Being unable to go up Peel Sound, he determined to go around Prince of Wales Land, to reach MacClintock Channel. But he knew that Shandon and Wall could not be deceived, and were conscious of the failure of his hopes.

Nothing especial happened on the 6th of June; snow fell, and the prophecy of the halo came true.

For thirty-six hours the Forward followed the sinuosities of the coast of Boothia, without reaching Prince of Wales Land. Hatteras put on all steam, burning his coal extravagantly; he still intended to get further supplies on Beechey Island; on Thursday he arrived at Franklin Sound, and he still found the way northward impassable.

His position was a desperate one; he could not return; the ice pushed him onward, and he saw his path forever closing behind him, as if there were no open sea where he had passed but an hour before.

Hence, not only was the Forward unable to go toward the north, but she could not stop for a moment lest she should be imprisoned, and she fled before the ice like a ship before a storm.

Friday, June 7th,* she arrived near the coast of Boothia, at the entrance of James Ross Sound, which had to be avoided because its only exit is to the west, close to the shore of America.

The observations taken at noon showed them to be in latitude 70° 5' 17", and longitude 96° 46' 45"; when the doctor heard this he examined his chart, and found that they were at the magnetic pole, at the very point where James Ross, the nephew of Sir John, came to determine its situation.

The land was low near the coast, and it rose only about sixty feet at the distance of a mile from the sea.

The boiler of the Forward needed cleaning; the captain anchored his ship to a field of ice, and gave the doctor leave to go ashore with the boatswain. For himself, being indifferent to everything outside of his own plans, he shut himself up in his cabin, and studied the chart of the Pole.

The doctor and his companion easily reached land; the first-named carried a compass for his experiments; he wanted to test the work of James Ross; he easily made out the mound of stones erected by him; he ran towards it; an opening in the cairn let him see a tin box in which James Ross had placed an account of his discovery. No living being had visited this lonely spot for thirty years.

He found a declination of 90 degrees

At this place a needle suspended as delicately as possible assumed a nearly vertical position under the magnetic influence; hence the centre of attraction was near, if not immediately beneath, the needle.

The doctor made the experiment with all care. But if James Ross, owing to the imperfection of his instruments, found a declination of only 89° 50', the real magnetic point is found within a minute of this spot.* Dr. Clawbonny was more fortunate, and at a little distance from there he found a declination of 90°.

"This is exactly the magnetic pole of the earth!" he cried, stamping on the ground.

"Just here?" asked Johnson.

"Precisely here, my friend!"

"Well, then," resumed the boatswain, "we must give up all the stories of a magnetic mountain or large mass."

"Yes, Johnson," answered the doctor, laughing, "those are empty hypotheses! As you see, there is no mountain capable of attracting ships, of drawing their iron from them anchor after anchor, bolt after bolt! and your shoes here are as light as anywhere in the world."

"But how do you explain—"

"There is no explanation, Johnson; we are not wise enough for that. But what is mathematically certain is that the magnetic pole is at this very spot!"

"Ah, Dr. Clawbonny, how glad the captain would be to say as much of the North Pole!"

"He'll say it, Johnson; he'll say it!"

"God grant it!" was the answer.

The doctor and his companion raised a cairn at the spot where they tried their experiment, and the signal for their return being made, they returned to the ship at five o'clock of the evening.





CHAPTER XVII.

THE FATE OF SIR JOHN FRANKLIN.


The Forward succeeded, though not without difficulty, in getting by James Ross Sound, by frequent use of the ice-saws and gunpowder; the crew was very much fatigued. Fortunately the temperature was agreeable, and even thirty degrees above what James Ross found at the same time of year. The thermometer marked 34°.

Saturday they doubled Cape Felix at the northern end of King William's Land, one of the smaller islands of northern seas.

At that time the crew became very much depressed; they gazed wistfully and sadly at its far-stretching shores.

In fact, they were gazing at King William's Land, the scene of one of the saddest tragedies of modern times! Only a few miles to the west the Erebus and Terror were lost.

The sailors of the Forward were familiar with the attempts made to find Franklin, and the result they had obtained, but they did not know all the sad details. Now, while the doctor was following on his chart the course of the ship, many of them, Bell, Bolton, and Simpson, drew near him and began to talk with him. Soon the others followed to satisfy their curiosity; meanwhile the brig was advancing rapidly, and the bays, capes, and promontories of the coast passed before their gaze like a gigantic panorama.

Many of them drew near him

Hatteras was pacing nervously to and fro on the quarter-deck; the doctor found himself on the bridge, surrounded by the men of the crew; he readily understood the interest of the situation, and the impression that would be made by an account given under those circumstances, hence he resumed the talk he had begun with Johnson.

"You know, my friends, how Franklin began: like Cook and Nelson, he was first a cabin-boy; after spending his youth in long sea-voyages, he made up his mind, in 1845, to seek the Northwest Passage; he commanded the Erebus and the Terror, two stanch vessels, which had visited the antarctic seas in 1840, under the command of James Ross. The Erebus, in which Franklin sailed, carried a crew of seventy men, all told, with Fitz-James as captain; Gore and Le Vesconte, lieutenants; Des Voeux, Sargent, and Couch, boatswains; and Stanley, surgeon. The Terror carried sixty-eight men. Crozier was the captain; the lieutenants were Little, Hodgson, and Irving; boatswains, Horesby and Thomas; the surgeon, Peddie. In the names of the bays, capes, straits, promontories, channels, and islands of these latitudes you find memorials of most of these unlucky men, of whom not one has ever again seen his home! In all one hundred and thirty-eight men! We know that the last of Franklin's letters were written from Disco Island, and dated July 12, 1845. He said, 'I hope to set sail to-night for Lancaster Sound.' What followed his departure from Disco Bay? The captains of the whalers, the Prince of Wales and the Enterprise, saw these two ships for the last time in Melville Bay, and nothing more was heard of them. Still we can follow Franklin in his course westward; he went through Lancaster and Barrow Sounds and reached Beechey Island, where he passed the winter of 1845-46."

"But how is this known?" asked Bell, the carpenter.

"By three tombs which the Austin expedition found there in 1850. Three of Franklin's sailors had been buried there; and, moreover, by a paper found by Lieutenant Hobson of the Fox, dated April 25, 1848. We know also that, after leaving winter-quarters, the Erebus and Terror ascended Wellington Channel as far as latitude 77°; but instead of pushing to the north, which they doubtless found impossible, they returned towards the south—"

"And that was a fatal mistake!" uttered a grave voice. "Safety lay to the north."

Every one turned round. It was Hatteras, who, leaning on the rail of the quarter-deck, had just made that solemn remark.

"Without doubt," resumed the doctor, "Franklin intended to make his way to the American shore; but tempests beset him, and September 12, 1846, the two ships were caught in the ice, a few miles from here, to the northwest of Cape Felix; they were carried to the north-northwest of Point Victory; there," said the doctor, pointing out to the sea. "Now," he added, "the ships were not abandoned till April 22, 1848. What happened during these nineteen months? What did these poor men do? Doubtless they explored the surrounding lands, made every effort to escape, for the admiral was an energetic man; and if he did not succeed—"

"It's because his men betrayed him," said Hatteras in a deep voice.

The sailors did not dare to lift their eyes; these words made them feel abashed.

"To be brief, this paper, of which I spoke, tells us, besides, that Sir John Franklin died, worn out by his sufferings, June 11, 1847. All honor to his memory!" said the doctor, removing his hat.

The men did the same in silence.

"What became of these poor men, deprived of their leader, during the next ten months? They remained on board of their ships, and it was not till April, 1848, that they made up their mind to abandon them; one hundred and five men survived out of the hundred and thirty-eight. Thirty-three had died! Then Captains Crozier and Fitz-James erected a cairn at Point Victory, and left their last paper there. See, my friends, we are passing by that point. You can see traces of the cairn, placed, so to speak, at the farthest point reached by John Ross in 1831! There is Cape Jane Franklin! There Point Franklin! There Point Le Vesconte! There Erebus Bay, where the launch, made of pieces of one of the ships, was found on a sledge! There were found silver spoons, plenty of food, chocolate, tea, and religious books. The hundred and five survivors, under the command of Captain Crozier, set out for Great Fish River.