they would all perish in a few days. So I waited. Not satisfied to eat what was at hand, they must even set about cooking. They built a fire of some broken gaff-poles which they had found in the whale-boat. They had nothing to cook in but a few flat tin pans, in which they tried to fry some of the tinned meat, and also tried to make coffee and chocolate. Then some insisted on changing their clothes. At last I got started about 9 A . M .; but, as I feared, the leads were now closing, and further I feared a change of wind which would make it impossible to reach shore.
The piece of ice we were on was now caught fast between heavy ice-bergs which had grounded, and we were therefore stationary. The wind had hauled to the north-east. I had no means of taking the true bearings, but it was down quartering across the land, and it was bringing the loose ice down fast. But though it seemed to be too late, still I determined to try. At last we got the boats off, carrying every thing we could, and intending to come back for what was left; yet when we got half-way to the shore, the loose ice, which I had seen coming, crowded on our bows so that we could not get through, and we had to turn back and haul up on our floe.
Within minutes we saw the Polaris , and I was rejoiced indeed, for I thought assistance was at hand. She came around a point above us, eight or ten miles distant. Yet she did not make for us. Thinking, perhaps, that she did not know in which direction to look—though the set of the ice must have told which way it would drift (and the small ice, though it had stopped us, would not stop a ship)—I set up my flag, and laid a square of India-rubber cloth on the side of a hummock. Then, with the spy-glass, I watched her. She was under both steam and sail, so I went to work securing every thing, thinking she would soon come. I could not see any body on deck; they, if there, were not in sight. She kept along down by the land, and then, instead of steering toward us, dropped away behind what I suppose was Littleton Island. Our signal was dark, and would surely be seen at that distance on a white ice-floe. I do not know what to make of this.
I sent some of the men to the other side to keep a look-out there, and in going across they saw the Polaris behind the island, and so came back and reported; they said she was “tied up.” I did not know what to think of it; but I took my spy-glass, and running to a point where they said I could see her, sure enough there she was, tied up— at least, all her sails were furled, and there was no smoke from her stack, and she was lying head to the wind.
And now our piece of ice, which had become stationary, commenced drifting; and I did not feel right about the vessel not coming for us. I began to think she did not mean to. I could not think she was disabled, because we had so recently seen her steaming; so I told the men we must get the boats to the other side of the floe, and try and reach the land—perhaps lower down than the vessel was—so that we might eventually reach her. I told them to prepare the boats. We would leave all of our supplies behind, taking only a little provision—enough to last perhaps two or three days.
I told the men that, while they were preparing, I would run across the ice and see if there was an opportunity to take the water, or where was the best place, so that they would not have to haul the boats uselessly. I ran across as quick as I could. I was very tired, for I had eaten nothing but some biscuit and a drink of blood-soup; but I saw there was an opportunity to get through, and that seemed to renew my strength. The small ice did not now appear to be coming in fast enough to prevent our getting across. But it is astonishing how rapidly the ice can close together, and I knew we were liable to be frozen up at any moment; so I hurried back to the boats and told them “we must start immediately.”
There was a great deal of murmuring—the men did not seem to
The piece of ice we were on was now caught fast between heavy ice-bergs which had grounded, and we were therefore stationary. The wind had hauled to the north-east. I had no means of taking the true bearings, but it was down quartering across the land, and it was bringing the loose ice down fast. But though it seemed to be too late, still I determined to try. At last we got the boats off, carrying every thing we could, and intending to come back for what was left; yet when we got half-way to the shore, the loose ice, which I had seen coming, crowded on our bows so that we could not get through, and we had to turn back and haul up on our floe.
Within minutes we saw the Polaris , and I was rejoiced indeed, for I thought assistance was at hand. She came around a point above us, eight or ten miles distant. Yet she did not make for us. Thinking, perhaps, that she did not know in which direction to look—though the set of the ice must have told which way it would drift (and the small ice, though it had stopped us, would not stop a ship)—I set up my flag, and laid a square of India-rubber cloth on the side of a hummock. Then, with the spy-glass, I watched her. She was under both steam and sail, so I went to work securing every thing, thinking she would soon come. I could not see any body on deck; they, if there, were not in sight. She kept along down by the land, and then, instead of steering toward us, dropped away behind what I suppose was Littleton Island. Our signal was dark, and would surely be seen at that distance on a white ice-floe. I do not know what to make of this.
I sent some of the men to the other side to keep a look-out there, and in going across they saw the Polaris behind the island, and so came back and reported; they said she was “tied up.” I did not know what to think of it; but I took my spy-glass, and running to a point where they said I could see her, sure enough there she was, tied up— at least, all her sails were furled, and there was no smoke from her stack, and she was lying head to the wind.
And now our piece of ice, which had become stationary, commenced drifting; and I did not feel right about the vessel not coming for us. I began to think she did not mean to. I could not think she was disabled, because we had so recently seen her steaming; so I told the men we must get the boats to the other side of the floe, and try and reach the land—perhaps lower down than the vessel was—so that we might eventually reach her. I told them to prepare the boats. We would leave all of our supplies behind, taking only a little provision—enough to last perhaps two or three days.
I told the men that, while they were preparing, I would run across the ice and see if there was an opportunity to take the water, or where was the best place, so that they would not have to haul the boats uselessly. I ran across as quick as I could. I was very tired, for I had eaten nothing but some biscuit and a drink of blood-soup; but I saw there was an opportunity to get through, and that seemed to renew my strength. The small ice did not now appear to be coming in fast enough to prevent our getting across. But it is astonishing how rapidly the ice can close together, and I knew we were liable to be frozen up at any moment; so I hurried back to the boats and told them “we must start immediately.”
There was a great deal of murmuring—the men did not seem to
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