This night we had
plenty of dry wood.
On the 29th we had clear and fine weather. We set out at sunrise and
hurried on in our anxiety to reach the house, but our progress was much
impeded by the great depth of the snow in the valleys. Although every
spot of ground over which we travelled today had been repeatedly trodden
by us yet we got bewildered in a small lake. We took it for Marten Lake,
which was three times its size, and fancied that we saw the rapids and
the grounds about the fort, although they were still far distant. Our
disappointment when this illusion was dispelled by our reaching the end
of the lake so operated on our feeble minds as to exhaust our strength,
and we decided upon encamping but, upon ascending a small eminence to
look for a clump of wood, we caught a glimpse of the Big Stone, a
well-known rock upon the summit of a hill opposite to the fort, and
determined upon proceeding. In the evening we saw several large herds of
reindeer but Hepburn, who used to be considered a good marksman, was now
unable to hold the gun straight and although he got near them all his
efforts proved fruitless. In passing through a small clump of pines we
saw a flock of partridges, and he succeeded in killing one after firing
several shots. We came in sight of the fort at dusk and it is impossible
to describe our sensations when, on attaining the eminence that overlooks
it, we beheld the smoke issuing from one of the chimneys. From not having
met with any footsteps in the snow as we drew nigh our once cheerful
residence we had been agitated by many melancholy forebodings. Upon
entering the now desolate building we had the satisfaction of embracing
Captain Franklin, but no words can convey an idea of the filth and
wretchedness that met our eyes on looking around. Our own misery had
stolen upon us by degrees and we were accustomed to the contemplation of
each other's emaciated figures, but the ghastly countenances, dilated
eyeballs, and sepulchral voices of Captain Franklin and those with him
were more than we could at first bear.
CONCLUSION OF DR. RICHARDSON'S NARRATIVE.
...
The morning of the 31st was very cold, the wind being strong from the
north. Hepburn went again in quest of deer and the Doctor endeavoured to
kill some partridges, both were unsuccessful. A large herd of deer passed
close to the house, the Doctor fired once at them but was unable to
pursue them. Adam was easier this day and left his bed. Peltier and
Samandre were much weaker and could not assist in the labours of the day.
Both complained of soreness in the throat and Samandre suffered much from
cramps in his fingers. The Doctor and Hepburn began this day to cut the
wood and also brought it to the house. Being too weak to aid in these
laborious tasks I was employed in searching for bones and cooking and
attending to our more weakly companions.
In the evening Peltier, complaining much of cold, requested of me a
portion of a blanket to repair his shirt and drawers. The mending of
these articles occupied him and Samandre until past one A.M. and their
spirits were so much revived by the employment that they conversed even
cheerfully the whole time. Adam sat up with them. The Doctor, Hepburn,
and myself went to bed. We were afterwards agreeably surprised to see
Peltier and Samandre carry three or four logs of wood across the room to
replenish the fire, which induced us to hope they still possessed more
strength than we had supposed.
November 1.
This day was fine and mild. Hepburn went hunting but was as usual
unsuccessful. As his strength was rapidly declining we advised him to
desist from the pursuit of deer, and only to go out for a short time and
endeavour to kill a few partridges for Peltier and Samandre. The Doctor
obtained a little tripe de roche but Peltier could not eat any of it, and
Samandre only a few spoonfuls, owing to the soreness of their throats. In
the afternoon Peltier was so much exhausted that he sat up with
difficulty and looked piteously; at length he slid from his stool upon
his bed, as we supposed to sleep, and in this composed state he remained
upwards of two hours without our apprehending any danger. We were then
alarmed by hearing a rattling in his throat and on the Doctor's examining
him he was found to be speechless. He died in the course of the night.
Samandre sat up the greater part of the day and even assisted in pounding
some bones but, on witnessing the melancholy state of Peltier, he became
very low and began to complain of cold and stiffness of the joints. Being
unable to keep up a sufficient fire to warm him we laid him down and
covered him with several blankets. He did not however appear to get
better and I deeply lament to add he also died before daylight. We
removed the bodies of the deceased into the opposite part of the house
but our united strength was inadequate to the task of interring them or
even carrying them down to the river.
It may be worthy of remark that poor Peltier, from the time of Benoit's
departure, had fixed on the first of November as the time when he should
cease to expect any relief from the Indians, and had repeatedly said that
if they did not arrive by that day he should not survive.
