Kitabı oku: «True Tales of Arctic Heroism in the New World», sayfa 7
DR. RAE AND THE FRANKLIN MYSTERY
"An age which passes over in silence the merits of the heroic deserves as a punishment that it should not bring forth such an one in its midst." – Forster.
In 1845 Captain John Franklin, royal navy, in command of the ships Erebus and Terror, sailed with one hundred and twenty-nine souls to make the northwest passage. His orders carried him via Lancaster Sound and Cape Walker, and he was provisioned for three years. The ships were last seen by civilized men in Baffin Bay, whence they passed from the knowledge of the world. In 1847 great anxiety prevailed as to the fate of the expedition, and fears of its loss grew stronger from year to year. More than a score of ships, with crews of nearly two thousand men, at an expense of millions of dollars vainly sought, between 1847 and 1853, news of the missing squadron, and the British Parliament offered a reward of ten thousand pounds sterling for the first accredited information regarding the lost explorers.
The Franklin mystery was solved through the labors of Dr. John Rae, a Scotch surgeon in the employ of the Hudson Bay Company, whose marvellous endurance and restless energy are evident from the statement that in his various journeys of exploration he walked more than twenty thousand miles. The conditions under which Rae gained information as to the fate of Franklin are herein set forth.
Twice before had Rae been engaged in the Franklin search, in 1848-50 with Sir John Richardson, and later under the auspices of the Hudson Bay Company. In these combined journeys of five thousand three hundred and eighty miles he had explored much of Wollaston and Victoria Lands, from Fort Confidence as a base. The doctor then found at Parker Bay the butt of a flag-staff, which from its tack and line, bearing the special mark of the royal navy, had evidently belonged to one of Franklin's ships. Now, in 1853, he was in command of a Hudson Bay Company's party to complete the exploration of Boothia Peninsula.
Leaving Chesterfield Inlet by boat, Rae was en route to Repulse Bay, his intended head-quarters, when he fell in with a herd of walruses, from which, in spite of his terrified crew, who feared these sea-monsters, he obtained an enormous animal that furnished enough blubber for his cooking-lamps throughout the winter. That Rae's walrus hunt was not without danger was evident from the experiences of four Eskimos off this very coast on Rae's previous visit. The natives lashed together their four kayaks, and while in pursuit of walruses were attacked by a ferocious male. Striking down the first kayak with his enormous tusks, the infuriated animal ploughed through the miniature fleet, capsizing and breaking up the four tiny crafts and drowning the unfortunate hunters.
It was the middle of August when Rae pitched his tents on the barren shores of Repulse Bay, where the outlook for food and comfort were not promising – the shore being free from Eskimo hunters, whose absence indicated that the migratory game was pasturing inland that year. Summer was rapidly passing, yet thick masses of old ice clung to the shore and immense drifts of snow still filled the ravines.
The party had food and fuel for three months only, while the work in hand meant a stay of nine months. The doctor began to collect supplies systematically, and knew how to work to the best advantage as he had once wintered at Repulse Bay. One party spread fish-nets at the best places along the shore, the second took the field for deer and other large game, while the last busied itself in gathering fuel for the winter. Rae had earlier found that bunches of the arctic saxifrage made excellent fuel when dried, and as there were neither trees nor shrubs the hills and valleys were scoured for this useful plant.
With true Scottish pertinacity, Rae set the pace for his men and then outdid them all in turn. Supplementing the mental training of the Caucasian by extended experiences in the hunting-field of the Hudson Bay region, he astonished and discomfited his men through astounding success in the pursuit of game. In knowledge of woodcraft, in keenness of vision, in keeping the trail, in patient waiting, and in hunter's wiles he was without equal among his men. The Indian deer-hunter, Mistegan, had come north especially selected to kill game for the party. When the Indian kept the field for ten hours and brought in a deer, Rae kept it for twelve hours and killed two or three animals. Pushed by his white rival, Mistegan did his best and shot twenty-one deer in six weeks, while Rae had to his credit forty-nine head – the whole party of eight killing only one hundred and nine.
To the amazement of all, after a long absence roaming over the far-distant hills to the west, Rae brought word that he had slain a musk-ox – the sole wanderer that year from the herds of the barren grounds to the southwest.
The weather became bitter cold, with the temperature down to zero, and sea-fishing then failed. Rae turned his efforts to the newly frozen lakes, where the hooks and nets, skilfully set, yielded two or three salmon or lake trout daily – no mean addition to their larder for men who were living on the game of the country.
October was a dismal period with its shortening days, its gloomy skies, and high winds, which with zero temperatures blew piercingly through the wretchedly thin tents. Life in daylight was only endurable when men were on the trail or hunt. But now the wise old monarchs of the herds were turning their heads southward in their annual migration, and only twenty-five deer were killed during the month.
However, the bitter wind did good and needful work, for in time it packed into marble-like drifts the autumnal snows. This gave work for native snow-knife and deft hands, which soon erected two large snow houses, on the southerly side of Beacon Hill, where they were well sheltered from the prevailing northwesterly gales.
With Indian inclinations to idleness, some of the men looked forward eagerly to the completion of the snow houses. They were viewed as comfortable places for the long winter, where the cheerful pipe, with tales of the trail and ample food, should make content the trapper's heart and body. Rae had no such notion, for he had lived too long with natives and with half-breeds not to know that daily work was needful not only for the health, but even more for the morale and efficiency of his men.
Finding that the fish-nets of the lake were much cut up by a small, shrimp-like water insect, the favorite food of the salmon, he transferred them to the rapids of North Pole River, which kept open nearly all winter. Some of the men made the six-mile tramp across the rough country to daily drag the nets, while the rest kept the field where an occasional fox, wolf, partridge, or wolverine rewarded their efforts.
After a time there was much grumbling at days of fruitless hunting. Rae was equal to the occasion, and he set the discontented hunters at work scraping under the snow for saxifrage, their sole supply of fuel. To complaints he tersely said: "No saxifrage, no tea." Only men familiar with the white north know what a deprivation it would have been to these half-breeds to give up the hot tea, which they daily look forward to with intense longing and drink with deep satisfaction.
With midwinter past and the sun returned, Rae welcomed with relief the first sign of the far-distant but longed-for arctic spring. Of course, with lengthening days came strengthening cold, and there were weeks during which the mercury was frozen – the true arctic days of no wind, of bright skies, and of beautiful colors in air and on ice.
One day the youngest of the Indians burst into the snow house, crying out in great terror that the clouds were on fire. While the older men rushed out instantly, the phlegmatic Scot followed at leisure. It proved to be an offshoot of one of the brilliant sun-dogs which so wondrously beautify the arctic heavens, especially in the early spring or late winter. These sun-dogs, or mock-suns, arise from refraction and reflection of the solar rays of light from the ice particles that are suspended in the air, and are usually at twenty-two or forty-five degrees distant from the sun itself.
On this occasion the sun-dogs had formed behind a thin, transparent cirrus cloud which greatly extended the area of the sun-dog besides adding very greatly to its already vivid colors. Rae tells us that "three fringes of pink and green followed the outlines of the cloud." The alarm and mistake of the young novice in sun-dogs and solar halos were sources of gibes and fun among his chaffing comrades for many days.
Rae now began his preparations for field work. A snow hut was put up for the use of the carpenter, who was soon busy overhauling the sledge gear. The Hudson Bay sledges were carefully taken apart, scraped, polished, reduced in weight as far as was safe, and then put together with the utmost care so that the chance of a break-down in the field should be reduced to a minimum. The trade articles for use with the Eskimos were gone over and so arranged as to give the greatest variety for use in the field with the least weight. Everything was to be hauled by man-power and the weights must be as small as possible. Beads, files, knives, thimbles, fish-hooks, needles, and chisels were thought to be the best suited to native needs and tastes.
Meanwhile, Rae was disturbed that no signs of Eskimos had been found in their local field journeys. He feared that their absence might mean that there had been a change of route on the part of the reindeer in their migratory paths, for in that region no game meant no inhabitants. Several efforts to locate natives near the fishing-points were made without success. The doctor then put into the field two of his best men, Thomas Mistegan, the deer-hunter, "a trusty, pushing fellow," as we are told, and William Ouglibuck, the Eskimo interpreter of the party. Their journey of several days to Ross Bay showed that the country was bare of natives, but here and there were seen a number of deer migrating to the north, and of these a few were shot. This journey was most disappointing in its results for Rae had hoped to find Eskimos from whom he could buy a few dogs for sledge work.
Rae did not spare himself, for starting in bitterly cold weather he laid down an advance depot which was hauled on Hudson Bay sledges a distance of one hundred and seventy miles. At Cape Pelly stores were cached under large stones, secure, as he said, from any animal except man or bear. Long experience had made him familiar with the enormous strength and destructive powers of the polar bear. Dr. Kane, it will be recalled, tells of the utter ruin of one of his best-built cairns, which he thought to be animal-proof. Yet the bears tore it down and scattered its heaviest packages in all directions.
The long and final trip to the north began on the last day of March, the four sledgemen hauling each a heavily laden sledge. The field ration was almost entirely pemmican, two pounds per day, with a few biscuit and the indispensable tea. The trip began with misfortunes, one man proving so weak in the traces that Rae had to replace him by the Cree Indian, Mistegan, an experienced sledge-hauler of unusual activity.
The route lay overland almost directly north, to Pelly Bay across a broken, desolate country. Violent blizzards and knee-deep snow made travel painful enough, but under Rae's exacting leadership the hardships became extreme. Each sledge with its load approached two hundred pounds, an awful drag, which could be made only by men of iron frame and great endurance, especially when making some twenty miles per day – Rae's standard of travel. The day's march ended, then came the tedious labor of building a snow igloo, wherein at least they were able to sleep with warmth and comfort. While hut-building was in progress the doctor faithfully made sextant observations for latitude or longitude, determined the local variation of the compass, and observed the temperature – in short, did more than any other man of the party.
Day after day they marched on over a land of desolation and abandonment. Neither bird nor man nor beast was to be seen, despite the keen eyes of the Cree hunter, of whom Rae commendingly remarked: "Custom had caused him to notice indications and marks which would have escaped the observation of a person less acute and experienced." In this single particular, of picking up and following a trail, was the remarkable Scottish leader surpassed by any of his Indian hunters or Canadian trappers.
Nearly three weeks of monotonous, heart-breaking travel had thus passed, and they reached the shores of Pelly Bay. Scouring the country near the camp as usual, the trail-hunting Cree, Mistegan, threw up his hands with the welcome message of things seen, which brought Rae to his side. There, clear to the Indian but almost illegible to any other, a few faint scratches on the surface of the ice told that days before there had passed a dog-drawn sledge.
Making camp, Rae began work on his observations, at the same time setting two men at gathering saxifrage for fuel, and putting on the sledge trail Eskimo Ouglibuck and fleet-footed Mistegan. That night Rae was happy to see flying across the bay ice several dog-sledges with triumphant Mistegan in the lead.
There were seventeen Inuit hunters, twelve men and five women. Although several of them had met Rae at Repulse Bay in 1846-7, the greater number were pushing and troublesome, having a certain contempt for men of pale faces who were so poor that they were without even a single dog and had to haul their sledges themselves. After some talk they were ready to sell the seal meat with which their sledges were loaded, but would not, despite liberal promises of needles, agree to hire out their dogs to go westward across land, as Rae desired them to do in order that he might survey the west coast – his sole object on this journey. Although Rae spoke of the delights of chasing musk-oxen, they preferred their seal-hunting grounds which they had just visited with success.
Rae tells us of a favorite method of seal-hunting followed by these Eskimos in which many of the native women are very expert. On bright days the seals, crawling from their air-holes, delight to bask in the sun and indulge in little cat-naps or siestas. Dozing a half-minute, the seal awakes with alarm, and after quickly looking in all directions falls asleep, with constant repetitions of naps and starts. When a seal is thus engaged the hunter, clad in seal-skin garments, endeavors to make his way between the seal and the air-hole, a process demanding endless patience and involving much fatigue. The hunter lies either on his face or side, and makes his advances while the animal dozes or is looking elsewhere. If obliged to move while the seal is awake, the native makes his advances by a series of awkward motions like those of a seal making its way over the ice. A skilful hunter sometimes gets within a few feet of the animal without arousing its fears, and an on-looker would at a distance be unable to say which figure was the seal and which the man. Seals are unusually curious, and at times one comes forward with friendly air to meet its supposed fellow. When in the desired position the hunter springs up and, running to the air-hole, attacks the animal as he tries to escape. Seals are thus captured even without a spear or other weapon, a blow on the nose from a club killing them.
The active and numerous body of Eskimo visitors were too meddlesome for Scotch patience, and Rae finally sent them away, not, however, before they had stolen, as it was later learned, a few pounds of biscuit and a large lump of fuel-grease.
Rae was now almost directly to the east of the magnetic north pole, the north-seeking end of his compass pointing eight degrees to the south of due west. Breaking camp, he turned toward the magnetic pole. Having a heavy load, he decided to cache his surplus supplies until his return, but did not dare to do so near the Eskimos. The cache was made on a rocky hill several miles inland, and it took some time to make it secure from animals and free from observation by travellers. The cache made, Rae was astonished and angry to find that the Eskimo interpreter, Ouglibuck, was gone. Rae never thought of desertion, but keen-eyed Mistegan caught sight of the Inuit fleeing to the eastward toward the camp of his native cousins. As the speediest of the party, the doctor and the Cree started after him, taking that slow dog-trot with which the Indian runners cover so much ground untiringly. It was a sharp run of five miles before the deserter was overtaken.
Rae says: "Ouglibuck was in a great fright when we came up with him, and was crying like a child, but expressed his readiness to return, and pleaded sickness as an excuse."
The doctor thought it best to diplomatically accept the statement that the deserter was sick, but none the less he deemed it wise to decrease the load hauled by the Eskimo, doing so at the expense of the half-breeds. But it was quite clear that Ouglibuck was more than willing to exchange his conditions of hard field work with scant food for the abundant seal meat and the social company of his own people, which had proved so enjoyable during his brief visit to their igloos.
This prompt action of Rae's tided over the critical phase of the expedition, and the temporary delay indirectly brought about the meeting with other natives, from whom came the first news of the missing explorers. Immediately after renewing his western journey, Rae met a native who had killed a musk-ox and was returning home with his dog-sledge laden with meat. Ouglibuck made his best efforts to reinstate himself in the good graces of Rae by persuading the Inuit stranger to make a journey of two days to the westward, thus lightening the loads of the other sledges. Another Eskimo then joined Rae, anxious to see the white men of whom he had heard from the visitors of the day previous.
The doctor asked his usual question, as a matter of form, as to the Eskimo having seen before any white men or any ships, to which he answered in the negative. On further questioning he said that he had heard of a party of kabloonans (white men), who had died of starvation a long distance to the west.
Realizing the full importance of this startling and unexpected information, Dr. Rae followed up this clew with the utmost energy, both through visits to and by questionings of all Eskimos he could find. He also extended his field efforts, during which cairns were searched and the adjoining region travelled over as far as Beecher River, about 69° N. 92° W. His original work of surveying was now made incidental to a search for Franklin!
Nor must it be thought that these journeys were made without considerable danger and much physical suffering. A half-breed, through neglect of Rae's orders regarding changes of damp foot-gear at night, froze two toes. With a courage almost heroic, this Indian labored to redeem himself by travelling along and by doing all his work for several weeks until he could scarcely stand. Imbued with the importance of his new mission, Rae allowed nothing to stand in his way of adding to his precious knowledge and to the possible chance of tracing the wanderings of the lost explorers. He left the lame man with another half-breed to care for him and to cook the food spared for them. The shiftless character of Rae's men was shown by the fact that the well man not only did not shoot anything but did not even gather saxifrage for fuel, but used scarce and precious grease food for cooking.
Yet the fortitude and pride of the cripple was displayed in the return journey, with the outer joint of his great toe sloughed off, thus making it most painful to walk; as Rae remarks, "He had too much spirit to allow himself to be hauled."
Rae's collected information was as follows:
In 1850 Eskimo families killing seals near King William Land saw about forty white men travelling southward along the west shore, dragging a boat and sledges. By signs the natives learned that their ships had been crushed and that they were going to find deer to shoot. All were hauling on the sledge except one officer. They looked thin and bought a seal from the natives. Late that year the natives found the corpses of about thirty-five men near Montreal Island and Point Ogle, part in tents and others under a boat. None of the Eskimos questioned by Rae had seen the explorers either living or dead. They learned of these matters from other natives, from whom they had obtained by barter many relics of various kinds.
Rae succeeded in purchasing about sixty articles from the Eskimos. The most important, which left no doubt of their having come from Franklin's squadron, were twenty-one pieces of silver for the table, which were marked with five different crests and with the initials of seven officers of the expedition, including Sir John Franklin.
The natives thought that some of the explorers lived until the coming of wild fowl, in May, 1850, as shots were heard and fish bones with feathers of geese were later seen near the last encampment.
Although Rae had completed his survey only in part, he wisely decided that he had, as he records, "A higher duty to attend to, that duty being to communicate with as little loss of time as possible the melancholy tidings which I had heard, and thereby save the risk of more valuable lives being jeopardized in a fruitless search in a direction where there was not the slightest prospect of obtaining any information."
As may be imagined, Rae's definite reports stirred deeply the hearts and minds of the civilized world, which for seven long years had vainly striven to rend the veil of mystery that surrounded the fate of Franklin and his men.
The silver and other articles brought back by Dr. Rae were placed in the Painted Hall of Greenwich Hospital, among the many historic relics of the royal navy. Even to-day these relics attract the attention and excite the admiration of countless visitors. And well they may, not alone as memorials of the deeds in peace of the naval heroes of England, but also as evidences of the modest courage, the stanch endurance, and heroic efforts of a Scotch doctor, John Rae, through whose arduous labors they were placed in this temple of fame.
