FINDING OF RUDOLPH FRANKE--WHITNEY LANDED--TRADING AND COALING--FIGHTING
THE ICE-PACKS
At Etah we take on the final load of coal from the _Erik_ and the other
supplies she has for us, and from now on it will be farewell to all the
world; we will be alone with our company, and our efforts will be
towards the north and our evasive goal.
At Etah, on going ashore, we were met by the most hopelessly dirty,
unkempt, filth-littered human being any of us had ever seen, or could
ever have imagined; a white man with long matted hair and beard, who
could speak very little English and that only between cries,
whimperings, and whines, and whose legs were swollen out of all shape
from the scurvy. He was Rudolph Franke and had been left here the year
before by Dr. F. A. Cook, an old acquaintance of mine, who had been a
member of other expeditions of the Commander's.
Franke was in a bad way, and the burden of his wail was, "Take me away
from this, I have permission, see, here is Dr. Cook's letter," and he
showed a letter from Dr. Cook, authorizing him to leave, if opportunity
offered. Dr. Goodsell looked him over and pronounced him unfit to remain
in the Arctic any longer than it would take a ship to get him out, and
the Commander had him kindly treated, cleaned, medicated, and placed
aboard the _Erik_. The poor fellow's spirits commenced to rise
immediately and there is good chance of his recovery and safe return
home.
We learn that Dr. Cook, with two Esquimo boys, is over on the Grant Land
side, and in probably desperate circumstances, if he is still alive. The
Commander has issued orders in writing to Murphy and Billy Pritchard to
be on the lookout for him and give him all the help he may need, and has
also instructed the Esquimos to keep careful watch for any traces of
him, while on their hunting trips.
There is a cache of Dr. Cook's provisions here, which Franke turned over
to the Commander, and Mr. Whitney has agreed to help Murphy and Billy
to guard it.
Mr. Harry Whitney is one of the party of men who came here on the _Erik_
to hunt in this region, and he has decided to stay here at Etah for the
winter and wait for a ship to take him out next summer. The other two
members of the hunting-party, Mr. Larned and Mr. Norton, returned on the
_Erik_. If Mr. Whitney had asked me my advice, I would not have
suggested that he remain, because, although he has a fine equipment,
there will not be much sport in his experience, and there will be a
great deal of roughness. He will have to become like the Esquimos and
they will be practically his only companions. However, Mr. Whitney has
had a talk with the Commander in the cabin of the _Roosevelt_, and the
Commander has given his consent and best wishes. Mr. Whitney's supplies
have been unloaded and some additions from the _Erik_ made, and there is
no reason to fear for his safety.
August 8, 1908: My forty-second birthday. I have not mentioned it to any
one, and there's only one other besides myself who knows that to-day I
am twice three times seven years of age. Seventeen years ago to-day,
Commander Peary, hobbling about on his crutches with his right leg in a
sling, insisted on giving me a birthday party. I was twenty-five years
old then, and on the threshold of my Arctic experience. Never before in
my life had the anniversary of my birth been celebrated, and to have a
party given in my honor touched me deeply. Mrs. Peary was a member of
the expedition then, and I suppose that it was due to her that the
occasion was made a memorable one for me. Last year, I was aboard the
_Roosevelt_ in the shadow of the "Statue of Liberty" in New York Bay,
and was treated to a pleasant surprise by my wife.
Commander Peary gave me explicit instructions to get Nipsangwah and Myah
ashore as quick as the Creator would let them, but to be sure that their
seven curs were kept aboard; these two huskies having exalted ideas as
to their rights and privileges. Egingwah, or Karko as we knew him, and
Koodlootinah and his family were to come aboard.
Acting under orders, I obeyed, but it was not a pleasant task. I have
known men who needed dogs less to pay a great deal more for one pup
than was paid to Nipsangwah for his pack of seven. The dogs are a
valuable asset to this people and these two men were dependent on their
little teams to a greater extent than on the plates and cups of tin
which they received in exchange for them.
August 8-9, 1908: Have been trading with the natives without any
trouble; they will give anything I want for anything that I have that
they want. "It's a shame to take the money," or, as money is unknown up
here and has no value, I should say that I should be ashamed to take
such an advantage of them, but if I should stop to consider the
freight-rates to this part of the world, no doubt a hatchet or a knife
is worth just what it can be traded in for.
The ship has been rapidly littering up until it is now in a most perfect
state of dirtiness, and in order to get the supplies from the _Erik_,
coal, etc., the movable articles, dogs, Esquimos, etc., will have to be
shifted and yours truly is helping.
The dogs have been landed on a small island in the bay, where they are
safe and cannot run away, and they can have a glorious time, fighting
and getting acquainted with each other. Some of the Esquimos' goods are
ashore, some aboard the _Erik_, and the rest forward on the roof of the
deck-house, while the _Roosevelt_ is getting her coal aboard.
The loading of the meat and coal has been done by the crews of the
ships, assisted and _hampered_ by some of the Esquimos, and I have been
walrus-hunting, and taxidermizing; that is, I have skinned a pair of
walrus so that they can be stuffed and mounted. This job has been very
carefully, and I think successfully, done and the skins have been towed
ashore. The hearts, livers, and kidneys have been brought aboard and the
meat is to be loaded to-morrow. Two boat-loads of bones have been rowed
over to Dog Island for dog-food.
Coaling and stowing of whale-meat aboard the _Roosevelt_ was finished at
noon, August 15, and all day Sunday, August 16, all hands were at the
job transferring to the _Erik_ the boxes of provisions that were to be
left at the cache at Etah. Bos'n Murphy and Billy Pritchard, the
cabin-boy, are to stay as guard until the return of the _Roosevelt_ next
summer. A blinding storm of wind and snow prevented the _Roosevelt_
from starting until about two-thirty P. M., when, with all the dogs
a-howling, the whistle tooting, and the crew and members cheering, we
steamed out of the Harbor into Smith Sound, and a thick fog which
compelled half-speed past Littleton Island and into heavy pack-ice.
Captain Bartlett was navigating the ship and his eagle eye found a lane
of open water from Cape Sabine to Bache Peninsula and open water from
Ellesmere Land half-way across Buchanan Bay, but this lead closed on
him, and the _Roosevelt_ had to stop. Late in the evening, the ice
started to move and grind alongside of the ship, but did no damage
except scaring the Esquimos. Daylight still kept up and we went to sleep
with our boots on!
From Etah to Cape Sheridan, which was to be our last point north in the
ship, consumed twenty-one days of the hardest kind of work imaginable
for a ship; actually fighting for every foot of the way against the
almost impassable ice. For another ship it would have been impassable,
but the _Roosevelt_ was built for this kind of work, and her worth and
ability had been proven on the voyage of 1905. The constant jolting,
bumping, and jarring against the ice-packs, forwards and backwards, the
sudden stops and starts and the frequent storms made work and comfort
aboard ship all but impossible.
Had it been possible to be ashore at some point of vantage, to witness
the struggles of our little ship against her giant adversaries would
have been an impressive sight.
I will not dwell on the trying hours and days of her successful battle,
the six days of watching and waiting for a chance to get out of our
dangerous predicament in Lincoln Bay, the rounding of the different
capes en route, or the horrible jams in Lady Franklin Bay. The good ship
kept at the fight and won by sheer bulldogged tenacity and pluck. Life
aboard her during those twenty-one days was not one sweet song, but we
did not suffer unusually, and a great deal of necessary work was done on
our equipments. The Esquimo women sewed diligently on the fur clothing
we were to wear during the coming winter and I worked on the sledges
that were to be used. Provisions were packed in compact shape and every
one was busy. Two caches of provisions were made ashore in the event of
an overland retreat, and the small boats were fully provisioned as a
precaution against the loss of the ship. We did not dwell on the thought
of losing it, but we took no chances.
Meeting with continual rebuffs, but persistently forging ahead and
gaining deliberately day by day, the _Roosevelt_ pushed steadily
northward through the ice-encumbered waters of Kane Basin, Kennedy and
Robeson Channels, and around the northeast corner of Grant Land to the
shelter of Cape Sheridan, which was reached early in the afternoon of
September 5, 1908.