“No,” answered Hatteras, warmly—“no! It was his courage, his perseverance in spending four winters in the ice—”
“I should think so!” retorted the American; “he got caught in the ice and couldn’t get out, and he had to abandon the Investigator at last to go back to England.”
“My friends—” said the doctor.
“Besides,” Altamont went on, “let us consider the result. You speak of the Northwest Passage; well, it has yet to be discovered!”
Hatteras started at these words; no more vexatious question could have arisen between two rival nationalities. The doctor again tried to intervene.
“You are mistaken, Altamont,” he said.
“No, I persist in my opinions,” he said obstinately; “the Northwest Passage is yet to be found, to be sailed through, if you like that any better! MacClure never penetrated it, and to this day no ship that has sailed from Bering Strait has reached Baffin’s Bay!”
That was true, speaking exactly. What answer could be made?
Nevertheless, Hatteras rose to his feet and said—
“I shall not permit the good name of an English captain to be attacked any further in my presence.”
“You will not permit it?” answered the American, who also rose to his feet; “but these are the facts, and it is beyond your power to destroy them.”
“Sir!” said Hatteras, pale with anger.
“My friends,” said the doctor, “don’t get excited! We are discussing a scientific subject.”
Clawbonny looked with horror at a scientific discussion into which the hate of an American and an Englishman could enter.
“I am going to give you the facts,” began Hatteras, threateningly.
“But I’m speaking now!” retorted the American.
Johnson and Bell became very uneasy.
“Gentlemen,” said the doctor, severely, “let me say a word! I insist upon it, I know the facts as well, better than you do, and I can speak of them impartially.”
“Yes, yes,” said Bell and Johnson, who were distressed at the turn the discussion had taken, and who formed a majority favorable to the doctor.
“Go on, Doctor,” said Johnson, “these gentlemen will listen, and you cannot fail to give us some information.”
“Go on, Doctor,” said the American.
Hatteras resumed his place with a sign of acquiescence, and folded his arms.
“I will tell the simple truth about the facts,” said the doctor, “and you must correct me if I omit or alter any detail.”
“We know you, Doctor,” said Bell, “and you can speak without fear of interruption.”
“Here is the chart of the Polar Seas,” resumed the doctor, who had brought it to the table; “it will be easy to trace MacClure’s course, and you will be able to make up your minds for yourselves.”
Thereupon he unrolled one of the excellent maps published by order of the Admiralty, containing the latest discoveries in arctic regions; then he went on:—
“You know, in 1848, two ships, the Herald, Captain Kellet, and the Plover, Commander Moore, were sent to Bering Strait in search of traces of Franklin; their search was vain; in 1850 they were joined by MacClure, who commanded the Investigator, a ship in which he had sailed, in 1849, under James Ross’s orders. He was followed by Captain Collinson, his chief, who sailed in the Enterprise; but he arrived before him. At Bering Strait he declared he would wait no longer, and that he would go alone, on his own responsibility, and—you hear me, Altamont—that he would find either Franklin or the passage.”
Altamont showed neither approbation nor the contrary.
“August 5, 1850,” continued the doctor, “after a final communication with the Plover, MacClure sailed eastward by an almost unknown route; see how little land is marked upon the chart. August 30th he rounded Cape Bathurst; September 6th he discovered Baring Land, which he afterwards discovered to form part of Banks Land, then Prince Albert’s Land. Then he resolved to enter the long straits between these two large islands, and he called it Prince of Wales Strait. You can follow his plan. He hoped to come out in Melville Sound, which we have just crossed, and with reason; but the ice at the end of the strait formed an impassable barrier. There MacClure wintered in 1850–51, and meanwhile he pushed on over the ice, to make sure that the strait connected with the sound.”
“Yes,” said Altamont, “but he didn’t succeed.”
“One moment,” said the doctor. “While wintering there, MacClure’s officers explored all the neighboring coasts: Creswell, Baring’s Land; Haswell, Prince Albert’s Land, to the south; and Wynniat, Cape Walker, to the north. In July, at the beginning of the thaw, MacClure tried a second time to carry the Investigator to Melville Sound; he got within twenty miles of it, twenty miles only, but the winds carried him with irresistible force to the south, before he could get through the obstacle. Then he determined to go back through Prince of Wales Strait, and go around Banks Land, to try at the west what he could not do in the east; he put about; the 18th he rounded Cape Kellet; the 19th, Cape Prince Alfred, two degrees higher; then, after a hard struggle with the icebergs, he was caught in Banks Strait, in the series of straits leading to Baffin’s Bay.”
“But he couldn’t get through them,” said Altamont.
“Wait a moment, and be as patient as MacClure was. September 26th, he took his station for the winter in Mercy Bay, and stayed there till 1852. April came; MacClure had supplies for only eighteen months. Nevertheless, he was unwilling to return; he started, crossing Banks Strait by sledge, and reached Melville Island. Let us follow him. He hoped to find here Commander Austin’s ships, which were sent to meet him by Baffin’s Bay and Lancaster Sound; April 28th he arrived at Winter Harbor, at the place where Parry had wintered thirty-three years previously, but no trace of the ships; only he found in a cairn a paper, telling him that MacClintock, Austin’s lieutenant, had been there the year before, and gone away. Anyone else would have been in despair, but MacClure was not. He put in the cairn
