Chapter 12 Chapter 12 Goodser

Sixty-nine degrees thirty-seven minutes and forty-two seconds north latitude, ninety-eight degrees and forty-one minutes west longitude King William Land, May 24-June 3, 1847 After five days of grueling travel across the ice sheet, Lieutenant Gore's information storage party finally reached the James Ross Monument on the King William Landmass on the night of May 28. As they approached, the island was not seen until the last moment, and they found good news: some of the beaches near the shore had fresh drinkable water.But there's also bad news: Most of these puddles seep from the base of a line of nearly unnotched icebergs, some as tall as a hundred feet or more.Pushed by sea ice onto the shallows and shore, the icebergs looked like a white castle wall stretching as far as the eye could see.It took them all day to climb the obstacle, and they had to leave some blankets, fuel and supplies on the ice at the surface to lighten the load on the sleds.Another troublesome thing is that some of the soup cans and pork cans they opened on the way back were basically broken and had to be thrown away, leaving less than five days' worth of food left on the return journey, if the other cans were not broken.To this it must be added that the place was evidently a sea, and the ice was still seven feet thick.

Worst of all for Goodser, the King William Landmass (King William Island as they came to know it) was the most disappointing place in his life. In the north, Devon Island and Beech Island often have strong winds and are not suitable for survival even under the best conditions. Except for some moss and low plants occasionally, it is almost barren, but it is not the same as the current King William landmass. Compared with the scene, it is considered the Garden of Eden.Beach Island has bare ground, sand and mud, majestic cliffs and beaches, none of which are found in the King William Landmass.

For half an hour after they crossed the ice barrier, Goodser wasn't sure if he was stepping on solid ground.He was ready to celebrate the landing with his companions, as it was the first time they had set foot on dry land in over a year.But after passing the iceberg, the ice in the sea is replaced by messy shore ice.It is almost impossible to tell where the ice on the shore ends and the shore begins.Ice everywhere, dirty snow, more ice, more snow. At last they came to an area that was blown by the wind and there was no snow. Goodser and a few sailors rushed to the gravel field, knelt on all fours on the solid ground, as if giving thanks to God.But the pebbles on the ground were still quite frozen, as hard as boulders in London winter, but ten times colder.The chill penetrated their trousers and the layers of clothing that covered their knees, into their bones, and up through their mittens, to their palms and fingers, as if the frozen hell deep beneath the earth was sending a silent message to them. invite.

It took them another four hours to find the Ross monument.There were supposed to be stone piles six feet high, and they should be easy to find at or near Victory Point, Lieutenant Goer had told them earlier.But on this open headland, the ice piles are often more than six feet high, and the strong wind has long since blown some of the small stones at the top of the stele to the ground.The sky at the end of May is not as dark as the night sky should be. The sky is constantly shimmering, and it is difficult to see the three-dimensional shape of things or judge the distance.The only ones that can be seen better are the bears because they move around.Half a dozen hungry and curious bears had been stalking them all day.Except for the occasional clumsy movement of the bear staggering, everything seemed unreal in the pale light.A serac that appeared to be fifty feet high and half a mile away from them was actually only twenty yards away and only two feet high.What appeared to be only a hundred feet of exposed sand and gravel was a mile from them on a wind-eroded, featureless headland.

But they finally found the stele, and according to Goodser's still-moving watch, it was almost ten o'clock at night.All of them were so tired that their arms were drooping, and they looked like the apes that the sailors said.Everyone was too tired to talk.The sled remained where they had just landed, about half a mile from here. Guo Er took out one of the two copies of the message—he followed Sir John's instructions and planned to store it on the shore further south—and filled in the date and signed his own name on it.Second Officer Charles DeVos also signed.They rolled the paper and packed it in one of the two airtight copper jars they had brought.After throwing the copper pot into the empty stele, they replaced the stone that had been removed earlier.

"Well." Guo Er said, "That's it, right!" They were walking back to the sleigh, preparing for midnight supper, when a blizzard of lightning came. To lighten their load as they climbed over the iceberg, they piled thick wolf-skin blankets, tarpaulins for the floor, and most of the cans on the ice.They thought that since the food was packed in sealed and welded cans, the white bear who kept sniffing here and there would not be interested, and even if he was interested, he would not be able to eat the contents of the can.Their plan was to take only two days' reduced food rations when they advanced over land, and all to sleep in Dutch tents.If they saw and shot prey on the road, they could also use it as a tooth offering. However, when they saw the desolation of this place, they automatically dismissed this idea.

DeVos directed them to prepare dinner.He pulls the patented stove set out of a series of wicker baskets that are neatly designed and tiered.However, three of the four cans they intended to have for their first dinner after landing were broken.So they were left with bacon that was halved from Wednesday's ration—always a favorite of the crew because it had a lot of fat, but after a hard day's work it wasn't enough to satisfy the hunger pangs, and the last jar didn't go bad The canned food in the house is marked as "Extra Clear Turtle Soup", which no one likes to eat.As a rule of thumb, it is neither super nor clear, and probably has nothing to do with turtles at all.

For the past year and a half, since Torrunton's death at Beach Island, Dr. Macdonald of the Terror has been very concerned with the ship's provisions.With the assistance of several ship's doctors, he was constantly busy experimenting to find out what proportion of food intake would best prevent scurvy.Goodser heard from the older doctor that the food contractor for the expedition was from Houndsditch, Stephen Gardner, who had won the contract with a very low bid.What is certain is that both Her Majesty's Government and Her Majesty's Royal Naval Exploration Headquarters were deceived by him with unprepared and possibly poisonous food.

Hearing that there was rotten food in the can, the dirty words of several crew members rose and fell in the cold air. "Calm down, lads," said Lieutenant Gore, after he had endured a minute or two of swearing by the sailors in the most vulgar and obscene terms. "Here's my advice: Let's open tomorrow's can now and eat until we're satisfied, and then figure out how to get back on the ice before tomorrow's dinner, even if that means we'll still have to eat it tomorrow." Have something to eat until midnight?" Everyone cheered in agreement. Of the next four cans they opened, two survived, one of which was a strange, meatless "Irish stew" that people usually swallow with reluctance, and the other was listening to meat. "Beef Cheek and Vegetables" looks delicious.They figured the beef would come from a tannery and the vegetables from some dilapidated root cellar.But it's better than nothing.

No sooner had they pitched their tents, spread out their sleeping bags to use as mattresses in the tent, warmed their food over alcohol stoves, and passed warm metal dishes to everyone's hands when the lightning began to strike. The first bolt of lightning hit less than fifty feet away, spilling ox cheeks, vegetables, and stew from everyone's hands.The landing point of the second lightning came closer. They rushed to the tent.Lightning flashed down from the sky and struck all around them like cannonballs attacking.Until they piled up in a pile in the tent, eight of them crammed into a tent originally designed to hold four and a little light gear.Sailor Bobby Ferrell looked at the wooden pillars covered with iron bars that supported the tent and cursed: "Oh, fuck it." Then he rushed to find the exit.

Hailstones the size of cricket balls were falling from the sky, sending shards of ice thirty feet into the air.The midnight arctic twilight was spoiled by a burst of lightning.The lightning bolts were not far apart and overlapped each other, and the flashes drew flames in the sky, temporarily blinding their retinas due to the residual light and shadow. "No, no!" Guo Er yelled, his voice overpowering the thunder.He pulled Ferrell back from the tent exit and pushed him down in the crowded tent. "We're the tallest thing anywhere on this island. You can throw the metal-clad tent poles as far away as you can, of course, but stay under the canvas. Into your sleeping bag , and lie flat." They scrambled to do the same.Beneath Wells wigs or hat brims, and above warm wraps wrapped in many loops, their long hair twisted like snakes.The blizzard became more and more violent, and the sounds were deafening.The hail that hit their backs through the canvas and blankets was like a big fist that beat them black and blue.Goodser moaned loudly as he was beaten by the hail.However, the element of fear is still greater than the pain. This continuous beating is already the most painful one he has been beaten since middle school. "Damn Holy Jesus!" cried Thomas Hartney, as the hail and lightning intensified.Anyone with a semblance of intelligence ducked under Hudson's Bay blankets instead of lying on them, and tried to use the blankets to cushion the force of the hail.The canvas of the tent smothered almost everyone, and the thin canvas beneath them did nothing to stop the cold from flowing up to them, and took all their breath away. "How can there be a lightning blizzard when it's so cold?" Goodser yelled at Goer, who happened to be lying next to each other in the terrified nest. "It happens every now and then," the lieutenant called back. "If we decide to leave the ship and camp on land, we'll have to bring a bunch of nasty lightning rods with us." This was the first time Goodser had heard the idea of ​​abandoning ship. At dinner, they had gathered around a boulder not ten feet from the tent, when the lightning happened to strike the rock, and bounced over their canvas-covered heads, striking another A boulder was within three feet of them.Then everyone lowered their heads lower and tried to grab hold of the canvas below so they could get under the rocks. "My God, Lieutenant Gower," yelled John Morfin, his head closest to the collapsed tent opening, "it's so bad that there's something moving outside." Guo Er yelled: "A bear? Still walking around at this time?" "Too big to be a bear, Lieutenant," Morfin yelled back, "That's..." Then the lightning struck the boulder again, and exploded beside them, causing the tent canvas to vibrate with static electricity. Leaping up in the air, everyone cringed and pressed their bodies flatter, with their faces pressed against the cold canvas on the ground, all focused on praying and unwilling to speak any more. The attack lasted for an hour.Gudeser could only think of it as an attack, as if the Greek gods were furious that they had wintered in Borei's domain without permission.After the last thunderclap, the flash became intermittent and then faded to the southeast. Guo Er was the first to come out of the tent, but even the lieutenant, who was fearless in Gu Deser's mind, stopped for a full minute before standing up after the bombardment stopped.Others crawled out on their knees, too, and stopped to look around, as if their limbs were still paralyzed or begging for mercy.The eastern sky is a lattice pattern formed by air-to-air or air-to-ground electrical discharges.Thunder rumbled across the flat island, shaking hard enough to put actual pressure on the skin and keep them busy covering their ears, but the hail had stopped.The small white balls hit the ground two feet high as far as the eye could see.A minute later, Guo Er got up and began to look around.Others also stood stiffly, moving slowly, trying to move their limbs, and Goodser guessed that their hands and feet were also bruised, because he saw his pain as a symbol of their collective punishment from heaven.The midnight twilight was blocked by a thick cloud cover in the south, and it seemed that the real darkness had arrived. "Come and see this," Charles Best was calling. Goodser and the others gathered around the sledge.Before dinner was interrupted, canned food and other items had been unpacked and piled near the cooking area.The lightning seemed deliberately to strike the low pyramid of cans and avoid the sledge.Gardner's canned goods were all scattered by the lightning, as if hit by a cannonball-a game of nine pins all at once.Scorched metal, as well as steaming low-quality vegetables and rotten meat, were scattered within a radius of twenty yards.Near the ship's doctor's left foot, there is a charred, twisted, and blackened container, the words "Kitchen Utensils (I)" still clearly visible on the side.It was one of their traveling meal kits, and it happened to be on the alcohol burner to warm things up while they were scrambling to find shelter.The metal canister next to it containing a pint of pyroligne fuel exploded, sending splinters flying in every direction, apparently flying over their heads as they huddled together in their tent.If lightning had ignited the fuel canisters in the wooden box—the two shotguns and ammunition on the sled were just a few feet away from them—they would all have been burned. Goodser had the urge to laugh, but he was afraid that he would cry at the same time.For a while, no one spoke. John Morfin crawled near the tent, on a low ridge of ice freshly battered by hail.He yelled, "Lieutenant, come and see this." Everyone climbed up to see what he was looking at. Just behind the low ice ridge, there are some almost impossible tracks.The footprints began to appear near the chaotic ice piles in the south, and disappeared all the way to the sea in the northwest.These are impossible footprints because they are larger than the footprints of all living animals on Earth.In the past five days, they have seen the footprints left by white bears on the snow. Those footprints are sometimes very large, some are as long as twelve inches, but these unclear footprints are half as big as those. It was even as long as a human arm, and the tracks were unmistakably new, since the dents were not in old snow but had been pressed into thick fresh hailstones. Whatever the place of business, it came when the lightning and hail storms were in full swing, as Morfin said. "What's this?" Lieutenant Goer said. "It's impossible. Mr. DeVos, please get me a shotgun and ammunition on the sled, thank you." "Yes, sir." Before the second officer brought back the shotgun, Lieutenant Goer was already heading northwest to follow the footprints, and Morfin, Marine Corps Second Soldier Pikindon, Best, Ferrell, and Goodser also followed with difficulty. behind. "Those footprints are too big, sir," said the Marine.Goodser knew the main reason why Pikindon had been chosen for the scouting party, that he was one of the few men on both ships who had ever hunted game larger than a goose. "I know, Second Soldier." Guo Er said.He took the shotgun from second officer DeVos, calmly loaded a round of ammunition, and then the seven men continued to stride on the hail pile, towards the black clouds beyond the coastline protected by icebergs. "Probably not footprints, but some sort of... arctic hare or something that bounces on melted snow and uses its whole body to make the indentations," DeVos said. "Yes." Guo Er said absently, "Maybe so, Charles." However, they are indeed footprints.Dr. Harry Goodser knew it well, and so did everyone who walked beside him.Although Goodser had never hunted anything larger than a rabbit or a partridge, he could tell that it was not a dent made by some small animal repeatedly jumping left and then right with its whole body, but It was the track made by some animal that first walked on all fours and then—if the tracks are to be believed—nearly two feet for nearly a hundred yards.From there the tracks would be like those of a man, if a man's feet were as long as his forearm, with a stride of nearly five feet, and leave claw marks instead of toe marks. They reached the wind-battered gravel where Goodser had knelt on all fours with joy hours before.The hail here smashed into countless small pieces of ice, and the whole area was still bare.The trail stops here. "Let's spread out," Gore said, though his shotgun was still tucked easily under his arm, as if this was Essex and he was walking around his estate.He pointed to each of them with his hand, pointing out places to be investigated.This rocky area is not much larger than a cricket pitching area. There was no sign of leaving the gravel.They moved forward slowly, not wanting the undamaged snow outside the rocky area to be destroyed by their own footprints. They searched back and forth for several minutes, checking over and over again.Then everyone stood still, looking at each other.They stand almost in a circle.There are no traces left of this rocky area. "Lieutenant..." Best said. "Be quiet for another minute." Guo Er said quickly, his tone was mild. "I'm still thinking." He was the only one moving.He strode past everyone, looking at the snow, ice, and hail all around him, as if he was trying to find the little boy who played a prank on them.The blizzard had moved farther east, and the light had grown stronger.It was nearly two o'clock in the morning, and the snow and hail layers on the outside of the stone showed no signs of being touched. "Lieutenant." Best couldn't help but said, "It's Tom Hartney." "What happened to him?" Guo Er cursed.He's starting his third lap. "He's not here. It just occurred to me that he wasn't with us when we came out of the tent." Gu Deser suddenly looked up, and then looked back at the same time as the others.A low ridge of ice three hundred yards or so behind them prevented them from seeing the collapsed tent and sledge.In a whole white and gray space, nothing else moves. They all ran back. Hartney was alive, but he was lying unconscious under the canvas of the tent.The thick canvas was torn by fist-sized hail, which had driven into the tent through the opening. One side of his head was swollen and red, and his left ear was bleeding, but Goodser soon discovered that he still had a weak pulse.They pulled the unconscious man out of the collapsed tent and took two sleeping bags to keep him as warm and comfortable as possible.The black clouds began to drift over their heads again. "How serious is the situation?" Lieutenant Goer asked. Goodser shook his head. "I don't know, we have to wait until he wakes up...if he still wakes up. I'm surprised that more of us didn't get knocked out. There were a lot of hard objects pouring down just now." Guo Er nodded. "His brother John died last year and I really don't want us to lose Tommy after that. Their family will not be able to take the hit." Goodser remembers dressing John Hartney in his brother Thomas' best flannel shirt as he prepared for his funeral.He thought of the shirt buried in the permafrost and the snow-covered gravel hundreds of miles to the north, the cold wind blowing over two wooden tombstones below the black cliffs.Goodse couldn't help shaking. "We're almost freezing," Guo Er said. "We need to catch up on some sleep. Private Pikindon, find some poles that can be used as tent pillars, and then help Best and Ferrell set up the tent again." "Yes, yes, sir." Morfin hoisted the canvas while the two men searched for tent poles.The tent had been battered by the hail so that it looked like a battle banner. "My God," DeVos said. "The sleeping bags are all soaked," Morfin said, "and the inside of the tent is wet." Guoer sighed. Pikindon and Best brought back two charred and bent ironwood poles. "Lightning strike to the pillar, Lieutenant," the Marine reported. "Looks like the iron bone in the wood caught the lightning, sir. It's no longer the center pillar of the tent." Guoer just nodded. "We still have the ax on the sled. Take the handle off, take the extra shotgun, and use the two together as a double stanchion. Melt some of the ice to make a stand if need be." "The alcohol stove has burst." Ferrell reminded, "We can't melt the ice in a short time." "There are still two alcohol stoves on the sled." Guo Er said, "There is also some drinking water in our kettle. It is frozen now, you can put it in your clothes to melt it. Pour the water into the ice and dig it out It's going to freeze in no time. Mister Best?" "Yes, sir?" answered the pudgy young sailor.He tried to hold back a yawn. "Clean the tent as best you can. Cut the seams of the two sleeping bags with a knife so we can huddle together for warmth tonight and use them as a 'quilt' and a 'quilt'. We need some sleep. " Goodser looked at the unconscious Hartney for signs of awakening, but the young man was still a corpse, and he had to check his breathing to make sure he was still alive. "Are we going back early in the morning, sir?" John Morfin asked. "I mean, to get the items stored on the ice and get back to the ship? We haven't got enough food for the return journey. I'm hungry." Guo Er shook his head with a smile. "It won't do anything without food for a few days, man. Now that Hartney's hurt, I'll send you four to put him on the sled and go to the storage. Make the best camp there possible, I'll take another man further south on Sir John's instructions. I've got to put away the second letter for Admiralty. What's more, we're going south as far as we can to see if there's any Signs of unfrozen water. If we don't go, our trip will be in vain." "I volunteer to go with you, Lieutenant Goer," Goodser said, still a little surprised to hear his own voice.For some reason, it was important to him to be with the officer all the time. Guo Er also looked surprised. "Thank you, doctor," he said softly, "but maybe you're with your wounded partner for comparison?" Gudsergen was red. "Best will go with me," said the lieutenant. "Second Officer DeVos will be in charge of the return to the ice until I return." "Yes, sir." The two said in unison. "Best and I are leaving in about three hours. We'll go as far south as we can, with some bacon, message jars, a water jug, some blankets, and a shotgun. We'll turn around about midnight. Come back, and try to meet you on the ice by four o'clock tomorrow morning. On the way back to the ship, the sled load will be lighter than it was before, except, um, Hartney, and we already know that over the ice ridge The sweet spot, so I bet you we'll be back on the ship in three days, not five. "If Best and I have not returned to camp on the ice by midnight the day after tomorrow, Mr. DeVos will take Hartney back to the boat." "Yes, sir." "Piginden, Second Soldier, don't you feel particularly tired?" "Yes, sir," said the thirty-year-old Marine. "I mean no, sir. I can do anything you ask, Lieutenant." Gore smiled. "Very well, you will be the guard for the next three hours. The only thing I can promise you is that you will be the first to go to sleep when the sledge party arrives at the food place later in the day. I hold my musket in my hand, but people stay in the tent, and occasionally stick their heads outside to observe the movement." "No problem, sir." "Where's Dr. Goodser?" The ship's doctor looked up. "Could you and Mr. Morfin please take Mr. Hartney into the tent and make him comfortable? We're going to put Tommy right between us to keep him warm." Goodser nodded.He walked over without removing his patient from the sleeping bag, and lifted him up directly by the patient's shoulders.The lump on the unconscious Hart's head was as big as the doctor's pale fist. "Okay," Guo Er said through chattering teeth, looking at the tattered tent being put up, "others can spread out the blankets now, and we all huddle together like orphans, trying to sleep one or two hour."