PEARY IN GREENLAND
The Greenland Question--Departure of the _Kite_--Peary breaks his
Leg--A Camp made--Habits of the Eskimo--A Brush with
Walrus--"Caching" Food--An Arctic Christmas Feast--Peary starts for
the Great Ice-Cap--A Snow Sahara--The Ice-Cap Crossed--A Marvellous
Discovery--Sails on Sledges--A Safe Return.
The disaster and suffering which characterised the termination of the
Greely and _Polaris_ expeditions did not tend to recommend Arctic
exploration as a national enterprise to the Government of the United
States. A vast amount of highly valuable information had been obtained,
not only by these expeditions, but also by the expedition sent out by
the British Government under the command of Sir George Nares. And, in
addition to the information, a further knowledge had been gained, the
knowledge that the same spirit of indomitable pluck, the same tireless
energy, and the same loyalty and devotion to duty dominated both
branches of the great English-speaking race. The magnificent heroism
displayed by the explorers from the _Alert_ and _Discovery_ found a
parallel in the later experiences and exploits of the American
expeditions, and both British and American Governments felt that, for a
time at least, they were justified in resting on the laurels their
gallant sons had won.
But if the Governments were satisfied, the restless spirit of the race
could not remain quiet while secrets still remained in the keeping of
the frozen North. The Pole was still untouched, and, more than that,
there were secrets to be wrested from localities not quite so remote.
The discoveries along the north coast of Greenland opened up the very
interesting question whether the land did not extend right up to the
Pole itself. As far as any one had penetrated to the north of the coast,
land was still to be seen farther on; it was an open question whether
this great ice-covered country was an island, with its northern shores
swept by the Polar ice-floes, or whether it extended almost to the
dimensions of a continent in the Polar region.
The problem appealed strongly to two explorers whose names, by reason of
their exploits during recent years, have become familiar. They are
Nansen and Peary. The former, by his dash for the Pole, during which he
surpassed all previous records of the "farthest North," has dwarfed his
Greenland performances; the latter, by his journey of 1300 miles over
the ice-crowned interior of Greenland, decided the insular character of
the country. It is that journey which forms the subject of this chapter.
Lieutenant Robert E. Peary, an officer in the engineering department of
the United States Navy, failing to obtain Government support for his
scheme of an overland journey to the northern coast of Greenland, was
supported by the Philadelphia Academy of National Science. The
expedition was necessarily small, but that did not affect its utility.
It was, moreover, unique, by the inclusion of Lieutenant Peary's wife as
one of its members; the account which she has given of her sojourn in
high latitudes is one of the most interesting of books on the Arctic
regions.
The party left New York on June 6, 1891, on board the steamer _Kite_,
for Whale Sound, on the north-west coast of Greenland. The voyage was
satisfactory in every way until June 24, when an unfortunate accident
befell the leader.
The _Kite_ had encountered some ice which was heavy enough to check her
progress, and, to get through it, the captain had to ram his ship. This
necessitated a constant change from going ahead to going astern, and, as
there was a good deal of loose ice floating about, the rudder frequently
came into collision with it when the vessel was backing. Lieutenant
Peary, who was on deck during one of these manoeuvres, went over to the
wheelhouse to see how the rudder was bearing the strain. As he stood
behind the wheelhouse, the rudder struck a heavy piece of ice and was
forcibly jerked over, the tiller, as it swung, catching Lieutenant Peary
by the leg and pinning him against the wall of the house. There was no
escape from the position, and the pressure of the tiller gradually
increased until the bone of the leg snapped.
The doctor, who formed one of the party, immediately set the limb; but
the sufferer refused to return home, and when, a few days later, the
_Kite_ reached McCormick Bay, he was carried ashore strapped to a plank.
The material for a comfortably-sized house was part of the outfit of the
expedition, and this was in course of erection the day that Lieutenant
Peary was landed. For the accommodation of himself and wife, a tent was
put up behind the half-completed house, and, as a high wind arose, the
remainder of the party returned on board the _Kite_.
As the hours passed away the wind became stronger. The tent swayed to
and fro, and Mrs. Peary, as she sat beside her invalid and sleeping
husband, realised what it was to be lonely and helpless. She and her
husband were the only people on shore for miles; her husband was unable
to move, and she was without even a revolver with which to defend
herself. What, she asked herself, would be the result if a bear came
into the tent? She could not make the people on board the _Kite_ hear,
and she was without a weapon. Throughout the stay in the North, Mrs.
Peary proved herself not only to be a woman of strong nerve and
self-reliance, but also an excellent shot with either gun, rifle, or
revolver. It was, however, as much as she could stand when her anxious
ears caught the sound of heavy breathing outside the tent.
For a time she sat still, fearing to disturb her husband, until the
continuance of the sound compelled her to look out. A school of white
whales were playing close inshore, and it was the noise of their
blowing, softened by the wind, which had so disturbed her. But so
self-possessed was she over it that her husband did not know till long
afterwards the anxiety she had experienced during the first night she
spent on the Greenland shore.
The following day rapid progress was made with the house, and some of
the party stayed on shore for the night, so that there was always some
one within call of the invalid's tent until the house was completed and
he was removed into it. By that time the _Kite_ had started home again,
and the little party of seven were left to make all their arrangements
for the winter.
They had determined to rely entirely upon their own exertions for the
supply of meat for the winter and also to obtain their fur clothing on
the spot, killing the animals necessary for the material and engaging
some of the local Eskimo to make up the suits. Deer would give both meat
and fur, and as there was every prospect of the neighbourhood affording
them in plenty, as soon as the house was up and the stores packed, the
majority started away in search of game.
The spot where they were landed, and where they had erected their camp,
was on a verdure-covered slope lying between the sea and the high range
of bluff hills which towered about 1000 feet over them. In the spring
the ground was covered with grass and flowers; the bay in front was full
of seal, walrus, whales, and other marine inhabitants, and along the
hills behind experience showed that game was present in abundance. The
Etah Eskimo, the most northerly people in existence, lived their quaint,
out-of-the-world lives along the shores of the bay and neighbouring
inlets, and, as soon as the camp was settled, they were kept busily
employed in the making of fur garments, proving themselves docile and
peaceful. It was often difficult for the members of the expedition to
realise that the site of their camp, with the abundance of food to be
had, was only from fifty to eighty miles from the spots where the
castaways of the _Polaris_ suffered so acutely and the members of the
Greely expedition slowly starved, many of them to death. For more than a
year the little party of seven lived in good health, without a
suggestion of scurvy making its appearance and with only one fatality,
which, moreover, was accidental.
The first hunting expedition was in search of deer, and everybody took
part in it except the leader, who was still crippled by his injured leg
and confined to his room, and his wife. For two or three days the
hunters were away, for they were fortunate in discovering a herd of deer
which they followed until all were bagged. Then, with as many as they
could convey, leaving the others to be fetched later, they set out for
the camp. Their approach was duly signalled, and upon hearing that they
were returning laden, Lieutenant Peary, for the first time, hobbled out
of the house on crutches. As they came up he rested on one leg and his
crutches, while he photographed them and their trophies, after which the
double occasion was celebrated by a banquet in which venison played an
important part.
The deer skins were very important additions to the stock of material
from which the winter clothing was to be made, but other varieties were
needed, especially of the marine animals, as well as some native tailors
to fashion them into coats, hoods, mittens, and all the other articles
of Arctic wear. A boat party was therefore despatched along the shores
of Inglefield Gulf, to spy out the localities where walrus was to be
found, and to induce some of the natives of a village, seen from the
_Kite_, to come over to the camp and sew the new garments.
[Illustration: GROUP OF SMITH SOUND ESKIMO.
The most northerly inhabitants of the world. Lieut. Peary records that
the tribe numbered 253 on September 1st, 1895. Between that date and
August 1, 1896, an epidemic of influenza had reduced them to 229. In
August 1897, they numbered 234.]
The party was successful in both instances, for a number of walrus were
seen and an Eskimo family came back by the boat. The "huskies" consisted
of a man, his wife, and two little children, and they moved with all
their belongings. They were little people, under five feet in height and
almost as broad as they were long, clad in fur jumpers and short
breeches with sealskin boots reaching over their knees. The costume of
both adults was very similar, the only practical difference being in the
tunic or jumper, that of the woman having the hood longer and deeper for
the accommodation of her infant. They had broad, good-natured faces, not
especially handsome nor intelligent in appearance, but distinctly dirty.
In fact, the use of water, other than for drinking, did not appear to be
known to the primitive people, and it was very much a question whether
they had ever tried the experiment of a wash. Once Mrs. Peary was
tempted to give one of the little ones a bath, and she records how
intensely amazed it was at being put into the water, although it was
more than two years old. Surviving the shock, however, it manifested its
pleasure by lustily kicking and splashing. Perhaps later it enjoyed a
well-merited honour amongst its own people as the only one of the tribe
who ever passed through the extraordinary ordeal of soap and water.
In consequence of their innocence of water as a cleansing medium, the
"huskies," as the Peary party affectionately termed them, had two very
distinguishing characteristics not entirely pleasing to more civilised
people. They carried around with them a distinctly impressive aroma, and
also thriving colonies of what are politely termed parasites.
In the matter of clothes they carry their wardrobes on their backs. Fur
garments do not wear out very rapidly, and, when a "husky" is full
grown, the suit of clothes, made in honour of the event, remains in
constant wear until one of two things happens. If the man kills a bear,
he has a costume made of the skin and discards the ordinary sealskin
suit for it. If he does not kill a bear, he wears the sealskin suit
until it no longer keeps him warm, when he gets another. In their snow
houses during the winter and storms, if the temperature is too warm for
them in their thick clothing, they take the clothing off; being a
primitive people, their manners are as simple as their minds.
The first arrivals at the Peary camp were, however, very useful people.
There being no trees in this far northern region, and wood,
consequently, being one of their most valued treasures, they were for
some time unable to comprehend how so much timber had been acquired to
build the house. When they saw a fire made in the stove of refuse bits
of wood they were still more amazed. Never before had they seen so much
fire all at once, and the man, growing curious, kept on feeling the
stove to see what the effect would be. When it was hot enough to burn
his hand he developed a wholesome respect for it, and preferred to
regard the, to him, uncanny object from a distance.
The problem of how the sewing was to be done was rather a difficult one
to the white people for a time. To allow the furs to be taken into the
Eskimo tent was to invite the introduction of an insect population of
which it would be impossible to get rid later. On the other hand, to
allow the huskies to enter the house too frequently was equally
dangerous from the sanitary point of view. A compromise was effected, by
the Eskimo woman doing the sewing near the door of the house with some
one always keeping an eye on her. Later on, when it was found that
little danger existed from the spread of insects if reasonable care were
taken, the workers sat inside the house. They were fairly deft in
handling the needle, and the suits they made for the party were all
excellent and serviceable. These were made on the native pattern, and
the experience of Lieutenant Peary and his comrade Astrup in their
journey over the great ice-cap proved that the native pattern was the
best.
When the woman was set to work, a boat expedition in search of walrus
was organised, with the Eskimo as guide, Lieutenant Peary and his wife
also going. They had not proceeded very many miles up Inglefield Gulf
before a light breeze when they saw, on a floating piece of ice, a dozen
or so of the animals huddled together apparently asleep. Sailing gently
towards them, every one with a rifle ready, a sudden puff of wind sent
the boat ahead quicker and farther than was intended, and it struck the
ice. The walrus, never having seen a sailing boat before, looked round
at it without paying any more attention than if it had been another
piece of ice. But the sight of so many valuable creatures within reach
of his harpoon was too much for the little Eskimo, and he buried the
weapon into the nearest.
At once the attitude of the walrus changed. The wounded member of the
tribe tried to escape, bellowing in its pain, and the rest slid off the
ice into the water and surrounded the boat. Others from neighbouring ice
patches charged rapidly on to the scene, and the situation of the boat
and its occupants was dangerous in the extreme. The poor Eskimo, his
face showing the terror he felt, crouched down in the boat, evidently
expecting to be annihilated by the furious animals that surged round. As
they came up to the boat, they tried to get their great powerful tusks
over the gunwales, and, had one succeeded in doing so, there would have
been slight hopes of any one escaping. Had the boat been capsized, no
one could possibly have survived, and to keep the angry crowd off was no
easy matter.
All around they swarmed, and not less than 250 were estimated to be
engaged in the attack. Lieutenant Peary, with his injured leg, sat in
the stern of the boat, firing at them, and the other white men also kept
up a fusillade, Mrs. Peary, again giving evidence of her strong nerve
and courage, sitting beside her husband and loading the weapons as soon
as they were emptied. The walrus came on in bunches to the attack, and,
immediately they were fired at, all those nearest to the boat leaped out
of the water, and then plunged out of sight. There was always the danger
of one of the huge creatures rising under the boat, and so capsizing it;
but the occupants had no time to think of this. Directly one batch
jumped and disappeared, another batch hastened forward to greet the
volley of bullets in the same way as the others, and be in turn
succeeded by another batch!
The boat was meanwhile gradually approaching the shore, and as the water
became more shallow the walrus exhibited less desire to come to close
quarters, until, at last, the adventurers found that they had beaten off
the last of the swarm. The main body had retreated far up the gulf, only
a few remaining near. Several of those which had been shot, however,
were floating on the surface of the water, and it was decided to go back
and secure them, even at the risk of another attack. Already some of
them were sinking, and many must have gone down while the fight was in
progress. There was a necessity for haste if any of the slain were to be
secured, and with rifles loaded and ready for a fresh attack, the boat
was headed towards the floating carcases.
The operation of securing them was performed without any interruption
from the survivors, and a run was then made for the shore, where the
Eskimo said a lot of seal-skins were "cached." This is the term used in
the Arctic regions to denote the local method of storing food or
possessions. A space is hollowed out in the ground, which, even in the
summer time, is frozen hard a few feet below the surface. The articles
to be stored having been placed in the space, it is covered over with
stones, and the "cache" is completed. Throughout the winter the contents
become frozen into a solid mass, which, protected by the stones or other
covering, does not thaw out during the short summer, and so remains in a
good state of preservation for an almost indefinite period.
Occasionally the "cache" fails to preserve the articles of food entirely
in that state which by the European is termed "fresh"; but as they
rarely have recourse to "cached" provisions, it does not matter very
much. The Eskimo, who constantly preserves his winter supplies in this
manner, has, happily for himself, easier notions about the state and
quality of his food. This was brought home to the party very forcibly.
They had visited several "caches," and obtained enough seal-skin for
their purpose, and, having enjoyed some refreshment, were considering
their return. The Eskimo, Ikwa, then told them that, as all the flesh at
the camp was recently killed, he and his family did not like it. There
was, he said, a fine seal cached in the neighbourhood, which would form
a delicious store for him and his family, and if the leader allowed him
to move it to the boat, and convey it to the encampment, he would be
prepared to yield some of it to the members of the party for their own
special enjoyment. The seal was a beauty, he said, and just in the very
pink of condition. The necessary permission having been given, Ikwa
hurried away for his treasure.
Shortly after, the members of the party noticed a strange penetrating
odour in the air which they at first attributed to the flayed walrus. It
steadily increased, until they were unable to tolerate it, and started
out to seek the cause. As they emerged from under the shelter of the
jutting rock where they had been resting, they descried the little
Eskimo staggering towards them under the burden of a seal almost as
large as himself. The creature had been "cached" about two years, and
was in such a state that gentles fell from it at every step the man
took, and, as Mrs. Peary recorded in her diary, both the sight and the
scent of it overpowered the white people. But to Ikwa it was just in
good condition for eating, and he was especially indignant when he was
made to relinquish it. His clothes, however, would not part with the
odour, and for many days the members of the expedition had reason to
remember that Eskimo like their game high.
As the time passed, and winter approached, every one was kept busy
preparing for the long dark night, and for the journey over the ice-cap
which was to be undertaken directly spring began. Several families of
Eskimo were now residing near the encampment, the women mostly engaged
in making winter fur garments for the members of the expedition, and the
men in hunting. As dogs were required for the sledging expedition,
constant bartering went on between the Eskimo and the white men, and the
latter undertook occasional journeys to localities where other members
of the tribe were encamped.
A great deal of very interesting information was thus derived about the
natives, who are, as has been said, the most northerly living people in
the world. Mrs. Peary, as the first white woman they had ever seen, was
a particular object of attention. As their custom is for men and women
to dress very much alike, they could not quite understand Mrs. Peary's
costume, and when the first arrivals saw her and Lieutenant Peary
together, they looked from one to the other, and ultimately had to ask
which of the two was the white woman.
[Illustration: TWO NORTH GREENLAND HUNTERS.]
The tribe did not number 300 in all; they held no communication with the
Eskimo farther south, and, except for the occasional visit of a sealer
or a whaler, knew nothing of the outer world. None had ever seen a tree
growing, nor had they ever penetrated over the ridge of land which lay
back from the coast, and over which glimpses were caught of the great
ice-cap. The latter, they said, was where the Eskimo went when they
died, and if any man attempted to go so far the spirits would get hold
of him and keep him there. They consequently warned Lieutenant Peary
against venturing. There was no seal up there; no bear; no deer; only
ice and snow and spirits, so what reason had a man for going?
Their belongings were extremely simple. A kayak, a sledge, one or two
dogs, a tent made of walrus-hide or seal-skin, some weapons, and a stone
lamp, comprised, with the clothes they wore, their property. Wood was
the most valuable article they knew, because they could use it for so
many purposes, and had so little of it. The possession of knives and
needles was greatly desired; but scissors did not appeal to them, since
what they could not cut with a knife they could bite with their close
even teeth. Money had neither a suggestion nor a use with them; trade,
if carried on at all, was merely the bartering of one article for
another.
The animals they liked best were dogs and seals; the former being their
beast of burden and constant companion, the latter the provider of food,
raiment, covering, and light. Every seal killed belonged to the man who
killed it, but the rules of the tribe required that all larger animals
should be shared among the members in the neighbourhood; the skin of a
bear, however, remaining in the possession of the man who secured it.
But so unsophisticated and easy-going are the contented little people
that individual property scarcely exists with them; every one is ready
and willing to share what he has with another if need be. The articles
borrowed, however, are always returned, or made good if broken or lost.
No one can either read or write; the boys are taught how to hunt, how to
manage the kayak and sledge, and how to make and use the weapons of the
chase, while the girls are taught how to sew the fur garments, and keep
the stone lamp burning with blubber and moss, so as to prepare the
drinking water and the frizzled seal flesh they eat. For the rest, their
chief desire is to live as happily as they can, and this, according to
those who have been amongst them, they manage to do merrily and well.
During the visits paid to the different encampments by Lieutenant Peary
and his wife, about a score of dogs were obtained, a number which would
be sufficient to carry out the work of the ensuing spring. They were
usually obtained in exchange for needles and knives, but the purpose for
which they were needed always formed a subject of wonder to the
unambitious "huskies."
By the time that a return was made to the house--Redcliff, as the
explorers named it--the season was well advanced towards winter. The
roof and sides were all covered with walrus hide, and moss, gathered in
the early autumn, was stuffed into any crevice through which the cold
wind might find a way. The drifting snow soon piled up round the walls
and over the roof, and the extra covering added to the warmth and
comfort of those within. Fur clothing was now worn generally, and the
little party, keeping in good health and spirits, managed to pass the
gloomy period of winter without anything to mar their contentment.
Christmas they celebrated in proper form by having a sumptuous dinner,
the menu of which, preserved by Mrs. Peary, is worthy of being quoted,
as showing what can be done in a place where shops are unknown and
darkness reigns at midday. The feast consisted of salmon, rabbit pie and
green peas, venison with cranberry sauce, corn and tomatoes,
plum-pudding and brandy sauce, apricot pie, pears, sweets, nuts,
raisins, and coffee: a very creditable repast to be put on the table of
an Arctic residence.
When every one had satisfied the demands of appetite, the table was
cleared, and then re-spread for the benefit of the "huskies," who were
bidden to partake of Christmas fare. A somewhat different assortment was
prepared for the visitors, the dishes consisting of milk punch, venison
stew, cranberry tart, biscuits, sweets, raisins, and coffee. This was
certainly a variation to their ordinary food of seal or walrus flesh and
water, and they showed their appreciation of it by leaving no crumbs and
sticking to their seats until, at half-past ten, they were gently told
that it was time they went home. Then they left, but the next day they
came again, and were perhaps not the first who, having enjoyed a hearty
Christmas dinner, felt disposed to complain that Christmas can only come
once a year.
At the first approach of spring the dogs were given plenty of exercise
in the sledges, and by the middle of April all was ready for the great
journey over the ice-cap. Lieutenant Peary had quite recovered from the
injury to his leg, and was impatient to be off. The plan of operations
was for himself and a young Norwegian, named Astrup, to push on with one
sledge over the unknown interior, but for the first part of the journey
a supporting party and sledge accompanied them.
April 30 saw them start from the house towards the bluff range which ran
along the coast. The two sledges, each with a team of ten dogs, were
laden with supplies and scientific instruments. Mrs. Peary, who was
staying behind at the house, watched them slowly go out of sight, the
Eskimo women consoling her with the opinion that none of the party would
ever come back. The return of the supporting sledge a few weeks later
was rather a blow to the prophecy, but they tried to make up for the
first mistake by asserting their confidence that the other sledge was
doomed.
The two parties kept together until the coastal range was surmounted,
and the beginning of the ice-cap was reached. Here the sledge which was
to do the great journey was laden with a full load, and the two
explorers started forward, Lieutenant Peary leading the way with a staff
to which was attached a silk banner--the Stars and Stripes--worked by
Mrs. Peary.
The first of the ice-cap was a stretch of some fifteen miles of ice,
formed into enormous dome-shaped masses. They toiled up one side but
travelled easily down the other, and so on, up and down, until they had
attained an altitude of nearly 9000 feet above the sea-level, when they
found that they were on a vast expanse of snow. The white unbroken
surface stretched away as far as the eye could reach, unbroken by a
ridge or rise, everywhere flat, white and immense. This was the great
ice-cap, the frozen covering of the interior of Greenland, the unknown
region where no man had yet set foot.
But it was a mistake to term it an ice-cap. They found it to be rather a
desert, a Sahara with dry drifting snow instead of the dry burning sand.
And, like Sahara, it had its days of storm, when the snow whirled in
clouds just as the sand rises before the scorching blast of the simoom.
Very wonderful was the first experience of this Greenland dust-storm.
The sky overhead was filled with dull grey clouds, heavy and opaque, and
the gloom spread all around, so that whichever way one looked there was
the same impenetrable veil of grey gloomy haze. The snow lost its
dazzling whiteness and took instead the tint of the gloom of the
surrounding atmosphere. Then the wind came, at first in fitful gusts but
later growing into a steady blow, the opening squalls lifting the dry
surface snow and whirling it up in the air. The steady breeze caught it
and carried it along in a constantly moving stream some two feet deep,
and it was then that the effect of the storm was most pronounced. The
drifting particles of snow made a curious rustling noise as they moved,
and as they whirled round the travellers' legs the feet were hidden
beneath the dense moving veil. As a result, it was as though one were
walking on nothing and going nowhere, for the grey gloom all around made
one unconscious of either direction or space, and the moving snow
prevented one seeing the feet or realising that there was anything solid
under them.
The steady hum of the drifting snow, together with its movement, made
the brain dizzy, and the two explorers generally found it necessary to
form a camp when such a storm came on, the snow soon piling up against
their shelter tent and effectually protecting them from the wind. Then,
when the breeze had died away and the snow ceased moving, they were able
to dig out their sledge and proceed.
A distinct contrast to these stormy days was given by the period of
clear sunshine. Then the sky, innocent of a cloud, was a wonderful blue
vault overhead, while the snow-covered plateau stretched away on all
sides until it was lost in the distance of the horizon. The wonderfully
clear air enabled the explorers to see a great distance ahead. At the
end of the second day's march after reaching this great snow desert,
they found that the surface was gradually sloping north and south. They
were on the dividing ridge and, as they passed over on to the downward
slope, their progress was naturally at a more rapid rate. A storm, such
as has been described, accompanied by falling snow, overtook them, and
for three days they had to stay in their shelter. When at length the
weather moderated and they were able to get out again they discovered,
before resuming the journey, that the dogs meanwhile had eaten six
pounds of cranberry jam and the foot off one of the sleeping-bags--a
fairly good example of a dog's appetite during a snowstorm.
On May 31 in magnificently clear weather they looked out upon a scene on
which no white man had ever yet gazed. In his description of the journey
the leader wrote: "We looked down into the basin of the Petermann
Glacier, the greatest amphitheatre of snow and rugged ice that human eye
has ever seen." Away beyond it, a range of black mountains towered in
dome-shaped hills, and they made their camp with the expectation of
being able to see more of the distant range at the end of another march.
But by the time they were able to resume their march a thick fog had
come into the air, and for three days they could only see the snow at
their feet. They directed their course entirely by compass, but as they
were unable to see long distances ahead, they were unprepared for a
change in the surface. Before they could avoid it, they found themselves
amongst rough ice and open crevices. They were getting on to the Sherard
Osborne Glacier, and, in the misty weather they were experiencing, it
was difficult to get back on to the smooth ice again. Over a fortnight
was spent in getting beyond this rough ground, and at length, on the
weather clearing, they found that straight ahead of them a range of
hills showed along the horizon above the ice-cap. The appearance of the
hills directly in their path decided them to turn their course from due
east to south-east, and they were soon able to make out the line of a
deep channel running from the north-east to the south-west.
On July 1, after fifty-seven days of travel, they came to the limits of
the ice-cap and stood, silent and amazed, looking down from the summit
of the snow desert across a wide open plain covered with vegetation,
with here and there a snow drift showing white, and with herds of musk
oxen contentedly grazing over it. Such a discovery was absolutely so
unexpected that at first they could scarcely believe their eyes. There
was no sign of any human habitation on the land, and for all that could
be learned to the contrary, they were the first human beings who had
ever trodden upon that plain, on which the yellow Arctic poppies were
waving in bloom and over which the drone of the humble bee sounded,
though for hundreds of miles around it the accumulated snow of centuries
lay frozen into the great mysterious snow-cap and its glaciers.
Having proved that they really were not dreaming, they shot a musk ox,
which they used for their own and their dogs' refreshment. Then they
stacked their stores and set out with reduced loads across the plain.
They walked for four days, exploring, surveying, and examining; and on
the fourth of July, the anniversary of the Declaration of Independence
by the United States, they stood on the summit of a magnificent range of
cliffs, 3500 feet high, overlooking a large bay, which, in honour of the
date, they named Independence Bay.
The latitude was nearly 82 deg. N., and Lieutenant Peary, writing of the
discovery, says: "It was almost impossible for us to believe that we
were standing on the northern shore of Greenland as we gazed from the
summit of this precipitous cliff with the most brilliant sunshine all
about us, with yellow poppies growing between the rocks around our feet
and a herd of musk oxen in the valley behind us. In that valley we had
also found the dandelion in bloom and had heard the heavy drone and seen
the bullet-like flight of the humble bee."
For a week the two remained in this northern valley, surveying and
making observations and finding it difficult to believe that a distance
of 600 miles of frozen snow separated them from the nearest living
people. Not a vestige of a human habitation was found, and nothing to
show that man had ever been there before. At the end of the week, with a
good supply of fresh meat from the musk oxen and a collection of
specimens of plants and insects packed on the sledges, the return
journey was commenced. Both dogs and men were invigorated by the rest
they had had, and they were able to travel homewards at the rate of
thirty miles a day over the smooth surface of the ice-cap.
They carefully adhered to a recognised routine of work. When they had
travelled the regulation number of hours they halted for their rest. The
one whose turn it was to prepare the supper set to work to arrange what
they termed their kitchen, while the other attended to the dogs, feeding
them and removing them from their harness. The "kitchen" was constructed
by removing snow in blocks from a space eight feet long by three feet
wide by eighteen inches deep. The snow-blocks were built up along one
side and half another, so as to form an angle presented towards that
quarter from whence the wind was blowing. Over the top of this a canvas
was stretched, forming a well-sheltered nook, in which the spirit stove
was lighted and the meal prepared. For supper they had usually, half a
pound of pemmican (a preparation of finely chopped lean meat with
raisins and wheaten flour), one cup of preserved milk, tea, and
biscuits. The morning meal, or breakfast, consisted of pemmican,
biscuits, two ounces of butter, and two cups of tea, and after
travelling from four to six hours, they stopped for lunch, which
consisted of more pemmican and tea.
As soon as supper was ready the two enjoyed it together, and very soon
afterwards they crept into their sleeping-bags, the one who was acting
as cook having also to keep an eye on the dogs, in order to prevent them
making attacks on the stores. To obviate this, after the first few days,
the dogs were usually tethered for the night.
Occasionally, when the wind was favourable, sails were erected on the
sledges and the progress was then very easy and rapid; but when the wind
was from the opposite direction both dogs and men had an arduous task.
The return journey was accomplished with greater facility than the
outward trip, and on August 8, as they reached the top of one of the
dome-like formations near the coastal range, they saw, on the slope of
the next dome, a party of men approaching. The Kite had meantime
returned to Inglefield Gulf to take the expedition back to the United
States, and several of those who had come up in her set out to meet the
two explorers. By the time that the combined parties reached the shore,
every one was on board the _Kite_ waiting to welcome the two wanderers,
whose enterprise had terminated so successfully, not the least delighted
being Mrs. Peary, whose patience had been somewhat tried by the
persistent way in which the "huskies" had foretold disaster to her
husband. But all is well that ends well, and in his return, victorious,
the long lonely hours were forgotten.