When Hans returned from his visit to the Esquimaux, he brought with him his wife’s father and mother. Hayes gives the following description of them: —
“The personal appearance of this interesting couple was not peculiarly attractive. Their faces were broad, jaws heavy, cheek-bones projecting like other carnivorous animals, foreheads narrow, eyes small and very black, noses flat, lips long and thin, and when opened, there were disclosed two narrow, white, well-preserved rows of polished ivory, – well worn, however, with long use and hard service, for the teeth of the Esquimaux serve a great variety of purposes, such as softening skins, pulling and tightening cords, besides masticating food, which I may here mention is wholly animal. Their hair was jet black, though not abundant, and the man had the largest growth of beard which I have seen upon an Esquimaux face, but it was confined to the upper lip and the tip of the chin. The face of the Esquimaux is indeed quite Mongolian in its type, and is usually beardless. In stature they are short, though well built, and bear, in every movement, evidence of strength and endurance.
“The dress of the male and female differed but little one from the other. It consisted of nine pieces – a pair of boots, stockings, mittens, pantaloons, an under-dress, and a coat. The man wore boots of bear-skin, reaching to the top of the calf, where they met the pantaloons, which were composed of the same materials. The boots of the woman reached nearly to the middle of the thigh, and were made of tanned seal-skins. Her pantaloons, like her husband’s, were of bear-skin. The stockings were of dog-skin, and the mittens of seal-skin. The under-dress was made of bird-skins, feathers turned inwards; and the coat, which did not open in front, but was drawn on over the head like a shirt, was of blue fox-skins. This coat terminates in a hood which envelops the head as completely as an Albanian capote or a monk’s cowl. This hood gives the chief distinction to the dresses of the sexes. In the costume of the man it is round, closely fitting the scalp, while in the woman it is pointed at the top to receive the hair which is gathered up on the crown of the head, and tied into a hard, horn-like tuft with a piece of raw seal-hide, – a style of coiffure which, whatever may be its other advantages, cannot be regarded as peculiarly picturesque.
“Their ages could not be determined; for, since the Esquimaux cannot enumerate beyond their ten fingers, it is quite impossible for them to refer to a past event by any process of notation. Having no written language whatever, not even the picture-writing and hieroglyphics of the rudest Indian tribes of North America, the race possesses no records, and such traditions as may come down from generation to generation are not fixed by any means which will furnish even an approximate estimate of their periods of growth, prosperity, and decay, or even of their own ages.”
Towards the end of February three other Esquimaux appeared from the south, and from them Hayes obtained some dogs.
About the middle of March, Hayes made a preliminary journey in order to explore the track for his extended journey to the north, and cached some provisions at Cairn Point. He visited Rensselaer Harbour, where the Advance had been left, but no vestige of the ship remained, except a small bit of a deck-plank which Hayes picked up near the site of the old observatory.
The long sledge-journey began on the 3rd of April 1861. A quantity of provisions had previously been taken to Cairn Point, which Hayes had decided to make the starting-place for crossing the Sound. On one sledge was mounted a 20-foot metallic lifeboat with which Hayes hoped to navigate the Polar Sea. When Cairn Point was reached, Hayes decided to leave the boat there, as he saw that it was impossible to take the boat and cargo across the Sound in one journey. A storm delayed the party several days at Cairn Point, and soon after encountering the ice-hummocks, Hayes wrote: —
“I need hardly say that I soon gave up all thought of trying to get the boat across the Sound. A hundred men could not have accomplished the task. My only purpose now was to get to the coast of Grinnell Land with as large a stock of provisions as possible, and to retain the men as long as they could be of use; but it soon became a question whether the men themselves could carry over their own provisions independent of the surplus which I should require in order that the severe labour should result to advantage. In spite, however, of everything, the men kept steadfastly to their duty, through sunshine and through storm, through cold, and danger, and fatigue.”
Hayes tried to make for Cape Sabine, but found the hummocks quite impassable, and he had to bear more to the northward. On the 25th of April he reported: “My party are in a very sorry condition. One of the men has sprained his back from lifting; another has a sprained ankle; another has gastritis; another a frosted toe; and all are thoroughly overwhelmed with fatigue.”
On the 27th April he determined to send back the men, with the exception of Knorr, Jensen, and McDonald. Only about half of the Sound had been crossed, but Hayes decided to struggle on. Jensen became partially snow-blind, and on the 3rd of May, when stumbling along, his leg received a severe wrench in a crack in the ice. The land, at Cape Hawks, was not reached until the 11th of May. Thirty-one days had been occupied in crossing the Sound. Hayes writes: —
“The journey across the Sound from Cairn Point was unexampled in Arctic travelling. The distance from land to land, as the crow flies, did not exceed 80 miles; and yet, as hitherto observed, the journey consumed thirty-one days – but little more than 2 miles daily. The track, however, which we were forced to choose, was often at least three times that of a straight line; and since almost every mile of that tortuous route was travelled over three and five times, in bringing up the separate portions of our cargo, our actual distance did not probably average less than 16 miles daily, or about 500 miles in all, between Cairn Point and Cape Hawks. The last 40 miles, made with dog-sledges alone, occupied fourteen days – a circumstance which will of itself exhibit the difficult nature of the undertaking, especially when it is borne in mind that 40 miles to an ordinary team of dogs, over usually fair ice, is a trifling matter for five hours, and would not fatigue the team half so much as a single hour’s pulling of the same load over such hummocks as confronted us throughout this entire journey.
“In order to obtain the best results which the Esquimaux dog is capable of yielding, it is essential that he shall be able to trot away with his load. To walk at a dead drag is as distressing to his spirits and energies as the hauling of a dray would be to a blooded horse; and he will much more readily run away with a 100 pounds over good ice than to pull one-fourth of that weight over a track which admits only of a slow pace.”
The failure to get the boat, or even a foot-party, over the Sound disarranged Hayes’ original plans. Of the 800 lb. of dog-food which he had when he sent back the men, only about 300 lb. remained. Small dépôts had, however, been made for the return journey. The most that Hayes now hoped to do was to explore the route to the shores of the Polar Sea, as a basis for further exploration to follow the event of his reaching the west side of Smith Sound with his vessel late in the summer.
The first day’s march from Cape Hawks carried the party across the wide bay to Cape Napoleon, and they were pleased to find that the whole load could be carried at one time, although the travelling was far from good. Deep snow was met, and in wading through it Jensen’s leg gave way, and he had to be carried on the sledge. From Cape Napoleon to Cape Frazer the travelling was good, and camp was made near the farthest point reached by Hayes in 1854. The little flag-staff, which Hayes had planted, was discovered, still standing erect among the rocks; but not a vestige of the flag remained. The winds had whipped it entirely away.
On the 16th of May, Jensen’s injured leg was so painful that Hayes decided to leave him behind in charge of McDonald.
From Cape Frazer northward the description given by Hayes of his route is extremely meagre and vague. He states that when Jensen was left behind he was about 60 miles to the northward and westward of Cape Constitution, reached by Morton. About two days after leaving Jensen, Hayes reached the southern cape of a bay which was so deep that, as in other cases of like obstruction, he determined to cross over it rather than to follow the shore-line. He writes: “We had gone only a few miles when we found our progress suddenly arrested. Our course was made directly for a conspicuous headland bounding the bay to the northward, over a strip of old ice lining the shore. This headland seemed to be about 20 miles from us, or near latitude 82°, and I was very desirous of reaching it; but, unhappily, the old ice came suddenly to an end, and after scrambling over the fringe of hummocks which margined it, we found ourselves upon ice of the late winter. The unerring instinct of the dogs warned us of approaching danger. They were observed for some time to be moving with unusual caution, and finally they scattered to right and left, and refused to proceed farther. This behaviour of the dogs was too familiar to me to leave any doubt as to its meaning; and moving forward in advance, I quickly perceived that the ice was rotten and unsafe. Thinking that this might be merely a local circumstance, resulting from some peculiarity of the current, we doubled back upon the old floe and made another trial farther to the eastward. Walking now in advance of the dogs, they were inspired with greater courage. I had not proceeded far when I found the ice again giving way under the staff with which I sounded its strength, and again we turned back and sought a more eastern passage.
“Two hours consumed in efforts of this kind, during which we had worked about 4 miles out to sea, convinced me that the ice outside the bay was wholly impassable.”
An attempt to cross farther up the bay also proved a failure, and by walking a few miles along the shore Hayes believed he saw the head of the bay about 20 miles distant. Next day he climbed to the top of a cliff supposed to be about 800 feet above the level of the sea.
“The view which I had from this elevation furnished a solution of the cause of my progress being arrested on the previous day.
“The ice was everywhere in the same condition as in the mouth of the bay, across which I had endeavoured to pass. A broad crack, starting from the middle of the bay, stretched over the sea, and uniting with other cracks as it meandered to the eastward, it expanded as the delta of some mighty river discharging into the ocean, and under a water-sky, which hung upon the northern and eastern horizon, it was lost in the open sea.
“Standing against the dark sky at the north, there was seen in dim outline the white sloping summit of a noble headland – the most northern known land upon the globe. I judged it to be in latitude 82° 30′, or 450 miles from the North Pole. Nearer, another bold cape stood forth; and nearer still the headland, for which I had been steering my course the day before, rose majestically from the sea, as if pushing up into the very skies a lofty mountain peak, upon which the winter had dropped its diadem of snows. There was no land visible except the coast upon which I stood.”
The large bay which Hayes here refers to was named Lady Franklin Bay. The place from which his observations were made, Hayes gives as in latitude 81° 35′, longitude 70° 30′ W. Finding his way to the north impassable, he decided to return. Hayes at this point came to the conclusion that he was near the shores of the Polar Basin, and that Kennedy Channel expanded into it. After building a cairn and leaving a record in a small glass vial, he started on his return journey.
A storm came on soon after Hayes and his companion set out. They at first tried to shelter in the lee of a huge ice-cliff, but as they had now given the dogs the last of their food, they decided to face the snowstorm and make for the camp where Jensen had been left. This was reached in twenty-two hours under great difficulties. Hayes and Knorr had fasted thirty-four hours, and were completely exhausted. On the return journey to the ship they had to depend entirely on the small caches which had been left on the outward journey. Fortunately, all of these, with one exception, were undisturbed. By the time they reached Cape Hawks and were about to cross the Sound, Jensen’s leg had so far improved that he was able to walk. Near the Greenland coast the ice was beginning to give way, and it was with difficulty that they reached land. Part of the journey to the ship had then to be made on foot across the mountains.
During the absence of Hayes, McCormick the sailing-master had examined the ship, and found that the damage sustained in the ice was serious. He repaired it as well as he could, but it was not now in a condition to stand any further collision with the ice. This was a great disappointment to Hayes, as he intended, as soon as the ice broke up, to make another attempt with the ship to cross the Sound, and pass up the west coast.
On the 3rd of July, Hayes describes a walrus-hunt: —
“I have had a walrus-hunt and a most exciting day’s sport. Much ice has broken adrift and come down the Sound during the past few days; and, when the sun is out bright and hot, the walrus come up out of the water to sleep and bask in the warmth on the pack. Being upon the hilltop this morning to select a place for building a cairn, my ear caught the hoarse bellowing of numerous walrus; and, upon looking over the sea, I observed that the tide was carrying the pack across the outer limit of the bay, and that it was alive with the beasts, which were filling the air with such uncouth noises. Their number appeared to be even beyond conjecture, for they extended as far as the eye could reach, almost every piece of ice being covered. There must have been, indeed, many hundreds, or even thousands.
“Hurrying from the hill, I called for volunteers, and quickly had a boat’s crew ready for some sport. Putting three rifles, a harpoon, and a line into one of the whale-boats, we dragged it over the ice to the open water, into which it was speedily launched.
“We had about 2 miles to pull before the margin of the pack was reached. On the cake of ice to which we first came, there were perched about two dozen animals; and these we selected for the attack. They covered the raft almost completely, lying huddled together, lounging in the sun or lazily rolling and twisting themselves about, as if to expose some fresh part of their unwieldy bodies to the warmth, – great, ugly, wallowing sea-hogs, they were evidently enjoying themselves, and were without apprehension of approaching danger. We neared them slowly, with muffled oars.
“As the distance between us and the game steadily narrowed, we began to realise that we were likely to meet with rather formidable antagonists. Their aspect was forbidding in the extreme, and our sensations were perhaps not unlike those which the young soldier experiences who hears for the first time the order to charge the enemy. We should all, very possibly, have been quite willing to retreat had we dared own it. Their tough, nearly hairless hides, which are about an inch thick, had a singularly iron-plated look about them, peculiarly suggestive of defence; while their huge tusks, which they brandished with an appearance of strength that their awkwardness did not diminish, looked like very formidable weapons of offence if applied to a boat’s planking or to the human ribs, if one should happen to find himself floundering in the sea among the thick-skinned brutes. To complete the hideousness of a facial expression which the tusks rendered formidable enough in appearance, Nature had endowed them with broad flat noses, which were covered all over with stiff whiskers, looking much like porcupine quills, and extending up to the edge of a pair of gaping nostrils. The use of these whiskers is as obscure as that of the tusks; though it is probable that the latter may be as well weapons of offence and defence as for the more useful purpose of grubbing up from the bottom of the sea the mollusks which constitute their principal food. There were two old bulls in the herd who appeared to be dividing their time between sleeping and jamming their tusks into each other’s faces, although they appeared to treat the matter with perfect indifference, as they did not seem to make any impression on each other’s thick hides. As we approached, these old fellows – neither of which could have been less than 16 feet long, nor smaller in girth than a hogshead – raised up their heads, and, after taking a leisurely survey of us, seemed to think us unworthy of further notice; and then, punching each other again in the face, fell once more asleep. This was exhibiting a degree of coolness rather alarming. If they had showed the least timidity we should have found some excitement in extra caution; but they seemed to make so light of our approach that it was not easy to keep up the bold front with which we had commenced the adventure. But we had come quite too far to think of backing out; so we pulled in and made ready for the fray.
“Beside the old bulls, the group contained several cows and a few calves of various sizes, – some evidently yearlings, others but recently born, and others half or three-quarters grown. Some were without tusks, while on others they were just sprouting; and above this they were of all sizes up to those of the big bulls, which had great curved cones of ivory, nearly 3 feet long. At length we were within a few boats’ lengths of the ice-raft, and the game had not taken alarm. They had probably never seen a boat before. Our preparations were made as we approached. The walrus will always sink when dead, unless held up by a harpoon-line; and there was therefore but two chances for us to secure our game – either to shoot the beast dead on the raft, or to get a harpoon well into him after he was wounded, and hold on to him until he was killed. As to killing the animal where he lay, that was not likely to happen, for the thick skin destroys the force of the ball before it can reach any vital part, and indeed, at a distance, actually flattens it; and the skull is so heavy that it is hard to penetrate with an ordinary bullet, unless the ball happens to strike through the eye.
“To Miller, a cool and spirited fellow, who had been after whales on the ‘nor’-west coast,’ was given the harpoon, and he took his station in the bows; while Knorr, Jensen, and myself kept our places in the stern-sheets, and held our rifles in readiness. Each selected his animal, and we fired in concert over the heads of the oarsmen. As soon as the rifles were discharged, I ordered the men to ‘give way,’ and the boat shot right among the startled animals as they rolled off pell-mell into the sea. Jensen had fired at the head of one of the bulls, and hit him in the neck; Knorr killed a young one, which was pushed off in the hasty scramble and sank; while I planted a minie-bullet somewhere in the head of the other bull and drew from him a most frightful bellow – louder, I venture to say, than ever came from wild bull of Bashan. When he rolled over into the water, which he did with a splash that sent the spray flying all over us, he almost touched the bows of the boat, and gave Miller a good opportunity to get in his harpoon, which he did in capital style.
“The alarmed herd seemed to make straight for the bottom, and the line spun out over the gunwale at a fearful pace; but having several coils in the boat, the end was not reached before the animals began to rise, and we took in the slack and got ready for what was to follow. The strain of the line whipped the boat around among some loose fragments of ice, and the line having fouled among it, we should have been in great jeopardy had not one of the sailors promptly sprung out, cleared the line, and defended the boat.
“In a few minutes the whole herd appeared at the surface, about 50 yards away from us, the harpooned animal being among them. Miller held fast to his line, and the boat was started with a rush. The coming up of the herd was the signal for a scene which baffles description. They uttered one wild concerted shriek, as if an agonised call for help; and then the air was filled with answering shrieks. The ‘huk! huk! huk!’ of the wounded bulls seemed to find an echo everywhere, as the cry was taken up and passed along from floe to floe, like the bugle-blast passed from squadron to squadron along a line of battle; and down from every piece of ice plunged the startled beasts, as quickly as the sailor drops from his hammock when the long-roll beats to quarters. With their ugly heads just above the water, and with mouths wide open, belching forth the dismal ‘huk! huk! huk!’ they came tearing toward the boat.
“In a few moments we were completely surrounded, and the numbers kept multiplying with astonishing rapidity. The water soon became alive and black with them.
“They seemed at first to be frightened and irresolute, and for a time it did not seem that they meditated mischief; but this pleasing prospect was soon dissipated, and we were forced to look well to our safety.
“That they meditated an attack there could no longer be a doubt. To escape the onslaught was impossible. We had raised a hornet’s nest about our ears in a most astonishingly short space of time, and we must do the best we could. Even the wounded animal to which we were fast turned upon us, and we became the focus of at least a thousand gaping, bellowing mouths.
“It seemed to be the purpose of the walrus to get their tusks over the gunwale of the boat, and it was evident that, in the event of one such monster hooking on to us, the boat would be torn in pieces, and we would be left floating in the sea helpless. We had good motive, therefore, to be active. Miller plied his lance from the bows, and gave many a serious wound. The men pushed back the onset with their oars, while Knorr, Jensen, and myself loaded and fired our rifles as rapidly as we could. Several times we were in great jeopardy, but the timely thrust of an oar, or the lance, or a bullet saved us. Once I thought we were surely gone. I had fired, and was hastening to load; a wicked-looking brute was making at us, and it seemed probable that he would be upon us. I stopped loading, and was preparing to cram my rifle down his throat, when Knorr, who had got ready his weapon, sent a fatal shot into his head. Again, an immense animal, the largest that I had ever seen, and with tusks apparently 3 feet long, was observed to be making his way through the herd with mouth wide open, bellowing dreadfully. I was now as before busy loading; Knorr and Jensen had just discharged their pieces, and the men were well engaged with their oars. It was a critical moment, but happily I was in time. The monster, his head high above the boat, was within 2 feet of the gunwale, when I raised my piece and fired into his mouth. The discharge killed him instantly, and he went down like a stone.
“This ended the fray. I know not why, but the whole herd seemed suddenly to take alarm, and all dove down with a tremendous splash almost at the same instant. When they came up again, still shrieking as before, they were some distance from us, their heads all now pointed seaward, making from us as fast as they could go, their cries growing more and more faint as they retreated in the distance. We must have killed at least a dozen, and mortally wounded as many more. The water was in places red with blood, and several half-dead and dying animals lay floating about us. The bull to which we were made fast pulled away with all his might after the retreating herd, but his strength soon became exhausted; and, as his speed slackened, we managed to haul in the line, and finally approached him so nearly that our rifle-balls took effect, and Miller at length gave him the coup de grâce with his lance. We then drew him to the nearest piece of ice, and I had soon a fine specimen to add to my Natural History collections. Of the others we secured only one; the rest had died and sunk before we reached them.
“I have never before regarded the walrus as a really formidable animal; but this contest convinces me that I have done their courage great injustice. They are full of fight; and had we not been very active and self-possessed, our boat would have been torn to pieces, and we either drowned or killed. A more fierce attack than that which they made upon us could hardly be imagined, and a more formidable-looking enemy than one of these huge monsters, with his immense tusks and bellowing throat, would be difficult to find. Next time I try them I will arm my boat’s crew with lances. The rifle is a poor reliance, and but for the oars, the herd would have been on top of us at any time.”
Upon the top of the hill on the north side of the harbour a cairn was constructed, and under it Hayes deposited a brief record of the voyage. On the 11th July 1861, the ice broke up in the harbour, and the schooner was once more afloat, after ten months’ imprisonment.
On the 13th July, Hayes took leave of the Esquimaux, who were sorry to see him depart.
Hayes, although doubtful as to the prospect ahead, was determined not to quit the field without making another attempt to reach the west coast and endeavour to obtain some further information that might be of service in the future. He still had a vague hope that, even with his crippled vessel, some such good prospect might open before him as would justify him in remaining. He therefore held once more for Cape Isabella, but met the pack about 10 miles from the Greenland shore. He turned back and anchored between Littleton and McGary Islands. After a few days’ delay, another attempt was made, and in two days the west coast was reached near Gale Point, about 10 miles below Cape Isabella. Hayes then took a whale-boat to the cape, but found it impassable.
His opinion of the situation was thus recorded at the time: —
“I am fully persuaded, if there still remained a lingering doubt, of the correctness of my decision to return home, and come out next year strengthened and refitted with steam. If my impulses lead me to try conclusions once more with the ice, my judgment convinces me that it would be at the risk of everything. As well use a Hudson River steamboat for a battering-ram as this schooner, with her weakened bows, to encounter the Smith Sound ice.
“I have secured the following important advantages for the future, and with these I must, perforce, rest satisfied, for the present: —
“(1) I have brought my party through without sickness, and have thus shown that the Arctic winter of itself breeds neither scurvy nor discontent.
“(2) I have shown that men may subsist themselves in Smith Sound independent of support from home.
“(3) That a self-sustaining colony may be established at Port Foulke, and be made the basis of an extended exploration.
“(4) That the exploration of this entire region is practicable from Port Foulke – having from that starting-point pushed my discoveries much beyond those of my predecessors, without any second party in the field to co-operate with me, and under the most adverse circumstances.
“(5) That, with a reasonable degree of certainty, it is shown that, with a strong vessel, Smith Sound may be navigated and the open sea reached beyond it.
“(6) I have shown that the open sea exists.”
In returning home, Hayes visited Whale Sound and explored it as far as he could, and named Inglefield Gulf.
At Upernavik news was received of trouble in the United States, but it was not till they put in to Halifax, Nova Scotia, that they learnt that civil war had broken out. This was terrible news to Hayes. He had intended to return to the Arctic regions with a ship fitted with steam-power, and to continue his explorations. The war altered everything. As soon as he reached Boston he wrote to the President, asking for immediate employment in the public service, and offering his schooner to the Government as a gun-boat.
Hayes’ book is written in delightful language, but grave doubts have been cast upon the extent of his discoveries. It was afterwards found that Lady Franklin Bay was 6 degrees farther east than Hayes placed it, and the description given by Hayes of his farthest north does not agree with what is seen in the neighbourhood of Lady Franklin Bay.