Sir Robert McClure, his ship trapped in Arctic ice in 1853 during a search for John Franklin’s lost expedition, encounters the member of another search expedition, this one coming to his rescue. From McClure’s journal:
While walking near the ship, in conversation with the first lieutenant upon the subject of digging the grave for the man who died yesterday, and discussing how we could cut a grave in the ground whilst it was so hardly frozen—a subject naturally sad and depressing—we perceived a figure walking rapidly towards us from the rough ice at the entrance of the bay. . . . His face was as black as ebony, and really at that moment we might be pardoned for wondering whether he was a denizen of this or the other world; and had he but given us a glimpse of a tail or a cloven hoof, we should assuredly have taken to our legs: as it was, we gallantly stood our ground, and, had the skies fallen upon us, we could hardly have been more astonished than when the dark-faced stranger called out: “I am Lieutenant Pim!”
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