Works of Jules Verne/Adventures of Captain Hatteras/The English at the North Pole/Chapter 31
CHAPTER XXXI
THE RETURN TO THE "FORWARD"
About six in the morning, the wind suddenly shifted north, and became calm. The sky cleared, and the first glimmer of twilight silvered the horizon, to be succeeded in a few days by the golden rays of the sun.
Hatteras went up to his dejected companions, and said in a gentle, sad voice:
"My friends, we are more than sixty miles still from the spot mentioned by Belcher. We have just barely enough food to last us back to the ship. To go farther would be to expose ourselves to certain death, without profit to anyone. We will retrace our steps."
"You have come to a good resolution, Hatteras, I think," said the Doctor. "I would have followed you wherever you had chosen to go: but our strength is diminishing day by day, and we can scarcely drag one leg after the other. I heartily approve of your decision."
"And you are of the same mind, Bell?" asked Hatteras.
"Yes, captain I am," was the reply.
"Very well, then," return Hatteras, "we will give ourselves two days' rest. That is not too much. The sledge is in great need of repair. I think our best plan will be to make a snow-hut, to shelter us till we are ready to begin our journey back."
This point settled, all three set to work with ardor, and soon built up a hut at the bottom of the ravine where they had last halted.
It must have cost Hatteras a tremendous struggle to relinquish his project. All this toil and trouble wasted, and one man's life into the bargain! And how would he be received by the crew, returning thus empty handed? But Hatteras felt he could not hold out longer.
He gave all his attention now to the thorough repair of the sledge. It had not more than 200 lbs. weight to carry, and was soon brought into working trim. The worn-out, tattered garments were mended, and new snow shoes and moccasins replaced the old ones, which were no longer wearable. These necessary occupations took up one entire day and the morning of another, the poor fellows resting themselves at the same time after their sore fatigues, and trying to get up their strength for the weary march back.
Ever since they had been in the hut, the Doctor had remarked Duk's strange behavior. The animal kept running in and out, and going round and round a heap of snow and ice, giving occasionally a low bark and wagging his tail impatiently, with an inquiring look at his master.
Clawbonny could not understand what ailed the dog, but at last came to the conclusion that his restlessness was caused by the sight of Simpson's corpse, which there had not been time yet to bury. He resolved to have it interred that very day, as they were to set off next morning as soon as it was light.
Bell undertook to assist, and the two, provided with mattocks, set off together to dig a deep hole in the bottom of the ravine. The heap round which Duk kept watch seemed the most favorable spot, and they proceed to lift off the ice and snow, which seemed lying in layers. After removing the snow, they attacked the ice; but at the third stroke the Doctor's mattock encountered some hard substance, which proved to be a fragment of a wine bottle. Bell, who was at work on the opposite side, turned up that same instant a crumpled-up bag, in which were some pieces of biscuit in a perfect state of preservation.
"Heigho!" exclaimed the Doctor. "What's this, I wonder?"
He called out to Hatteras, who came up immediately.
Duk still kept on barking, and scratching at the ice with his paws.
"Can we have come upon a depot of provisions?" asked the Doctor.
"Possibly," said Bell.
Hatteras advanced no opinion, but simply said:
"Go on digging."
More fragments of food soon appeared, and then a case of pemmican about a quarter full.
"If it is a depot, the bears have certainly been here before us, for see, nothing is whole!" said Hatteras.
"It is to be feared that is the case," replied Clawbonny, "for———"
He did not finish his sentence, for he was interrupted by an exclamation from Bell, and looking across, saw he had uncovered a human leg!
"A corpse!" cried the Doctor.
"It is no depot," said Hatteras; "it is a tomb."
When the corpse was entirely disinterred, it proved to be that of a young man of not more than thirty years of age. He wore the common dress of Arctic navigators, and the Doctor could not form an opinion as to the date of his death, for the body was in a state of perfect preservation.
Ere long, a second corpse was dug out, a man about fifty apparently, whose countenance bore traces of evident suffering.
"These men have never been buried!" exclaimed the Doctor. "They have met their death by just such an accident as almost befell ourselves."
"You are right, Mr. Clawbonny," replied Bell.
"Go on," said Hatteras.
Bell felt half afraid, for who could say how many more bodies might be under that heap of ice?
"Their snow hut has fallen in," said the Doctor. "Perhaps some poor fellow may be still living under the mass. Let us see."
The whole mass was speedily cleared away, and a third body dragged out; that of a man about forty. His appearance was not so cadaverous as the others, and on examining him closely, the Doctor thought he could perceive some faint tokens of life.
"He is not dead!" he exclaimed, lifting him up with Bell's assistance, and carrying him into the hut; while Hatteras stood motionless and unconcerned, contemplating the scene of the catastrophe.
The Doctor proceeded to strip the exhumed man entirely, and finding no trace of any wound about him, set to work, with Bell, to try the effect of vigorous friction with wisps of tow steeped in spirits of wine. By slow degrees they succeeded in restoring some animation, but the poor fellow was in such a state of utter exhaustion, that he was quite unable to articulate, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as if frozen.
Leaving Bell to continue the treatment, Dr. Clawbonny searched the pockets of his patient to see if he could find any letters or papers. But they were empty.
He went out to Hatteras, and found him standing with the half-burnt envelope of a letter in his hand, which he had found in the ruins of the hut. This much of the direction written on it was still legible:———
———tamont.
———orpoise.
———w York.
"Altamont!" exclaimed the Doctor. "Ship Porpoise, New York!"
"An American!" said Hatteras, with a start.
"I will save him," said the Doctor, "as sure as I'm alive, and we'll get to the bottom then of this mystery."
He returned to Altamont and redoubled his efforts, till he had the satisfaction of bringing the unfortunate man back to life, though not to consciousness. He could neither see, nor hear, nor speak. He was alive, and that was all.
Next morning Hatteras came up to the Doctor and said:
"We cannot delay our return. We must be off!"
"Let us be off by all means, Hatteras. The sledge is not loaded, we can lay this poor fellow on it, and take him with us."
"So be it," said Hatteras; "but let us bury these dead bodies first."
The unknown sailors were laid once more in their icy grave, and poor Simpson's form filled the place of Altamont. A brief prayer was spoken as a last adieu, and then the three men turned silently away, and commenced their journey towards the ship.
Two of the dogs being dead, Duk came and offered his services as plainly as a dumb beast could, and a most effective coadjutor he proved, working with the conscience and the will of a Greenlander.
The return march was unmarked by any particular incidents. February being the coldest month of the Arctic winter, the ice was uniformly hard and unbroken, and though the travelers suffered intensely from the low temperature, they had no fierce storms to contend with during its continuance.
The sun had reappeared since the 31st January, and each day rose higher above the horizon.
The Doctor and Bell were at the end of their strength, and nearly blind and lame. Poor Bell was forced to use crutches.
Altamont still breathed, but he was in a state of complete insensibility, and sometimes the Doctor despaired, till unremitting care again revived the flickering spark of life.
Hatteras thought night and day of his brig, and full of anxious forebodings and questionings as to the state in which he might find her, he hurried impatiently forward, always in advance of the others.
On the 24th of February, in the early morning, he came to a sudden stop.
About three hundred paces distant he saw a bright red glare, from which an immense volume of black smoke rose up towards the sky.
"Look at that smoke!" he shouted. His heart beat violently, and again he shouted to his companions:
"Look! Down there! All that smoke! My ship is on fire."
"It can't be the Forward," said Bell. "We are more than three miles away."
"Yes, it is," replied the Doctor. "It is the mirage which makes her seem so near us."
"Let us run," said Hatteras, rushing forward. His companions followed with what speed they could, leaving Duk to guard the sledge.
An hour afterwards and they came in sight of the vessel. It was a terrible spectacle! The ship was blazing in the midst of the icebergs which surrounded her. Flames enveloped the keel, and Hatteras could catch the sound of her cracking timbers. A few paces distant a man was seen, flinging up his arms wildly, and gazing in mute despair.
This solitary man was old Johnson. Hatteras ran towards him, exclamining in broken tones: "My ship! my ship!"
"You, captain! Is it you?" cried Johnson. "Stop! Not a step farther!"
"Tell me," said Hatteras, with a terrible look on his face.
"The villains!" replied Johnson. They set the ship on fire and started off, forty-eight hours ago!"
"Curse them!" said Hatteras fiercely.
Just then a tremendous explosion was heard which shook the whole region, and laid the icebergs flat on the ice. The flames had reached the gunpowder and blown the ship to atoms. For a minute there was a dense cloud of smoke, and then the Forward disappeared in a gulf of fire.
Bell and the Doctor came up that same instant, and found the captain overwhelmed with despair. But suddenly he roused himself, and said, in a strong, cheery voice: "Friends! the cowards have fled! Fortune favors the brave. Johnson and Bell, you have courage; Doctor you have science; I have faith. Yonder is the North Pole. Let's begin again."
Such manly, courageous words put new life into the hearts of his companions, and yet their situation was indeed terrible to contemplate. Four men, and one of them dying, forsaken and left to perish without resources in the very heart of the Polar regions.
THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN HATTERAS ARE CONTINUED IN "THE DESERT OF ICE."