PART I.THE ENGLISH AT THE NORTH POLE.
AVENTURES DU CAPITAINE HATTERAS]
CHAPTER I.THE FORWARD.
"To-morrow, at the turn of the tide, the brig _Forward_, K. Z.,captain, Richard Shandon, mate, will clear from New Prince's Docks;destination unknown."
This announcement appeared in the _Liverpool Herald_ of April 5, 1860.
The sailing of a brig is not a matter of great importance for thechief commercial city of England. Who would take notice of it in sogreat a throng of ships of all sizes and of every country, thatdry-docks covering two leagues scarcely contain them?
Nevertheless, from early morning on the 6th of April, a large crowdcollected on the quays of the New Prince's Docks; all the sailors ofthe place seemed to have assembled there. The workingmen of theneighboring wharves had abandoned their tasks, tradesmen had lefttheir gloomy shops, and the merchants their empty warehouses. Themany-colored omnibuses which pass outside of the docks weredischarging, every minute, their load of sight-seers; the whole cityseemed to care for nothing except watching the departure of the_Forward_.
The _Forward_ was a vessel of one hundred and seventy tons, rigged asa brig, and carrying a screw and a steam-engine of one hundred andtwenty horse-power. One would have very easily confounded it with theother brigs in the harbor. But if it presented no especial differenceto the eye of the public, yet those who were familiar with shipsnoticed certain peculiarities which could not escape a sailor's keenglance.
Thus, on the _Nautilus_, which was lying at anchor near her, a groupof sailors were trying to make out the probable destination of the_Forward_.
"What do you say to her masts?" said one; "steamers don't usuallycarry so much sail."
"It must be," answered a red-faced quartermaster, "that she reliesmore on her sails than on her engine; and if her topsails are of thatsize, it's probably because the lower sails are to be laid back. SoI'm sure the _Forward_ is going either to the Arctic or AntarcticOcean, where the icebergs stop the wind more than suits a solid ship."
"You must be right, Mr. Cornhill," said a third sailor. "Do you noticehow straight her stem is?"
"Besides," said Mr. Cornhill, "she carries a steel ram forward, assharp as a razor; if the _Forward_, going at full speed, should runinto a three-decker, she would cut her in two."
"That's true," answered a Mersey pilot, "for that brig can easily runfourteen knots under steam. She was a sight to see on her trial trip.On my word, she's a swift boat."
"And she goes well, too, under sail," continued the quartermaster;"close to the wind, and she's easily steered. Now that ship is goingto the polar seas, or my name is not Cornhill. And then, see there! Doyou notice that large helm-port over the head of her rudder?"
"That's so," said some of the sailors; "but what does that prove?"
"That proves, my men," replied the quartermaster with a scornfulsmile, "that you can neither see nor think; it proves that they wantedto leave the head of the rudder free, so that it might be unshippedand shipped again easily. Don't you know that's what they have to dovery often in the ice?"
"You are right," answered the sailors of the _Nautilus_.
"And besides," said one, "the lading of the brig goes to prove whatMr. Cornhill has said. I heard it from Clifton, who has shipped onher. The _Forward_ carries provisions for five or six years, and coalin proportion. Coal and provisions are all she carries, and a quantityof woollen and sealskin clothing."
"Well," said Mr. Cornhill, "there's no doubt about it. But, my friend,since you know Clifton, hasn't he told you where she's bound?"
"He couldn't tell me, for he didn't know; the whole crew was shippedin that way. Where is he going? He won't know till he gets there."
"Nor yet if they are going to Davy Jones's locker," said one scoffer,"as it seems to me they are."
"But then, their pay," continued the friend of Cliftonenthusiastically,--"their pay! it's five times what a sailor usuallygets. If it had not been for that, Richard Shandon would not have gota man. A strangely shaped boat, going no one knows where, and as if itnever intended coming back! As for me, I should not have cared to shipin her."
"Whether you would or not," answered Mr. Cornhill, "you could neverhave shipped in the _Forward_."
"Why not?"
"Because you would not have answered the conditions. I heard thatmarried men were not taken. Now you belong to that class. So you neednot say what you would or would not do, since it's all breath thrownaway."
The sailor who was thus snubbed burst out laughing, as did hiscompanions, showing in this way that Mr. Cornhill's remarks were true.
"There's nothing but boldness about the ship," continued Cornhill,well pleased with himself. "The _Forward_,--forward to what? Withoutsaying that nobody knows who her captain is."
"O, yes, they do!" said a young sailor, evidently a green-hand.
"What! They do know?"
"Of course."
"My young friend," said Cornhill, "do you think Shandon is the captainof the _Forward_?"
"Why--" answered the boy.
"Shandon is only the mate, nothing else; he's a good and brave sailor,an old whaler, a good fellow, able to take command, but he's not thecaptain; he's no more captain than you or I. And who, under God, isgoing to have charge of the ship, he does not know in the least. Atthe proper time the captain will come aboard, I don't know how, and Idon't know where; for Richard Shandon didn't tell me, nor has he leaveto tell me in what direction he was first to sail."
"Still, Mr. Cornhill," said the young sailor, "I can tell you thatthere's some one on board, some one who was spoken of in the letter inwhich Mr. Shandon was offered the place of mate."
"What!" answered Cornhill, "do you mean to tell me that the _Forward_has a captain on board?"
"Yes, Mr. Cornhill."
"You tell me that?"
"Certainly, for I heard it from Johnson, the boatswain."
"Boatswain Johnson?"
"Yes, he told me himself."
"Johnson told you?"
"Not only did he tell me, but he showed him to me."
"He showed him to you!" answered Cornhill in amazement.
"He showed him to me."
"And you saw him?"
"I saw him with my own eyes."
"And who is it?"
"It's a dog."
"A dog?"
"A four-footed dog?"
"Yes."
The surprise of the sailors of the _Nautilus_ was great. Under anyother circumstances they would have burst out laughing. A dog captainof a one hundred and seventy ton brig! It was certainly amusingenough. But the _Forward_ was such an extraordinary ship, that onethought twice before laughing, and before contradicting it. Besides,Quartermaster Cornhill showed no signs of laughing.
"And Johnson showed you that new sort of captain, a dog?" he said tothe young sailor. "And you saw him?"
"As plainly as I see you, with all respect."
"Well, what do you think of that?" asked the sailors, turning toCornhill.
"I don't think anything," he answered curtly, "except that the_Forward_ is a ship of the Devil, or of fools fit for Bedlam."
Without saying more, the sailors continued to gaze at the _Forward_,which was now almost ready to depart; and there was no one of them whopresumed to say that Johnson, the boatswain, had been making fun ofthe young sailor.
This story of the dog had already spread through the city, and in thecrowd of sight-seers there were many looking for the captain-dog, whowere inclined to believe that he was some supernatural animal.
Besides, for many months the _Forward_ had been attracting the publicattention; the singularity of its build, the mystery which enshroudedit, the incognito maintained by the captain, the manner in whichRichard Shandon received the proposition of superintending its outfit,the careful selection of the crew, its unknown destination, scarcelyconjectured by any,--all combined to give this brig a reputation ofsomething more than strangeness.
For a thoughtful
, dreamy mind, for a philosopher, there is hardlyanything more touching than the departure of a ship; the imaginationis ready to follow her in her struggles with the waves, her contestswith the winds, in her perilous course, which does not always end inport; and if only there is something unusual about her, the shipappears like something fantastic, even to the least imaginative minds.
So it was with the _Forward_. And if most of the spectators wereunable to make the ingenious remarks of Quartermaster Cornhill, therumors which had been prevailing for three months were enough to keepall the tongues of Liverpool busy.
The brig had been built at Birkenhead, a suburb of the city on theleft bank of the Mersey, and connected with it by numerousferry-boats.
The builders, Scott & Co., as skilful as any in England, had receivedfrom Richard Shandon careful plans and drawings, in which the tonnage,dimensions, and model of the brig were given with the utmostexactness. They bore proof of the work of an experienced sailor. SinceShandon had ample means at his command, the work began, and, inaccordance with the orders of the unknown owner, proceeded rapidly.
Every care was taken to have the brig made exceedingly strong; it wasevidently intended to withstand enormous pressure, for its ribs ofteak, an East Indian wood remarkable for its solidity, were furtherstrengthened by thick iron braces. The sailors used to ask why thehull of a ship, which was intended to be so strong, was not made ofiron like other steamers. But they were told that the mysteriousdesigner had his own reasons for having it built in that way.
Gradually the shape of the brig on the stocks could be clearly madeout, and the strength and beauty of her model were clear to the eye ofall competent judges. As the sailors of the _Nautilus_ had said, herstem formed a right angle with the keel, and she carried, not a ram,but a steel cutter from the foundry of R. Hawthorn, of Newcastle. Thismetallic prow, glistening in the sun, gave a singular appearance tothe brig, although there was nothing warlike about it. However, asixteen-pound gun was placed on her forecastle; its carriage was soarranged that it could be pointed in any direction. The same thing canbe said of the cannon as of her bows, neither were positively warlike.
On the 5th of February, 1860, this strange vessel was successfullylaunched in the sight of an immense number of spectators.
But if the brig was not a man-of-war, nor a merchant-vessel, nor apleasure-yacht, for no one takes a pleasure trip with provisions forsix years in the hold, what could she be?
A ship intended for the search of the _Erebus_ and the _Terror_, andof Sir John Franklin? No; for in 1859, the previous year, CaptainMacClintock had returned from the Arctic Ocean, with convincing proofof the loss of that ill-fated expedition.
Did the _Forward_ want to try again the famous Northwest Passage? Whatfor? Captain MacClure had discovered it in 1853, and his lieutenant,Cresswell, had the honor of first skirting the American continent fromBehring Strait to Davis Strait.
It was nevertheless absolutely certain to all competent observers thatthe _Forward_ was preparing for a voyage to icy regions. Was it goingto push towards the South Pole, farther than the whaler Wedell,farther than Captain James Ross? But what was the use, and with whatintention?
It is easy to see that, although the field for conjecture was verylimited, the imagination could easily lose itself.
The day after the launching of the brig her machinery arrived from thefoundry of R. Hawthorn at Newcastle.
The engine, of one hundred and twenty horse-power, with oscillatingcylinders, took up but little space; its force was large for a vesselof one hundred and seventy tons, which carried a great deal of sail,and was, besides, remarkably swift. Of her speed the trial trips leftno doubt, and even the boatswain, Johnson, had seen fit to express hisopinion to the friend of Clifton in these terms,--
"When the _Forward_ is under both steam and sail, she gets the mostspeed from her sails."
Clifton's friend had not understood this proposition, but heconsidered anything possible in a ship commanded by a dog.
After the engines had been placed on board, the stowage of provisionsbegan; and that was no light task, for she carried enough for sixyears. They consisted of salted and dried meats, smoked fish, biscuit,and flour; mountains of coffee and tea were deposited in thestore-room. Richard Shandon superintended the arrangement of thisprecious cargo with the air of a man who perfectly understood hisbusiness; everything was put in its place, labelled, and numbered withperfect precision; at the same time there was stowed away a largequantity of pemmican, an Indian preparation, which contains a greatdeal of nutriment in a small compass.
This sort of supply left no doubt as to the length of the cruise; butan experienced observer would have known at once that the _Forward_was to sail in polar waters, from the barrels of lime-juice, of limelozenges, of bundles of mustard, sorrel, and of cochlearia,--in aword, from the abundance of powerful antiscorbutics, which are sonecessary in journeys in the regions of the far north and south.Shandon had doubtless received word to take particular care about thispart of the cargo, for he gave to it especial attention, as well as tothe ship's medicine-chest.
If the armament of the vessel was small enough to calm the timidsouls, on the other hand, the magazine was filled with enough powderto inspire some uneasiness. The single gun on the forecastle could notpretend to require so large a supply. This excited curiosity. Therewere, besides, enormous saws and strong machinery, such as levers,masses of lead, hand-saws, huge axes, etc., without counting arespectable number of blasting-cylinders, which might have blown upthe Liverpool custom-house. All this was strange, if not alarming, notto mention the rockets, signals, lights, and lanterns of every sort.
Then, too, the numerous spectators on the quays of the New Prince'sDocks gazed with admiration at a long mahogany whale-boat, a tin canoecovered with gutta-percha, and a number of halkett-boats, which are asort of india-rubber cloaks, which can be inflated and thereby turnedinto canoes. Every one felt more and more puzzled, and even excited,for with the turn of the tide the _Forward_ was to set sail for itsunknown destination.