Chapter 30 Chapter 30 Road Signs Made of Ice Cubes

This peculiar phenomenon of the polar climate lasted three quarters of an hour: the bears and foxes had ample time to plunder; Strong claws were torn, the patty-boxes were opened and caved in, the biscuit-bags were looted, the tea was scattered on the snow, the staves of the casks of alcohol were lifted and the precious liquid poured out. It was all gone, and the camping equipment was everywhere, and it was so badly ruined that it all showed how ferocious these beasts were, how hungry they were, and how greedy they were. "What a disaster," Bell said, looking at the bleak scene. "Probably incurable," Simpson replied.

"Pick up the rest first," said the doctor again, "and then we'll talk." Without a word, Hatteras had picked up the scattered boxes and bags.They picked up the dried patties and biscuits that were still edible.Losing a portion of alcohol is a nuisance; no alcohol, no hot drinks, no tea, no coffee.Taking stock of the remaining provisions, the doctor found that 200 pounds of dried meatloaf and 150 pounds of biscuits had been lost; had the travelers continued their journey, they would have had only half their rations. They started discussing what to do in this situation.Did they return to the ship and start the expedition again?But how can you be willing to give up the 150 nautical miles you have traveled?What a blow to the spirit of the crew to go back without the vital fuel!Can anyone else be found willing to go on an expedition across the ice and snow?

Clearly, it was better to move on, even in the worst food shortages. The doctor, Hatteras, and Bell agreed to the latter resolution.Simpson was willing to go back; the fatigue of the journey had spoiled his health; he was visibly weak, but seeing that he was alone in this opinion, he again took his place at the front of the sledge, and the little party set off again. southbound road. For the next three days, from January 15th to 17th, the monotony of the journey took place.They moved forward more slowly; the travelers were weary; their legs felt sleepy; the sled dogs trudged on.Insufficient food does not cheer up animals and people.The weather remained highly variable, from bitterly cold to damp and biting fog.

On January 18, the situation at the ice rink suddenly changed.Many pyramid-like hanging rocks grew spiers, increased a lot, and stood tall on the horizon.Here and there a line of snow appeared on the ground; it seemed to have grown schist, shale, and quartzite, which looked like limestone.The travelers finally set foot on solid land, which is estimated to be the continent called New Cornuai. The doctor could not help stamping the firm ground with one foot; the travelers were not more than a hundred miles from Cape Bilcher; On the ground, fatigue is greatly increased; it is necessary to go deep inland, climb the high cliffs on the coast, and pass through narrow canyons covered with snow thirty or forty feet high.

Travelers immediately began to miss the almost unobstructed, easy-to-walk ice-fields, which were perfect for sledging.Now, pulling hard had to be done; the dogs were too tired and not enough; they had to pull alongside them, exhausting themselves to give them relief.Many times, having to take the whole load down to get over those particularly steep hills, their icy surfaces offer little to hold on to.It takes hours to walk 10 feet like this; on the first day they covered five nautical miles on the land of Gornuai, a place that certainly lives up to its name, as it represents the undulations, steep peaks and strange rocks of the south-west of England rugged.

The next day the sledges came to the high point of the cliff; the travelers, too exhausted to build igloos, passed the night in tents, wrapped in buffalo hides, with their wet socks warmed over their chests.It was understood that this overnight method would have unavoidable consequences; the temperature fell below -42°C that night and the mercury froze. Simpson's health deteriorated worryingly; constant colds, severe rheumatism, and unbearable pain left him lying on the sled, which he could no longer drive.Bell took his place; he was sick too, but his pain would not bring him down.The doctor, too, was affected by the expedition through the dreadful winter; but he never uttered a word of complaint;Impassive, indomitable, impassive, immensely strong, and in his usual iron manner, Hatteras followed silently behind the sledge.

On January 20, the temperature was extremely low, and the slightest movement immediately led to complete exhaustion.The road was rough, and Hatteras and Bell were pulling the cart side by side with the dog; an accidental impact shattered the front of the sled, and it had to be repaired.This happens many times a day, delaying travel. The travelers walked in a deep valley, half of their bodies covered in snow, surrounded by biting cold.They don't speak.Suddenly, Bell, who was walking beside the doctor, looked at him in horror. Then, without saying a word, he picked up a handful of snow and rubbed it vigorously on his companion's face.

"There, Bell!" the doctor struggled. But Bell continued to rub hard. "Well, Bell," said the doctor again, with snow in his mouth, nostrils, and eyes, "are you mad? What's the matter?" "Well," replied Bell, "if you still have a nose, you have to thank me." "Nose!" the doctor asked back, touching his face with his hand. "Yes, Mr. Croubney; you are quite frostbitten; your nose is all white when I look at you; and if I hadn't done my best to save you, you would be without this ornament, and it would be inconvenient to travel, But it's essential to be alive."

In the end, the doctor suffered a bit of frostbite on the nose; the circulation was restored just in time, and thanks to Bell's vigorous rubbing, the danger was saved. "Thank you, Bell," said the doctor, who returned Bell in kind. "I think, Mr. Crawford," replied the carpenter, "that God will save us from more suffering!" "Oh, Bell," said the doctor again, "you mean Simpson! The poor boy is in a lot of pain!" "Are you worried about him?" Hatteras asked excitedly. "Yes, Captain," said the doctor. "What are you worried about?"

"He'll suddenly get scurvy. His legs are swollen, his gums are fighting; and there's the unfortunate man, lying under the covers on the sledge, half frozen, the bumps in the road every hour are adding to his pain. I sympathize with him, Hatteras, but there is nothing I can do to ease his pain!" "Poor Simpson!" murmured Bell. "Maybe we should stop for a day or two," the doctor added. "Stop!" Hatteras yelled. "Eighteen lives depend on our ability to go back!" "But..." said the doctor. "Crowburn, Bell, listen to me," Hatteras went on, "we don't have enough rations left for twenty days! We can't waste a moment!"

The doctor and Bell didn't say a word, the sleigh stopped for a while, and then set off again. At night they halted at the foot of an ice mound, in which Bell immediately dug a hole; the travelers took refuge in it; the doctor spent the night tending to Simpson; Offensive, a constant whine from his swollen lips in pain. "Ah! Mr. Crawburn!" "Be brave, my boy!" said the doctor. "I can't go back! I know! I can't! I'd rather die!" Hearing these desperate words, the doctor continued to attend to him; and though he himself was exhausted by the day, he used the hours of the night to concoct some sedative for the patient; but the lemon juice had no effect, and the rubbing did not Prevent scurvy from spreading to the whole body little by little. Next day the unfortunate man had to be put on the sledge, though he begged to be left alone, and left him to die in peace; Ice fog chilled the three men to the bone; snow and hail beat in their faces, and they were doing livestock work without adequate food. Like its master, Duck goes back and forth, regardless of fatigue, always vigilant, and finds the best way to go by intuition; everyone trusts its extraordinary intelligence. On the morning of January 23rd, it was almost dark, because it was a new moon, and Darke walked ahead; for several hours, it was not seen, and Hatteras was very worried, especially because there were many bear tracks on the ground; He didn't quite know what to do when suddenly there was a dog barking. Hatteras picked up the speed of the sled, and soon he joined the faithful beast at the bottom of a ravine. Duck stopped, as if petrified, and yelled at a road sign made of ice-snow concrete and a few pieces of limestone. "This time," said the doctor, taking off the belt, "it's a signpost, and there's no mistaking it." "What use is it to us?" Hatteras replied. "Hatteras, if this is a signpost, it will contain documents useful to us; food may be preserved in it, and it will be worth seeing." "Which European would come here?" Hatteras said with a shrug. "But, even if they were not Europeans," retorted the doctor, "wouldn't the Eskimos have found a hiding place here, and put here their catch of hunting and fishing? This is their habit, at least I think so." "Well! Come on, Crowburny," replied Hatteras, "but I'm afraid your efforts will be wasted." Crawford and Bell picked up the pickaxe and walked towards the signpost, Duck continued to bark.The limestone was firmly sealed with ice; but a few blows broke them apart. "There's clearly something," said the doctor. "I believe so," Bell replied. They quickly turned on signposts.Immediately a hiding place was discovered; a soaked paper was found in it.The doctor grabbed it and his heart was beating.Hatteras ran over, took the document and read: "Altam, 'Perboise', December 13, 1860, longitude 12..., latitude 8...°35'..." "Perboise!" said the doctor. "Perboise!" repeated Hatteras. "I don't know of a ship with that name that frequently visits this area." "Obviously," continued the doctor, "the voyager, perhaps the wreck, has been here less than two months." "It sure is," Bell replied. "What shall we do?" asked the doctor. "Go on," Hatteras replied coldly. "I don't know what happened to the ship 'Perre Boise', but I know that the 'Forward' is waiting for us to go back."