Stray Leaves from an Arctic Journal: Or, Eighteen Months in the Polar Regions, in Search of Sir John Franklin's Expedition, in the Years 1850-51Osborn, Sherard
History
Stray Leaves from an Arctic Journal: Or, Eighteen Months in the Polar Regions, in Search of Sir John Franklin's Expedition, in the Years 1850-51
Osborn, Sherard
Arctic regions; Franklin, John, 1786-1847
The pencil of a Wilkie could hardly convey the characteristics of such
a scene, and it is far beyond my humble pen to tell of the stirring
animation exhibited by some twenty ships' companies, who knew that on
their own exertions depended the safety of their vessels and the
success of their voyage. The ice was of an average thickness of three
feet, and to cut this saws of ten feet long were used, the length of
stroke being about as far as the men directing the saw could reach up
and down. A little powder was used to break up the pieces that were
cut, so as to get them easily out of the mouth of the dock, an
operation which the officers of our vessels performed whilst the men
cut away with the saws. In a very short time all the vessels were in
safety, the pressure of the pack expending itself on a chain of bergs
some ten miles north of our present position. The unequal contest
between floe and iceberg exhibited itself there in a fearful manner;
for the former pressing onward against the huge grounded masses was
torn into shreds, and thrown back piecemeal, layer on layer of many
feet in elevation, as if mere shreds of some flimsy material, instead
of solid, hard ice, every cubic yard of which weighed nearly a ton.
The smell of our numerous fires brought a bear in sight; Nimrods
without number issued out to slay him, the weapons being as varied as
the individuals were numerous. The chase would, however, have been a
fruitless one, had not the bear in his retreat fallen in with and
killed a seal; his voracity overcame his fears, and being driven into
the water, he was shot from the boat of one of the whalers which had
perseveringly followed him.
The brute was of no great size--not more than five feet in length. The
coat, instead of being white, was turned to a dingy yellow, much
resembling in colour decayed ice; a resemblance which enabled the
animal, no doubt, to approach the seals with greater facility.
By midnight all fears for the safety of the vessels had ceased; indeed,
as far as our searching ships had been concerned, there never had been
much cause for fear, the operation of docking having been carried out
by us more for the sake of practice than from necessity. We were
tightly beset until the following evening, when the ice as suddenly
moved off as it had come together; and then a scene of joyful
excitement took place, such as is only to be seen in the arctic
regions--every ship striving to be foremost in her escape from
imprisonment, and to lead ahead. Want of wind obliged the whalers and
Penny's brigs to be tracked along the floe-edge by the crews--a
laborious operation, which is done on our English canals by horses;
here, however, the powerful crews of fishermen, mustering from
thirty-five to fifty hands, fastened on by their track-belts to a
whale-line, and, with loud songs, made their vessels slip through the
water at an astonishing pace.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account