On the inside Bell made a sort of bed, covered with the canvas of the tent, for the American; the provisions, which were unfortunately scanty, would not materially augment the weight of the sledge, but still they made up for that by loading it with all the wood it could carry.
The doctor, as he packed all the provisions, made out a very careful list of their amount; he calculated that each man could have three quarters of a ration for a journey of three weeks. A whole ration was set aside for the four dogs which should draw it. If Duke aided them, he was to have a whole ration.
These preparations were interrupted by the need of sleep and rest, which they felt at seven o’clock in the evening; but before going to bed they gathered around the stove, which was well filled with fuel, and these poor men luxuriated in more warmth than they had enjoyed for a long time; some pemmican, a few biscuits, and several cups of coffee soon put them in good-humor, especially when their hopes had been so unexpectedly lighted up. At seven in the morning they resumed work, and finished it at three in the afternoon. It was already growing dark. Since January 31st the sun had appeared above the horizon, but it gave only a pale and brief light; fortunately the moon would rise at half past six, and with this clear sky it would make their path plain. The temperature, which had been growing lower for several days, fell at last to −33°.
The time for leaving came. Altamont received the order with joy, although the jolting of the sledge would increase his sufferings; he told the doctor that medicine against the scurvy would be found on board of the Porpoise. He was carried to the sledge and placed there as comfortably as possible; the dogs, including Duke, were harnessed in; the travellers cast one last glance at the spot where the Forward had lain. A glow of rage passed over Hatteras’s face, but he controlled it at once, and the little band set out with the air very dry at first, although soon a mist came over them.
Each one took his accustomed place, Bell ahead pointing out the way, the doctor and Johnson by the sides of the sledge, watching and lending their aid when it was necessary, and Hatteras behind, correcting the line of march.
They went along tolerably quickly; now that the temperature was so low, the ice was hard and smooth for travel; the five dogs easily drew the sledge, which weighed hardly more than nine hundred pounds. Still, men and beasts panted heavily, and often they had to stop to take breath.
Towards seven o’clock in the evening, the moon peered through mist on the horizon. Its rays threw out a light which was reflected from the ice; towards the northwest the ice-field looked like a perfectly smooth plain; not a hummock was to be seen. This part of the sea seemed to have frozen smooth like a lake.
It was an immense, monotonous desert.
Such was the impression that this spectacle made on the doctor’s mind, and he spoke of it to his companion.
“You are right, Doctor,” answered Johnson; “it is a desert, but we need not fear dying of thirst.”
“A decided advantage,” continued the doctor; “still, this immensity proves one thing to me, and that is that we are far distant from any land; in general, the proximity of land is indicated by a number of icebergs, and not one is to be seen near us.”
“We can’t see very far for the fog,” said Johnson.
“Without doubt; but since we started we have crossed a smooth field of which we cannot see the end.”
“Do you know, Doctor, it’s a dangerous walk we are taking! We get used to it and don’t think of it, but we are walking over fathomless depths.”
“You are right, my friend, but we need not fear being swallowed; with such cold as this the ice is very strong. Besides, it has a constant tendency to get thicker, for snow falls nine days out of ten, even in April, May, and June, and I fancy it must be something like thirty or forty feet thick.”
“That is a comfort,” said Johnson.
“In fact, we are very much better off than those who skate on the Serpentine, and who are in constant dread of falling through; we have no such fear.”
“Has the resistance of ice been calculated?” asked the old sailor, who was always seeking information from the doctor.
“Yes,” the latter answered: “everything almost that can be measured is now known, except human ambition! and is it not that which is carrying us towards the North Pole? But to return to your question, my answer is this. Ice two inches thick will bear a man; three and a half inches thick, a horse and rider; five inches thick, an eight-pound cannon; eight inches, a fully harnessed artillery-piece; and ten inches, an army, any number of men! Where we are now, the Liverpool Custom House or the Halls of Parliament in London could be built.”
“One can hardly imagine such strength,” said Johnson; “but just now, Doctor, you spoke of snow falling nine days out of ten; that is true, but where does all the snow come from? The sea is all frozen, and I don’t see how the vapor can rise to form the clouds.”
“A very keen observation, Johnson; but, in my opinion, the greatest part of the snow or rain which we receive in the polar regions is formed from the water of the seas in the temperate zones. One flake arose into the air under the form of vapor from some river in Europe, it helped make a cloud, and finally
