Chapter V

JOURNEY BY SLEDGE TO THE FLIGELY FJORD. DISCOVERY OF
COAL LAYERS ON KUHN ISLAND. 14TH TO 21ST
SEPT., 1869.[48]

Our outfittings.--Departure on 14th September.--First night
under tents.--Passage of Clavering Straits in sledges.--Cape
Hamburg.--A Polar bear shot.--The Fligely Fjord.--Ascent of a
mountain-peak 4050 feet high.--The prospect therefrom.--The
Fligely Fjord connected with Ardencaple Bay.--Scientific
labours of Lieutenant Payer.--Return to the tent.--An Arctic
night.--Back to the ship.--Discovery of coal strata on Kuhn
Island by Lieutenant Payer.--Arrival at the ship on 21st
September.

The temperature was now settled at one degree below freezing point, and although in the neighbourhood of Pendulum Island the young ice was destroyed by the wind as soon as formed, the ground on land was frozen hard, and the watery pools on the firm land-ice were already covered with a coating of ice, so thick as to be able to bear the weight of sledges and men. Now was the fittest time for our proposed sledge-journey to the west; and on the same day, the 13th, all necessary preparations were made. It was the first of any importance that we had undertaken, and though, from works on the Arctic regions, we understood something of the ways and means of carrying it out, none of us had any practical experience, so that our arrangements eventually proved to be somewhat deficient. As, on our departure from home, the prevailing idea was that the greatest and most substantial discoveries must be made with the ship, our instructions spoke only of probable glacier excursions to the interior of the country, and not of extensive sledge journeys along the coast and the banks of the Fjord. At the outfitting in Bremen there was, therefore, no provision made for these, and our sledge apparatus (tents, coverings, and so on) was not quite what it ought to have been.

During the summer we had learnt from experience that the round tent with a pole in the centre, which we had brought from Bremen, was not practically useful; it was, therefore, changed into a four-cornered one, and provided with a roof. At each corner a pole was placed, perpendicularly, and fastened by ropes, held and propped up with stones. In stretching the roof also ropes had to be made fast to the ground. This tent answered our purpose on the whole, and proved serviceable. The supports were, however, weak and unsatisfactory, and constantly requiring alteration and strengthening to enable it to bear up against the storms. This took place in the beginning of the winter. Our further apparatus consisted of necessary woollen coverings (fur we had not yet taken to), provisions for eight days, and of instruments--theodolite, barometer, and thermometer.

We began our journey on the afternoon of the 14th of September, in fine quiet weather, and under a cloudless sky. The night previous, in a temperature of 23° Fahr., a thin ice-crust had formed from our harbour over the whole of Clavering Straits to the old land-ice, the extent of which was two nautical miles from the south-west cape of the island, and therefore four nautical miles from our harbour, through which we had to force our way with much trouble, with the boats laden with the sledges and baggage on to the old ice. After three hours’ work we reached it, and now the sledge journey may be said to have begun. The sledges, which carried about six cwt., were drawn by six men, the Captain, First Lieutenant Payer, Tramnitz, Kranschner, Klentzer, and Ellinger, travelling with comparative ease over the almost snowless ice; but a short distance past the south-west cape of the island, the road became rough and uneven from the half-melted and again frozen snow-drifts, so that it required all our strength to get along. In order not to tire the men too much on the first day, we halted about eight p.m. on a tongue of land running from the Kronenberg of Sabine Island, and raised our tent. Not being yet practised in such travelling, and in all the management of our hands, so necessary in raising tents and cooking food, we were an hour and a half before we could roll ourselves in our blankets and go to rest. The narrow and cramped position in which we lay in the small tent (nine feet long and six feet broad) on the hard frozen ground, prevented us from enjoying a good night’s rest, although we were quite warm enough; and we had plenty of time in which to consider how far superior a soft bed was. Although bears were numerous round about us, and we met some almost every day, we had not as yet set any watch during the night, and had only taken a loaded gun and revolver into the tent with us as a precaution. The time for rest on a sledge-journey, if one wishes to press forward, is necessarily of the shortest, and setting watch would, from the unavoidable loss of rest, be very prejudicial, or cause us to lose many hours of very precious time. One must also consider the wary nature of bears, and that they would always have to destroy the tent before getting at us. But, indeed, in all our sledge-journeys during sleeping time we were spared the visits of such combative companions. Either the bears preferred making no further acquaintance with us, or they came at a time when we could best greet them with a shot.

The next morning, the 15th, we started at a quarter to six, after a good breakfast, taking a north-westerly direction obliquely across Clavering Straits, in order to reach the mainland; the temperature was 20.5° Fahr., the weather fine, the wind quiet, and we brought the sledge along over the hard snow with comparative ease. We reached Cape Berlin after a six hours’ journey. After a mid-day rest we pulled on through snow deserts of ever-increasing depth towards the mainland. This surrounded a broad bay stretching to the south, and was intersected by a Fjord of, as yet, undecided extent to the west of our road. The exploration of this Fjord was our aim.

We thought from the imposing walls of gneiss at its point of debouche (Cape Hamburg) that we should be able to reach it in a few hours, far under-rating the actual distance, which is often the case in Arctic regions. In the bright clear air, the land looked so near that we fancied we could see every crack in the rocks, and even every stone, distinctly enough to grasp it with the hand; but the further we walked, the further the land seemed to recede, and as the journey in the not quite frozen snow was trying enough without this, there was a great amount of ill-humour over the constant disappointment. But everything has an end, and at last it was real land, and a real mountain-chain which lay before us. In Arctic regions one is so subject to illusions, that you cannot swear to having land before you, until your feet are actually upon it. This happened with us in the evening at dusk, and we pitched our tent on a smooth spot. This second night’s rest was better than the first, and after such a trying day’s work we slept the sleep of the just.

On the 16th of September, as we were at breakfast, a white fox rushed almost into the midst of us, wishing to share it, but he paid for his boldness with his life.

We also saw a bear in the distance; he did not venture near, however, but shuffled, first, comfortably along to our encampment, which we had long since left. A saucepan cover, which we afterwards missed, served him as a ball; and as Bruin found nothing to eat, he followed on our track, and, as he drew nearer, had to pay for his murderous intentions by a well-aimed shot from Mr. Tramnitz. We took one of his hams with us as an addition to our stock of provisions; the beautiful skin, and the remainder of the flesh we left for the ravens and the foxes. At the mouth of the Fjord, where Cape Hamburg bends round to the west, we halted for our mid-day meal, as well as for the purpose of making some necessary measurements.

In the meantime we had discovered, to our great surprise, that the Fligely Fjord was covered with an uninterrupted coating of ice. Sorry we were that we had brought no skates, by which our journey would have been much hastened. We pushed ourselves along the ice with the alpenstocks; the sledge followed easily, almost by the influence of the wind. The ice in the Fjord[49], evidently only formed in September, was at first from three to four inches thick, then three-quarters of an inch, so that our steps were accompanied by an uninterrupted cracking. Large cracks formed, and we kept near the land, so that in case of falling in we might find a bottom.

With one thrust of the iron point of the alpenstock, we broke the icy covering, and drank eagerly of the up-springing water. This, being immediately under the ice, was but little salt, and quite drinkable.

The shore of the Fjord was surrounded by beautiful mountain-chains--to the north gneiss--and granite cliffs, at the foot of which were slopes covered with soft grassy vegetation; to the south rose ice-crowned rocks, the highest of which (we will call it Domberg) was certainly more than 3900 feet high. Reindeer came from all sides of the strand in a state of wonder; but this time we withstood the desire to hunt, in order to lose no time. Only once was the journey interrupted by a slight topographical incident. A bear which came near us, we frightened away by shouting, after which, Klentzer fell through the ice; he was pulled out, and had to cross a long broad breach. The ice had now become so thin that it began to break dangerously; we might, therefore, think ourselves fortunate, when in the darkness, after a seven hours’ march of eighteen (English) miles, and after crossing a small field of snow, we arrived safely at the west side of the Fjord, which bent sharply to the north. It suddenly struck us that the sound in which we had landed was connected with the Ardencaple Inlet; we therefore altered our original plan of ascending the Domberg, and followed the Fjord northwards in order to climb one of those overlooking summits from which we might expect to solve this question. On the morning of the 17th of September, therefore (28° Fahr.), the sledge was left in the care of Tramnitz (who this day killed a reindeer), Kranschner, and Klentzer, whilst Captain Koldewey, Ellinger, and Payer hurried along for two hours in a northerly direction over the smooth ice, carefully jumping over the fragments broken by the tide, till at length they stood on the land at the foot of the mountain they wished to climb.

Everywhere we were met by chilly glacier-streams, buried deep in a sedimentary crystalline formation. Our way led off over a precipitous declivity. Above a lovely valley containing a lake, we went, step by step, over large boulders; then over a small ice-field to the summit, which had taken us six hours and a half to reach. Nowhere was the boundary of vegetable life so marked as in our own Alps, which may arise from the fact that, owing to the length of the Arctic day, elevation above the sea less sensibly affects vegetation than with us.

The view from the top was beyond description beautiful. It stretched over Hochstetter’s Foreland and Shannon, as far as Pendulum Island. We were at once convinced of the impregnable solidity of the pack-ice, as well as that the Fligely Fjord (as we had conjectured) did really open into Ardencaple Bay. Only to the west the horizon was entirely closed by massive peaks about twenty miles off.

Several readings of the quicksilver barometer gave the height of our mountain as a little over 4050 feet. After three hours’ measuring, Payer had finished with the panorama, by which time the temperature of 31.8° Fahr. was most unpleasant.

In the meantime Captain Koldewey had gone back in a westerly direction on an excursion to the shoulders of a mountain, upon which he thus remarks in his day-book:--The mountain was nearly the highest in the neighbourhood, and as the weather was particularly fine and clear, we had a fine wide prospect. I went some nautical miles further westward along the ridge, in order to gain a better glimpse of the interior. Towards the south-west, the mountain fell precipitously in a deep ravine; beyond this the land was undulatory, and the outer horizon seemed bounded by a mountain chain running north and south. Towards the north was a long valley stretching east and west, and also to the south lay a deep basin with rugged sides. This basin was particularly free from snow, only the highest peaks being partly covered. Large glaciers were nowhere to be seen. Towards the east only, over Shannon, and Hochstetter’s Foreland, were some connected tracts of ice, but no trace of open water. Besides this, the ice-fields to the north-east of Shannon were not yet in motion, and the faint hope of advancing further north with the ship in the spring (which until now Captain Koldewey had nourished), disappeared at this sight. Wintering on Sabine Island had now become a certainty, and we retraced our way over ice and naked rocks. In vain did we try, in the now increasing darkness, to find a weapon which we had left behind, and just as fruitless was the search for a draught in the chilly glacier streams with which to quench our burning thirst. As we could no longer feel our way over the smooth ice along the strand, we ran quickly on. It was a glorious night; a perfect calm and a cloudless sky. A whitish northern light, which we saw to the south of us, together with the lights of the stars, shed a feeble glimmer over the icy landscape round us, and the ice-crowned tops of the surrounding mountains were distinctly to be seen. Nowhere does Nature show herself with greater power and expression than in the Arctic regions; and on such a September night as this it was truly majestic.

About midnight we reached the tent. The men were already wrapped in their blankets, and the fire made of drift-wood and reindeer fat was nearly out. It was again brought to a flame, and soon we had a basin of strong reindeer soup, and some delicious steaks before us, which did us good. With a pipe we enjoyed the beauty of the night a little time longer, then wrapped ourselves in our blankets for a good sleep.

On the 18th of September (20° Fahr.) a grey foggy curtain hung over Fligely Fjord. Tramnitz and Ellinger went to look for the missing weapon; others collected drift-wood on the shore, whilst Payer completed the materials for the chart, and the geological collection.

At four p.m. we started on our return to the ship, as unfortunately our provisions forbade a longer stay. Further investigation of so important a discovery as Ardencaple Inlet, and that of the Fjord opening into it, could have been easily carried on under any other circumstances.

The already-mentioned broad fissure in the road over the Fjord, brought us this time into an unpleasant position, for Klentzer broke through with the sledge. He succeeded in working himself up on to a stronger piece of ice; but as the water soaked through the baggage, the sledge sunk deeper and deeper. As it was impossible to pull it out on to the thin ice without unloading, we cut the ropes and brought the goods, one by one, on to the ice, and lastly the sledge also. Both of the barometers fell victims to this mishap, and from the theodolite-case the water spurted as if it had been touched by Moses’ wand.

We were now forced to encamp at once on the shore, in order to dry our blankets, &c., by a fire of Andromeda.[50] That this was not quite a success may be believed, at a temperature of 18° Fahr.

The saturated and frozen tent we could with difficulty raise at all; the folds were like lead. We suffered not a little from the cold that night; the weather at the same time becoming damp and inclement. The sky was cloudy, and in the afternoon there was a fall of snow, though without the customary accompaniment of wind. Meteorological observations on board indicated at the same time a storm from the north, which broke over Sabine Island and its neighbourhood on the afternoon of the 18th and the night of the 19th. The interior of the Fjord is evidently not so exposed to the devastation of the northern storms, which sweep the outer coast for nine months in the year, as it is to the deep loose snow which in the spring effectually prevents any advance into it. Nearly everywhere on the outer coast the snow was hard and firm.

On the morning of the 19th a herd of musk-oxen approached to within about sixty paces of us, while some reindeer came very near us. We left them unharmed however, as we still had a store of that killed two days before. As we were starting on our way (14° Fahr.), Payer noticed a stone of strikingly light colour, which, on the south side of Kuhn Island, formed solid overhanging crystals, to at least 2000 feet high. He therefore left the sledge, and to his great astonishment stumbled upon an enormous layer of coal, alternating with sandstone; this was most likely Lias coal, from three-quarters to eighteen inches thick. The fact that Payer was not armed, and that therefore--as he was heavily laden with coal and other minerals--he must be careful in this neighbourhood so overrun with bears, and had better return to the sledge, prevented any further investigation for the moment, of this interesting geological discovery.

In the afternoon we reached Cape Hamburg (eight miles and a half). The following morning (20th September, 5° Fahr.) Payer, Tramnitz, and Ellinger, took the three hours’ walk back to the coal strata, to find, if possible, any petrifactions and imbedded substances. Their trouble was richly rewarded.

The discovery of a coal layer is, for the future investigation of Greenland, of the greatest importance, as, of all the necessaries of life, want of fuel is that which would most prevent any long stay inland.

Another interesting discovery was the trace of former glaciers. There were smooth rocks, 170 feet above the sea, and that in a valley perfectly free from ice,--central and lateral moraines, with the sharp, characteristic, longitudinal ridge,--and the mounds of débris and peculiar stone-dust. Unfortunately, in sledge journeys, hunger is a permanent discomfort; and although we ate plentifully and often of the reindeer, we were never thoroughly satisfied, in consequence of the difficulty of respiration.

On the 21st of September we pulled, in 18° Fahr. and through violently drifting snow, over the snowy desert to Cape Berlin. After a short mid-day rest, and three more hours of travelling, we neared the northern entrance of Falsche Bay, where we passed the night.

On the following day (21st September) we went on foot over the young ice, to our winter quarters on board ship, having travelled 133½ miles in all.