citizens gathered immediately around the bold explorer, who, with his
companions, was given a royal welcome home. This was as it should have
been, for Peary was the only man who had really stood upon the very top
of this sphere upon which we live.
[Illustration:
_Copyright by Harris and Ewing._
ROBERT EDWIN PEARY]
Robert Edwin Peary, who “nailed the Stars and Stripes to the North
Pole,” was born in Cresson, Pennsylvania, May 6th., 1856. When still a
mere lad he moved to Portland, Maine, and, after studying in private
schools and an academy in North Bridgton, Maine, he entered Bowdoin
College, graduating in 1877. He now became a draughtsman in the U. S.
Coast and Geodetic Survey, then passed a stiff examination and entered
the United States Navy as a Civil Engineer, ranking as a Lieutenant.
In 1884, or three years later, he was an assistant government engineer
in the surveys for the proposed route for the Nicaragua Canal,
inventing several rolling locks for the use of the workmen. He became
engineer-in-chief of the Nicaragua Survey.
About this time he began to have ideas connected with the search for
the North Pole, and, obtaining a short leave of absence, made a trip
into Greenland, accompanied by a Dane called Margaard. A faithful
negro, named Matthew Henson, who had served with him in Nicaragua,
followed him to the Arctic on this trip, and continued to be with him
upon all his subsequent expeditions.
Upon his return to civilization, the explorer immediately began to
spend his spare time in preparing for another expedition to the north.
He married, meanwhile, Miss Josephine Diebitsch whom he had met in
Maine when a young man.
In 1891-92 he again made a trip into the frozen fastnesses of the
polar region, which was financed by the Academy of Natural Sciences in
Philadelphia. The Expedition was thoroughly organized before the men
started north, and supplies were left at convenient points, so that
starvation would not kill off the adventurers as it had done to so many
other explorers.
Establishing headquarters at McCormick Bay, on the western coast
of Greenland, Peary and his men made sledge excursions along Whale
Sound, Inglefield Gulf, and Humboldt Glacier, proving that the coasts
of Greenland converged at the northern portion, doubtless forming an
island of what was thought to be a peninsula. Although his leg was
broken when crossing Melville Bay, the brave explorer persisted in
his work, and returned in September, 1892, with a brilliant record of
results accomplished.
With one companion, Astrup, he had ascended to the summit of the great
ice cap which covers the interior of Greenland, 5,000 to 8,000 feet
in elevation, and had pushed northward for 500 miles over a region
where no white man had ever been before. The temperature was from 10
degrees to 50 degrees below zero. On July 4th., 1892, he discovered
Independence Bay, and found a valley nearby, which was radiant with
gorgeous flowers and was alive with murmuring bees. Here also were many
musk-oxen, browsing lazily upon the long, rank grasses.
The explorer now determined to spend his life in an attempt to reach
the Pole, which lay 396 geographical miles farther north than any man
had yet penetrated on the western hemisphere. He was convinced that
the only way to eventually reach his goal was by adopting the manner of
life, the food, the snowhouses, and the clothing of the Eskimos, who
had learned how to combat the rigors of Arctic weather by centuries
of experience. He must also utilize the game of the northland, the
walrus, the musk-oxen, and the reindeer, in order to keep his men in
fit condition and of good temper when the long winter night came upon
them. Lastly he must train the Eskimos so that they should become his
sledging crew.
The first north polar expedition lasted for four years, from 1898 to
1902, and Peary failed to get nearer than 343 miles of the Pole. Each
year dense packs of ice blocked his passage to the polar ocean and he
was compelled to make his base 700 miles from the Pole, or 200 miles
south of the headquarters of Nares, from which point he could reach
the Pole in one season. But during this period, he explored and mapped
hundreds of miles of the coastline of Greenland and of the islands to
the west and north.
The navigator and explorer now designed and constructed the
_Roosevelt_, a boat built to withstand the crush of the masses of ice,
and with this he battled a way to the desired haven upon the shores of
the polar sea. From this place he made a wonderful march to the point
87° 6´, or nearer to the Pole than any man had ever been. He would have
reached the Pole, this time, but winds of excessive fury opened great
leads and robbed him of the prize and nearly of his own life. This was
in 1906.
Commander Peary was now resolved to make his next advance upon the Pole
by the same route as he had just used. His previous efforts had been
financed by Mr. Morris K. Jessup, whose interest in Polar explorations,
and faith in Peary, made him willing at all times to furnish whatever
money the Commander required. But the kind Mr. Jessup was now dead and
the explorer knew that he would have a difficult time to raise the
funds to equip another expedition.
Commander Peary had established a training school for the Eskimos
and their dogs at Etah, and he now learned of the departure of Dr.
Frederick A. Cook, who had served with him upon a previous expedition,
and Mr. John R. Bradley, a noted sportsman, to this point. He knew that
these men might use his Eskimo friends, with their dogs, for a “dash”
to the Pole, while he was held behind a prisoner in New York, because
of the lack of funds. Yet, what could he do without the money?
The _Roosevelt_ was in bad shape and needed overhauling. She was built
in Maine by the Peary Arctic Club for the expedition of 1905 and was
designed by the explorer himself. She was a three-masted, fore-and-aft
schooner-rigged steamship, built entirely of white oak with treble
frames close together, double planked. Her walls were 24 to 30 inches
thick. Her heavy bow was backed by 12 feet of solid deadwood. Her keel
was 16 inches thick and was reënforced with false keels and a keelson.
Her stern, reënforced by iron, had a long overhang to protect the
rudder from the ice, and the rudder itself was so arranged that it
could be lifted out of the water, when jammed or entangled.
It was out of the question to go in 1907, but, by the next season a
great deal of work had been done and sufficient funds had been secured
to make the good, old ship strong and ready again, and to fill her with
necessary stores. A crew was secured, presents for the Eskimos were
on board, and material for sledges, dog harness, guns, ammunition,
and scientific instruments. The ship’s sides were strengthened, her
machinery was made as good as new, and so, at last, she steamed up the
East River, outward bound.
On July 7th., 1908, she stopped near Sagamore Hill, Long Island, the
home of the then President Roosevelt, and the chief Executive grasped
the explorer by the hand, bidding him: “Good luck and God speed!”
The voyager replied that he had never before felt so confident of
winning the Pole and would reach it, this time, or “bust.”
Mr. Roosevelt laughed and waved “good-bye,” as the staunch craft, which
bore his name, plowed forth into the Atlantic.
Reaching Etah in safety, a number of Eskimos were taken on board, and,
pointing her nose toward the north, the _Roosevelt_ disappeared into
a murky fog. A ship called the Erik was nearby, and soon returned to
civilization with the last words from Peary and his men. This was in
August, 1908.
Meanwhile, the _Roosevelt_ was steadily pushed northward, through the
defiles of Kennedy and Robeson channels, where the moving ice opened
here and there and allowed the vessel to steal between the floes. Three
weeks later the Arctic Ocean came in sight. Entering it, the steamer
was turned to the left and was pushed along the coast as rapidly as
could be done against the ice pack. Commander Peary meant, if possible,
to reach Cape Columbia, a headland well to the west and on the north
coast of Grant Land. Yet he could not do this, for the ice, which
pressed against the promontory of Cape Sheridan, shut off any progress
beyond that point. Thus, on the first day of September, the _Roosevelt_
was laid to in a snug harbor under the protection of Cape Sheridan, and
the crew went into winter quarters.
The men amused themselves hunting polar bears, musk-oxen, and caribou
during the long months which had to be passed before the “dash” could
be attempted. The continuous night at length wore itself to a close,
and, in February, the first gray light of the approaching Arctic dawn
began to dispel the darkness.
Upon the fifteenth of that month, 1909, a sledging expedition left
the ship in the direction of Cape Columbia, which was to be the base
camp in the “dash” for the goal of Peary’s ambition. This overland
trip consumed a fortnight, Cape Columbia being reached on March 1st.
Here the adventurers were 420 miles from the North Pole in a straight
line, and, with parties to support him and leave food, the daring Peary
now started towards the top of the earth. In order to get away from
open water he had gone far westward in the effort to avoid the usual
eastward drift of the polar ice and open water, which would defeat his
efforts.
At last he was off. Open leads—cracks in the ice filled with
water—delayed him greatly during the first ten days of the expedition,
so that by March the eleventh the party had only reached the 84th.
parallel. He kept on, found the ice more even, and by the seventeenth,
had reached the eighty-sixth. On the twenty-third of that month he
outdistanced the best record of a Norwegian, that of Nansen. Here his
last supporting party was sent back, the leader of which, Professor
Ross G. Marvin of Cornell University, lost his life by drowning in an
open lead, April the tenth.
The chosen few, gaunt, hollow-eyed, and energetic, pressed towards
their goal, and, on March the 24th., the best Italian record was
distanced. On, on, they crept over the ice-pack, the dogs trotting
along briskly, and pulling the little sledges slowly but surely towards
the apex of the earth. Living on pemmican (dried meat, sugar, and
raisins) and tea, the leader and his companions kept up both their
strength and their spirits. On March 27th., the 87th. parallel was
passed, and on the 28th. Peary’s own record of “farthest north” was
distanced. The goal was near and confidence increased with every mile
of the advance.
When traveling in this region, heretofore, the gallant explorer had
been often hindered by leads of open water and massive hummocks of
ice. Fate was now propitious and the ice seemed to be more flat and
solid than Peary had ever experienced before. On April 2nd., the 88th.
parallel was crossed. Two days later the 89th. parallel was left
behind, and in two days more, on April the sixth, the little party
reached the center of the northern hemisphere, and Commander Peary
stood at the North Pole. Hurray! Hurray! The goal had been reached!
With the explorer were four trusted Eskimos and the negro Henson, who
had been with him on every expedition. The Eskimos were Ooqueah, Ootah,
Seeglo, and Egingwah. Each of them placed a different flag upon an ice
cap at the uttermost end of the earth. These were the banners of the
Navy League, the D. K. E. Fraternity, the Red Cross Flag, the D. A. R.
Peace Flag, and the flag of the United States carried by the explorer
for fifteen years. All cheered for the Pole and for the flag, and then
had a right merry feast upon the very apex of the earth. No ice was
needed in the water which they drank!
The explorer had been so exhausted when he arrived at the Pole that he
had to seek a few hours’ sleep. Then he arose and wrote the following
words in his diary:
“The Pole at last. The prize of three centuries. My dream and goal for
twenty years. Mine at last! I cannot bring myself to realize it. It
seems all so simple and commonplace!”
Yet, here he was, and he shook hands with all the Eskimos, who seemed
to be childishly pleased at the feat which they had accomplished. Again
they gave “three times three,” with a vim, for the North Pole.
The Commander had good reason to be delighted, for, as he says: “For
more than a score of years that point on the earth’s surface had been
the object of my every effort. To its attainment my whole being,
physical, mental and moral, had been dedicated. Many times my own life
and the lives of those with me had been risked. My own material and
forces and those of my friends had been devoted to this object. This
journey was my eighth into the Arctic wilderness. In that wilderness
I had spent nearly twelve years out of the twenty-three between my
thirtieth and my fifty-third year, and the intervening time spent in
civilized communities during that period had been mainly occupied with
preparations for returning to the wilderness. The determination to
reach the Pole had become so much a part of my being, that, strange
as it may seem, I long ago ceased to think of myself, save as an
instrument for the attainment of that end. To the layman this may seem
strange, but an inventor can understand it, or an artist, or any one
who has devoted himself for years upon years to the service of an idea.”
At about four o’clock on the afternoon of April 7th., the explorers
turned their backs on the Pole, leaving with a sense of sadness, for
this was certainly a scene which their “eye would never see again.” The
journey home was fraught with danger. Would they make it?
The extraordinary speed which they had made in reaching the Pole was
exceeded in the journey home. In sixteen days Cape Columbia had been
reached, for the dogs were good ones, and they averaged twenty-six
miles of travel a day. On April the 23rd., Peary entered his “igloo,”
or ice-house, at “Crane City,” Cape Columbia.
In one march of forty-five miles, Cape Hecla was reached, and the
_Roosevelt_ in another of equal length. The Commander’s heart thrilled,
as, rounding the point of the cape, he saw the little black ship lying
there in her icy berth, with her sturdy nose pointing straight to the
Pole. His dreadful trip was over and Victory perched upon the masts of
the intrepid vessel.
The ship was soon made ready for the homeward voyage. In ten days’ time
she was prepared to sail, and, on July 18th., with only the tragic
memory of the lost and lamented Marvin to lessen the high spirits of
all, the _Roosevelt_ pulled slowly out from the cape and turned her
nose again to the south. On September 25th., she steamed into Indian
Harbor, in Labrador, and the first dispatch went on the wires: “Have
made good at last, I have the Pole.”
Yet, much of the glory of Peary’s Arctic discovery had been spoiled by
Dr. Frederick A. Cook, an impostor, who had come from the north, some
months before, had stated that he had reached the Pole, and had spread
the news broadcast over the civilized world. Many had believed him,
and he was given receptions, balls, the freedom of cities, until his
records were found to be worthless and his story finally discredited.
His advent into the arena at this time was most unfortunate for the
gallant Peary, to whom belongs all the glory and honor which is due a
brave man who did a big deed.
The _Roosevelt_ at last reached the little town of Sydney, Cape Breton,
where Mrs. Peary and the children were to meet the explorer. As the
vessel neared the city, the entire water-front was alive with people.
The seaport to which the adventurous navigator had returned so many
times, unsuccessful, gave him a royal welcome as the _Roosevelt_
steamed into view, flying at her masthead a flag which had never before
entered any port in history,—the North Pole flag.
The success of the expedition was due to the experience, the courage,
endurance, and devotion of its members, who put all that there was in
them into the work; and to the unswerving faith and loyalty of the
Peary Arctic Club, which furnished the funds without which nothing
could have been accomplished. Again, THREE CHEERS FOR PEARY! He is a
hero of whom all may be proud.
THE MISTY MAID
Away up North, in the frozen sea, where the booby walrus breed,
There lives a Maid, dressed all in white, who rides a snowy steed.
Her eyes are blue and her tresses gold, she has cheeks of a crimson
stain,
On her head a helmet of dazzling hue, on her bosom a breastplate
plain.
_Oh! hear the penguins laffin, saying, “Baffin! Baffin! Baffin!”_
_Oh! Hear the penguins laffin, while the cutting blizzards sigh,_
_Oh! Hear the penguins laffin, saying, “Baffin! Baffin! Baffin!”_
_The little penguins all bob low as the Misty Maid goes by._
She’s seen the trail of Nansen, and she’s hovered o’er Peary’s head,
She’s cried at the fate of Hudson, at the boat of a hundred dead,
She’s watched the fires of Davis, she’s fastened the anchors of Kane,
And she’s been near the tents of Franklin, by the icy wind-ripped
lane.
_Oh! hear the penguins laffin, saying, “Baffin! Baffin! Baffin!”_
_Oh! Hear the penguins laffin, while the cutting blizzards sigh,_
_Oh! Hear the penguins laffin, saying, “Baffin! Baffin! Baffin!”_
_The little penguins all bob low as the Misty Maid goes by._
Yes, the Maid is a Maid of sorrow, her cheeks with tears are dim;
For the skeletons of a thousand men she’s seen on the North Pole rim.
As she prances on her snow white steed she beckons to stay away,
For her home is a home of frozen death—yea! pain and death alway.
_But hear the penguins laffin, saying, “Baffin! Baffin! Baffin!”_
_The penguins still are laffin while the cutting blizzards sigh;_
_You can hear them always laffin, saying, “Baffin! Baffin! Baffin!”_
_The little penguins all bob low as the Misty Maid goes by._
The Maid is a girl of sadness, and the Maid is a girl of woe,
For she’s Mistress of the Polar Sea, of the ice and the darkling floe;
The Maid has seen the starving crew, she has viewed the drowning boat,
And her eyes are dim, and her face is cold, for she hears the rattling
throat.
_But hear the penguins laffin, saying, “Baffin! Baffin! Baffin!”_
_You can always hear them laffin, while the cutting blizzards sigh._
_Oh! Hear the penguins laffin, saying, “Baffin! Baffin! Baffin!”_
_The little penguins all bob low as the Misty Maid goes by._
And the snowy owl, with his wintry cowl, sighs a song of bitter woe,
While the narwhal swims, and the musk-ox grins, at the crushing
ice-pack flow,
For the great white bear sneaks to his lair, where the little seals
are lying,
And out of the mist, with the moonlight kissed, a great weird song
comes sighing:
_Don’t_ follow the Maid of the Northland; _don’t_ gaze at her laughing
eyes;
For the Maid knows naught but sorrow, and naught but the ice king’s
lies;
_Don’t_ look at the Maid of the Polar Seas, her wand is a witch’s
staff,
Just stay away from the North Sea gray. _Don’t go where the penguins
laugh!_
EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
THE history of these adventurous men shows that the human mind, ever
curious and ever anxious to discover new and unknown facts, will
stimulate the endeavors of staunch physical beings to do feats of
daring and energy which those of more contented and passive mentality
will never feel either willing or able to accomplish.
Leif Ericson, Hudson, Pizarro, Peary, all were propelled onward upon
their missions of discovery and of adventure by that curious spark of
daring and love of adventure which has stimulated a Roosevelt and a
Dillon Wallace.
It is the mind that drives onward the body; it is the bump of curiosity
which propels the adventurer to take the risks and the hazards which
are necessary for exploration of unmapped countries.
Restless, dare-devilish souls will always exist, and, now that there
are no parts of the North American continent which are unknown to the
geographer and the man of scientific bent, those who are prompted
onward by the spirit of hazardous adventure must search for the
unknown in the unmapped and untouched regions of Africa or of South
America. Here vast wildernesses call to those of adventurous blood
to come and to admire; to struggle with the elements and to battle
with the currents of their water-courses and the unmarked trails of
their mountains. But no treasure of the Montezumas, nor gold of the
Incas, lie where the restless grasp of the invader can reach out and
appropriate as in the days of the dauntless Cortés and the avaricious
Pizarro.
So, live on! O Spirit of Adventure, without which there would be no
sparkle to life, no zest to the journey into the wilderness, no tang to
the canoe trip through the unknown chain of lakes, or the beaver-dammed
water course. Live on! and may you ever exist in the minds of young
America, so that, when the great call shall go up for those of Viking
soul and De Soto daring to rise and press onward for the honor of the
flag, there will be thousands of adventurers who have been trained to
the hazard of the camp, the slap of the paddle, and the gleam of the
rifle-barrel.
They, like the intrepid Peary, will “nail the good, old flag” to
the very ends of the earth, for it represents “liberty, equality,
fraternity”—three glorious qualities for the maintenance of which
every true-minded boy, when he grows to be a man, will be willing to
give his time, his energy, and, if necessary—his life.
THE END.
INDEX
Albuquerque, 188-189
Almagro, Diego, 220-221, 223-229, 246-247
Almedo, Father, 129-130, 158, 170
Alvarado, Lieutenant, 159-161, 170, 177
Alvarado, Moscoso de, 269
Anastase, Father, 403-404
Antonio, Father, 70-71, 75, 78-81
Astrup, Mr., 414
Atamara, 63-65, 68
Balboa, Vasco Nuñez de, 87-105, 195, 219-220
Barentz, William, 311
Bartola, Sergeant, 79
Bayard, Chevalier, 174, 294
Berardi, 47
Bonaparte, Napoleon, 228
Bjarni, son of Herjulf, 6-9
Bradley, John R., 416
Bridgman, Herbert L., 412
Cacama, 144, 155-156, 170
Cæsar, Julius, 228
Candia, Pedro de, 228
Capac, Huascar, 233, 235, 242-245
Capac, Huayna, 233
Capac, Manco, 233
Carthagena, Juan de, 193
Cartier, Jacques, 276
Cempoalla, Cacique, 128
Champlain, Samuel de, 273
Charles I, of Spain, 229-231, 235, 239, 246, 251-252, 266
Charles V, 109, 122, 126-127, 135, 143-144, 156, 181, 189-190, 194,
199, 205-206
Chastes, Seigneur de, 273, 275-277
Cilapulapu, 199-200
Colman, John, 319
Columbus, Christopher, 8, 13, 17-39, 47, 56, 58, 88, 95, 110, 181, 192
Columbus, Ferdinand, 18, 20
Cook, Dr. Frederick A., 416, 422
Coronado, Francisco Vasquez de, 267
Cortés, Hernando, 109-183, 205-206, 219, 430
Cortés, Martin, 182
Cuilahua, 144
Dautray, Sieur, 397
Davis, Richard Harding, 56
Diebitsch, Miss Josephine, see Peary, Mrs. Robert Edwin
Dolores, Doña, 67
Drulettes, Father, 364
Duhaut, 402-404
Egingwah, 420
Emanuel I, 56, 58, 66
Encisco, 89-92, 100
Enriquez, Carlo, 261
Ericson, Freydis, 11-12
Ericson, Leif, 3-13, 429
Ericson, Thorstein, 5, 10-11
Eric the Red, 5-7, 10
Escobar, 166
Escovedo, Rodrigo de, 32
Esequera, Perez de, 69
Falero, Roy, 189
Ferdinand V, 22-23, 25, 28, 32-35, 37, 46-47, 52, 65-66, 70-71, 78,
81, 91-92, 96-97, 99-100, 189
Fernandez, Garcia, 18-19
Finnibogi, 11
Florida, Adelantodo of the Land of, 71
Florin, Juan, 205
Francis I, 210, 215
Frontenac, Count de, 389, 394, 398
Gama, Vasca de, 308
Gosnold, Bartholomew, 316
Grijalva, 112, 116
Groseillers, 358-359
Guacanagari, 31
Guatemozin, 176, 178-180
Guitierrez, Pedro, 27
Helgi, 11
Henry IV, 274, 277, 286, 290
Henry VIII, 109
Hennepin, Father, 393
Henson, Matthew, 413, 420
Herjulf, 6, 8
Hiens, 402-403
Holguin, Garci, 179-180
Hudson, Hendrick, see Hudson, Henry
Hudson, Henry, 305-334, 429
Hudson, John, 309, 311, 333
Idona, 64
Ilacomilo, 59
Isabella I, 18-23, 28, 32-33, 35-37, 46-47, 52, 156, 189
Jessup, Morris K., 416
John II, 187, 189, 198
Joliet, Father, 367-377, 386
Jontel, 403
La Motte, Sieur de, 387-393
Lamudio, 91-92, 96
Larcheveque, 402, 404
La Salle, Robert de, 385-405
Leif Ericson, see Ericson, Leif
Leif the Lucky, see Ericson, Leif
Lenobe, 398
Leon, Juan Ponce de, 63-83
Leon, Ponce de, see Leon, Juan Ponce de
Leon, Velasquez de, 153, 170
Leonora, of Portugal, 187
Liolot, 402-403
Lothair, 3-5
Louis XIV, 386, 397-398
Luque, Hernando de, 220-221, 224, 228
Magarino, 170
Magellan, Ferdinand, 46, 187-202
Malinche, Marina, 118, 124-125, 138-139, 147, 153-154, 157, 168,
179-180
Margaard, 413
Marle, De, 402
Marquette, Father, 363-379, 385-386, 405
Martin, Alonzo, 97
Marvin, Professor Ross G., 419, 422