."
And so it was. Lady Franklin sent a tablet of marble to Dr. Kane in 1855, and entrusted another to McClintock in 1858, to be set up in Isle Beechey. McClintock executed his commission religiously, and placed this tablet beside the funeral stone raised to the memory of Bellot by Sir John Barrow. It bore the following inscription:—
TO THE MEMORY OF
FRANKLIN, CROZIER, FITZ-JAMES
AND ALL THEIR BRAVE COMRADES,
Officers, and faithful companions, who suffered and perished for the cause of Science and the glory of their Country.
This Stone is erected near the place where they spent their last Arctic winter, and from whence they set out to triumph over difficulties or die. It betokens the hallowed memory in which they are held by admiring fellow-countrymen and friends, and the anguish, subdued by faith, of her who has lost in the leader of the expedition the most devoted and affectionate of husbands.
It is thus that He led them to the heaven above where all rest in peace.
1855.
This stone on a lonely shore of these distant regions, spoke sorrowfully to the heart. All that remained of Franklin and his brave band, so full of life and hope, was this marble block. And yet in spite of such gloomy warning, the Forward was about to rush on in the very path of the Erebus and Terror.
Hatteras was the first to rouse himself from such dangerous contemplations. He climbed hastily up a little hill, from the top of which Johnson said the storehouses could be seen.
Shandon and the Doctor rejoined them immediately; but none of the party could discover anything but a far-stretching expanse, without a trace of human habitation.
"Well, that's strange!" said Johnson.
"What now? Where are the depots?" asked Hatteras, sharply.
"I don't know—I can't see," stammered Johnson.
"You have mistaken the road perhaps," suggested the Doctor, thoughtfully.
"Yet it seems to me," said Johnson, "that it was just here———"
"Well, be quick, pray, and tell us where to go," said the impatient captain.
"Let us go down again; for I may be wrong. It is seven years ago now since I was here, and my memory may be at fault."
"Especially in a country where such monotonous uniformity prevails."
"And yet———" muttered Johnson.
Shandon made no remark.
After waiting a few minutes longer, Johnson stopped all of a sudden, and said:
"No, I am right, after all!"
"Well," replied Hatteras, looking about, "and where are they?"
"Do you see how the ground seems to swell out there," said Johnson, "just where we are standing, and can you trace the shape of these big mounds in it?"
"Well, and what's that to do with the question?" inquired the Doctor.
"These are the graves of three of Franklin's sailors," was the reply. "I'm sure of it; and a hundred paces off was the principal depot. I am not mistaken now, and if the stores are not there, it must be owing to———"
He did not venture to say what he thought; but a terrible suspicion shot through Hatteras, and made him rush impetuously forward. But where were the stores on which he had so confidently reckoned? This was the right place; but destruction, and pillage, and ruin had been at work, and not a vestige remained of the vast supplies laid up for the relief of hard bestead navigators. And who had committed these depredations? Was it the wolves and bears? No, for they would only have destroyed the provisions; but not so much as the tattered remnant of a tent was left, not a morsel of wood, nor a piece of iron; and, worse still, for the Forward at any rate, not an atom of coal! It was evident that frequent intercourse with European ships had taught the Esquimaux the value of these things, for they must have been coming back and forward ever since the Fox had touched at the island, constantly pillaging, till all trace of a storehouse had disappeared in the snow.
Hatteras was dumfounded. The Doctor shook his head and gazed silently. Shandon said nothing; but a close observer might have seen a malicious smile on his lips.
Just at this moment the men came with the boat to fetch the coal. They understood all at a glance. Shandon went up to the captain and said:
"Mr. Hatteras, I don't see the use of giving way to despair. Fortunately, we are at the entrance of Barrow's Strait, which will take us straight to Baffin's Bay."
"Mr. Shandon," replied Hatteras, "fortunately we are at the entrance to Wellington Channel, which will take us straight to the north!"
"And how are we to work the ship, sir?"
"By her sails. We have still fuel for two months, and that is more than enough for our winter's sojourn."
"You will allow me to say———" began Shandon.
"I will allow you to follow me on board, sir!" interrupted Hatteras; and, turning on his heel, he walked off to the boat, and shut himself in his cabin as soon as they reached the brig.