by Jules Verne
WINTER PLEASURES
It is a dreary affair to live at the Pole, for there is no going outfor many long months, and nothing to break the weary monotony.
The day after the hunting excursion was dark and snowy, andClawbonny could find no occupation except polishing up the ice wallsof the hut as they became damp with the heat inside, and emptyingout the snow which drifted into the long passage leading to theinner door. The "Snow-House" stood out well, defying storm andtempest, and the snow only seemed to increase the thickness of thewalls.
The storehouses, too, did not give way the least; but though theywere only a few yards off, it was found necessary to lay in enoughprovisions for the day, as very often the weather made it almostimpossible to venture that short distance.
The unloading of the Porpoise turned out to have been a wiseprecaution, for she was slowly but surely being crashed to pieces bythe silent, irresistible pressure around her. Still the Doctor wasalways hoping enough planks might be sufficiently sound to constructa small vessel to convey them back to England, but the right time tobuild had not come.
]
]
The five men were consequently compelled to spend the greater partof the day in complete idleness. Hatteras lolled on his bed absorbedin thought. Altamont smoked or dozed, and the Doctor took care notto disturb either of them, for he was in perpetual fear of a quarrelbetween them.
At meal times he always led the conversation away from irritatingtopics and sought, as far as possible, to instruct and interest allparties. Whenever he was not engaged with the preparation of hisnotes, he gave them dissertations on history, geography, ormeteorology, handling his subject in an easy, though philosophicalmanner, drawing lessons from the most trivial incidents. Hisinexhaustible memory was never at a loss for fact or illustrationwhen his good humour and geniality made him the life and soul of thelittle company. He was implicitly trusted by all, even by Hatteras,who cherished a deep affection for him.
Yet no man felt the compulsory confinement more painfully thanClawbonny. He longed ardently for the breaking up of the frost toresume his excursions though he dreaded the rivalry that might ensuebetween the two captains.
Yet things must come to a crisis soon or late, and meantime heresolved to use his best endeavors to bring both parties to a bettermind, but to reconcile an American and an Englishman was no easytask. He and Johnson had many a talk on the subject, for the oldsailor's views quite coincided with his own as to the difficultcomplications which awaited them in the future.
However, the bad weather continued, and leaving Fort Providence,even for an hour, was out of the question. Day and night they werepent up in these glittering ice-walls, and time hung heavily ontheir hands, at least on all but the Doctor's, and he alwaysmanaged to find some occupation for himself.
]
"I declare," said Altamont, one evening; "life like this isnot worth having. We might as well be some of those reptiles thatsleep all the winter. But I suppose there is no help for it."
"I am afraid not," said the Doctor; "unfortunately we are toofew in number to get up any amusement."
"Then you think if there were more of us, we should find more todo?"
"Of course: when whole ships' crews have wintered here, theyhave managed to while away the time famously."
"Well, I must say I should like to know how. It would need a vastamount of ingenuity to extract anything amusing out of ourcircumstances. I suppose they did not play at charades?"
"No, but they introduced the press and the theatre."
"What? They had a newspaper?" exclaimed the American.
"They acted a comedy?" said Bell.
"That they did," said the Doctor. "When Parry wintered atMelville Island, he started both amusements among his men, and theymet with great success."
"Well, I must confess, I should like to have been there,"returned Johnson; "for it must have been rather curious work."
"Curious and amusing too, my good Johnson. Lieutenant Beechey wasthe theatre manager, and Captain Sabina chief editor of thenewspaper called 'The Winter Chronicle, or the Gazette of NorthernGeorgia.'"
"Good titles," said Altamont.
"The newspaper appeared daily from the 1st of November, 1819, tothe 20th of March, 1820. It reported the different excursions, andhunting parties, and accidents, and adventures, and publishedamusing stories. No doubt the articles were not up to the'Spectator' or the 'Daily Telegraph,' but the readers wereneither critical nor blase, and found great pleasure in theirperusal."
]
"My word!" said Altamont. "I should like to read some of thearticles."
"Would you? Well, you shall judge for yourself."
"What! can you repeat them from memory?"
"No; but you had Parry's Voyages on board the Porpoise, and Ican read you his own narrative if you like."
This proposition was so eagerly welcomed that the Doctor fetched thebook forthwith, and soon found the passage in question.
"Here is a letter," he said, "addressed to the editor."
"'Your proposition to establish a journal has been received byus with the greatest satisfaction. I am convinced that, under yourdirection, it will be a great source of amusement, and go a long wayto lighten our hundred days of darkness.
"'The interest I take in the matter myself has led me to studythe effect of your announcement on my comrades, and I can testify,to use reporter's language, that the thing has produced an immensesensation.
"'The day after your prospectus appeared, there was an unusualand unprecedented demand for ink among us, and our green tableclothwas deluged with snippings and parings of quill-pens, to the injuryof one of our servants, who got a piece driven right under his nail.I know for a fact that Sergeant Martin had no less than ninepen-knives to sharpen.
"'It was quite a novel sight to see all the writing-desksbrought out, which had not made their appearance for a couple ofmonths, and judging by the reams of paper visible, more than onevisit must have been made to the depths of the hold.
"'I must not forget to tell you, that I believe attempts willbe made to slip into your box sundry articles which are notaltogether original, as they have been published already. I candeclare that, no later than last night, I saw an author bending overhis desk, holding a volume of the "Spectator" open with onehand, and thawing the frozen ink in his pen at the lamp with theother. I need not warn you to be on your guard against such tricks,for it would never do for us to have articles in our "WinterChronicle" which our great-grandfathers read over theirbreakfast-tables a century ago.'"
"Well, well," said Altamont, "there is a good deal of cleverhumour in that writer. He must have been a sharp fellow."
"You're right. Here is an amusing catalogue of Arctictribulations:--
"'To go out in the morning for a walk, and the moment you putyour foot outside the ship, find yourself immersed in the cook'swater-hole.
"'To go out hunting, and fall in with a splendid reindeer, takeaim, and find your gun has gone off with a flash in the pan, owingto damp powder.
"'To set out on a march with a good supply of soft new bread inyour pocket, and discover, when you want to eat, that it has frozenso hard that you would break your teeth if you attempted to bite itthrough.
"'To rush from the table when it is reported that a wolf is insight, and on coming back to find the cat has eaten your dinner.
"'To be returning quietly home from a walk, absorbed inprofitable meditation, and suddenly find yourself in the embrace ofa bear.'
"We might supplement this list ourselves," said the Doctor,"to almost any amount, for there is a sort of pleasure inenumerating troubles when one has got the better of them."
"I declare," said Altamont, "this 'Winter Journal' is anamusing affair. I wish we could subscribe to it."
"Suppose we start one," said Johnson.
"For us five!" exclaimed Clawbonny; "we might do for editors,but there would not be readers enough."
"No, nor spectators enough, if we tried to
get up a comedy,"added Altamont.
"Tell us some more about Captain Parry's theatre," saidJohnson; "did they play new pieces?"
"Certainly. At first two volumes on board the 'Hecla' weregone through, but as there was a performance once a fortnight, thisrepertoire was soon exhausted. Then they had to improvise freshplays; Parry himself composed one which had immense success. It wascalled 'The North-West Passage, or the End of the Voyage.'"
"A famous title," said Altamont; "but I must confess, if I hadchosen such a subject, I should have been at a loss for thedenouement."
"You are right," said Bell; "who can say what the end willbe?"
"What does that matter?" replied Mr. Clawbonny. "Why should wetrouble about the last act, while the first ones are going on well.Leave all that to Providence, friends; let us each play our ownrole as perfectly as we can, and since the denouement belongs tothe Great Author of all things, we will trust his skill. He willmanage our affairs for us, never fear."
"Well, we'd better go and dream about it," said Johnson,"for it's getting late, and it is time we went to bed," saidJohnson.
"You're in a great hurry, old fellow," replied the Doctor.
"Why would you sit up, Mr. Clawbonny? I am so comfortable in mybed, and then I always have such good dreams. I dream invariably ofhot countries, so that I might almost say, half my life is spent inthe tropics, and half at the North Pole."
"You're a happy man, Johnson," said Altamont, "to be blessedwith such a fortunate organization."
"Indeed I am," replied Johnson.
"Well, come, after that it would be positive cruelty to keep ourgood friend pining here," said the Doctor, "his tropical sunawaits him, so let's all go to bed."
CHAPTER XI
