Suddenly the rock gave way beneath him. He disappeared. A terrible cry from his companions rose even to the summit of the mountain. A second—a century—passed! Clawbonny considered his friend lost and buried forever in the depths of the volcano. But Altamont was there, and Duke too. The man and the dog had seized him just when he was disappearing in the abyss. Hatteras was saved, saved in spite of himself, and half an hour later the captain of the Forward lay unconscious in the arms of his despairing friends.
When he came to himself, the doctor gave him a questioning glance in mute agony. But his vague look, like that of a blind man, made no reply.
“Heavens!” said Johnson, “he is blind!”
“No,” answered Clawbonny—“no! My poor friends, we have saved Hatteras’s body! His mind is at the top of the volcano! He has lost his reason!”
“Mad?” cried Johnson and Altamont in deep distress.
“Mad!” answered the doctor.
And he wept bitterly.
XXVI
Return to the South
Three hours after this sad conclusion to the adventures of Captain Hatteras, Clawbonny, Altamont, and the two sailors were assembled in the cavern at the foot of the volcano. Then Clawbonny was asked to give his opinion on what was to be done.
“My friends,” he said, “we cannot prolong our stay at Queen’s Island; the sea is open before us; our provisions are sufficient; we must set out and reach Fort Providence as soon as possible, and we can go into winter-quarters till next summer.”
“That is my opinion,” said Altamont; “the wind is fair, and tomorrow we shall set sail.”
The day passed in great gloom. The captain’s madness was a sad foreboding, and when Johnson, Bell, and Altamont thought of their return, they were afraid of their loneliness and remoteness. They felt the need of Hatteras’s bold soul. Still, like energetic men they made ready for a new struggle with the elements, and with themselves, in case they should feel themselves growing fainthearted.
The next day, Saturday, July 13th, the camping materials were put on the boat, and soon everything was ready for their departure. But before leaving this rock forever, the doctor, following Hatteras’s intentions, put up a cairn at the place where the captain reached the island; this cairn was built of large rocks laid on one another, so as to form a perfectly visible landmark, if it were not destroyed by the eruption.
On one of the lateral stones Bell carved with a chisel this simple inscription:—
John Hatteras
1861.
A copy of the document was placed inside of the cairn in an hermetically sealed tin cylinder, and the proof of this great discovery was left here on these lonely rocks.
Then the four men and the captain—a poor body without a mind—and his faithful Duke, sad and melancholy, got into the boat for the return voyage. It was ten o’clock in the morning. A new sail was set up with the canvas of the tent. The launch, sailing before the wind, left Queen’s Island, and that evening the doctor, standing on his bench, waved a last farewell to Mount Hatteras, which was lighting up the horizon.
Their voyage was very quick; the sea, which was always open, was easy sailing, and it seemed really easier to go away from the Pole than to approach it. But Hatteras was in no state to understand what was going on about him; he lay at full length in the launch, his mouth closed, his expression dull, and his arms folded. Duke lay at his feet. It was in vain that the doctor questioned him. Hatteras did not hear him.
For forty-eight hours the breeze was fair and the sea smooth. Clawbonny and his companions rejoiced in the north-wind. July 15th, they made Altamont Harbor in the south; but since the Polar Ocean was open all along the coast, instead of crossing New America by sledge, they resolved to sail around it, and reach Victoria Bay by sea. This voyage was quicker and easier. In fact, the space which had taken them a fortnight on sledges took them hardly a week by sail; and after following the rugged outline of the coast, which was fringed with numerous fjords, and determining its shape, they reached Victoria Bay, Monday evening, July 23rd.
The launch was firmly anchored to the shore, and each one ran to Fort Providence. The Doctor’s House, the stores, the magazine, the fortifications, all had melted in the sun, and the supplies had been devoured by hungry beasts.
It was a sad sight.
They were nearly at the end of their supplies, and they had intended to renew them at Fort Providence. The impossibility of passing the winter there was evident. Like people accustomed to decide rapidly, they determined to reach Baffin’s Bay as soon as possible.
“We have nothing else to do,” said the doctor; “Baffin’s Bay is not six hundred miles from here; we might sail as far as our launch would carry us, reach Jones’s Sound, and from there the Danish settlements.”
“Yes,” answered Altamont; “let us collect all the provisions we can, and leave.”
By strict search they found a few chests of pemmican here and there, and two barrels of preserved meat, which had escaped destruction. In short, they had a supply for six weeks, and powder enough. This was promptly collected. The day was devoted to calking the launch, repairing it, and the next day, July 24th, they put out to sea again.
The continent towards latitude 83° inclined towards the east. It was possible that it joined the countries known under the name of Grinnell Land, Ellesmere, and North Lincoln, which form the coastline of Baffin’s Bay. They could then hold it for certain that Jones’s Sound opened in the inner seas, like Lancaster Sound. The launch then sailed without much difficulty,
