THE RESCUE AND EXPEDITION BOAT WRECKED. 143

ing surges driving over her decks, as the snow-storm poured its heavy drift around, even as if it were a wondrous funeral shroud, so did the doomed craft meet its fate.

So, too, was my expedition boat torn from its moorings, and, sharing the Rescue's sad end, doomed me also to a wreck of disappointment in the hopes I had cherished concerning her. And all this we saw as, with startled gaze and anxious thought, we stood on deck, powerless to save, and equally powerless to avert our own doom, if it should come.

The night passed on. The morning light slowly and cheerlessly pierced through the increasing thickness of falling snow as it flew past us on the driving wind. Dimly at first, then more distinctly, but still in dread spectre-like form, loomed up the rugged island scene, with its wrecks and desolation. Figures all but indistinct were moving about, and the two ships were pounding upon the rocks, tearing at their anchors as if in the most convulsive death-throes. The Rescue was on her broadside, with her bow easterly, and evidently breaking up. The Georgiana, being in a more sheltered spot, appeared to be less hurt. But it was necessary to do something, if possible, to release the men from their position on shore, and get them on board of us, for we seemed now likely to hold on. Accordingly, the moment a lull in the wind took place, which was at 9 A.M. of the 27th, a whale-boat was carefully lowered and passed astern. Into it two brave hearts, Mate Rogers and a seaman, stepped, with a view of venturing through the boiling waves and surf to try and assist their wrecked comrades. Cautiously the boat was allowed to drift off toward the island, a strong and good line of great length attached to it from the ship. Skillfully was it guided over the seas and through the breakers. Mate Rogers and his bold companion well and nobly did their work. In a few moments the boat was under the Rescue's projecting bowsprit, and speedily, though requiring exceeding care, Captain Tyson, his crew, and those who had been on board of the schooner got into her. A short time more, and all were standing safely on the George Henry's deck.

At noon both the stranded ships were pounding very heavily on the rocks, and jumping their anchors in such a manner as to cause the two vessels to move their position more round the island, though in opposite directions. Thus it continued throughout all of the 27th, the wind increasing rather than the contrary. But on the following morning the gale abated, and at nine o'clock

a party of our people managed to get on shore. We found the larboard side of the Rescue badly stove, but the Georgiana, by being in a much less exposed place, was perfectly tight, and comparatively uninjured. Her crew soon afterward took possession of her again, and ultimately she was got off the rocks, and once more anchored in deep water.

As for the Rescue, after a careful examination, it was found she was too far damaged to be repaired with any means at our command. Accordingly, it was determined to totally abandon her; and this was put in execution the following day by clearing her hold of all the contents, and saving whatever was valuable of her material.

I went on shore to examine what remained of the schooner, and also to look after my expedition boat. I found my boat totally wrecked, nothing remaining but the stern-post fast to a three-inch cable. It appeared that during a part of the gale she had been driven high up on the rocks, and though the Georgiana's crew endeavored to save her by additional fastenings, her fate was sealed. The tempestuous elements would not allow her to escape, and she was broken to pieces in the fury of the storm.

I need not say how much I grieved at the loss of my boat. To me it was irreparable, and for a time I was nearly overcome by the blow; but I reasoned that all things were for the best in the hands of a good Providence, and I therefore bent submissively to His will.

The natives who had been on board of the Georgiana were on the island when I landed. They had found the sail of my boat, and turned it to account as a shelter, and now were as happy and merry as though nothing unusual had occurred.

The Rescue, when I examined her, was high and dry on the rocks, with her bottom stove in. I mounted her side (her decks were inclining to the shore at an angle of 45°); I entered her cabin, looked into her hold, and again descended outside, going under and around her. Then, as I gazed at her battered hull; grieving at the end she had come to, what a number of interesting associations crowded upon my mind. She had been of the "United States' Grinnell Expedition" in search of Sir John Franklin in 1850-1, being the consort of the Advance, in which latter vessel Dr. Kane afterward made that memorable voyage (the second Grinnell Expedition) in search of Franklin in 1853-5. The Rescue's quondam consort, after having given forth freely of its

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planks and timbers for the preservation and warmth of Dr. Kane and his party, was finally given up to the ices of the North which unrelentingly grasped it. The Advance was abandoned Sunday, May 20th, 1855, in Rensselaer Harbor, lat. 78° 37' N., and long. 70° 40' W. Five years, four months, and seven days after this occurred the total wreck of the Rescue, in a harbor named after her, situated in lat. 62° 52' N., and long. 64° 44' W., nearly due south of her former consort.

After well examining the Rescue, I went to the wreck of Koojesse's whale-boat, lying on the windward side of the island. This boat had been fast to the schooner's stern, and, of course, went on the rocks at the same time. She had originally belonged to Kudlago, having been given to him in 1858. When Kudlago left for the States in 1859, he gave the boat to Koojesse to use until his return.*

I may add here that an oomien (woman's or family boat) belonging to the natives went adrift during the storm and became a total wreck. A boat of this kind is of great value to the Esquimaux, and, when lost, is to them something akin to the loss of a first-class ship to us at home.

I must now say a few words concerning myself. Even in the midst of the howling tempest, when our own safety on board the George Henry was a matter of doubt, my thoughts kept turning to what I should do, now that my expedition boat was lost. But it did not take me long to consider. I was determined that, God willing, nothing should daunt me; I would persevere if there was the smallest chance to proceed. If one plan failed—if one disas ter came, then another plan should be tried, and the disaster remedied to the best of my power. Thus, without delay, and while yet the hurricane blasts made the ship tremble beneath us, as the captain and I stood on her deck, I asked him if one of the ship's boats could be spared me to prosecute my voyage to King William's Land, now that my own little craft was wrecked. His reply, after some consideration, was favorable; but, when the time approached for my departure, it was found the one that alone could be spared to me was frail, rotten, and not seaworthy.

* Before I close this account of the Rescue's wreck and the loss of my expedition boat, with the escape of the George Henry, it may be interesting to mention that this latter vessel did not live through another voyage after her return to the States in 1862. She was wrecked the 16th day of July, 1863, on one of the lower Savage Islands in Hudson's Strait, about 100 miles farther south than Rescue Harbor. The particulars will be found in the Appendix (6).

K

On the 1st of October the Georgiana, having made good her defects so far as she could, left the harbor under all sail for Northumberland Inlet to winter. By her I forwarded letters to friends at home, should she meet, as was expected, with whalers returning to England.

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CHAPTER VIII.

Splendid Displays of the Aurora.—"The World on Fire."— Arrival of Captain Parker in the True-love.—Visit to his Ship.—Nikujar the Pilot.—Anecdotes of Parker's Arctic Experiences.—First Interview with the Innuits Ebierbing and Tookoolito.—Their previous Visit to England and Presentation to Royalty.—The Accomplishments of Tookoolito. — Eenoolooapik. —A Walk on Shore. — Snowstorm.—A natural Causeway.—Fluctuations of the Compass Needle.—Tookoolito at Work.—She tries to Educate her People.—Her Power to do Good.—Advantages of a Mission Colony.—Difference of Language among the Esquimaux.— Carl Petersen, M'Clintock's Interpreter.—Tookoolito rebuking Swearers.

For several days now our life was of a very monotonous description, except so far as varied by the visits of Esquimaux, who were frequently on board performing different avocations more or less useful to us. Scrubbing the cabin floor, sewing and dressing sealskins, were some of the occupations that engrossed their time. Occasionally the younger members were ready pupils under my hand in trying to learn whatever I could teach them of civilized education.

But at this time the phenomena of Nature frequently gave me intense delight. The aurora, in all its glorious brilliancy, shone forth on several nights, and often did I linger on deck gazing upon it, with my soul entranced by the sight. It is impossible for me to give a just and full description of the immeasurable beauty and grandeur of such a scene. All I can attempt to do is to put before the reader my thoughts an4 sensations at the several times, as recorded in my journal.

"November 23, 1860. A few places at six o'clock this evening where the cerulean sky and stars can be seen. While standing on deck near the bow of the vessel, viewing Mars in its meridian passage at this place, all at once a bright, beautiful beam of aurora shot up midway between the star and the moon. The moon― some 39° or 40° east of Mars—was shining brightly, but above and below it were cirri cumuli clouds. Between the planets all was clear. The aurora beams increased rapidly. They were of prismatic colors to-night, pea-green predominating. Oh that I could pen or pencil the beauty of this display! The kind of clouds which I have named are the most distant of any. The