Chapter XIII: Sledge Journeys in Spring. April–july, 1870.86

Excursion to Klein Pendulum.--Sledge tour to the
Hühnerberg.--Ascent of the icebergs.--Return to the ship in a
storm.--Second expedition to Hühnerberg and Kronenberg.--Superb
illumination of the felspar rocks of the Hasenberg.--Return to
Klein Pendulum.--Picturesque region of Kefersteinberg.--Starting
for the Geodetical Expedition on the 14th of May.--Iversen
snow-blind.--Spectacles.--Provision depôt erected.--Copeland
and Sengstacke depart for Hochstetter’s Foreland.--Discovery
of lignite.--A musk-ox calf caught.--First ascent of
the Muschelberg.--Third ascent of Cape Bremen.--Sudden
thaw.--Starting for Hochstetter’s Foreland.--Impossibility
of advancing the sledges.--Toilsome progress.--The
Muschelberg.--Sledges left behind.--Cape Hamburg.--The Fligely
Fjord.--Deficiency of provisions.--Passage over Clavering’s
Straits.--Arrival on board on 17th of July.--Magnetical and
astronomical observations.

In the beginning of April, the state of Dr. Börgen’s health was such that he was compelled to take great care of himself, and in all geodetical work had to content himself with being adviser only. It was therefore decided that on the 4th Dr. Copeland should make an excursion to Klein Pendulum, to choose some sites and to signal from thence, whether the Hühnerberg, as well as the intended stations on Kuhn Island and Tellplatte were visible, and therefore could be easily connected with the others on Sabine Island. On this occasion we used a small sledge made for the purpose by the carpenter and the smith. The ice was very thin, and we had to pick our way carefully along the “Ice-foot.” After passing the south-east point of the island we saw a walrus sleeping on the ice, which Copeland and Iversen killed. Upon skinning the creature fifteen minutes after its death, the warmth of the blood in the jugular vein was ninety-eight; we may therefore conclude that this is its true warmth, as in that short time it could not possibly have fallen to any extent. In the straits between the two islands we came upon the old ice, and started direct across to Klein Pendulum, where at half-past seven we raised our tent at the foot of the Stufenberg. The next morning was stormy, and we could not leave the tent until evening, when Dr. Copeland set out to find the station where, the summer before, we had taken our observations. We then built a small cairn about fourteen yards to the south-west of it, and as the spot is easy of access and may be visited by future travellers, the following particulars may be useful. The cairn stands near a group of Esquimaux winter huts, its top being 32 feet 9 inches above the mean height of the water. The latitude and longitude, according to observations made last autumn, is 74° 37′ 37″ North, and 1° 13′ 57″, or 18° 29′ 2″ West from Greenwich.

The next day was rather fine; we climbed the Stufenberg, and added seven feet to the height of the cairn built by Lieutenant Payer the year before. Through a telescope of 18-lines aperture, we could distinguish the small cairn built by Drs. Börgen and Copeland the August before on the Hühnerberg.

The following day, the 7th, the weather was anything but satisfactory; but we climbed the north-westerly height of the island, which, according to our chart, had been chosen as a station. This height we called Church Point, as the rocky masses reminded us of a church, and here we built a cairn; though, owing to the fog, we were unable to decide whether the spot would ever be useful as a station.

Friday, 8th of April, the weather had become worse, and we were doubtful what to do; but at last decided that after signalling another point from Klein Pendulum, we should either climb the Tafelberg north of Hansa Bay, or any other height, then round by Sabine Island to the Kronenberg, in order to supply this with a cairn. But upon reaching the coast of Sabine Island, north of Hansa Bay, the weather had become so bad that we determined to return on board; and as the young ice was now safe, we reached the ship shortly after three p.m., although our sledge was heavily laden with the skin of the walrus.

On Monday, the 11th, Dr. Copeland accompanied by Dr. Pansch, Iversen, and Warkmeister, started once more, this time for the mainland, to signal from the Hühnerberg and then to go on to the Kronenberg. By the time we reached the foot of the Hühnerberg it was too late to climb it, so we visited a glacier lying in one of those peculiar cauldron-shaped valleys in which the Pendulum Islands abound. The water which runs from this glacier in the summer finds its way by subterranean channels into the sea.

The surface seemed free from cracks; but an ever-recurring cracking noise told us that even at this season of the year it was not motionless. The lower part stood so far behind the upper, that we were bound to conclude that the upper strata moved forwards quicker than the under. It seemed as if very recently many large ice-blocks had fallen, and others hung in such dangerous positions that we dared not venture nearer, even to get some loose stones scattered among the ice. The aneroid barometer gave the height of the lower edge of the glacier at 370 feet above the level of the sea. Pansch sketched while Copeland took observations. The whole of that night the thermometer stood at 22° below zero, but we were so heavily covered with woollen clothing that we did not suffer.

The next day we had a fresh breeze from the north, with fog. But we needed a clear prospect, in order to decide upon the desirability of the stations chosen; as we often had to give them up, when from any change in the refraction the distant station could not be seen. At about half-past one we reached the summit; to the north and west was still a clear view, and we recognized all that we had observed the year before relating to the extent of land and the formation of the mountains. Clavering Island, with its jagged points and rounded tops, seemed quite near. But there were signs of an approaching storm, and though from our stand-point we were at least eight nautical miles from open water, and eighteen from the drifting ice, we could still hear the cracking and pressing of the icy masses on the high seas.

The 13th and part of the 14th we were compelled to keep in the tent, with nothing to read and nothing to do. The thought that our ship lay within seven nautical miles of us, and that the next day was Good Friday, raised our impatience to such a pitch that we finally determined in spite of the drifting snow to make an attempt to reach it. The chart was consulted, our course decided upon, and the tent poles were drawn. The deeper we got into the straits, and the less the wind was influenced by the mountain slopes, the more we had to depend upon the compass; but at last we trusted entirely to the wind, always keeping the same side of the body against it, as from our long experience we knew that during the whole of a storm the wind never changed its direction.

Our way now lay along the south coast of Sabine Island; but wishing to avoid the deep snow and the smooth ice which alternated close to the shore, we kept farther out, thereby making a great mistake, for we were walking in a south-easterly direction straight to the open water. A look at the compass, however, soon set us right, and about eight p.m. we were once more on board.

Good Friday, the 15th, the weather was better. Copeland employed it, as he was on Sabine Island, in choosing another spot on the Germaniaberg instead of that called No. 4, and also in simplifying the triangle.

The 16th and 17th were unfavourable. The 18th was a glorious day. Dr. Copeland, accompanied by Mr. Sengstacke, Iversen, and Warkmeister, returned to the tent left on the Hühnerberg. It was completely snowed up, and took nearly the whole afternoon to dig out. At three the next morning we climbed the mountain and built a cairn. It was wonderfully fine, at -4° Fahr.

The cairn built on Church Point station on the 7th was just visible, but the direction went so straight over the slope of the Kefersteinberg that we feared we should have some difficulty in seeing it.

By four p.m. we were again in the tent, and then started for the Kronenberg, part of our way lying along one of those long islands of which there are so many in Clavering Straits, and between Sabine and Pendulum Islands. Here, as there, they were composed of huge rocky masses of vertical plates of basalt, from nine to twelve feet in length. At half-past eight p.m. we raised our tent at the foot of the Kronenberg, where to our great joy we could see the newly-built cairn on the Hühnerberg with the naked eye.

The next day we climbed the mountain, and were astonished to find yellow sandstone, while the whole crown consisted of beautiful vertical plates of basalt. The sandstone covers the whole of the upper part, and contained the remains of some carbonized plants. Upon this march Dr. Copeland’s eyes were severely tried by snow-blindness, as also the boatswain’s. On our return journey we enjoyed a beautiful sight. The sun was already low on the north-west horizon, so that the whole of the straits and the mountains of the mainland were in deep shadow. Only the steep cliffs of the Hasenberg shone in a purple glow, contrasting strangely with the azure blue of the sky and the fixed deadly whiteness of the snow. The colouring was sometimes so intense that one might fancy the basalt rocks were in a red glow of fire.

We reached the ship at midnight, though still in broad daylight. From this time until the middle of August lasted the long Arctic day of 100 days.

Dr. Copeland suffered from snow-blindness for some time; but the weather was nearly always stormy and foggy, so that but little could be done in the open air. This enforced rest we employed in carefully considering our triangle. We then decided to give up the stations on Church Point and Stufenberg, and take instead but one station on the highest point of Klein Pendulum, and for those on Sabine Island take only the Kefersteinberg. This was a great simplifying of the area, and we thereby obtained a larger basis for the northern triangulation. Our plan was now decided upon and the measurement of the base was to be commenced at once. Sengstacke, Mersen and Copeland left the ship on Sunday the 24th of April at four a.m., without either tent or sledge, going through the valleys to the south-east of the island, and at forty-five minutes past eight reached the coast of Klein Pendulum at the entrance of a large valley.

Here grew much moss, and flocks of ptarmigan were chirping as gaily as if they were enjoying the summer already, although the thermometer stood only at 32° F.

All signals except that on the Hühnerberg were distinctly visible. A couple of hares which we killed here increased the weight of our knapsacks, but also gave us some fresh meat, which was very acceptable. Reaching the coast once more, we halted a short time to heat some frozen soup. In a temperature of -4°, with a sharp north wind blowing, hungry and spent as we were, we could scarcely keep ourselves warm until the snow was melted.

The cairn which we built there could be seen at a distance of nearly forty English miles.

In the mean time Dr. Börgen had recovered and could now take his share in the work. The next thing to be done before the beginning of the great sledge journey was the measuring of the base. We had already made an attempt at this, in the beginning of March, but were obliged to give it up. Measuring-stakes and tripods had been buried on the spot, and from time to time we had seen that all was right. When on the 25th we thought to take them up without any trouble, we found that the tripods which we had buried in two boxes heavily weighted with stones, were scattered around and that the stakes were not to be found. Since Mr. Sengstacke’s last visit on the 20th April a bear had no doubt been there, and a storm might have carried away the stakes. We had now to provide new ones as soon as possible, for which purpose Mr. Sengstacke gave us two oars belonging to the large boat, which were the required length of twelve feet six inches. On the morning of the 27th the sleighing party returned from the north. The remainder of the day was of course given up to them, and the joy of their return; and on the 30th April, the first part of the base of 296 feet was again measured. The temperature at this time was not above 14°, and we feel sure that the lowness of temperature is no hindrance whatever to European base measurement in Arctic regions with the most delicate instruments and the utmost exactness.

On an excursion to the top of the Kefersteinberg we climbed several gently rising valleys, and at last over a yard and a half broad rift, to the left of which is a very beautiful cauldron-shaped valley with steep walls, in which a glacier has its rise. To the right the mountain declines in not very steep slopes on to the flat shore of Hansa Bay. One more gently sloping hill, and we are at the top; to the north, the declivity is so steep that the little stones can scarcely lie upon it without rolling. Turning from here to the plateau, which sinks by degrees to the west, towards the Kronenberg, a most picturesque and interesting amphitheatre is seen, consisting of basaltic columns. Numbers of them lie in fragments, which are ever increased by others falling amongst them with a thundering noise. But many columns, from six to nine feet thick and hundreds of feet high, still withstand the storms and other influences which seek to destroy them. Many stand quite isolated, and being broken in several places, lean overhanging against each other in such a way that they threaten to fall every moment: but it requires other strength than that of the hand of man to hurl such masses from their position. The whole of this valley which surrounds the Kronenberg to the east, resembles the crumbled wall of a crater, and is grandly picturesque.

On the 9th of May, Copeland and Iversen passed four hours on the top of this mountain (2252 feet high), which is not only the highest point of the island but of the whole group.

By the 14th of May our base was completely measured; the sledge was packed, the stakes made even once more, and at ten p.m. we started on another journey. We left the ship accompanied by Capt. Koldewey, who with four men helped us to pull for some miles. It was greatly to be wished that we might be able to carry our triangle as far as Haystack. Three nautical miles from the ship our friends left us. At six a.m. we reached our former resting-place, half-way along the west coast of Klein Pendulum, where we were met by our old friends the ptarmigans; here we slept the whole of the sunny day and began our march in the evening.

Our road lay at first on the smooth undulating fresh-water ice, running along the coast-line, our only fear being that of running ourselves down from the momentum of the sledge. Between Kuhn Island, Shannon and Pendulum Straits the snow lay full of holes, the outer crust being hard; but the sledge slides broke through, and it was soft beneath, so that the tent-poles pierced it easily at least seven feet and a half. At six a.m. on the 16th we were only one nautical mile and a half north of Klein Pendulum, and quite exhausted we put up our tent for a rest; starting again in the evening, we could take only part of our baggage with us, and after marching two nautical miles and a half had to go back for the other part. Upon starting it was so foggy that we had to direct our course by the compass, though a lift showed us the edge of the land ice a few nautical miles from us. This day we marched fifteen nautical miles and found ourselves in 74° 55′ N. Lat., exactly south of Tellplatte. We here discovered by the Dancer-telescope, to our great joy, that all the cairns built were visible, although they were quite from fifteen to twenty nautical miles distant.

The exertions of the last few days had so greatly exhausted our strength that we could not start again until eight a.m. on the 19th.

At noon we trod the coast, and climbed the mountain to choose the spot for our cairn. The ground resembled Cape Philip Broke, which we had visited the year before. Huge blocks of basalt lay around, one resting upon these small stones, as if man’s hand had placed it there for a purpose. On the highest point of the south-easterly part of one of the hills still stood a cairn built the autumn before by Lieut. Payer, and this seemed to be the best spot we could find on the Tellplatte. Traces of the musk-ox were everywhere to be seen, and soon we saw six full-grown animals and two calves. Returning in the evening we found Iversen snow-blind.

The next day, the 20th, so violent a south wind blew, accompanied by fog, that we could do nothing but erect a depôt; about 250 lbs. of provisions and reserve clothing were buried in different places in the rock, and stones rolled against them. The coast here forms a small bay about half a nautical mile broad. Along the strand were numerous tent circles and many other signs, such as bones of the walrus and seal, and heaps of mussel-shells, showing that formerly this had evidently been a favourite summer resort of the Esquimaux.

In the tent we refreshed ourselves with two newly killed hares, cooked by a fire of willow wood and bear’s fat. Towards the evening, as the wind dropped we went to the spot where our cairn was to be built, leaving Iversen, whose eyes were worse, behind in the tent; it was still too windy, however, to do anything with the theodolite, so we built the cairn and ascertained by the barometer the height of the hill; this was 672 feet above the surface of the sea. On our return we passed through a broad valley to the south of our station, whose rich vegetation had attracted a whole herd of musk-oxen, eleven full-grown animals and three calves. It was remarkable how carefully, even in their hurried flight, they looked after the calves, which, although certainly not more than fourteen days old, ran with astonishing speed.

It was morning before we reached the tent; we rested until the evening, and on the 21st of May continued our journey. The weather was quiet but foggy.

We also found to our relief that the sledge went easily with the whole of the baggage. With the exception of an hour in which to make some coffee, we marched until ten a.m. of the next day. This was our longest march, being thirteen nautical miles.

Here we took an observation for magnetic declination, which gave 44° 52′ westerly; and fixed the position of the place as 74° 55.2′ N. Lat. and 19° 9′ Long. west of Greenwich. In the evening it was 14° Fahr., and when we started at midnight 7°, making the snow hard. Until six a.m. this was good, then the influence of the sun began to be felt, and the sledge sank deeper and deeper.

We pitched our tent over against a huge ice-block, and were soon under the bed-clothes, but not for long, for the sun shone so powerfully on the tent that by one p.m. the temperature was 81° Fahr., whilst in the shade the glass stood some degrees below freezing.

We started again at one a.m., and even for the short stretch of a mile and a half we had to divide our baggage, some of which had to be left behind. Whilst Iversen and the boatswain effected this change, we climbed the Ruthner to signal. On the way from the ice-block to the shore we saw traces of a sledge, which we rightly attributed to Lieutenant Payer, who, not being able to penetrate the Fjord, had to return to the ship.

After reading the barometer on the shore we climbed the mountain. In the snow were traces of musk-oxen, reindeer, lemmings, foxes, and hares; a bear, too, was seen in the distance. The upper part of this mountain consists, I believe, of mica-schist, the strata of which falls at an inclination of about 30° to the north-west.

Below is rather a rich vegetation, particularly of _Andromeda tetragona_, whilst above, where the stones lie loose, there is no trace of it. Here the first flies were evidently enjoying the warmth of the stones; the top we found was formed of a steep roof of snow and ice, not very extensive, but enough to make it of no use to us. This was unfortunate, as all the points of our triangle, such as Tellplatte, Pendulum, and Hühnerberg, could be distinctly seen. Besides these were two others erected by Lieutenant Payer, one at Cape Bremen, and one at the “black wall,” to the south of our standing point.

The prospect from Ruthner to westward, if only over the interior of Kuhn Island, is wonderfully beautiful. The wildly rent mountains, with broad ravines and narrow gorges, and the wonderful contrast of the granite sandstone, and basaltic rocks against the blinding white snow, made a never-to-be-forgotten impression. To the north end of the island lay a long, narrow channel, running deep into the land to the west; where to, remained an unsolved question. In Ardencaple Inlet at 75°, and Gael Hamkes Bay in 74°, was ample room for sledging expeditions in the spring and autumn. Our interesting excursion ended at three-quarters past six p.m. At seven on the 25th of May we left Ruthner, which we were unable to use as a station, for Cape Bremen, reaching the shore beneath it by half-past three a.m. It was quite clear and evident to us that our sledge journeys would soon have to be given up for this year, and therefore it would be impossible to carry our measuring as far as Haystack. The furthest we could hope to reach was a spot on Hochstetter’s Promontory, in order to connect it with the Observatory on Sabine Island; this Copeland and Sengstacke were to do, and choose the station from which to signal. Börgen and Iversen were to climb Cape Bremen, to heighten the cairn already built, and there begin the measurement of the angles. We should then visit Tellplatte once more, and leaving all we could behind, hurry on board with the instruments.

We trod Hochstetter’s Promontory at a small tongue of land, behind which stretched a rather large bay; here we found, to our astonishment, some brown coal, some of which we collected for a fire. We soon came upon a family of musk-oxen, which all fled at our approach, except a calf, which we caught. We were, however, a long way from the ship, and its loud and unceasing bellowing put us in some danger, so we were forced to kill it, preserving only the skin and head for the zoological collection.

We mounted the most easterly of two hills forming the greatest projecting point of the peninsula. The whole summit is composed of plates of a dark kind of marble chalk-stone, which answered our purpose beautifully, and after four hours’ hard work we had the pleasure of seeing a cairn two yards and a half high, and a base of at least two yards in diameter. Under its protection we had a short sleep and refreshment of water, blackbread, pemmican, and ham, which tasted excellent. We then continued our journey, and, after an absence of twenty-five hours, reached the tent, where our comrades were sleeping, at half-past seven p.m. on the 27th.

About noon on the following day we climbed the mountain for the third and last time, and were received by such a violent west wind that it was impossible to put up our instruments.

We retraced our steps through the ravine, but what a change! Spring had indeed come with might. Where forty-eight hours before not a drink of water could be had without a fire, and where twenty-four hours before we could hear a low gurgling deep under the snow, were now countless rills of crystal water and a foaming, rushing torrent. But we were indeed astonished upon reaching the shore to find our tent, which we had left on a gravelly hillock, standing on a peninsula in the midst of a broad sea. Yes, the Arctic summer comes overnight! how else would it be possible, in the short space of three months, for the earth to bring forth flowers, and for the fruit to ripen?

At four a.m. on the 4th of June we prepared to carry out our plan of taking the sledge to Hochstetter’s Promontory, but it was a colossal work; at every step both ourselves and the sledge broke through, and some inches of water stood on the ice, so that our boots were soon full. We now determined to leave everything behind except the instruments, and, keeping close to the coast, reach the ship as soon as possible.

On our way we found the first blooming plant, a _Saxifraga oppositifolia_. Copeland and Iversen went hunting, and killed two musk-oxen; upon reaching the top we were just in time to take the sun’s altitude; it then clouded over, and began to snow. Deep in Ardencaple Inlet we discovered a glacier reaching down to the sea, from which, no doubt, proceeded the greater portion of the icebergs with which this Fjord is filled.

In Ardencaple Inlet and north of Kuhn Island so much water had collected on the ice that the mountains were reflected in it; we might therefore make up our minds to wade from thirteen to fourteen hours through water at 32°.

At eleven p.m. we retraced our steps, with the intention of visiting the western hill, which we conjectured to be the beds _in situ_ of the brown coal which lay in such quantities on the shore; this was so good that it lit with a lucifer-match. By noon we had returned to the tent, and after sleeping twenty-four hours began our return march to Cape Bremen, which we reached on the morning of the 10th.

By the telescope we inspected the south coast of Bastian’s Bay, and found it almost impossible for us to get along with the sledge, which we therefore decided upon leaving behind, taking with us on our backs nothing but the instruments, the tent, and a few other things. Three great difficulties we should have to surmount--the passage of Bastian’s Bay, the Fligely Fjord, and Clavering Straits; the whole distance we hoped to do in four marches at the utmost.

After a short sleep we began our march on the 10th of June, at midnight, each with a weight of from 40 lb. to 50 lb. on his back.

We first tried to cross the bay direct, but this we found impossible from the depth of water and snow upon the ice. We therefore went along the coast to the narrowest part, which we crossed in two hours, and at ten p.m. on the 11th of June we began our second day’s journey; but we seemed to have over-estimated our strength, and could scarcely hope to reach the ship by the time we had hoped; we had, therefore, to be careful of our provisions, which had fallen very low. Fortunately for us, we fell in with a herd of fifteen musk-oxen and four calves; they were very shy and restless, which we could account for afterwards, as Lieutenant Payer had already met them and killed two. We fired four shots, and had the satisfaction of bringing down one young bull.

We soon had a bright fire of willow branches, and some Andromeda made us an excellent soup, which, with the liver and heart of the animal, afforded us a refreshing meal. This day we saw a number of sea-gulls, and caught an ermine, already in its summer dress, which we took on board. The exertions of the previous days, our constantly wet feet and boots, were beginning to tell upon us. The feet began to swell, and Sengstacke and the boatswain suffered much. At eleven p.m., on the 12th, we began our third day’s march, and soon reached the summit of the foreland, the height of which we found to be 994 feet. Vegetation was here rather plentiful, the willow, the dwarf birch, and a shrub somewhat resembling the pine, though not belonging to this group. From here we descended quickly to the shore, and came upon a layer of coal clay about twelve yards thick, containing a number of fossils, which were unfortunately lost.

As we descended the slope to the coast, we saw walking along the shore a she-bear, and two cubs, the size of a poodle, playing together, the mother taking no notice of them whatever. No sooner did the young ones perceive the hunter than they galloped towards their mother, who in two strides turned and stood by them, with such rage expressed in all her actions, that we knew we must be careful; finding, however, that they were unhurt, she seemed to think only of bringing them to a place of safety.

It was eleven p.m. on the 13th of June when we prepared ourselves for the most difficult and critical part of our journey, the passage of the Fligely Fjord. We kept on the northern side of the straits, until we came to the narrowest part, according to Payer’s chart, opposite a tongue of land. The water was here from 111 feet to 125 feet deep, covered with a thin coating of ice, which broke at every step.

Fortunately, just at the moment when we were going to leave our instruments behind, we came upon a firm bank of snow, where we rested awhile, and warmed our feet in our hands, and wrung out our stockings, after which we got on better, and, had our provisions been somewhat more plentiful, we should have felt quite comfortable; but they only consisted of biscuit-dust, of which we had two table-spoonfuls at each meal, with some coffee and meat.

At two a.m. on the 15th we started once more. The road was good, but the diminution of our strength was more and more perceptible. Every little while we had to rest. We were now passing through a great valley in which were some considerable streams to ford. Soon we came to a broad, deep river, with a strong current. After several attempts, we at last pitched upon a spot in which, sinking up to the waist, we succeeded in crossing.

It now seemed necessary to leave our things behind. Sengstacke was not well, and we were not much better, and, as we did not wish to get really ill by remaining in our wet things, we thought it better to hurry on to the ship.

At eight p.m. on the 15th all was ready for starting, when a snow-storm set in, and we began to think of murdering some of the Boatswain birds (_Lestris parasitica_) which were flying about us, when Iversen descried a fine reindeer, and a luck shot brought it to the ground.

At eight a.m. on the 16th we started for our last march; the snow in Clavering Straits, at which we had secretly quailed, we found firmer than we expected, so that we soon came to the island, and, after eighteen hours’ march, trod the deck of our good Germania at two a.m. on the 17th of June.

The hearty welcome we received from Captain Koldewey, Dr. Pansch, and Lieutenant Payer greatly enhanced the pleasure of our return. Some days later Sengstacke fetched the instruments which we had left behind.