On the 29th of May, final leave was taken of the _Victory_, her colours nailed to the mast, a parting glass drunk in her honour, and the brave old ship left to her Arctic loneliness. Not until the first of July did the whole crew reach Fury Beach, after incredible obstacles had been encountered and overcome, the slow and laborious advance made more arduous by the heavy loads they carried.
Immediately, however, they set to work and reared a canvas shelter, which they called Somerset House. The following month was spent in fitting out their boats. An open sea now gave them hope of reaching, through Barrow Strait, to Baffin Bay. Icebergs and gales proved most disastrous to their hopes and, after making a heroic attempt, they found it necessary to return to Fury Beach and spend their fourth winter in the Arctic.
The winter proved exceedingly severe, and their canvas shelter quite inadequate to keeping out the cold. However, matters were improved by a thick snow wall. Sickness, in the dreaded form of scurvy, caused much uneasiness, and in February, 1833, one of their number succumbed to the disease. Their situation had now become alarming, for if they were not liberated the following summer, there was little chance of any of their number surviving another year.
As early in the season as it was possible to travel, they set forth on their life-and-death struggle for safety. Reduced in strength, many of the men being sick, the laborious process of advancing their loads was even slower than the preceding year. However, by the 12th of July, they all reached their boat station in Batty Bay. Not until August 14 was a lane of water leading northward discovered, and, embarking at an early hour the following morning, they pursued their course with rising spirits. On the evening of the 16th, they were at the northeastern point of America with the open sea ahead of them. Icebergs were numerous, but their courage was gaining every moment, and they took small note of such obstacles. Passing through Barrow Strait, they made that day seventy-two miles. Delayed by contrary winds, they did not reach Navy Board Inlet until the 25th, where they harboured for the night.
Early the following morning, they were aroused from sleep by the lookout man calling “a sail,” but though they made every effort to reach this ship, it passed them by unobserved. At ten o’clock they sighted another vessel which was becalmed. By hard rowing they reached her and found her to be the _Isabella_ of Hull, a ship in which Ross had made his first voyage to those seas. The captain and mate could hardly believe their eyes when Ross announced that he and his party were the survivors of the _Victory_, which had been given up for lost more than two years previously. Ross describes the scene on board that followed:—