"See," said he one day to Johnson,--"see those flocks of birds flying south! How they fly and cry adieu!"

"Yes, Dr. Clawbonny," answered Johnson, "something has told them it was time to go, and they are off."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"More than one of our men, Johnson, would be glad to imitate them, I fancy."

"They are timid fellows, Doctor; what a bird can't do, a man ought to try! Those birds have no supply of food, as we have, and they must support themselves elsewhere. But sailors, with a good deck under the feet, ought to go to the end of the world."

"You hope, then, that Hatteras will succeed in his projects?"

"He will succeed, Doctor."

"I agree with you, Johnson, even if only one faithful man accompanies him--"

"There will be two of us!"

"Yes, Johnson," the doctor answered, pressing the brave sailor's hand.

Prince Albert's Land, along which the _Forward_ was now coasting, is also called Grinnell's Land; and although Hatteras, from his dislike to Americans, never was willing to give it this name, nevertheless, it is the one by which it is generally known. This is the reason of this double t.i.tle: at the same time that the Englishman Penny gave it the name of Prince Albert, the captain of the _Rescue_, Lieutenant DeHaven, named it Grinnell's Land, in honor of the American merchant who had fitted out the expedition in New York.

As the brig followed the coast it met with serious difficulties, going sometimes under sail, sometimes under steam. August 18th, Mount Britannia was sighted through the mist, and the next day the _Forward_ cast anchor in Northumberland Bay. The ship was completely protected.

CHAPTER XXIII.

ATTACKED BY THE ICE.

Hatteras, after seeing to the anchorage of the ship, returned to his cabin, took out his chart, and marked his position on it very carefully; he found himself in lat.i.tude 76 57', and longitude 99 20', that is to say, only three minutes from lat.i.tude 77. It was here that Sir Edward Belcher pa.s.sed his first winter with the _Pioneer_ and _a.s.sistance_. It was from here that he organized his sledge and canoe expeditions; he discovered Table Island, North Cornwall, Victoria Archipelago, and Belcher Channel. Having gone beyond lat.i.tude 78, he saw the coast inclining towards the southeast. It seemed as if it ought to connect with Jones's Strait, which opens into Baffin's Bay.

But, says the report, an open sea, in the northwest, "stretched as far as the eye could reach."

Hatteras gazed with emotion at that portion of the charts where a large white s.p.a.ce marked unknown regions, and his eyes always returned to the open polar sea.

"After so many statements," he said to himself,--"after the accounts of Stewart, Penny, and Belcher, doubt is impossible! These bold sailors saw, and with their own eyes! Can I doubt their word? No! But yet if this sea is closed by an early winter-- But no, these discoveries have been made at intervals of several years; this sea exists, and I shall find it! I shall see it!"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Hatteras went upon the quarter-deck. A dense mist enveloped the _Forward_; from the deck one could hardly see the top of the mast.

Nevertheless, Hatteras ordered the ice-master below, and took his place; he wanted to make use of the first break in the fog to look at the horizon in the northwest.

Shandon took occasion to say to the second mate,--

"Well, Wall, and the open sea?"

"You were right, Shandon," answered Wall, "and we have only six weeks'

coal in the bunkers."

"The doctor will invent some scientific way," continued Shandon, "of heating us without fuel. I've heard of making ice with fire; perhaps he will make fire with ice."

Shandon returned to his cabin, shrugging his shoulders.

The next day, August 20th, the fog lifted for a few minutes. From the deck they saw Hatteras in his lofty perch gazing intently towards the horizon; then he came down without saying a word and ordered them to set sail; but it was easy to see that his hopes had been once more deceived.

The _Forward_ heaved anchor and resumed her uncertain path northward.

So wearisome was it that the main-topsail and fore-topsail yards were lowered with all their rigging; the masts were also lowered, and it was no longer possible to place any reliance on the varying wind, which, moreover, the winding nature of the pa.s.ses made almost useless; large white ma.s.ses were gathering here and there in the sea, like spots of oil; they indicated an approaching thaw; as soon as the wind began to slacken, the sea began to freeze again, but when the wind arose this young ice would break and disperse. Towards evening the thermometer fell to 17.

When the brig arrived at the end of a closed pa.s.s, it rushed on at full steam against the opposing obstacle. Sometimes they thought her fairly stopped; but some unexpected motion of the ice-streams would open a new pa.s.sage into which she would plunge boldly; during these stoppages the steam would escape from the safety-valves and fall on the deck in the form of snow. There was another obstacle to the progress of the brig; the ice would get caught in the screw, and it was so hard that the engine could not break it; it was then necessary to reverse the engines, turn the brig back, and send some men to free the snow with axes and levers; hence arose many difficulties, fatigues, and delays.

It went on in this way for thirteen days; the _Forward_ advanced slowly through Penny Strait. The crew murmured, but obeyed; they knew that retreat was now impossible. The advance towards the north was less perilous than a return to the south; it was time to think of going into winter-quarters.

The sailors talked together about their condition, and one day they even began to talk with Shandon, who, they knew, was on their side. He so far forgot his duty as an officer as to allow them to discuss in his presence the authority of his captain.

"So you say, Mr. Shandon," asked Gripper, "that we can't go back now?"

"No, it's too late," answered Shandon.

"Then," said another sailor, "we need only look forward to going into winter-quarters?"

"It's our only resource! No one would believe me--"

"The next time," said Pen, who had returned to duty, "they will believe you."

"Since I sha'n't be in command--" answered Shandon.

"Who can tell?" remarked Pen. "John Hatteras is free to go as far as he chooses, but no one is obliged to follow him."

"Just remember," resumed Gripper, "his first voyage to Baffin's Bay and what came of it!"

"And the voyage of the _Farewell_," said Clifton, "which was lost in the Spitzenberg seas under his command."

"And from which he came back alone," added Gripper.

"Alone, but with his dog," said Clifton.

"We don't care to sacrifice ourselves for the whims of that man,"

continued Pen.

"Nor to lose all the wages we've earned so hard."

They all recognized Clifton by those words.

"When we pa.s.s lat.i.tude 78," he added, "and we are not far from it, that will make just three hundred and seventy-five pounds for each man, six times eight degrees."

"But," asked Gripper, "sha'n't we lose them if we go back without the captain?"

"No," answered Clifton, "if we can prove that it was absolutely necessary to return."