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[Illustration: "And now, a cheer for the first boys at the North Pole!"]
FIRST AT THE NORTH POLE
OR
TWO BOYS IN THE ARCTIC CIRCLE
BY
EDWARD STRATEMEYER
Author of
Oliver Bright's Search, Richard Dare's Venture,
The Last Cruise of the Spitfire, True to
Himself, Joe, the Surveyor,
Shorthand Tom, Etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY CHARLES NUTTALL
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS :: NEW YORK
Published, December, 1909
Copyright, 1909, by Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.
All rights reserved
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I--ANDY AND HIS UNCLE
CHAPTER II--AT THE LUMBER CAMP
CHAPTER III--SOME PAPERS OF VALUE
CHAPTER IV--CHET GREENE'S PAST
CHAPTER V--THE MAN ON THE LEDGE
CHAPTER VI--A WORLD-WIDE HUNTER
CHAPTER VII--CHET AND THE MOOSE
CHAPTER VIII--A TALK OF IMPORTANCE
CHAPTER IX--SOMETHING ABOUT THE NORTH POLE
CHAPTER X--BRINGING IN SOME GAME
CHAPTER XI--A SERIOUS LOSS
CHAPTER XII--A LETTER OF INTEREST
CHAPTER XIII--BARWELL DAWSON REACHES A DECISION
CHAPTER XIV--THE FIRE ON THE STEAMER
CHAPTER XV--THE START OF THE COOK EXPEDITION
CHAPTER XVI--A TRICK, AND WHAT FOLLOWED
CHAPTER XVII--AN ENCOUNTER WITH ICEBERGS
CHAPTER XVIII--SHOOTING WILD GEESE
CHAPTER XIX--GREENLAND AND THE ESQUIMAUX
CHAPTER XX--FAST IN THE ICE
CHAPTER XXI--A FIGHT WITH POLAR BEARS
CHAPTER XXII--THROUGH THE LONG NIGHT
CHAPTER XXIII--"NORTH POLE OR BUST!"
CHAPTER XXIV--THE LAST HUNT
CHAPTER XXV--CROSSING THE GREAT LEAD
CHAPTER XXVI--ON A FLOATING MASS OF ICE
CHAPTER XXVII--HOW COMMANDER PEARY REACHED THE POLE
CHAPTER XXVIII--THE TOP OF THE WORLD AT LAST
CHAPTER XXIX--FIGHTING OFF STARVATION
CHAPTER XXX--HOME AGAIN
CHAPTER XXXI--GOOD NEWS--CONCLUSION
PREFACE
"First at the North Pole," relates the particulars of a marvelous
journey from our New England coast to that portion of our globe
sometimes designated as "the top of the world."
Filled with such dreams as come to all explorers, Barwell Dawson
fitted out the _Ice King_ for a trip to the north. Because of what had
happened, it was but natural that he should invite Andy and Chet to
accompany him, and equally natural that they should hasten to accept
the invitation.
The boys knew that they would have no easy time of it, yet they did
not dream of the many perils that awaited the entire party. Once the
staunch steamer was in danger of being crushed by an immense iceberg,
in which event this chronicle would not have been written. Again, the
boys and the others had a fierce fight with polar bears and with a
savage walrus. When the ship was jammed hard and fast in the ice a
start was made by the exploring party, accompanied by some Esquimaux
and several dog sledges. All had heard of the marvelous achievements
of Cook and Peary, and all were fired with a great ambition to go and
do likewise. With the thermometer often at fifty degrees below zero,
they pushed on steadily, facing death more than once. To add to their
troubles they had sickness in camp, and snow-blindness, and once some
Esquimaux, becoming scared, rebelled and tried to run off with their
supplies. Then, when the North Pole was at last gained, it became the
gravest kind of a problem how to return to civilization alive.
In penning this volume I have had a twofold purpose in mind: the first
to show what pure grit and determination can do under the most trying
of circumstances, and the second to give my readers an insight into
Esquimaux life and habits, and to relate what great explorers like
Franklin, Kane, Hall, DeLong, Nansen, Cook, and Peary have done to
open up this weird and mysterious portion of our globe.
Edward Stratemeyer.
November 15, 1909.
CHAPTER I
ANDY AND HIS UNCLE
"What be you a-goin' to do today, Andy?"
"I'm going to try my luck over to the Storburgh camp, Uncle Si. I hardly
think Mr. Storburgh will have an opening for me, but it won't hurt to
ask him."
"Did you try Sam Hickley, as I told you to?" continued Josiah Graham, as
he settled himself more comfortably before the open fireplace of the
cabin.
"Yes, but he said he had all the men he wanted." Andy Graham gave
something of a sigh. "Seems to me there are more lumbermen in this part
of Maine than there is lumber."
"Humph! I guess you ain't tried very hard to git work," grumbled the old
man, drawing up his bootless feet on the rungs of his chair, and
spreading out his hands to the generous blaze before him. "Did you see
them Plover brothers?"
"No, but Chet Greene did, day before yesterday, and they told him they
were laying men off instead of taking 'em on."
"Humph! I guess thet Chet Greene don't want to work. He'd rather fool
his time away in the woods, huntin' and fishin'."
"Chet is willing enough to work if he can get anything to do. And
hunting pays, sometimes. Last week he got a fine deer and one of the
rich hunters from Boston paid him a good price for it."
"Humph! Thet ain't as good as a stiddy, payin' job. I don't want you to
be a-lazin' your time away in the woods,--I want you to grow up stiddy
an' useful. Besides, we got to have money, if we want to live."
"Aren't you going to try to get work, Uncle Si?" asked the boy
anxiously, as he gazed at the large and powerful-looking frame of the
man before him.
"To be sure I'm a-goin' to go to work--soon as I'm fit. But I can't do
nuthin with my feet an' my stomach goin' back on me, can I?"
"I thought your dyspepsia was about over--you've eaten so well the past
week. And you've walked considerably lately. If you got something
easy----"
"Now, don't you go to tellin' me what to do!" cried the old man,
wrathfully. "I'm a sick man, that's what I am. I ain't able to work, an'
it's up to you as a dootiful nevvy to git work an' support us both. Now
you jest trot off to the Storburgh camp, an' don't you come home till
you git work. An' after this, you better give up havin' anything to do
with thet good-fer-nuthin, lazy Chet Greene."
The boy's eyes flashed for an instant and he was on the point of making
a bitter reply to his relative. But then his mouth closed suddenly and
he turned away. In silence he drew off his slippers, donned his big
boots, and put on his overcoat and his winter cap. Then he pulled on his
gloves, slung a game bag over his shoulder, and reached for a gun that
stood behind a door.
"Wot you takin' thet fer?" demanded Josiah Graham, with his eyes on the
gun. "Didn't I tell you to look fer a job?"
"That's what I'm going to do," was the reply. "But if I come across any
game on the way I want the chance to bring it down."
"Humph! I know how boys are! Rather loaf around the woods than work, any
time."
"Uncle Si, if you say another word----" began the youth, and then he
stopped short, turned on his heel, and walked from the cabin, closing
the door none too gently behind him.
It was certainly a trying situation, and as he stepped out into the snow
Andy felt as if he never wanted to go back and never wanted to see his
Uncle Si again.
"It's his laziness, nothing else," murmured the boy to himself, as he
trudged off. "He's as able to work as I am. He always was lazy--father
said so. Oh, dear; I wish he had never come to Pine Run!"
Andy was a youth of seventeen, of medium height, but with well-developed
chest and muscles. His face was a round one, and usually good to look
at, although at present it was drawn down because of what had just
occurred.
The boy was an orphan, the son of a man who in years gone by had bought
and sold lumber throughout the northern section of Maine. His mother had
been taken away when he was a small lad, and then he and his father had
left town and come to live in the big cabin from which Andy was now
trudging so rapidly. An old colored woman had come along, to do the
cooking and other household work.
A log jam on the river had caused Mr. Graham's death two years before
this tale opens, and for a short time Andy had been left utterly alone,
there being no near neighbors and no relatives to take care of the
orphan. True, he had been offered a home by a lumber dealer of Bangor,
but the man was such a harsh fellow that Andy shrank from going with
him.
Then, one day, much to everybody's surprise, Josiah Graham appeared on
the scene and announced his intention to settle down and live with his
nephew. Josiah was an older half-brother to Andy's father, and the boy
had often heard of him as a shiftless, lazy ne'er-do-well, who drifted
from one town to another, seldom keeping a job longer than two or three
weeks or a month. He did not drink, but he loved to smoke, and to tell
stories of what he had done or was going to do.
"I'm a-goin' to take Andy in hand an' make a man of him," he declared,
shortly after his arrival. "A young feller like him needs a guardeen."
And then he had his trunk carted to the cabin and, without asking Andy's
permission, proceeded to settle down and make himself comfortable.
At first it looked as if matters might go along smoothly enough, for
Josiah Graham managed to obtain a position as time-keeper at one of the
lumber camps, where Andy was employed as a chopper. But soon the man's
laziness manifested itself, and when he did not do his work properly he
was discharged.
"It was the boss's fault, 'twasn't mine," he told Andy, but the youth
knew better. Then he got into a quarrel with the negro woman who did the
housework and told her to go away.
"'Twill be one less to feed," he said to his nephew. "We can do our own
work." But he did not do a stroke extra, and it fell to Andy's share to
sweep, and wash dishes, and make his own bed. Uncle Si wanted him to
make the other bed too, but he refused.
"If you want it made, you can make it yourself!" declared Andy, with
spirit. "You are not working at the camp, while I am." This led to a
lively quarrel. After that Josiah Graham did make up the bed a few
times, but usually when he crawled into it at night it was in the same
mussed-up condition as when he had crawled out in the morning.
Another quarrel came over the question of money. The uncle wanted Andy
to hand over all his earnings, but this the lad refused to do. Josiah
Graham had already gotten possession of the fifteen hundred dollars left
by Andy's father, but this was lost in a wildcat speculation in lumber
for which the old man was morally, if not legally, responsible. The
youth felt that he must be cautious or his uncle might make him
penniless.
"I'll pay the bills and give you a dollar a week," he told Josiah
Graham. "That will buy those tablets you take for your dyspepsia. You
had better give up smoking."
"Smoking is good for the dyspepsy," was the reply. "You give me the
money an' I'll pay the bills," and then, when Andy still refused, the
uncle waited until pay-day and went to the lumber camp and collected his
nephew's wages. This brought on more trouble, and, because of this, Andy
lost his position.
It was midwinter, and to get another job was by no means easy. The youth
tramped from place to place, but without success. The money in the hands
of Josiah Graham was running low, and he was constantly "nagging" Andy
to go and do something. He was perfectly able to look for work himself,
but was too indolent to make the effort. He preferred to sit in front of
the blazing fire and give advice. Once or twice a week he would shuffle
off to the village, two miles away, to sit behind the pot stove in the
general store and listen to the news.
"The laziest man in the whole district," declared the storekeeper. "It's
a pity he showed up to bother Andy Graham. I think the boy could have
done better without him." And this verdict was shared by many. But
nobody dared to tell Josiah Graham, for fear of provoking a quarrel with
the man.
As mentioned before, Andy's father had left fifteen hundred dollars. He
had also bequeathed to his son, when he should become of age, an
interest in a large timber tract in upper Michigan. On his deathbed the
father had secretly given his son some papers referring to the land,
telling him to beware or some "lumber sharks" would get the better of
him and take his property away. Andy now had these papers hidden in a
box under his bed. He had not told his uncle of them, feeling that his
relative was not capable of looking after his rights. Andy's education
was somewhat limited, yet he knew a great deal more than did Josiah
Graham, who had been too lazy to attend school, even when he had the
chance.
"I'll keep the papers secret," the lad told himself, "and some day, when
I get the chance and have the money, I'll go down to Bangor or Portland
and get a lawyer to look into the matter for me. If I let Uncle Si have
them he'll allow the land sharks to cheat me out of everything."
Andy's father had been more or less of a hunter, and the boy took
naturally to a rifle and a shotgun. He was a fair marksman, and the
winter previous had laid low three deer and a great variety of small
game. One of the deer had been brought down on a windy day and at long
range, and of that shot he was justly proud. The venison and other meat
had come in handy at the cabin, and the deer skins and the horns of a
buck had brought him in some money that was badly needed.
"If I can't get a job, I'm going hunting for a few days," said Andy half
aloud, as he trudged through the snow. "It's better than doing nothing,
Uncle Si to the contrary. Maybe I can get Chet to go along. I don't
think he has anything else to do. Somehow or other, it seems to be
awfully dull around here this winter. Maybe I would have done better if
I had tried my luck down in one of the towns."
Andy had to pass through the village of Pine Run, consisting of a
general store, blacksmith shop, church, and a score of houses. As he
approached the settlement he saw a horse and cutter coming toward him at
a smart rate of speed. In the cutter sat a man of about thirty, dressed
in a fine fur overcoat.
"Whoa!" called the man to his steed, as he approached the youth, and the
horse soon came to a halt. "Say, can you tell me, is this the road to
Moose Ridge?" he asked.
"It's one of the roads," answered Andy.
"Then there is another?"
"Yes, sir, just beyond that fringe of trees yonder."
"Which is the best road?"
"What part of the Ridge do you want to go to?"
"Up to a place called the Blasted Pines."
"Then you had better take the other road. You won't get through this
way."
"You are sure of that? I don't want to make any mistake."
"Yes, I am sure. I've been up there hunting myself," added Andy. He saw
that the cutter contained a game bag and two gun cases.
"Is the hunting any good?"
"It was last year. I haven't been up there this year. I got a fine big
deer up there. Maybe I'll get up there later--if I can't find work."
"Out of employment, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, if you come up there perhaps we'll meet again," said the man, and
started to turn the cutter back to the other road. "Much obliged for the
information."
"You're welcome," answered Andy. And then he watched the turnout swing
around and dash away for the other road.
Little did he dream of the strange circumstances under which he was to
meet this man again, or of what that encounter was to bring forth.