Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.Anonymous
History
Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.
Anonymous
Mutiny; Pirates; Seafaring life; Shipwrecks
Excepting white bears, foxes and rein-deer, with which the island
abounds, no other animals inhabit it. A few birds are seen in summer,
such as geese, ducks and other water-fowl. Whales seldom approach the
shore; but there are great numbers of seals; other fish are scarce,
and indeed their being in plenty would little avail the Russians, who
were unprovided with the means of taking them. Sometimes they found
the teeth and jaws of seals on the shore, but never an entire carcase;
for when these animals die on land, the white bears immediately eat
them. The common food of this ferocious creature, however, is the
flesh of dead whales, which are frequently seen floating about in the
polar regions, and are sometimes cast on shore. When this provision
fails, they fall upon seals, devouring them and other animals sleeping
on the beach.
The island had many mountains and steep rocks of stupendous height,
perpetually covered with snow and ice; not a tree nor even the poorest
shrub was to be met with; neither is there any vegetable but
scurvy-grass, although plenty of moss grows in every part. The
Russians found no river; however, there were many small rivulets
rising among the rocks and mountains, which afforded a quantity of
water.
They saw the sun moving for months together round the horizon during
summer, and in winter they were an equal length of time in total
darkness; but the Aurora Borealis, which was then frequent,
contributed to lessen the gloominess of so long a night. Thick cloudy
weather, great quantities of snow, and almost incessant rain at
certain seasons, often obscured the stars. The snow totally covered
the hut in winter, and left them no way of getting out of it,
excepting by a hole which they had made in the roof of one of the
chambers.
When the unfortunate mariners had passed nearly six years in this
dismal abode, Feoder Weregin, who had all along been in a languid
state, died, after suffering the most excruciating pains. Though his
companions were thus freed of the trouble of attending on him, and the
grief of witnessing his misery, they were deeply affected by his
death. They saw their number lessened, and each wished to be the next
to follow him. Having died in winter, a grave as deep as possible was
dug in the snow to receive his corpse, and the survivors then covered
it over to the best of their power, to prevent the white bears from
getting at it.
While the melancholy reflections excited by Weregin's death were still
fresh in the minds of his comrades, and while each expected to pay the
like duties to the companions of his misfortunes that they had done to
him, or to be himself the first to receive them, a Russian vessel
unexpectedly came in view on the 15th of August 1749.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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