The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras. Жюль Верн

to him and to Dr. Clawbonny. The Forward was built and equipped. Hatteras kept his name a secret; otherwise no one would have gone with him. He resolved only to take command of the brig at some critical juncture, and when his crew had gone too far to be able to retreat; he kept in reserve, as we have seen, the power of making generous offers to the men, so that they would follow him to the end of the world.

      In fact, it was to the end of the world that he wanted to go.

      Now matters looked very serious, and John Hatteras made himself known.

      His dog, the faithful Duke, the companion of his expeditions, was the first to recognize him, and fortunately for the bold, and unfortunately for the timid, it was firmly established that the captain of the Forward was John Hatteras.

      CHAPTER XIII

      THE CAPTAIN'S PLANS

      The appearance of this famous person was variously received by the different members of the crew: some allied themselves strongly with him, moved both by boldness and by avarice; others took renewed interest in the expedition, but they reserved to themselves the right of protesting later; besides, at that time, it was hard to make any resistance to such a man. Hence every man went back to his place. The 20th of May was Sunday, and consequently a day of rest for the crew.

      The officers took counsel together in the doctor's cabin; there were present Hatteras, Shandon, Wall, Johnson, and the doctor.

      "Gentlemen," said the captain, with his peculiarly gentle but impressive voice, "you know my project of going to the Pole; I want to get your opinion of the undertaking. What do you think about it, Shandon?"

      "I have not to think, Captain," answered Shandon, coldly; "I have only to obey."

      Hatteras was not surprised at this answer.

      "Richard Shandon," he resumed with equal coldness, "I ask your opinion about our probable chance of success."

      "Well, Captain," answered Shandon, "facts must answer for me; all attempts hitherto have failed; I hope we may be more fortunate."

      "We shall be. And, gentlemen, what do you think?"

      "As for me," replied the doctor, "I consider your design practicable, Captain; and since there is no doubt but that at some time or other explorers will reach the Pole, I don't see why we should not do it."

      "There are very good reasons why we should," answered Hatteras, "for we have taken measures to make it possible, and we shall profit by the experience of others. And, Shandon, you must accept my thanks for the care you have given to the equipment of the brig; there are some ill-disposed men in the crew, whom I shall soon bring to reason; but on the whole, I can give nothing but praise."

      Shandon bowed coldly. His position on the Forward, of which he had thought himself commander, was a false one. Hatteras understood this, and said nothing more about it.

      "As for you, gentlemen," he resumed, addressing Wall and Johnson, "I could not myself have chosen officers more skilled and intrepid."

      "On my word, Captain, I am your man," answered Johnson; "and although I think your plan a very bold one, you can count on me to the end."

      "And on me too," said Wall.

      "As for you, Doctor, I know your worth – "

      "Well, you know then a great deal more than I do," answered the doctor, quickly.

      "Now, gentlemen," said Hatteras, "it is well that you should know on what good grounds I have made up my mind about the accessibility of the Pole. In 1817 the Neptune, of Aberdeen, went to the north of Spitzbergen, as far as latitude 82°. In 1826 the celebrated Parry, after his third voyage in polar seas, started also from the extremity of Spitzbergen, and on sledges went one hundred and fifty miles farther north. In 1852, Captain Inglefield reached, through Smith's Sound, latitude 78° 35'. All these were English ships, and were commanded by Englishmen, our fellow-countrymen."

      Here Hatteras paused.

      "I ought to add," he resumed with some formality, and as if he could hardly bring himself to utter the words, – "I ought to add that in 1854 the American, Captain Kane, in the brig Advance, went still farther north, and that his lieutenant, Morton, journeying over the ice, hoisted the United States flag beyond the eighty-second degree. Having once said this, I shall not return to it. Now the main point is that the captains of the Neptune, the Enterprise, the Isabella, and the Advance agree in the statement that beyond these high latitudes there is an open polar sea, entirely free from ice."

      "Free from ice!" cried Shandon, interrupting the captain, "it's impossible!"

      "You will notice, Shandon," observed Hatteras, quietly, while his eye lighted up for an instant, "that I quote both facts and authorities. I must add that in 1851, when Penny was stationed by the side of Wellington Channel, his lieutenant, Stewart, found himself in the presence of an open sea, and that his report was confirmed when, in 1853, Sir Edward Belcher wintered in Northumberland Bay, in latitude 76° 52', and longitude 99° 20'; these reports are indisputable, and one must be very incredulous not to admit them."

      "Still, Captain," persisted Shandon, "facts are as contradictory – "

      "You're wrong, Shandon, you're wrong!" cried Dr. Clawbonny; "facts never contradict a scientific statement; the captain will, I trust, excuse me."

      "Go on, Doctor!" said Hatteras.

      "Well, listen to this, Shandon; it results very clearly from geographical facts, and from the study of isothermal lines, that the coldest spot on the globe is not on the Pole itself; like the magnetic pole, it lies a few degrees distant. So the calculations of Brewster, Berghaus, and other physicists prove that in our hemisphere there are two poles of extreme cold: one in Asia in latitude 79° 30' N., and longitude 120° E.; the other is in America, in latitude 78° N., and longitude 97° W. This last alone concerns us, and you see, Shandon, that it is more than twelve degrees below the Pole. Well, I ask you why, then, the sea should not be as free from ice as it often is in summer in latitude 66°, that is to say, at the southern end of Baffin's Bay?"

      "Well put," answered Johnson; "Dr. Clawbonny talks of those things like a man who understands them."

      "It seems possible," said James Wall.

      "Mere conjectures! nothing but hypotheses!" answered Shandon, obstinately.

      "Well, Shandon," said Hatteras, "let us consider the two cases; either the sea is free from ice, or it is not, and in neither case will it be impossible to reach the Pole. If it is free, the Forward will take us there without difficulty; if it is frozen, we must try to reach it over the ice by our sledges. You will confess that it is not impracticable; having once come with our brig to latitude 83°, we shall have only about six hundred miles between us and the Pole."

      "And what are six hundred miles," said the doctor, briskly, "when it is proved that a Cossack, Alexis Markoff, went along the frozen sea, north of Russia, on sledges drawn by dogs, for a distance of eight hundred miles, in twenty-four days?"

      "You hear him, Shandon," answered Hatteras, "and will you say that an Englishman cannot do as much as a Cossack?"

      "Never!" cried the enthusiastic doctor.

      "Never!" repeated the boatswain.

      "Well, Shandon?" asked the captain.

      "Captain," answered Shandon, coldly, "I can only repeat what I have said, – I shall obey you."

      "Well. Now," continued Hatteras, "let us consider our present situation; we are caught in the ice, and it seems to me impossible for us to reach Smith's Sound this year. This is what we must do."

      Hatteras unfolded on the table one of the excellent charts published in 1859 by the order of the Admiralty.

      "Be good enough to look here. If Smith's Sound is closed, Lancaster Sound is not, to the west of Baffin's Bay; in my opinion, we ought to go up this sound as far as Barrow Strait, and thence to Beechey Island. This has been done a hundred times by sailing-vessels; we shall have no difficulty, going under steam. Once at Beechey Island, we shall follow Wellington Sound as far northward as possible, to where it meets the channel,