gripped us and sapped the life from us. Ah-we-lah bent over his sled and
refused to move. I walked over and stood by his side. His dogs turned
and looked inquiringly at us. E-tuk-i-shook came near and stood
motionless, like a man in a trance, staring blankly at the southern
skies. Large tears fell from Ah-we-lah's eyes and froze in the blue of
his own shadow. Not a word was uttered. I knew that the dreaded time of
utter despair had come. The dogs looked at us, patient and silent in
their misery. Silently in the descending gloom we all looked over the
tremendous dead-white waste to the southward. With a tear-streaked and
withered face, Ah-we-lah slowly said, with a strangely shrilling wail,
"_Unne-sinig-po--Oo-ah-tonie i-o-doria--Ooh-ah-tonie i-o-doria!_" ("It
is well to die--Beyond is impossible--Beyond is impossible!")
[Illustration: "TOO WEARY TO BUILD IGLOOS WE USED THE SILK TENT"]
[Illustration: "ACROSS SEAS OF CRYSTAL GLORY TO THE BOREAL CENTRE"]
[Illustration: MENDING NEAR THE POLE]
TO THE POLE--THE LAST HUNDRED MILES
OVER PLAINS OF GOLD AND SEAS OF PALPITATING COLOR THE DOG TEAMS, WITH
NOSES DOWN, TAILS ERECT, DASH SPIRITEDLY LIKE CHARIOT HORSES--CHANTING
LOVE SONGS THE ESKIMOS FOLLOW WITH SWINGING STEP--TIRED EYES OPEN TO NEW
GLORY--STEP BY STEP, WITH THUMPING HEARTS THE EARTH'S APEX IS NEARED--AT
LAST! THE GOAL IS REACHED! THE STARS AND STRIPES ARE FLUNG TO THE FRIGID
BREEZES OF THE NORTH POLE!
XIX
BOREAL CENTER IS PIERCED
I shall never forget that dismal hour. I shall never forget that
desolate drab scene about us--those endless stretches of gray and
dead-white ice, that drab dull sky, that thickening blackness in the
west which entered into and made gray and black our souls, that ominous,
eerie and dreadful wind, betokening a terrorizing Arctic storm. I shall
never forget the mournful group before me, in itself an awful picture of
despair, of man's ambition failing just as victory is within his grasp.
Ah-we-lah, a thin, half-starved figure in worn furs, lay over his sled,
limp, dispirited, broken. In my ears I can now hear his low sobbing
words, I can see the tears on his yellow fissured face. I can see
E-tuk-i-shook standing gaunt and grim, and as he gazed yearningly onward
to the south, sighing pitifully, shudderingly for the home, the loved
one, An-na-do-a, left behind, whom, I could tell, he did not expect to
see again.
It was a critical moment. Up to this time, during the second week of
April, we had, by intense mental force, goaded our wearied legs onward
to the limit of endurance. With a cutting wind in our faces, feeling
with each step the cold more severely to the marrow of our bones, with
our bodily energy and our bodily heat decreasing, we had traveled
persistently, suffering intolerable pains with every breath. Despite
increasing despair, I had cheered my companions as best I could; I had
impressed upon them the constant nearing of my goal. I had encouraged in
them the belief of nearness of land; each day I had gone on, fearing
what had now come, the utter breaking of their spirits.
"_Unne-sinikpo-ashuka._" (Yes, it is well to die.)
"_Awonga-up-dow-epuksha!_" (Yesterday I, too, felt that way), I said to
myself. The sudden extinction of consciousness, I thought, might be
indeed a blessed relief. But as long as life persisted, as long as human
endurance could be strained, I determined to continue. Desperate as was
my condition, and suffering hellish tortures, the sight of the despair
of my companions re-aroused me. Should we fail now, after our long
endurance, now, when the goal was so near?
The Pole was only one hundred miles beyond. The attainment seemed almost
certain.
"_Accou-ou-o-toni-ah-younguluk_" (Beyond to-morrow it will be better),
I urged, trying to essay a smile. "_Igluctoo!_" (Cheer up!)
Holding up one hand, with a reach Poleward, bending five fingers, one
after the other, I tried to convey the idea that in five sleeps the "Big
Nail" would be reached, and that then we would turn (pointing with my
fingers) homeward.
"_Noona-me-neulia-capa--ahmisua_" (For home, sweethearts and food in
abundance), I said.
"_Noona-terronga, neuliarongita, ootah--peterongito_" (Land is gone;
loved ones are lost; signs of life have vanished).
"_Tig-i-lay-waongacedla--nellu ikah-amisua_" (Return will I, the sky and
weather I do not understand. It is very cold), said Ah-we-lah.
"_Attuda-emongwah-ka_" (A little farther come), I pleaded.
"_Attudu-mikisungwah_" (Only a little further).
"_Sukinut-nellu_" (The sun I do not understand), said E-tuk-i-shook.
This had been a daily complaint for some days--the approaching equality
of the length of shadows for night and day puzzled them. The failing
night dip of the sun left them without a guiding line to give direction.
They were lost in a landless, spiritless world, in which the sky, the
weather, the sun and all was a mystery.
I knew my companions were brave. I was certain of their fidelity. Could
their mental despair be alleviated, I felt convinced they could brace
themselves for another effort. I spoke kindly to them; I told them what
we had accomplished, that they were good and brave, that their parents
and their sweethearts would be proud of them, and that as a matter of
honor we must not now fail.
"_Tigishu-conitu_," I said. (The Pole is near.)
"_Sinipa tedliman dossa-ooahtonie tomongma ah youngulok tigilay toy
hoy._" (At the end of five sleeps it is finished, beyond all is well, we
return thereafter quickly.)
"_Seko shudi iokpok. Sounah ha-ah!_" they replied. (On ice always is not
good. The bones ache.)
Then I said, "The ice is flat, the snow is good, the sky is clear, the
Great Spirit is with us, the Pole is near!"
Ah-we-lah dully nodded his head. I noticed, however, he wiped his eyes.
"_Ka-bishuckto-emongwah_" (Come walk a little further), I went on.
"_Accou ooahtoni-ahningahna-matluk-tigilay-Inut-noona._" (Beyond
to-morrow within two moons we return to Eskimo lands.)
"_K i s a h iglucto-tima-attahta-annona-neuliasing-wah_," said
Ah-we-lah. (At last, then it is to laugh! There we will meet father
and mother and little wives!)
"_Ashuka-alningahna-matluk_," I returned. (Yes, in two moons there will
be water and meat and all in plenty.)
E-tuk-i-shook gazed at me intently. His eyes brightened.
As I spoke my own spirits rose to the final effort, my lassitude gave
way to a new enthusiasm. I felt the fire kindling for many years aglow
within me. The goal was near; there remained but one step to the apex of
my ambition. I spoke hurriedly. The two sat up and listened. Slowly they
became inspired with my intoxication. Never did I speak so vehemently.
E-tuk-i-shook gripped his whip. "_Ka, aga_" (Come, go!) he said.
Ah-we-lah, determined but grim, braced his body and shouted to the
dogs--"_Huk, Huk, Huk_," and then to us he said, "_Aga-Ka!_" (Go-come).
With snapping whip we were off for that last hundred miles.
The animals pricked their ears, re-curled their tails, and pulled at the
traces. Shouting to keep up the forced enthusiasm, we bounded forward on
the last lap. A sort of wild gratification filled my heart. I knew that
only mental enthusiasm would now prevent the defeat which might yet come
from our own bodies refusing to go farther. Brain must now drive muscle.
Fortunately the sense of final victory imparted a supernormal mental
stimulus.
Gray ice hummocks sped by us. My feet were so tired that I seemed to
walk on air. My body was so light from weakness that I suppose I should
hardly have been surprised had I floated upward from the ice in a gust
of wind. I felt the blood moving in my veins and stinging like needles
in my joints as one does when suffering with neurasthenia. I swung my
axe. The whip of my companions cut the air. The dogs leaped over the
ice, with crunching progress they pulled themselves over hummocks much
as cats climb trees. Distance continued to fade behind us.
On April 14, my observations gave latitude, 88 deg. 21'; longitude, 95 deg.
52'. The wind came with a satanic cut from the west. There had been
little drift. But with a feeling of chagrin I saw that the ice before us
displayed signs of recent activity. It was more irregular, with open
cracks here and there. These we had to avoid, but the sleds glided with
less friction, and the weary dogs maintained a better speed.
With set teeth and newly sharpened resolutions, we continued mile after
mile of that last one hundred. More dogs had gone into the stomachs of
their hungry companions, but there still remained a sufficient pull of
well-tried brute force for each sled. Although their noisy vigor had
been gradually lost in the long drag, they still broke the frigid
silence with an occasional outburst of howls. Any fresh enthusiasm from
the drivers was quickly responded to by canine activity.
* * * * *
We were in good trim to cover distance economically. Our sledges were
light, our bodies were thin. We had lost, since leaving winter camp,
judging from appearances, from twenty-five to forty pounds each. All our
muscles had shriveled. The dogs retained strength that was amazing.
Stripped for the last lap, one horizon after another was lifted.
=From original field papers.--Observations of April 14, 1908.=
Long. 95-52. Bar. 29.90 Falling. Temp. -44 deg.. Clouds Cu. St. & Alt.
St. 4. Wind 1-3. Mag. E.
Noon 0....... = 22--02--05
96 ===
4 0....... = 22--56--20
+-------- +-----------
60 | 384 2 | 44--58--25
+-------- +-----------
6-24 22--29--12
+2
+-----------
54 2 | 22--31--12
61/2 +-----------
------- 11--15--36
27 --9
324 -----------
+------- 11-- 6--36
60 | 351 90
+------- -----------
5--51 78--53--24
9--21--50 9--27--41
----------- -----------
9--27--41 88--21-- 5
Shadow 301/2 ft. (of tent pole 6 ft. above snow.)
In the forced effort which followed we frequently became overheated. The
temperature was steady at 44 deg. below zero, Fahrenheit. Perspiration came
with ease, and with a certain amount of pleasure. Later followed a train
of suffering for many days. The delight of the birdskin shirt gave place
to the chill of a wet blanket. Our coats and trousers hardened to icy
suits of armor. It became quite impossible to dress after a sleep
without softening the stiffened furs with the heat of our bare skin.
Mittens, boots and fur stockings became quite useless until dried out.
Fortunately, at this time the rays of the sun were warm enough to dry
the furs in about three days, if lashed to the sunny side of a sled as
we marched along, and strangely enough, the furs dried out without
apparent thawing. In these last days we felt more keenly the pangs of
perspiration than in all our earlier adventures. We persistently used
the amber-colored goggles. They afforded protection to the eyes, but in
spite of every precaution, our distorted, frozen, burned and withered
faces lined a map in relief, of the hardships endured en route.
We were curious looking savages. The perpetual glitter of the snows
induced a squint of our eyes which distorted our faces in a remarkable
manner. The strong light reflected from the crystal surface threw the
muscles about the eyes into a state of chronic contraction. The iris was
reduced to a mere pin-hole.
The strong winds and drifting snows necessitated the habit of peeping
out of the corners of the eyes. Nature, in attempting to keep the ball
from hardening, flushed it at all times with blood. To keep the seeing
windows of the mind open required a constant exertion of will power. The
effect was a set of expressions of hardship and wrinkles which might be
called the boreal squint.
This boreal squint is a part of the russet-bronze physiognomy which
falls to the lot of every Arctic explorer. The early winds, with a
piercing temperature, start a flush of scarlet, while frequent
frostbites leave figures in black. Later the burning sun browns the
skin; subsequently, strong winds sap the moisture, harden the skin and
leave open fissures on the face. The human face takes upon itself the
texture and configuration of the desolate, wind-driven world upon which
it looks.
Hard work and reduced nourishment contract the muscles, dispel the fat
and leave the skin to shrivel in folds. The imprint of the goggles, the
set expression of hard times, and the mental blank of the environment
remove all spiritual animation. Our faces assumed the color and lines of
old, withering, russet apples, and would easily pass for the mummied
countenances of the prehistoric progenitors of man.
In enforced efforts to spread out our stiffened legs over the last
reaches, there was left no longer sufficient energy at camping times to
erect snow shelters. Our silk tent was pressed into use. Although the
temperature was still very low, the congenial rays pierced the silk
fabric and rested softly on our eye lids closed in heavy slumber. In
strong winds it was still necessary to erect a sheltering wall, whereby
to shield the tent.
As we progressed over the last one hundred mile-step, my mind was
divested of its lethargy. Unconsciously I braced myself. My senses
became more keen. With a careful scrutiny I now observed the phenomena
of the strange world into which fortune had pressed us--first of all
men.
Step by step, I invaded a world untrodden and unknown. Dulled as I was
by hardship, I thrilled with the sense of the explorer in new lands,
with the thrill of discovery and conquest. "Then," as Keats says, "felt
I like some watcher of the skies, when a new planet swims into his ken."
In this land of ice I was master, I was sole invader. I strode forward
with an undaunted glory in my soul.
Signs of land, which I encouraged my companions to believe were real,
were still seen every day, but I knew, of course, they were deceptive.
It now seemed to me that something unusual must happen, that some line
must cross our horizon to mark the important area into which we were
passing.
Through vapor-charged air of crystal, my eyes ran over plains moving in
brilliant waves of running colors toward dancing horizons. Mirages
turned things topsy-turvy. Inverted lands and queer objects ever rose
and fell, shrouded in mystery. All of this was due to the atmospheric
magic of the continued glory of midnight suns in throwing piercing beams
of light through superimposed strata of air of varying temperature and
density.
Daily, by careful measurements, I found that our night shadows shortened
and became more uniform during the passing hours of the day, as the
shadow dial was marked.
With a lucky series of astronomical observations our position was fixed
for each stage of progress.
Nearing the Pole, my imagination quickened. A restless, almost
hysterical excitement came over all of us. My boys fancied they saw
bears and seals. I had new lands under observation frequently, but with
a change in the direction of light the horizon cleared. We became more
and more eager to push further into the mystery. Climbing the long
ladder of latitudes, there was always the feeling that each hour's work
was bringing us nearer the Pole--the Pole which men had sought for three
centuries, and which, fortune favoring, should be mine!
Yet, I was often so physically tired that my mind was, when the
momentary intoxications passed, in a sense, dulled. But the habit of
seeing and of noting what I had seen, had been acquired. The habit, yes,
of putting one foot in front of the other, mile after mile, through the
wild dreariness of ice, the habit of observing, even though with aching,
blurred eyes, and noting, methodically, however wearily, what the tired
eyes had seen.
From the eighty-eighth to the eighty-ninth parallel the ice lay in large
fields, the surface was less irregular than formerly. In other respects
it was about the same as below the eighty-seventh. I observed here also,
an increasing extension of the range of vision. I seemed to scan longer
distances, and the ice along the horizon had a less angular outline. The
color of the sky and the ice changed to deeper purple-blues. I had no
way of checking these impressions by other observations; the eagerness
to find something unusual may have fired my imagination, but since the
earth is flattened at the Pole, perhaps a widened horizon would
naturally be detected there.
At eight o'clock on the morning of April 19, we camped on a picturesque
old field, with convenient hummocks, to the top of which we could easily
rise for the frequent outlook which we now maintained. We pitched our
tent, and silenced the dogs by blocks of pemmican. New enthusiasm was
aroused by a liberal pot of pea-soup and a few chips of frozen meat.
Then we bathed in life-giving sunbeams, screened from the piercing air
by the strands of the silk-walled tent.
The day was beautiful. Had our sense of appreciation not been blunted by
accumulated fatigue we should have greatly enjoyed the play of light and
color in the ever-changing scene of sparkle. But in our condition it was
but an inducement to keep the eyes open and to prolong interest long
enough to dispel the growing complaint of aching muscles.
Ah-we-lah and E-tuk-i-shook were soon lost in profound sleep, the only
comfort in their hard lives. I remained awake, as had been my habit for
many preceding days, to get nautical observations. My longitude
calculations lined us at 94 deg. 3'. At noon the sun's altitude was
carefully set on the sextant, and the latitude, quickly reduced, gave
89 deg. 31'. The drift had carried us too far east, but our advance was
encouraging.
I put down the instrument, wrote the reckonings in my book. Then I
gazed, with a sort of fascination, at the figures. My heart began to
thump wildly. Slowly my brain whirled with exultation. I arose jubilant.
We were only 29 miles from the North Pole!
I suppose I created quite a commotion about the little camp.
E-tuk-i-shook, aroused by the noise, awoke and rubbed his eyes. I told
him that in two average marches we should reach the "_tigi-shu_"--the
big nail. He sprang to his feet and shouted with joy. He kicked
Ah-we-lah, none too gently, and told him the glad news.
Together they went out to a hummock, and through glasses, sought for a
mark to locate so important a place as the terrestrial axis! If but one
sleep ahead, it must be visible! So they told me, and I laughed. The
sensation of laughing was novel. At first I was quite startled. I had
not laughed for many days. Their idea was amusing, but it was eminently
sensible from their standpoint and knowledge.
I tried to explain to them that the Pole is not visible to the eye, and
that its position is located only by a repeated use of the various
instruments. Although this was quite beyond their comprehension the
explanation entirely satisfied their curiosity. They burst out in
hurrahs of joy. For two hours they chanted, danced and shouted the
passions of wild life. Their joy, however, was in the thought of a
speedy turning back homeward, I surmised.
This, however, was the first real sign of pleasure or rational emotion
which they had shown for several weeks. For some time I had entertained
the fear that we no longer possessed strength to return to land. This
unbridled flow of vigor dispelled that idea. My heart throbbed with
gladness. A font of new strength seemed to gush forth within me.
Considering through what we had gone, I now marvel at the reserve forces
latent in us, and I sometimes feel that I should write, not of human
weakness, but a new gospel of human strength.
With the Pole only twenty-nine miles distant, more sleep was quite
impossible. We brewed an extra pot of tea, prepared a favorite broth of
pemmican, dug up a surprise of fancy biscuits and filled up on good
things to the limit of the allowance for our final feast days. The dogs,
which had joined the chorus of gladness, were given an extra lump of
pemmican. A few hours more were agreeably spent in the tent. Then we
started out with new spirit for the uttermost goal of our world.
Bounding joyously forward, with a stimulated mind, I reviewed the
journey. Obstacle after obstacle had been overcome. Each battle won gave
a spiritual thrill, and courage to scale the next barrier. Thus had been
ever, and was still, in the unequal struggles between human and
inanimate nature, an incentive to go onward, ever onward, up the
stepping-stones to ultimate success. And now, after a life-denying
struggle in a world where every element of Nature is against the life
and progress of man, triumph came with steadily measured reaches of
fifteen miles a day!
We were excited to fever heat. Our feet were light on the run. Even the
dogs caught the infectious enthusiasm. They rushed along at a pace which
made it difficult for me to keep a sufficient advance to set a good
course. The horizon was still eagerly searched for something to mark the
approaching boreal center. But nothing unusual was seen. The same
expanse of moving seas of ice, on which we had gazed for five hundred
miles, swam about us as we drove onward.
Looking through gladdened eyes, the scene assumed a new glory. Dull blue
and purple expanses were transfigured into plains of gold, in which
were lakes of sapphire and rivulets of ruby fire. Engirdling this world
were purple mountains with gilded crests. It was one of the few days on
the stormy pack when all Nature smiled with cheering lights.
As the day advanced beyond midnight and the splendor of the summer night
ran into a clearer continued day, the beams of gold on the surface snows
assumed a more burning intensity. Shadows of hummocks and ice ridges
became dyed with a deeper purple, and in the burning orange world loomed
before us Titan shapes, regal and regally robed.
From my position, a few hundred yards ahead of the sleds, with compass
and axe in hand, as usual, I could not resist the temptation to turn
frequently to see the movement of the dog train with its new fire. In
this backward direction the color scheme was reversed. About the horizon
the icy walls gleamed like beaten gold set with gem-spots of burning
colors; the plains represented every shade of purple and blue, and over
them, like vast angel wings outspread, shifted golden pinions. Through
the sea of palpitating color, the dogs came, with spirited tread, noses
down, tails erect and shoulders braced to the straps, like chariot
horses. In the magnifying light they seemed many times their normal
size. The young Eskimos, chanting songs of love, followed with easy,
swinging steps. The long whip was swung with a brisk crack. Over all
arose a cloud of frosted breath, which, like incense smoke, became
silvered in the light, a certain signal of efficient motive power.
With our destination reachable over smooth ice, in these brighter days
of easier travel our long chilled blood was stirred to double action,
our eyes opened to beauty and color, and a normal appreciation of the
wonders of this new strange and wonderful world.
As we lifted the midnight's sun to the plane of the midday sun, the
shifting Polar desert became floored with a sparkling sheen of millions
of diamonds, through which we fought a way to ulterior and greater
glory.
Our leg cramps eased and our languid feet lifted buoyantly from the
steady drag as the soul arose to effervescence. Fields of rich purple,
lined with running liquid gold, burning with flashes of iridescent
colors, gave a sense of gladness long absent from our weary life. The
ice was much better. We still forced a way over large fields, small
pressure areas and narrow leads. But, when success is in sight, most
troubles seem lighter. We were thin, with faces burned, withered, frozen
and torn in fissures, with clothes ugly from overwear. Yet men never
felt more proud than we did, as we militantly strode off the last steps
to the world's very top!
Camp was pitched early in the morning of April 20. The sun was
northeast, the pack glowed in tones of lilac, the normal westerly air
brushed our frosty faces. Our surprising burst on enthusiasm had been
nursed to its limits. Under it a long march had been made over average
ice, with the usual result of overpowering fatigue. Too tired and sleepy
to wait for a cup of tea, we poured melted snow into our stomach and
pounded the pemmican with an axe to ease the task of the jaws. Our eyes
closed before the meal was finished, and the world was lost to us for
eight hours. Waking, I took observations which gave latitude 89 deg. 46'.
Late at night, after another long rest, we hitched the dogs and loaded
the sleds. When action began, the feeling came that no time must be
lost. Feverish impatience seized me.
Cracking our whips, we bounded ahead. The boys sang. The dogs howled.
Midnight of April 21 had just passed.