“Yes, sir,” answered Wall.
“I am going ashore in the gig with the doctor and the boatswain; Mr. Shandon, will you go with us?”
“At your orders,” answered Shandon.
A few minutes later the doctor, with gun and baskets for any specimens he might find, took his place in the gig with his companions; ten minutes later they stepped out on a low, rocky shore.
“Lead the way, Johnson,” said Hatteras; “do you remember it?”
“Perfectly, Captain; only here is a monument which I did not expect to find here.”
“That,” shouted the doctor, “I know what it is; let’s go look at it; it will tell us of itself why it was put here.”
The four men went up to it, and the doctor, baring his head, said—
“This, my friends, is a monument raised to the memory of Franklin and his companions.”
In fact, Lady Franklin having, in 1855, sent a tablet of black marble to Dr. Kane, gave another in 1858 to MacClintock to be placed on Beechey Island. MacClintock discharged his duty, and placed this tablet near a funeral pile raised to the memory of Bellot by Sir John Barrow.
This tablet bore the following inscription:—
To the memory of
Franklin, Crozier, Fitz-James,
and all their gallant brother officers and faithful companions
Who have suffered and perished
in the cause of science and the service of their country.This tablet
Is erected near the spot where they passed their first arctic Winter,
and whence they issued forth to conquer difficulties or
to die.It commemorates the grief of their Admiring Countrymen and Friends,
and the anguish, subdued by Faith,
of her who has lost, in the heroic Leader of the Expedition, the Most Devoted
and Affectionate of Husbands.“And so he bringeth them unto the Haven where they would be.”
1855.
This stone, on a lonely shore of these remote regions, touched everyone’s heart; the doctor felt the tears rising in his eyes. On the very spot whence Franklin and his men sailed, full of hope and strength, there was now merely a slab of marble to commemorate them; and in spite of this solemn warning of fate, the Forward was about to follow the path of the Erebus and Terror.
Hatteras was the first to rouse himself; he ascended quickly a rather high hillock, which was almost entirely bare of snow.
“Captain,” said Johnson, following him, “from there we ought to see the stores.”
Shandon and the doctor joined them just as they reached the top of the hill.
But their eyes saw nothing but large plains with no trace of a building.
“This is very strange,” said the boatswain.
“Well, these stores?” said Hatteras, quickly.
“I don’t know—I don’t see—” stammered Johnson.
“You must have mistaken the path,” said the doctor.
“Still it seems to me,” resumed Johnson after a moment’s reflection, “that at this very spot—”
“Well,” said Hatteras, impatiently, “where shall we go?”
“Let’s go down again,” said the boatswain, “for it’s possible I’ve lost my way! In seven years I may have forgotten the place.”
“Especially,” said the doctor, “when the country is so monotonous.”
“And yet—” muttered Johnson.
Shandon said not a word. After walking a few minutes, Johnson stopped.
“No,” he said, “I’m not mistaken.”
“Well,” said Hatteras, looking around.
“What makes you say so, Johnson?” asked the doctor.
“Do you see this little rise in the earth?” asked the boatswain, pointing downwards to a mound in which three elevations could be clearly seen.
“What does that mean?” asked the doctor.
“There,” answered Johnson, “are the three tombs of Franklin’s sailors. I’m sure of it! I’m not mistaken, and the stores must be within a hundred paces of us, and if they’re not there—it’s because—”
He durst not finish his sentence; Hatteras ran forward, and terrible despair seized him. There ought to stand those much-needed storehouses, with supplies of all sorts on which he had been counting; but ruin, pillage, and destruction had passed over that place where civilized hands had accumulated resources for battered sailors. Who had committed these depredations? Wild animals, wolves, foxes, bears? No, for they would have destroyed only the provisions; and there was left no shred of a tent, not a piece of wood, not a scrap of iron, no bit of any metal, nor—what was more serious for the men of the Forward—a single lump of coal.
Evidently the Eskimo, who have often had much to do with European ships, had finally learned the value of these objects; since the visit of the Fox they had come frequently to this great storehouse, and had pillaged incessantly, with the intention of leaving no trace of what had been there; and now a long drift of half-melted snow covered the ground.
Hatteras was baffled. The doctor gazed and shook his head. Shandon said nothing, but an attentive observer would have noticed a wicked smile about his lips.
At this moment the men sent by Wall arrived. They took it all in at a glance. Shandon went up to the captain and said—
“Mr. Hatteras, we need not despair; fortunately we are near the entrance to Barrow Strait, which will carry us back to Baffin’s Bay.”
“Mr. Shandon,” answered Hatteras, “we are fortunately near the entrance of Wellington Channel, and it will lead us to the north.”
“And how shall we go, Captain?”
“Under sail, sir. We have two months’ fuel left, and that is more than we shall need for next winter.”
“Permit me to say,” began Shandon.
“I permit you to follow me to the ship, sir,” was Hatteras’s answer.
And turning his back on his first officer, he returned to the brig and locked himself in his cabin.
For two days the wind was unfavorable; the captain did not come on deck. The doctor profited by this forced delay to examine Beechey Island; he collected a few plants which a comparatively high temperature let grow here and there on some rocks which projected from the snow, such as heather, a few lichens, a sort of yellow ranunculus, a plant like sorrel with leaves a trifle larger, and some sturdy saxifrages.
The fauna of this country was much richer; the doctor saw large flocks of geese and cranes flying northward; partridges, eider-ducks, northern divers, numerous ptarmigans,
