Sandy and my brother had now become the real leaders of the party, as the mate was too ill to issue orders. We speedily built a hut with sods and stones, and roofed it with the boat’s sails. It proved a far more comfortable abode than the cavern. We also collected all the drift-wood we could find, including that of the wrecked boat which had so nearly cost Croil his life. On examining the quantity, however, we saw that it was utterly insufficient to last us through a winter. My brother, therefore, proposed that we should cut turf and dry it during the summer, and advised that the hut should be much increased in size, with two outer chambers, by which the inner room could be approached and but a small quantity of cold air admitted. A lamp of walrus’ blubber or bear’s grease would be sufficient to warm it at night, provided that the walls were thick enough to keep out the cold. Our stock of powder being small it was necessary to husband it with the greatest care, and we therefore agreed to shoot only such animals as were necessary to supply ourselves with food.

I killed three deer and a bear which one night paid us a visit, and Sandy killed two walruses which he found asleep on the rocks. From the appearance of the ice Sandy hoped at length that he would be able to bring round the boat. For several days a huge mass had been seen floating by, carried on apparently by a strong current, while that in the bay had either melted or had been blown out by the wind. He accordingly set off with the boat’s crew, carrying provisions for several days’ consumption. Ewen and I meantime made our way northward to explore the part of the island we had not yet visited. We saw that it was of far greater extent than we had supposed, and that we should perhaps have to camp out two or three nights if we persevered in our attempt.

As Andrew had charged us to return before nightfall we were about to direct our steps homewards, when Ewen’s sharp eyes discovered a peculiar looking mound at the top of a headland some distance to the northward. As it would not delay us more than an hour we hurried on. Below the headland was a bay, on the shores of which we saw a hut. Could it be inhabited? If so we might meet with some one whose experience of the country would be of the greatest use. We were considerably disappointed on entering the hut to find it empty. It had apparently been for a long time deserted. Without delay we climbed up the top of the headland. We examined the cairn carefully, and found that it was built round and contained a bottle, on opening which I discovered a paper having a few lines apparently written with the burnt end of a stick. They were in English, but so nearly illegible that it was with difficulty I could read them. What was my surprise when I made out the words —

“Left here by the whaler Barentz. Saw her drift out to sea, beset by ice. Fear that she was overwhelmed, and all on board perished. Spent the winter here. A sloop coming into the bay, hope to be taken off by her.

“David Ogilvy.”

Here was a trace of my long-lost brother; what had since become of him? Had he got off in the sloop and returned to Europe, or had she been lost? Had the former been the case, we should have heard of him before we sailed. We hurried eagerly back to discuss the subject with Andrew. It was dark before we reached the hut. We talked and talked, but could arrive at no conclusion. Andrew feared for the worst. The boat had not arrived, indeed we scarcely expected to see her that day. Next day passed by and she did not appear. Two more days elapsed. We were constantly on the look out for her. I proposed going over to try to ascertain what had happened. The mate was getting somewhat better, and I took Andrew’s place that he might go out and take some exercise while in search of a deer. I was talking with Mr Patterson, who spoke hopefully of getting away before the winter commenced, when Ewen rushed into the hut exclaiming —

“A sail, a sail! She’s standing for the bay.”

“Go and have a look at her,” said Mr Patterson; “I was sure we should get off before long.”

I rushed down to the beach, where I found the rest of the party collected, gazing at the approaching vessel.

She was the Hardy Norseman, trim and taut. There was no doubt about the matter. On she came, gliding over the now smooth ocean. A shout of joy burst from our throats. All our troubles were over, as we thought. She stood fearlessly on, evidently piloted by one who knew the harbour, and at length came to an anchor. Her sails were furled immediately, and a boat approached the shore.

As she got nearer we saw that the boatswain was steering. His boat had then got off and fallen in with the ship. Such, indeed, he told us, as he sprang on the beach, had been the case. Had he not done so she would have passed on, supposing that we had all been lost; for, although short-handed, the captain had determined on prosecuting the fishery until the weather compelled him to return.

Carrying the mate and Croil, who – as Andrew said – had turned the corner, we were soon on board, heartily welcomed by all hands. Our hut and store of fuel were left for the benefit of any other unfortunate people who might be cast on the island, but the meat and skins were, of course, carried with us.

As the sea was now open to the northward, we sailed slowly on, the boats frequently being sent in to shoot walruses or seals, of which vast quantities were seen on the rocks and floating ice. We were now off the coast of Spitzbergen. Passing some islands, we pulled on shore in expectation of obtaining some walruses. We had killed several, when we saw among the rocks a number of eider ducks which had just laid their eggs. The first mate and boatswain, who were in command of the boats, ordered us to land with the boat-stretchers in our hands, when we rushed in among the birds, knocking them over right and left. While they lay stunned, we were directed to pull off the down from their breasts. We were thus employed for several hours, during which we collected an enormous quantity of eider down, as well as a vast number of eggs. On returning on board, the skipper sent us back for a further supply. As we obtained nearly four hundred pounds of down, and as each pound is worth a guinea in England, the skipper was well pleased with our day’s work, more so than were the poor ducks, deprived of their warm waistcoats and eggs at the same time. Happily the stern ice saves them from frequent visits of the same description.

As we were pulling along we caught sight of a walrus asleep on a rock. Without disturbing the animal, Sandy and two other men landed. His harpoon was soon plunged into the side of the walrus, while the end of the line still remained in the boat. A fierce struggle commenced. The walrus, rolling into the water with head erect and tusks upraised, came swimming towards the boat, regardless of the spears thrust at it, and had almost gained the victory, when a shot through its head put an end to its existence. The next day, having again landed, we killed a number of seals by concealing ourselves behind the rocks on the shore, while they lay enjoying the warm sun on the ice. Andrew, Ewen, and I were some what ahead of the rest of the party, when we caught sight of a bear lying down under the shelter of a hummock. We were intending to stalk him, when we saw a seal sunning itself upon the ice, some distance off. The bear crept from behind his place of shelter, and began to roll about as if also to enjoy the sun. The seal lifted up its head, when Bruin stopped, lying almost on his back, with his legs in the air, and his eyes directed towards his expected prey. The seal dropped its head, and the bear began once more to move forward, again to stop and remain perfectly motionless until the seal’s eyes were closed. Again Bruin advanced, when the seal, which must have been somewhat suspicious of the hairy creature, looked about it. For yet another time Bruin stopped, until, the seal’s suspicions once more lulled, the bear got near enough with one leap to bound upon his prey, when, before the seal was dead, he began tearing away at its flesh. We determined to put a stop to his supper. While he was thus employed and less on the watch than usual, we crept up to him and a shot through his head prevented him from gaining the water. We thus got both bear and seal.

I forgot to mention the two young bears which had been carried on board, and had become great pets with the men. We added to our menagerie a couple of young walruses, which we caught after their mothers were slaughtered. One went by the name of Dick, the other Harry. They and the bears looked suspiciously at each other, but wisely kept apart. The walruses were somewhat of a nuisance; for, being of an independent character, they walloped about the deck, and at night roared far louder than did the bears, which, frightened at the loud noise, slunk into their kennels. We fed the walruses on gruel, which seemed to suit them very well. At length, one evening while Andrew and I were seated in the cabin, as Captain Hudson was on the point of going on deck, we heard a tremendous noise, as if some huge body had fallen down, followed by a cry and some pretty severe expressions from the skipper.

On rushing out, we found him sprawling on the floor with Master Dick, who had come rolling down the hatchway, walloping and flopping on the top of him. Having extricated the captain, who was fortunately not much the worse for his tumble, we hauled the slippery little monster up on deck, and took it to its proper resting-place – a big tub in which it ought to have been confined.

Though whales were somewhat scarce, we killed walruses and seals sufficient to satisfy the skipper, a good many bears, and a vast number of birds. We continued steering north, keeping away from the land, the sea being almost entirely open, with masses of ice and occasionally icebergs floating about. Not a creature of any sort was seen on the ice, but little auks and sea parrots in vast numbers rose and perched on the gently rippling sea.

The wind having fallen we got out lines to fish for sharks, and soon caught one twelve feet in length. It was hoisted on board by a block and tackle, when, its liver being cut out, Sandy, blowing through a tube, inflated the stomach of the creature, which was then thrown overboard. The object of this was to prevent the body from sinking, when its brethren would have devoted their attention to its remains instead of to the blubber with which the hooks were baited.

We caught several in the same way. Each liver yielded almost its entire weight of a fine fish-oil, undistinguishable from cod-liver oil, though I do not know if it possesses the same qualities. Again a light breeze from the eastward springing up, we made further progress. A hail from the crow’s nest announcing that a sail was in sight made us all look out. Having a soldier’s wind we were approaching each other from opposite directions. As the stranger drew near we watched her with much interest. Captain Hudson and the first mate were examining her through their glasses.

“If that’s not the Barentz it’s her ghost!” exclaimed the captain.

“It’s a ship of her size, at all events,” observed the mate; “she looks as if she had spent a long time in the ice.”

The moment I heard this, my heart leapt with joy at the thought that we should find our brother David on board, until I recollected the cairn and the document he had left behind him. Could he, after all, have got on board his ship, or could he have been lost while she had escaped?

As the wind was very light a boat was lowered, and Andrew and I having jumped into her pulled away that we might as soon as possible learn what had happened. We were soon clambering up the stranger’s sides. On her deck stood a gaunt and famished crew. As our eyes ranged over their countenances we in vain sought that of our brother David.

“What ship is this?” was the first question we put.

“The Barentz,” answered her captain, stepping forward.

“Is David Ogilvy on board?” inquired Andrew.

“I regret to say that he is not,” answered the captain, at once quenching all our hopes. “He was on shore, when we were driven off the land and afterwards carried northward, where we were beset in the ice from which we have only just escaped. Had he been with us, the lives of some of our poor people would have been saved, and the health of all preserved.”

On hearing that our ship was the Hardy Norseman, the captain expressed his wish to come on board in our boat, all his own having been lost, or been rendered utterly unserviceable. I need not say that he received a warm welcome, while Captain Hudson promised to supply him and his crew with all the fresh provisions and antiscorbutics he could spare. The captain of the Barentz was much grieved on hearing of our fears of David’s fate. Still, as I looked at his ship, I could scarcely hope, in her battered condition, that she would reach port in safety.

Thus, had my brother remained on board it might have been his lot to perish with all the rest. Captain Hudson suggested that he and his crew should come on board. This he positively declined doing. Having got his ship out of the ice and escaped after being shut up for two winters, he fully believed that he should be able to take her home. Andrew again went on board the Barentz and prescribed for the sick men among the crew. It was not until the next day, when a breeze sprang up, that we parted company, little supposing at the time what was in store for us. We now found ourselves constantly surrounded by dense mists which made it difficult to avoid the enormous icebergs and floes, which floated on the surface of the water. Happily for us, the sea was perfectly calm, or broken into light wavelets by the gentle breeze. The ceaseless and melancholy sound produced by the waste of ice disturbed the silence which would otherwise have reigned over the ocean world.

Sad and solemn was the picture presented to us by the unbroken procession of icebergs, which, like the ghosts in Macbeth, floated by to disappear in the warmer regions of the south. Constantly, too, there came the roar of the ocean swell as it broke among the icebergs and caverns, or the splash of water like a distant cataract as it fell from the lofty summits of the bergs, mingling with the crackling noise emitted by the masses of ice as they struck each other or their summits were broken off. Sometimes an iceberg would overturn or the top come hurtling down with a crash into the sea, covering the water with foam, and sending the birds which had perched there flying in all directions to seek a more secure resting-place.

We were now never without the light of the sun. According to its nearness to the horizon, the effects produced varied greatly. During the night the sky was of a deep ultramarine, while the icebergs, clothed with a rosy hue, appeared to have gone to sleep. Even the cascades from the bergs ceased to flow, and few sounds broke the silence. Sea-gulls and divers could be seen sitting round the edge of a floe with their heads under their wings. The whole region presented a strange and weird aspect. On we sailed, the icebergs at every mile becoming more numerous and of larger dimensions. As I looked ahead it seemed impossible that we could force our way between them, or escape being crushed by the vast masses which ever and anon came toppling down from their summits, but the desire to obtain a full ship lured us on.

As the sun rising in the heavens sent down his warm rays, we could see numerous seals basking on the floes, or on some projecting point of a berg. Some of the boats were constantly engaged in shooting or harpooning the creatures, while others were kept in readiness to go in chase of the walruses which frequently made their appearance, though we did not always succeed in getting near them, as, diving beneath a ’berg, they did not rise again until the opposite side was reached.

The mate and Croil were now perfectly recovered, and enabled to take a part in everything going forward. Their services were required, for, in consequence of the hands we had lost, we all had work enough to do. I went in one of the boats, whenever I could get a chance. I was bound otherwise to remain on board and assist in managing the ship while they were away. Frequently we had enough to do, as we floated among the bergs and floes, to escape those which came drifting towards us, driven on by some under-current, more than by the wind. The broken state of the ice induced our captain to believe that we should as easily get out of it as we had made our way into its midst. He was more inclined to this opinion, when we suddenly found ourselves in the open sea with scarcely a floe or berg in sight. Had we met with whales we might have cruised about in chase of them, and not proceeded further, but only a few appeared ahead to the northward, and those we failed to kill.

“Never fear, lads,” said the captain as the boats returned on board, the men looking blank at their want of success. “We shall fall in with plenty more in the course of a day or so, or it may be in a few hours, and we may still get a full ship, and be south again before the summer days begin to shorten.”

The pack-ice, Captain Hudson told us, was this year much further north than he had ever known it, but he thought that a good sign, and he hoped to find lanes through which we might make our way into ponds seldom reached by whalers, where we might kill the fish faster than we could flense them.

Voyagers during the Arctic summer day require sleep as much as at other times, though often it has to be obtained at very unequal intervals. Having been awake for the best part of twenty hours, I had turned in – I don’t know whether to call it one night or one day – when I was aroused by a tremendous blow on the ship’s bows, which made her quiver from stem to stern. I was rushing on deck with my clothes in my hands, not knowing what might happen, when I found that she was forcing her way through a stream of ice, and that ice surrounded her on every side. A strongish breeze was blowing, and the canvas was being reduced to prevent another such encounter, which might produce serious consequences. Finding that nothing was really the matter, I quickly dived below again to put on my clothes, when I once more hurried on deck. As I was looking round my eye was attracted by a dark object at some distance on the starboard bow. I pointed it out to the captain, whose glass was directed towards it. “It is a vessel of some sort. A Russian or Norwegian sloop. She has been nipped probably, for she seems to lie on the ice, out of the water; but whether her crew are still on board, or have made their escape in their boats, it is hard to say.”

“We must go and ascertain,” exclaimed Andrew; “our brother David was taken off by a vessel of that description, and for what we can tell, he may be on board.”

“It will be impossible to reach her,” answered the captain; “there is no lane leading in that direction. If you attempt to cross the ice it may open at any moment, giving you little chance of escaping with your lives.”

Still Andrew entreated that he might go, and proposed making an expedition, three or four of us joining ourselves together by a long rope. We consulted the boatswain, who at once volunteered to form one of the party, as did Ewen and Croil. The captain, after ascending to the crow’s nest to examine the ice, gave us leave, and allowed us to take one of the boats which would carry us part of the way, charging us, however, not to delay a moment longer than was necessary. Quickly procuring a long rope, we jumped into the boat and pulled ahead of the ship, along a lane which opened out to the eastward. Our further progress was soon stopped. Having fastened ourselves together at the distance of four or five fathoms, each provided with a long pole, we leapt on the ice, Sandy taking the lead, we three lighter ones followed, and my brother brought up the rear. We had some hummocks to climb over, but generally the surface was level, and we made rapid progress, but still the sloop appeared much farther off than I had supposed. I saw Sandy try the ice when he was doubtful of its consistency, as he went along; but, satisfied that it would bear him and consequently any of us, he pushed forward.

I eagerly looked out expecting to see some people appear on the deck of the sloop. As we drew nearer I uttered a loud shout in which my companions joined, but no one replied. Could all those on board be dead, or had she, as the captain supposed, been deserted? I asked myself; and the dread seized me that we should find David frozen or starved to death. Such things had too often occurred before, and might have happened in this instance. In my eagerness I could not help shouting to Sandy to go on faster.

“More speed the less chance we shall have of getting there, my boy,” he answered, stopping to strike the ice in front of him with his pole. He drove it through. “There, you and I should probably have had a cold bath,” he observed as he turned aside to find more secure footing.

We had to make a considerable round to a sort of bridge, where two floes had overlapped. We crossed safely, and now the sloop appeared not a quarter of a mile ahead, her dark hull partly heeling over, and her shattered mast standing out sharply against the white back-ground. The distance was soon passed over. Once more we shouted out before we began to clamber on her deck. Sandy and I, being the first up, eagerly looked down into her after cabin. It was half full of water. No one could be seen; so hurrying on to the other hatchways, we peered down them. It was tolerably evident that no one, alive or dead, was there. So far, then, our worst fears were not realised.

“Look here!” said Sandy to me, “the crew may have made their escape in their boats and have been picked up by another craft. See, the sails are unbent and all the ropes carried off. If it was worth while getting a wetting we should find that nothing remains of value below, either fore or aft.”

That such was the case, a further examination fully convinced us. Still Andrew and I would have been thankful if we could have discovered some traces of our brother, should this have been the sloop he had got on board. The boatswain, however, remarked that numbers of vessels of the same description came northward during the summer, that it was just as likely he had never set foot on her deck, and that we might find he had got home safe before us.

According to our promise, the instant our inspection was over, we commenced our return journey. As the ice was becoming firm, we cast off the ropes and separated from one another, each man taking his own course. I thus got to a considerable distance from my companions. I was still some way off the edge of the floe, though in sight of the ship, and could make out the boat approaching to take us off, when up started from behind a hummock a huge polar bear, which probably mistook me for a walrus or seal, and therefore its lawful prey. My first impulse was to run, instead of Standing still and facing my enemy as I ought to have done. I had very nearly gained the edge when what was my horror to see that the bear was within twenty paces of me. A glance round showed me the boat, still some way off, while my companions were at too great a distance to afford me assistance. I now did what I should have done at first, stopped and rammed a bullet into my rifle. The bear stopped also, sitting up on its haunches, to examine me more particularly. Could I have got off my shaggy coat, I would have thrown it at him, to attract his attention, for I guessed his next movement would be to bound upon me and press me in his terrific embrace. All I could do, however, was to throw my cap at him, when, dropping down on all fours, he began to smell at it. Now was my time to fire a shot which I hoped might kill him. Should I miss, I knew too well that I had not the remotest chance of escape. Mustering all my nerve, I levelled my rifle and pulled the trigger. The bullet must have gone through his brain, for, without making another move, he rolled over and giving one struggle was dead.

I should have fallen on the ice and rendered thanks to heaven for my preservation, but in reality I could not for some seconds move a muscle. I could scarcely persuade myself that the huge monster, which had just before appeared so terrible, was now a mass of flesh.

The shouts of my companions in the boat who had seen the occurrence aroused me, and, soon arriving, with the rest of the party, they hauled the huge carcase on board the boat, and we returned in triumph to the ship.