True Tales of Arctic Heroism in the New WorldGreely, A. W. (Adolphus Washington)
History
True Tales of Arctic Heroism in the New World
Greely, A. W. (Adolphus Washington)
Arctic regions
The question of crossing the Coppermine, a broad stream full of rapids,
was now one of life or death. With remorse nearly bordering on
desperation, the Canadians now saw that the despised and abandoned canoe
was their real ark of safety. Following the banks for miles, no ford
could be found despite the closest search. Franklin fixed on two plans
for crossing, either by a raft of willows, which grew in quantities
near by, or by a canvas boat to be made by stretching over a willow
framework parts of tents still in hand. The voyageurs arrogantly scouted
both expedients, but after wasting three precious days wrangling they
built a willow raft. When done its buoyancy was so slight that only one
man could be supported by it. It was thought, however, that a crossing
could be made by getting a line across the river by which the raft could
be pulled to and fro. As an incitement to exertion, Franklin offered to
the voyageur who should take a line across the sum of three hundred
livres (sixty dollars), a large amount for any of these men. Two of the
strongest men failed in their efforts to work the raft across, the
stream being rapid and one hundred and thirty yards across. The single
paddle, brought by Richardson all these weary miles from the sea-shore,
was too feeble, and two tent-poles lashed together were not long enough
to reach bottom a short distance from the shore. Repeated failures
demoralized the voyageurs, who cried out with common accord that they
were lost.
Dr. Richardson now felt that the time had come to venture his life for
the safety of the party, and so offered to swim across the Coppermine
with a line by which the raft could be hauled over. As he stripped his
gaunt frame looked rather like a skeleton than a living man. At the
sight the Canadians all cried out at once, "Ah! que nous sommes
maigres!" ("Oh! how thin we are!"). As the doctor was entering the
river he stepped on a dagger which had been carelessly left on the
ground. It cut him to the bone, but he did not draw back for a second.
Pain was nothing to the lives of his comrades.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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