Chapter II

During the years succeeding Nansen's expedition the desire to reach the North Pole itself took possession of the minds of many brave men. Bit by bit the Arctic regions had been mapped out; gradually the obstacles that maintained the Pole in its splendid isolation were being overcome. Some years were to pass before its mysteries were unveiled, but in those years there was an almost continuous effort to probe those mysteries.

Nansen had discovered beyond any doubt that the Pole lay in an ice-covered sea, an inhospitable place enough; but this fact did not prevent explorers from wanting actually to locate it, and in 1900 the Duke of the Abruzzi tried to reach it by way of Franz-Josef Land. Owing to a frost-bitten hand, the Duke could not take part in the main journey of his expedition, and so Captain Cagni commanded it. The Pole withstood this effort, but Cagni did succeed in reaching 86° 33' N., and thus beat Nansen's record for "farthest north."

Previous to the Abruzzi expedition, Robert Peary had launched his first great attack upon the Pole. This expedition lasted for four years--1898 to 1902--but Peary encountered such dense packs of ice, which blocked his way to the Polar Ocean, that he failed in his main object.

Another attempt followed in 1906, and although this was not crowned with complete success, Peary made a world's record for "farthest north" by reaching 87° 6'. In this expedition he nearly lost his life, but he returned to America with the grim determination to make yet another attempt. Experience had been bought by Peary in abundance and at a great cost, and to this was added an energy that was remarkable even among Polar explorers. This third voyage to the Polar regions had, in the nature of things, to be his last. He was, when he set out upon it, fifty-three years of age, and although, after spending over twenty years in Arctic work, he had an experience that was invaluable, even experience cannot make an Arctic explorer forget that youth is also a great asset in the Polar regions.

In May, 1908, Peary published his programme, the main features of which are worthy of record. He decided to use the same ship, the _Roosevelt_, which had taken him to the north in his 1906 expedition. His route was to be by way of Smith Sound; his winter quarters were to be at Cape Sheridan, or even nearer to the Pole if the ship could proceed farther; he intended to use sledges and Eskimo dogs for traction; and, lastly, he placed his confidence in Eskimos, the Arctic Highlanders, as the rank-and-file of his sledge parties.

Most careful preparations were made for this expedition, and while Peary was making them he received much practical support, but also some suggestions that were not notably helpful. For instance, one cheerful crank invited him to become a "human cannon-ball"--some sort of machine was to be taken to the North, and then, when it was pointed towards the Pole, the inventor assured Peary that it would shoot him there in no time. The explorer did not see his way to accepting such an abrupt means of transit!

When the _Roosevelt_ sailed on 17th July, 1908, she had twenty-two men on board, including Peary himself, Robert Bartlett, master of the _Roosevelt_, George Wardwell, Dr. Goodsell, Professor Marvin, Donald McMillan, George Borop, and Matthew Henson, Peary's negro assistant, who had accompanied him on many expeditions.

When Peary's vast knowledge of the Polar regions is remembered, his remarks on the essentials required in an Arctic sledge journey must admittedly be valuable. "The essentials, and the only essentials," he writes, "needed in a serious Arctic sledge journey, no matter what the season, the temperature, or the duration of the journey--whether one month or six--are four: pemmican, tea, ship's biscuit, condensed milk."* And it is interesting to note that of these commodities he took 50,000 lbs. of pemmican, 10,000 lbs. of biscuit, 800 lbs. of tea, and 100 cases of condensed milk on this expedition.

* Robert Peary's _The North Pole_ (Hodder and Stoughton).

The _Roosevelt_ reached Cape York, Greenland, on 1st August, and there she said a temporary good-bye to the civilized world. There also Peary met the Eskimos, whose friendship he had gained by many and continuous acts of kindness. The Eskimos are, within their limits, a lovable and loyal people; their good qualities are those of nice children, their bad qualities those of mischievous children. "I have made it a point," Peary says, "to be firm with them, but to rule them by love and gratitude rather than by fear and threats. An Eskimo, like an Indian, never forgets a broken promise--nor a fulfilled one." These Eskimos live on the verge of starvation for many months in the year, but if they are not troubled by questions of morality in one sense of the word, they are at any rate ready to share what they have got in the way of food, or of means to obtain it, with those who are less fortunate than themselves. Religion, as we understand it, does not enter into their scheme of things, but they pay studious attention to spirits--especially to Tornarsuk, who is the devil himself, and consequently leader of all evil spirits. One can appreciate the childlikeness of people who will rip an old garment to shreds so that the devil may be prevented from wearing it!

After leaving Cape York, Peary transferred himself for some days to the _Erik_, his auxiliary supply steamer, so that he could collect as many Eskimos and dogs as he required. By 11th August the _Erik_ reached Etah, and rejoined the _Roosevelt_. Finally, Peary selected 49 Eskimos and 246 dogs, and having transferred them to the _Roosevelt_, the explorers set out to fight their way through the 350 miles of ice-blocked water that separated Etah from Cape Sheridan. And the ice during that journey was in no gentle mood. So great were the risks that the ship might at any time be crushed, that the boats, fully equipped and provisioned, were always ready to be lowered at a moment's notice.

A terrific battle with that uncompromising opponent, the ice, followed, but not until 30th August did the struggle reach its climax. On that day the ship was "kicked about by the floes as if she had been a football," and the pressure was so terrific that Peary decided to dynamite the ice. This operation was successful in relieving the situation, but some days passed before even the greatest optimist in the ship could consider her free from danger. But on 5th September the _Roosevelt_ managed to fight her way through to Cape Sheridan; and after a project to take her on to Porter Bay had been abandoned, the work of unloading her was begun, and with her lighter load Captain Bartlett proceeded to get her as near the shore as possible.

The first stage on the way to the Pole was behind the explorers, and if the next stage was shorter in distance, it was no less important a part of the whole scheme. This second stage consisted of the transportation of supplies from Cape Sheridan to Cape Columbia, ninety miles north-west of the ship. Cape Columbia is the most northerly point of Grant Land, and from there Peary had determined to make his dash over the ice to the Pole. But to move an enormous quantity of supplies over such a distance was work that needed much thought and care, for in the first place some of Peary's companions were unused to driving sledges, and, secondly, neither the weather nor the track were likely to give them much assistance.

These sledging parties on the way to Cape Columbia were soon organized, and, in addition, hunting parties were sent out, and a supply of fresh meat for the winter was obtained. "Imagine us," Peary wrote, "in our winter home on the _Roosevelt_ ... the ship held tight in her icy berth, a hundred and fifty yards from the shore, the ship and the surrounding world covered with snow, the wind creaking in the rigging, whistling and shrieking round the corners of the deck houses, the temperatures ranging from zero to sixty below, and the ice-pack in the channel outside groaning and complaining with the movement of the tides."

In these words Peary gives us an excellent picture of the explorers' winter home--a home upon which the sun never shone for many months, but which, in spite of the darkness, was a home of unceasing industry and preparation. And among the innumerable activities that took place, none was more important than the task of attending to the dogs. Early in November, Peary had become anxious about these all-important factors of his expedition. Over fifty of them were already dead, and a few days later only 160 dogs out of the 245 with which he had arrived were left. A change of diet from whale to walrus meat put an end to these appalling losses; but Peary's anxiety until he discovered a way to prevent them can be easily imagined. For without any adequate supply of dogs he knew all too well that neither he nor any one else would ever reach the Pole.

By the end of the autumn season snow igloos had been built on the track to Cape Columbia. We have the best authority--namely, Peary's--for saying that one of these snow-houses can be built by four good workmen in an hour. Into this shelter the traveller literally crawls, for the only means of entrance is a hole at the bottom of one side, and when the last man of the party has got in, this opening is closed up by a block of snow already cut for the purpose.

Except for one most alarming experience, when in a terrific gale the ice made a stupendous attempt against the invading ship, the winter was spent rather with anxiety about the future than with worry about the present. No wonder that Peary speculated over what awaited him when he started upon his great march. After leaving Cape Columbia, over 400 miles separated him from his goal, and these miles had to be travelled over the ice of the Polar sea. "There is no land," he writes, "_between Cape Columbia and the North Pole, and no smooth and very little level ice._" But even ice through which the traveller must sometimes pick-axe his way is not the most serious impediment to those who would reach the Pole. The great obstacles--the ever-present source of anxiety--are the "leads" which constantly appear. These "leads" are really patches of open water, varying in extent, which the winds and tides cause in the ice's movement. For no reason that is apparent, these dangerous obstacles suddenly block the explorer's advance, and little can be done save to wait for them to remove themselves. These "leads" were to be Peary's greatest impediment in his march, and were destined to be fatal to one valued member of his party.

The final attack on the Pole began on 15th February, 1909, when Bartlett, with a pioneer party, left the Roosevelt, and a week later Peary started on his way. At this time 7 members of the expedition, 19 Eskimos, 140 dogs, and 28 sledges, divided into various parties, were engaged in the great effort to reach the Pole. It was arranged that all of these parties should meet Peary at Cape Columbia on the last day of February; and on that day Bartlett and Borop started from the cape with advance parties. The duties of these advance parties were as onerous as they were important. For it was to Bartlett that Peary looked for a trail by which the main party could travel.

On the second day's march, after Peary had left Cape Columbia and the land behind him, he met with his first open "lead," and a slight delay occurred. But on the following day this "lead" was covered with young ice, and Peary determined to cross it. "If the reader," he wrote, "will imagine crossing a river on a succession of gigantic shingles, one, two, or three deep, and all afloat and moving, he will perhaps form an idea of the uncertain surface over which we crossed this 'lead.' Such a passage is distinctly trying, as any moment may lose a sledge and its team, or plunge a member of the party into the icy water." And later on, when Borop was crossing an open crack, his dogs fell into the water, and the loss both of the dogs and the sledge with its invaluable load of provisions was only prevented by Borop's exceptional quickness and strength.

The explorers had advanced nearly 50 miles from Cape Columbia, when they were held up by a big "lead," which refused most obstinately to cover itself with ice strong enough to bear the sledges. For a week this open water delayed the expedition, and Peary had good reason to wonder if his most careful preparation and organization were once more to miss the success that they deserved. On 11th March, however, the parties managed to cross the "lead," and on the march that followed they crossed the 84th parallel.

When the explorers started on this journey, Peary did not announce how far each one of his companions was to accompany him on the march, and presently Dr. Goodsell and MacMillan, with Eskimos, sledges, and dogs, turned back. Then the main expedition consisted of 16 men, 12 sledges, and 100 dogs. On 19th March, Peary revealed the programme he intended to follow to Bartlett, Marvin, Borop, and Henson. First of all Borop was to turn back; five marches farther on Marvin was to go; and after another five marches Bartlett was to leave the Polar party, which would then consist of 6 men, 40 dogs, and 5 sledges.

Unlike most programmes, this one of Peary's was faithfully carried out. Borop returned when 85° 23' was reached, and during the next days the explorers advanced so rapidly that they succeeded in passing both Nansen's and the Duke of the Abruzzi's record for farthest north. In turn, first Bartlett and then Marvin started upon the homeward track, and Peary was left with 4 Eskimos--Egingwah, Seegloo, Ootah, and Ooqueah--Henson, 5 sledges, and 40 dogs.

Of these Eskimos, Ooqueah was the only one who had not been in any previous expedition; but all the same he was the most romantic of the party, because he was intent upon winning the rewards that would enable him to marry the girl of his choice. Glimmering before his eyes Ooqueah saw a whale-boat, a rifle, and other prizes which Peary had promised to those who went with him to the farthest point. Not for a moment was there any doubt about Ooqueah's keenness, for he was spurred on by two of the greatest incentives that any young man can have--a desire to be wealthy, and a desire to marry.

Left alone with Henson and the Eskimos, Peary still had 133 nautical miles* to travel before he reached his goal. This distance he intended to cover in five marches, and, provided that the gales would leave him in peace and not open the "leads" of water, he had every hope of carrying out his intention.

* A nautical mile is approximately 2,026 yards.

Up to this stage in the march Peary had been whipper-in, but in the last stages he led the van. And during the concluding stages it must be admitted that fortune smiled upon the travellers. True, that in this almost breathless rush for the Pole "leads" were not entirely absent, but such as were encountered did not seriously delay the marches. As, however, Peary got nearer and nearer to the Pole, the fear that the prize might at the last moment be snatched away from him by an impassable "lead" was constantly with him.

On 5th April the party reached 89° 25' N., and were within 35 miles of the Pole. So near, indeed, were they, that Peary writes: "By some strange shift of feeling the fear of the "leads" had fallen from me completely. I now felt that success was certain...."

And his confidence was justified. On April 6, 1909, Peary, with his coloured assistant, Matthew Henson, and the four Eskimos, reached the Pole, and there the leader of this successful party wrote the following note;--

"90° N. Lat., North Pole,
6_th April_ 1909.

"I have to-day hoisted the national ensign of the United States of America at this place, which my observations indicate to be the North Pole axis of the earth, and have formally taken possession of the entire region and adjacent, for and in the name of the President of the United States of America. I leave this record and United States flag in possession.

"ROBERT E. PEARY,
"United States Navy."

The explorers spent thirty hours at the Pole, and then started upon the long journey back to the coast of Grant Land. By 23rd April, favoured by beautiful weather, the party had reached Cape Columbia; so favoured, indeed, had they been that Ootah remarked on their arrival that "the devil is asleep or having trouble with his wife, or we should never have come back so easily."

On that same day Peary wrote in his diary: "I have got the North Pole out of my system after twenty-three years of effort, hard work, disappointments, hardships, privations, more or less suffering, and some risks."

The joy of success, tremendous as it was, could not but be dimmed by the news that awaited Peary on his return to the ship. For Marvin had lost his life, on the return journey, in trying to cross some young and treacherous ice, and the loss of this gallant and able man illustrates all too sadly the "some risks" of which Peary wrote--risks which all explorers in greater or less measure have to run.

As a conclusion to this chapter of adventure and determined effort, the words of that prince of explorers, Fridtjof Nansen, seem peculiarly appropriate. "From first to last," he wrote, "the history of Polar exploration is a single mighty manifestation of the power of the Unknown over the mind of man."