THE FROZEN NORTH




INTRODUCTION


The north polar regions lie within the Arctic circle, and at their
center is the North Pole. The distance from the circle to the pole is
more than fourteen hundred miles. Intense cold and the hardships of ice
navigation have made the discovery and exploration of this region very
slow and hazardous.

It is believed that Norsemen from Norway and Sweden, after colonizing
Iceland, made settlements on the Greenland coast and carried their seal
hunting beyond the Arctic circle, far into the polar regions. But in
1347 a plague broke out in Norway, and the people forgot their far-off
colonies. For more than a hundred years after this no attempt was made
to enter the Arctic circle.

It is a singular fact that the famous voyage of Columbus in 1492,
although made toward the south, should have influenced to some extent
discovery in the north polar regions. After Columbus had really proved
that the earth was round, navigators believed that by sailing westward
far enough they might reach the rich lands of India and Cathay (China).

The only route then known from Europe to India was through the
Mediterranean Sea. At Constantinople, the cargoes of metals, woods,
and pitch were unloaded and sent on by caravan to the East, while
returning caravans brought silks, dyewoods, spices, perfumes, precious
stones, ivory, and pearls, to be shipped from Constantinople.

When the Turks, through whose country the merchants passed, began to
realize how valuable the Eastern trade was, they sent bands of robbers
to seize the caravans, making traffic by this route more difficult and
more dangerous as time went on; so that European merchants tried to
find some other way of reaching that part of the world.


John and Sebastian Cabot, two English navigators, set out in 1497 to
sail westward, but finding their way blocked by the American continent,
they returned. In 1498 Sebastian Cabot made a second voyage, with
the object of finding a passage north of America which would lead to
the Spice Islands and rich Cathay. In this way the long hunt for the
northwest passage was begun.

The Cabots did not find the northwest passage; and though many voyages
were made in search of it by other navigators during the fifteenth and
sixteenth centuries, nobody met with success. The severe cold, added to
the difficulties of a voyage through the ice of ages, prevented further
investigation in that direction for some time.

Meanwhile, the Spanish and the Portuguese had been active in seeking
for southern routes to the East, and had discovered two,one around
the Cape of Good Hope and one through the Strait of Magellan. They
guarded these waterways jealously, and would not allow the ships of
other nations to pass. Thus they succeeded in controlling all the rich
Eastern trade, and were growing very wealthy and powerful.

The English and the Dutch, who were also anxious to obtain a share
of the rich commerce with the East, saw the importance of finding a
northern route to India; consequently they experimented by sailing
northeast along the coast of Europe and Asia. The route which they
sought was known as the northeast passage.

England sent out the first expedition in 1553, but the severity of the
weather prevented the ships from making much progress. Several other
vain attempts were made by the English, and then the Dutch took up the
work; but they failed, too, and for a time the search for northern
passages to the Indies was abandoned.


The total absence of the sun from the Arctic regions during a large
part of each year makes the climate severe and the country desolate.
Direct sun rays are necessary to insure warmth, and the regions within
the Arctic circle receive at the best only slanting rays.


In the temperate zones the sun is never exactly overhead. For people
who live within the tropics it is overhead twice every year. At all
places along the equator the sun is overhead at noon on the 21st of
March. Each day after, it comes overhead at noon at places farther
north, until the 21st of June, when it is overhead at the tropic
of Cancer. After this the sun appears to turn and go south, and on
September 22 it is again overhead at noon at the equator. The sun then
continues to move southward each day until December 21, when it is
overhead at the tropic of Capricorn. And so it goes back and forth the
year round.

While the sun is north of the equator, there is constant day somewhere
within the Arctic circle; when the sun is south of the equator, there
is constant night somewhere within the Arctic circle. The farther a
region is from the equator, the longer are the days and nights at
different seasons of the year. At the pole there is a night of six
months and a day of six months. The night is sometimes lighted by the
moon and sometimes by the aurora borealis.


There are but two seasons in the Arctic regions a long, cold winter
and a short, dry summer. It is during the summer that the explorers do
their work. Throughout the dark winter they can do nothing. Even in the
summer, navigators meet with many perils, for Arctic navigation is not
an easy matter. Besides the danger that the vessel may be frozen in an
ice pack, or crushed between icebergs, the navigator is often blinded
by fogs and snows, and has to face unknown tides and currents.


The vegetation within the Arctic circle is scanty. During the summer
the bright, warm sun causes the plants to spring up and grow rapidly.
Willows, dwarf birches, and rush grasses are plentiful in some
localities. In southern Greenland, and in some sheltered places along
its western coast, yellow poppies and dandelions grow. Farther north
only mosses and lichens are to be found, and beyond the moss line there
is no trace of vegetation.

Nevertheless there are plenty of animals in this land of ice and snow.
The polar bear, Arctic fox, blue fox, wolf, ermine, reindeer, and
musk ox are plentiful. Seals and walruses come out of the water upon
the ice, during the summer, to enjoy the sun, and thousands of snow
buntings, auks, and eider ducks visit the shores of the cold seas to
build their nests and catch food. When the summer of three months is
over, nearly all outward signs of animal and vegetable life disappear
and the entire landscape becomes a dreary, white expanse.

The inhabitants of this cold land are called Eskimos. They find it
hard to get a living, and their dwellings are of the rudest and most
primitive sort. Many of the tribes move from place to place, building
their snow huts wherever game is most plentiful, but never going far
inland, because fish forms a large part of their food. The Eskimos do
not mind the bitter weather. They are quite accustomed to a temperature
of 50° below zero.

Within the Arctic circle are two principal areas of great cold, one in
North America and one in Siberia. The mildest winters are at Bering
strait and in the Spitzbergen Sea, where there is usually open water.
The former is affected by the warm Japan Current and the latter by the
Gulf Stream.

We have as yet learned but little about the icy North. Nearly three
million square miles of our earth lie within the Arctic circle and are
unknown today. Much more information must be gained before man can
hope to understand the physical laws of this mysterious region.


For a century and a half after the sailing ships of the sixteenth
century had failed to find the northern passages to the East, little
was done in the way of Arctic exploration. The whale and cod fishers
were the only navigators who ventured into the frozen seas. These
fishermen carried on a profitable business in fish and oil. One of
them, a Scotch whaler named William Scoresby, succeeded in driving his
ship as far north as latitude 81° 12ʹ 42ʺ. He spent all the time that
he could spare on this voyage in collecting information about this
unknown part of the earth, and on his return to England, he told such
wonderful stories that the English people became once more interested
in the frozen North.

Accordingly, in 1815, after England’s wars with the United States and
France were over, the government offered a reward of £20,000 to any one
who would make the northwest passage, and a reward of £5000 to any one
who would reach 89° north latitude. This offer of prize money stirred
the adventurous blood of seafaring men. In 1818 two expeditions were
sent out, and others quickly followed.

The vast area of unexplored space within the Arctic circle stimulated
men’s imaginations almost as much as the Western world beyond the
Atlantic had done in the days of Columbus. Many a brave sailor was
ready to undertake the difficult work. Famous among those who did
valuable service was Sir John Franklin.





SIR JOHN FRANKLIN



Sir John Franklin was one of the greatest explorers the world has ever
known. We owe to him most of our knowledge of the northern coast of
America and of the far North.


Franklin was born in 1786 at Spilsby, a small town in Lincolnshire,
England, about ten miles from the coast. As a boy, he one day visited
the seaside, which so delighted him that he then and there made up his
mind to be a sailor.

Franklin’s parents wished him to become a clergyman, and in the hope of
curing him of his new passion, they sent him on a trial voyage. This
plan did not succeed, for the young man learned to love the sea so much
that at last the father yielded to his son’s desire, and obtained a
position for him in the Royal Navy. While in the navy, John Franklin
took part in several of the hardest naval battles the English ever
fought. He made a brilliant record as a fearless sailor and a wise and
determined leader.

After the wars were over, Franklin began the study of science. But land
life was dull for him, and he longed for the dangers and excitement of
the sea. When word came that he had been chosen by the government to go
in search of the North Pole, he was unspeakably happy. Soon two strong
vessels were ready for the voyage. The command of the Dorothea was
given to Captain Buchan, while Franklin, with the rank of lieutenant,
was put in command of the Trent. Their orders were to proceed
northward between the islands of Spitzbergen and Greenland, and if
they found the sea free from ice, to push ahead directly for the North
Pole. Should they succeed in finding the pole, they were, if possible,
to return by way of Bering strait, and thus prove the existence of a
northwest passage.


The ships sailed out of the Thames river April 25, 1818. On May 10 they
crossed the Arctic circle, and Franklin beheld for the first time
the grand spectacle of the midnight sun. Shortly after the ships had
crossed the circle, a terrible gale arose. The weather was bitterly
cold, the snow came down fast, blinding the eyes of the sailors, and
ice covered the brigs from bow to stern. Every time the bows came up
out of the water a fresh layer of ice was formed upon them, and the
vessels became so heavy that the sailors were obliged to chop the ice
away with axes. The ropes also were frozen over, and in order to keep
them ready for instant use, the sailors had continually to beat off the
ice with sticks. The ice pack extended on all sides as far as the eye
could reach, and little by little it closed around the ships.


Notwithstanding this, they managed to enter a bay on the coast of
Spitzbergen, where Captain Buchan decided to remain until the pack
should break up. Neither officers nor men were idle while at anchor in
this bay. Some surveyed the harbor and made a map of it, while others
measured the depth of the water with instruments which they had brought
for that purpose. The magnetic needle was closely watched, and all its
changes noted. Many went hunting and supplied the crew with meat of the
seal and walrus. Meantime a close watch was kept upon the ice pack.

Franklin learned to like the rugged Arctic scenery. Close to the shores
of Spitzbergen were long, snow-covered valleys and high mountains, and
between the mountains stood immense glaciers, glistening in the bright
sunlight which had so little power to melt their surfaces.

One day Buchan and Franklin were in a small boat at the foot of a
glacier. Suddenly they heard a noise like the report of a great cannon,
and looking up, they saw a portion of the glacier sliding down the
mountain side. This great mass of ice made a grinding noise as it went,
and streams of water flowed after it. At length it plunged into the sea
and disappeared from view. The water was greatly disturbed and covered
with foam. In a few moments the huge piece of ice rose to the surface
and surged up to a great height above the sea. Then Franklin and his
companion knew how icebergs are formed. This one was a quarter of a
mile around, and rose sixty feet above the water. It must have weighed
millions of tons.


Franklin was now more anxious than ever to get to the pole. He knew
that thousands of years ago a part of America and Europe was covered
with ice just as the Arctic regions now are, and he felt sure that if
he remained long enough in this land he would be able to explain many
things heretofore unknown, in regard to climate, soil, tides, and winds.

Soon the ships, headed toward the north, put to sea again, but a
furious gale arose, and they were once more caught in the ice pack.
When the wind went down, the Dorothea was so badly damaged as to
be almost unseaworthy, and Captain Buchan decided to turn back. The
Trent also had been injured, but Franklin tried hard to induce
Captain Buchan to allow him to go northward alone. Captain Buchan
refused, and both vessels accordingly returned to England, where they
arrived safely on October 12, 1818. We must not regard this expedition
as a failure, even though the pole remained undiscovered, for Franklin
had gained the experience which later enabled him to accomplish
valuable geographical work in the Arctic regions.




FRANKLIN’S FIRST LAND JOURNEY



The next year the British government again decided to send two ships
northward. One of these ships was put in command of Lieutenant Parry
and was ordered to Lancaster sound. From this place Parry was told
to sail westward and seek the northwest passage. He did not find the
northwest passage, but he succeeded in sailing inside of the Arctic
circle farther west than any one had gone before. For this achievement
he received a prize of £5000 from the government and on his return to
England was highly honored.

The other expedition was put in command of Sir John Franklin, who,
together with four companions, was to proceed to Hudson bay on one
of the ships belonging to the Hudson Bay Company. From Hudson bay,
Franklin was to make a land journey by means of sledges and canoes
across the northern part of North America, to the mouth of the
Coppermine river. From this point, he was to turn and follow the coast
of North America east. The latitude and longitude of various places
were to be noted, maps to be drawn, and capes, bays, and rivers located
and surveyed.

At this time that part of North America which borders on the Arctic
ocean had never been explored. Only two white men, employees of the
Hudson Bay Company, had ever looked upon this ocean from the continent
of North America. The first, Samuel Hearne, traveled northward with
the Indians in 1770, and reached the mouth of a large river which was
named the Coppermine, because the Indians said that large mines of
copper were to be found along its banks.

The second explorer, Alexander Mackenzie, in 1789 traced to its mouth
the river which now bears his name. With the exception of these two
river mouths, the entire northern coast of North America was unknown.
The map which is today covered with names of places, was then a blank.

This was the region which Franklin was to explore. Many men would dread
such a journey, but Franklin liked it because of the very dangers
involved. Dr. John Richardson, midshipmen Robert Hood and George Back,
and a seaman, John Hepburn, were selected to go with Franklin on this
trip; they were well chosen, for they were worthy companions of the
young leader. On May 23, 1819, he and his men sailed on the Prince of
Wales for the Arctic land. The voyage was long and stormy; several
times it seemed likely that the Prince of Wales would never touch
land again, but at the end of three months she anchored off York
Factory, on the southern shore of Hudson bay, one of the posts built
by the Hudson Bay Company for the purpose of trading in furs with the
Indians.

The people at York Factory received Franklin and his companions kindly
and helped them all they could. They gave Franklin a boat for his
journey through the lakes and rivers on his way to the sea. The same
sort of boat is still in use in that region and is called a York boat.
It is forty feet in length, narrow, light, and sharp at both ends.
About ten men can manage it. When on lakes or traveling down streams
the men use oars, but when traveling against the current of a river
they run alongshore and drag the boat after them. This long and narrow
boat is well suited for shooting rapids, through which it is guided
by means of long poles. Sometimes the rapids are so swift that they
cannot be navigated, and falls are often encountered. Then the cargoes
are taken out of the boats and carried around the rapids or falls, and
afterward the boats also are carried around. Such a place is called a
portage.

The officers of the Hudson Bay Company, besides giving Franklin a boat,
sent word to other trading posts throughout the country, to look out
for him and to help him. The party, having secured boats and stores,
started from York Factory to continue their journey. After traveling
seven hundred miles, they reached another post called Cumberland House,
where Franklin expected to find guides and hunters, but every one
refused to undertake a journey so full of peril.


Franklin, though disappointed, was not discouraged. He left two men at
Cumberland House to wait for supplies and to bring them on. Then, with
Back and Hepburn, he started out with dog sledges for another trading
post on Lake Athabasca. This journey was begun on January 18, 1820, in
the middle of an Arctic winter of prolonged darkness. The suffering
of these three explorers cannot be described. The temperature fell as
low as 38° below zero, blizzards were common, and the party nearly
perished. On some days the mercury froze in the thermometers, and the
tea froze in the tin pots before it could be drunk.

At Lake Athabasca Franklin was joined by the men he had left at
Cumberland House. They had secured some provisions, and now the entire
party proceeded down the Slave river to Great Slave lake. They reached
Fort Providence, on the northern end of the lake, during the latter
part of July, and in a few days the little company departed in four
canoes, steering northward into a country which had never before been
visited by white men.

Soon Franklin met seventeen canoes filled with Indians, who had
promised to go part of the way with him and hunt game for his party.
They all proceeded together through a chain of lakes to Winter lake,
where they decided to pass the winter. Here they built a house which
they called Fort Enterprise, and from this place they made short trips
to explore the country northward. One of the exploring parties reached
the source of the Coppermine river.

At first game was plentiful at Fort Enterprise, but as winter advanced
the reindeer left the place, provisions became scarce, and ammunition
was very low. Back offered to return to Lake Athabasca for supplies,
and Franklin allowed him to go. He left the party in November, and they
did not see him again until March. He had made a journey of eleven
hundred miles on snowshoes, sleeping in the shelter of drifts, wrapped
in a blanket and a deerskin, and had sometimes been forced to go
without food for two or three days. But he had saved the party.

When spring came, Franklin and his company started northward again
with two large canoes and several sledges. They must have “made a
record” for slow travel, for each man had to carry or drag a load of
one hundred and eighty pounds, probably more than the weight of any one
of them. At the Coppermine they launched their canoes, and were soon
shooting dangerous rapids, and carrying their boats over the portages.
Franklin did not stop to search for copper; he had other aims.

On July 18, 1821, the party reached the mouth of the Coppermine and
camped on the shore of the Arctic ocean. It was a cold place for a
camp, but the men were so delighted to reach this point that they did
not complain of the temperature.

Franklin here paid a tribute to famous travelers, and to some of his
old friends, by naming the capes and bays after them. This might be
called a cold compliment, but doubtless the favored ones appreciated it.

The great ocean must have seemed to these men the end of their journey,
yet it was only the beginning. On July 21 the canoes were launched and
one of the most daring voyages of exploration was begun that has ever
been attempted. Canoes built for use only on lakes and rivers had now
to battle with rough waters filled with ice. For several weeks Franklin
kept on his perilous way eastward, discovering new islands, bays, and
capes.

As freezing weather had already set in, and the provisions showed signs
of giving out, Franklin decided to return to Fort Enterprise and spend
the winter there, hoping to continue his work along the coast the next
summer.

He named the place where he decided to return Point Turnagain. The
distance from the Coppermine to Point Turnagain is five hundred and
fifty miles, and all that length of coast was traversed and charted by
Franklin’s company.

It was decided to go back to Fort Enterprise by way of the Hood river,
because that route was thought easier than the other; it proved to be
more difficult. Much of the journey had to be made on foot over a stony
country. The men were loaded down with boats, tents, and blankets, and,
worst of all, the provisions gave out. All that the adventurers could
find to eat was a kind of lichen, which grew like moss on the rocks.
Often the men were wet to their waists from having to ford streams and
tramp through swamps.

After a time they became so weak and footsore that they could scarcely
walk, and when at last they reached Fort Enterprise they found it
deserted. The Indians who had promised Franklin to remain and stock the
place with food for him, had abandoned the fort. This was a terrible
blow. Those of the party who were able to walk, started out to search
for the Indians, while the rest remained in the hut, expecting death
every moment. While these men sat waiting, they saw a herd of reindeer
pass close to the hut. Not a man was strong enough to stand and shoot,
and the deer passed undisturbed. At last some Indians arrived. They
brought plenty of venison with them, and they stayed with the white men
and nursed them back to health.

When the sick men were able to travel, the party started again for
Hudson bay. They succeeded in reaching Moose Deer island, and there,
under the care of the Hudson bay officials, Franklin and his followers
grew well and strong.

When they came again to York Factory, Franklin and his men had traveled
5550 geographical miles and explored thousands of miles of country
never before visited by civilized men. This journey is one of the
most remarkable in history. Only men of the highest courage and the
strongest determination could have accomplished it.

When Franklin reached England his countrymen bestowed upon him honors
of all sorts. He was promoted to the rank of captain, and made Fellow
of the Royal Geographical Society.




FRANKLIN’S SECOND LAND JOURNEY



After Franklin had been at home about two years, he began to feel
restless and to long for action. About this time the English government
decided to send Parry, for the third time, in search of the northwest
sea passage.

Franklin advised that another land party be sent at the same time
to the mouth of the Mackenzie. There, he thought, the party should
divide, one branch of it to explore the coast of North America east to
the Coppermine river, the other to go westward to Icy cape. Then the
entire northern coast of North America would have been covered, and
the land party might meet and assist Parry. The government decided to
adopt Franklin’s plan, and when he begged to be allowed to command this
expedition, granted his request, and more than this, permitted him to
make all arrangements for the expedition. He first ordered three boats
to be built which should be suitable for travel on both rivers and
lakes, as well as on the Arctic ocean. They must combine light weight
with great strength. In 1824 Franklin sent these boats, filled with
stores and provisions, to Great Bear lake in charge of the Hudson Bay
Company; and on February 16, 1825, he and his officers sailed.

They traveled through the United States and Canada to Great Bear lake,
where they halted for a few days for the purpose of bargaining with
the Indians for supplies of food during the winter. Then the party
embarked in canoes and steered for the Mackenzie river.

As the Mackenzie is broad and smooth and without rapids, they quickly
reached Fort Norman, the most northern Hudson bay post on the river.
It was now early in August, and only a few weeks were left in which to
build winter quarters and to lay in a stock of provisions. A place on
Great Bear lake was chosen for their village, and Lieutenant Back was
given charge of the work of preparation.

Meanwhile Franklin pushed on to the mouth of the Mackenzie. He wished
to examine the coast so that he might know just what was needed for
travel along that route when spring should come. He found it was an
easy journey in his new boat, and when he came to the sea he saw to his
joy that it was free from ice and full of seals and whales. When he
had made himself acquainted with the character of the coast around the
mouth of the river, he returned to the camp on Great Bear lake.

He found that during his absence his companions had named the post Fort
Franklin in his honor, and very comfortable arrangements had been made
for the winter. Three houses were ready, one for the officers, one for
the seamen and Indians, and one for supplies. There were now fifty
persons in the party: five officers, nineteen seamen, nine Canadians,
two Eskimos, and the rest Indians, including men, women, and children.
They were a mixed company, truly, but they passed the season pleasantly
together. The officers worked hard collecting important facts about the
water, ice, animals, mosses, weather, and sky. They also took charge of
a school, which Franklin insisted upon maintaining for the Indians and
the Eskimos. Attendance at this school was compulsory, and you may be
sure all the pupils preferred hunting and fishing. The seamen turned
carpenters and built boats.

No one was sorry when spring came and the journey could be continued.
On June 24, 1826, the company divided into two parties and started down
the Mackenzie river. At the mouth of the river they separated; one
party under command of Franklin proceeded to the west, the other party
under Dr. Richardson, to the east. Each had provisions enough to last
from eighty to one hundred days.

Franklin and his men soon fell in with an Eskimo tribe numbering about
three hundred. These Eskimos proved themselves such thieves that
it seemed likely that they might presently murder Franklin and his
companions and take all they had. Lieutenant Back ordered the men in
his boat to point their muskets at the Eskimos; whereupon they ran away
and left the white men in peace.

The journey along the coast was made through blocks of ice, heavy fogs,
and high winds, with a temperature often below freezing. Yet this was
midsummer!

But the party kept bravely on their way, taking observations of the
sun, watching the magnetic needle of the compass, studying tides,
stones, plants, and animals. Among the greatest hardships that the men
suffered were attacks from swarms of mosquitoes; they dreaded these
more than cold or ice packs.

After three hundred and seventy-four miles of coast had been explored,
Franklin decided that if he continued the journey, he would not have
enough provisions. They had made half the distance between the mouth of
the Mackenzie river and Icy cape. To the most western point visited,
they gave the name Beechey point. On returning to Fort Franklin they
found that the other party, led by Dr. Richardson, had also made a
successful journey, having explored eight hundred and sixty-three miles
of coast line between the mouth of the Mackenzie and the mouth of the
Coppermine, and traveled nineteen hundred and eighty[1] geographical
miles.

[1] Franklin’s own book gives 1989 miles. Greely’s Hand Book gives 1709
miles.

The success of these two explorations put the company in good spirits,
and the following winter of 1826 was passed pleasantly at Fort
Franklin. Franklin started for home in February, and reached England
September 26, 1827, after an absence of two years and seven months.

Two months after his arrival he married Jane, daughter of John Griffin,
Esq. This lady, Franklin’s second wife, was a very remarkable woman, of
whom we shall hear more.

All England was delighted with the results of this second land journey.
Franklin and Richardson together had surveyed 37° of longitude along
the Arctic shore of North America. The coast from the mouth of the
Coppermine westward to Beechey point had been proved to be open for
navigation, while from Beechey point to Icy cape it was undoubtedly
open.

To complete a northwest passage it was only needful to find a gap
to the eastward, connecting this pathway for ships with the older
discoveries on the Atlantic side. Over one thousand miles of American
coast had been explored, maps and charts had been made, and knowledge
in all branches of science had been increased.

The honor of knighthood was conferred upon Captain Franklin, who was
afterward to be known as Sir John Franklin. Parry’s expedition in
search of the northwest passage had been unsuccessful.




THE EREBUS AND THE TERROR



At this time, 1827, England, under the rule of George IV, was occupied
with her own troubles. The disputes between Catholics and Protestants
engaged the attention of the English people so that interest in
exploration waned. After a short rest at home, Sir John Franklin was
sent in command of her Majesty’s ship, Rainbow, to the Mediterranean
sea. The Greek war of independence was closing, and Franklin
distinguished himself by the judgment and skill he showed in following
out the work intrusted to him.

Upon his return to England, Franklin was offered the position of
Governor of Tasmania, which he accepted, remaining there seven years.
When he returned again to England in 1842, he found people once more
interested in the discovery of the northwest passage. It was eighteen
years since Franklin had returned from the icy North, but the northwest
passage had not been found. During those years several expeditions
had been at work in the northern part of North America and along
the northern coast, thus broadening and increasing the geographical
knowledge of the country first entered by Franklin. But the mystery of
the northwest passage still stirred men’s imaginations, and the Royal
Geographical Society decided to send out another expedition in search
of it. The command of this expedition was offered to Sir John Franklin.

Some people thought that Franklin ought not to go again to the
northern land. These people told him that he had already done enough
for his country, having risked his life three times, and made more
discoveries in that region than any other man. They reminded him that
he was now sixty years of age, and ought to be willing to remain at
home and let a younger man undertake this hard and dangerous journey.

But Franklin rejoiced at the thought of seeing the far North again.
He declared that he was only fifty-nine years of age, and that the
discovery of the northwest passage was the object nearest his heart.
Two ships, called the Erebus and the Terror, were given Franklin
for this voyage. These ships, propelled by steam screws, were the first
vessels of the kind ever used in the Arctic seas. It was thought that
the use of the steam screw instead of the paddle wheel would prove
of great value to navigators in seas where ice packs and heavy gales
were constantly to be feared. Great results, then, were expected from
the expedition fitted out in this improved manner. Franklin himself
took command of the Erebus, while Captain Crozier was given command
of the Terror. Sufficient provisions were put aboard the vessels to
provide for an absence of three years, and nothing was left undone that
promised to insure the safety and success of the expedition, or to
promote the health and comfort of the explorers.

The ships sailed from England on May 19, 1845. The men were in good
spirits and hopeful. They sailed north toward Lancaster sound, and on
the 26th of July, 1845, a whaling vessel, called the Prince of Wales,
sighted them in Melville bay, stuck fast in the ice. The captain of
the whaler received a visit from some of the exploring party, and was
invited to dine with Franklin, but a breeze sprang up suddenly, and the
ships parted company.

That was the last time the Erebus and the Terror, or any of the men
aboard those vessels, were ever seen. They appeared to have dropped off
the face of the earth.

When the Erebus and Terror had been absent two years, and no news
of them had been heard, many expeditions were sent out to hunt for
them. Some traces of the ships were discovered, and it is believed that
the vessels sailed northward through Lancaster sound to Beechey island,
where they wintered (1845–1846). On this island were found the graves
of two seamen marked with headboards showing the date of their death.


It is thought that when spring came, the ships were released from the
ice and proceeded southward toward King William’s Land. While near to
King William’s Land the vessels were probably again caught in the pack.
The second winter, with its long, dark night, bitter cold, and absence
of proper food, must have been a gloomy one for these poor men.

If they were still alive when spring came, how they must have hoped
each day for the freeing of the ships! As the days passed and spring
grew to summer, summer to autumn, yet with no prospect of release from
the cruel pack, the situation became hopeless and intolerable.

All this misery came upon them with greater force because success
was so near. Franklin knew that a distance of but one hundred miles
separated him from the object of his search. Almost within reach of the
goal, here he was, locked in!

Though the ice did not break up, yet during the spring (May 24, 1847)
Franklin sent a party under the command of Lieutenant Graham Gore to
explore King William’s Land. This party reached Cape Herschel, a point
on the southern coast of King William’s Land, and in the distance saw
the continent of North America.

A navigable passage was known to exist along the northern coast of
America from Boothia to Bering strait. Franklin himself and Richardson
had discovered and surveyed the greater part of this extent of country.

Franklin had succeeded in reaching King William’s Land by entering the
Arctic from the Atlantic. Thus the discovery of the northwest passage
was reduced to the finding of a link which should connect these two
known waterways. This link was found by Graham Gore, when from Cape
Herschel he saw the American coast across a narrow channel of water.
So the credit of the discovery of the northwest passage must be given
to Franklin. Had it not been for the fact that his ships were beset in
the ice, Franklin would, without doubt, have sailed in 1846 from the
Atlantic to the Pacific along the northern coast of North America.

As it was, Lieutenant Gore’s discovery connected the two known
passages and established the fact that an open waterway existed. Gore
wrote a brief record of what his party had accomplished and left it on
the island, where it was found years later by men who were searching
for Franklin; but neither Franklin nor any of his heroic band lived to
tell in person the news of the discovery.

When Gore returned to the Erebus he found Sir John very ill. He
probably came in time to inform Franklin that the northwest passage had
really been discovered. Let us hope so. Franklin passed peacefully away
June 11, 1847. He had lived a good life and left a glorious name behind
him.

Captain Crozier of the Terror now took command of the expedition.
The prospect of a third winter in the ice made the bravest of the
men shrink, but it was too late in the season for them to leave the
ships. To do so would have been certain death. It is best not to try to
picture the misery of the third winter.

In the spring of 1848 there were one hundred and five men still living.
These half-starved creatures decided to leave the ships and travel by
sledges to the North American coast, where they hoped to meet some
Indians who would give them food and guide them to the Hudson Bay
settlements. Their dreadful march has been traced along the western
coast of King William’s Land, and perhaps a few of the party reached
the southern end of that island.

A number of Eskimos saw and camped with some of them, but would not
remain, fearing that there was not sufficient food for all. There is no
doubt that food gave out entirely, and that the men died of starvation.
Many years later an old Eskimo woman reported having seen a party of
white men traveling to the south. She said, “They fell down and died
as they walked along.” It is inspiring to think of the heroism of
these brave men who discovered the northwest passage. Their patience,
perseverance, and devotion to their work deserve our highest admiration.

In 1847, when, after two years of waiting, no news of the Erebus
or the Terror came to England, great anxiety was aroused and many
searching expeditions were sent out. Lady Franklin offered a reward
of £2000 to any one who would bring her news of her husband or his
companions. Her courage and her determined efforts to trace the
lost vessels aroused the sympathy of the world. Lady Franklin spent
her entire private means in the search, and it is largely owing
to her efforts that we have any knowledge at all of her husband’s
accomplishment and of his final fate.

The English government also offered a large reward to any one who
would find the lost ships or crews. In the autumn of 1850 there were
fifteen vessels in the Arctic ocean, hunting for Franklin and his
ships. America joined England in the search, and as a result the Arctic
regions became far better known than ever before.

Several of these expeditions discovered traces of Franklin. McClintock
found the most important records. He erected on Beechey island a marble
slab which was sent out by Lady Franklin in memory of her husband and
his brave companions.


If you should go to London, you would find in Waterloo Place another
monument erected to the memory of Franklin. There is still another
at his home in Spilsby. Lady Franklin also erected a monument to her
husband in Westminster Abbey.

Although Sir John Franklin deserves the credit of the discovery of the
northwest passage, the first man who passed through this passage from
the Pacific to the Atlantic was Sir Robert McClure, who made the voyage
in 1854. McClure was sent to search for Franklin, and entered the
Arctic ocean through Bering strait. Being obliged to abandon his ship,
he, together with his crew, crossed the ice of Barrow strait by sledge,
where a relief party met them. This was the first and only expedition
that ever made the northwest passage, which, for purposes of trade, is
useless.




ELISHA KENT KANE



One of the most famous efforts to find Sir John Franklin was made by an
American, Mr. Henry Grinnell, of New York City. From his own private
means he furnished ships and most of their equipment for two separate
expeditions. The first Grinnell expedition, under the command of
Lieutenant De Haven, was sent out in 1850. It reached Beechey island
on August 27 of the same year, and assisted in the examination of
Franklin’s winter quarters there, but returned without wintering.


The second Grinnell expedition went out three years later. This was
commanded by a man who became almost as famous as Sir John Franklin
himself, Elisha Kent Kane. Kane had been with De Haven in 1850, and
thoroughly understood the work of Arctic exploration. He liked the
wild, exciting life, and he had an ardent desire to find the brave men
who had been lost, and to bring them home with him.

Kane’s plan was to pass up Baffin bay as far north as it was possible
to drive the ship. From that point he intended to proceed by boats or
sledges toward the pole, examining the coast lines along the way for
traces of the lost party.

The strongly built bark Advance was selected for this journey, and
Kane set sail from New York with seventeen companions, in May, 1853.
After a month the Advance reached Fiskernaes, a town on the Greenland
coast, inhabited chiefly by Eskimos. To these people a ship was a very
unusual sight, and they swarmed upon the rocks to gaze at the strange
newcomers. The Danish official who had charge of the colony welcomed
Kane and his companions hospitably.


Kane had brought all the dried and salted provisions he could carry,
but he knew that his men would need fresh meat in order to keep well
in this climate. Besides, they had with them about fifty dogs for the
sledge journeys which Kane expected to make when the vessel could
no longer push her way through the ice. But Eskimo dogs have large
appetites and need plenty of fresh meat to keep them strong; a good
Eskimo hunter was needed to supply such food.

There was a boy about nineteen years of age in the town, named Hans
Christian, who was known to be very skillful in the use of the kayak
and the javelin. Kane called upon Hans to try his skill. Hans threw his
javelin and speared a bird on the wing. Kane said, “That is the man
for me,” and wished to engage him on the spot. But Hans said, “No, not
until you promise to give my mother two barrels of bread and fifty-two
pounds of pork.” Kane agreed, and then Hans went cheerfully on board
the Advance, certain that his mother would not suffer during his
absence.

Kane made one more landing on the Greenland coast, at Sukkertoppen. The
natives of this place collected reindeer skins, and had just sent four
thousand to Denmark. Kane bought a stock of skins for clothing, also a
large supply of sealskins for boots. The party then bade farewell to
the governor of the colony and put out to sea.

The ship sailed northward for several days. Every day the weather
became colder and the ice thicker. One day a heavy gale arose, and the
ship tossed about so among the icebergs and the floating cakes that
her escape from being crushed was marvelous. Captain Kane, who was
a very ingenious man, devised a method of avoiding this danger from
ice crushing. His plan was to attach the vessel to an iceberg and let
her float after it, for there is always open water around a berg. The
plan sounded very simple, but Kane had not reckoned on the nature of
icebergs. After eight hours of hard work the anchors were fastened, but
before the men had time to breathe freely, a few crackling sounds were
heard and pieces of ice the size of walnuts fell on the deck like hail.
The sailors had just time to cast off from the berg when it fell, with
a crash, into the water around them.

Not long after this the Advance became so firmly fastened in the ice
that they could not push her in any direction. The party then left the
brig and explored the country around, traveling forty miles, and at
last climbing to the top of an iceberg, a height of eleven hundred feet
above the sea. On every side, as far as the eye could reach from this
great elevation, spread out a solid sea of ice.

It was now September, and the temperature fell below freezing. It
seemed certain that the Advance could not be freed from the ice until
the next summer, and the explorers accordingly prepared to pass the
winter there. They succeeded in dragging the vessel and wedging it
in between two islands. In this harbor, known as Rensselaer bay, the
stanch little Advance was frozen solidly in, never to be released.




WINTER IN RENSSELAER HARBOR



The Arctic winter had set in. By the middle of September the
thermometer had fallen to 14° and the ice was thickening fast. The
long Arctic night was upon the explorers. During that first winter in
Rensselaer harbor, the sun was below the horizon one hundred and twenty
days, and ninety of these days were totally dark; for the remaining
thirty days a faint light like our twilight glimmered during a part of
every twenty-four hours.

During the time of darkness little exploring can be done. Explorers are
obliged to stay on or near their ship and amuse themselves as best they
may until the sun shines again.

Can you fancy a night which lasts as long as ninety of our days? Think
of not seeing the sun for more than three months! These men on the
Advance suffered from a cold such as we know nothing about, and were
often hungry too. Many of them became ill.

Dr. Kane did everything in his power to buoy up their spirits. He was
wise enough to know that, if his men had nothing to do, they would
become homesick and despairing; so he planned work for all. Some made
clothing and boots of the furs and skins they had collected; others
made sledges and rope out of hides, or patched up corners of the brig
with moss to prevent the cold from entering.

Dr. Kane himself trained the dogs for the sledge journeys. He had
ten beautiful Newfoundland dogs which he harnessed to a low, light
sled called the “Little Willie.” In a short time these gentle, strong,
intelligent animals carried Kane on journeys around the ship with
ease. He drove them two abreast, in teams of four or six, guiding them
entirely by his voice.

With the Eskimo dogs, Kane was obliged to use other means. Eskimo dogs
are not easily managed. They are near relatives of the wolf, and share
the wolf’s nature. They are driven in teams of ten or twelve, and must
be guided mainly by the whip. Dr. Kane had to use a whip with a lash
six yards long, and a handle only sixteen inches in length. It required
a sort of “sleight of hand” movement to swing this long lash and hit
the right dog with it. Dr. Kane found this driving very lively exercise.


Sometimes Kane wanted to travel with a heavier load than the dogs could
draw. For this purpose he used a larger sledge, thirteen feet long and
four feet wide, upon which he could carry fourteen hundred pounds of
baggage. This sledge was called the “Faith,” and nine men were often
harnessed to it. Each man wore a shoulder belt or, as it was called, a
“rue-raddy.” A walrus-skin trace attached this rue-raddy to the sledge.

In this way heavy loads of provisions were drawn over the ice. Kane
stored these supplies along the route that he intended to take as soon
as the sun should shine again. By thus sending provisions ahead and
burying them, Kane hoped to be able to make the journey without fear of
starving; for his whole party could never have carried enough at once
to last during the time he expected to be gone.

On long expeditions where the men were obliged to remain away from the
ship all night, each man carried his bed with him. An Arctic bed is a
bag made of fur, into which one crawls, covering up all save one’s nose.

On one occasion some of the men delayed in returning from their trip,
and it was feared that they were lost. After waiting twenty days for
them to return, Kane harnessed four of his best Newfoundland dogs
to the “Little Willie” and started out to search for his missing
companions. He took but one man with him. The ice was full of cracks
and very dangerous. The dogs galloped swiftly along; whenever they came
to a fissure, over it they leaped and over flew the sledge also, simply
by reason of its rapid movement. At length the party came to a fissure
so wide that the dogs could not leap across it. They were going too
fast to stop or turn aside, and dogs and sledge were thrown into the
water. The two men, who had been running beside the sledge, quickly
cut the harness from the dogs. The faithful animals, freed from the
traces, sprang to the ice, and with their intelligent help the sledge
was dragged out.

Kane and his companion were wet to the skin with icy cold water, and
the temperature was below zero. What could prevent men and dogs from
freezing? But not a moment was wasted in thinking about what might
happen. They all started on a run for solid ice, and they ran so fast
that by the time a safe place was reached, they were quite warm.
Several days later they came upon the friends they were seeking. The
return to the ship was made more easily, although, while leaping a
fissure, one unlucky man was thrown into the water. The rest pulled him
out, none the worse for his cold bath.

The men on the Advance were delighted to see Kane and their lost
comrades again. They rejoiced because every one was safe. They had also
another reason for happiness, for the dreary night was passing away,
the twilight was growing longer and brighter, and day a day as long as
the night was coming. Soon after this Dr. Kane climbed to the top of a
high hill to see the sun. It was a hard climb, but who would not have
taken it for a first sight of the sun, after a night so long?

Each day the sun came and stayed longer, and with the sun came warmer
weather. At last the sun rose so high in the heavens that it could not
sink below the horizon at all. Then it shone, not only all day, but
also all night.




THE ESKIMOS



One morning in the spring, the deck watch ran into Dr. Kane’s cabin,
crying, “People hallooing ashore!” Dr. Kane hurried to the deck, and
through the gloom saw strange figures all around the harbor. Though
it was April, the sun had not yet risen high in the sky, and in the
twilight these odd figures seemed to be waving weapons.

Kane soon found that these people were the native Eskimos, and that
they were tossing their arms wildly about, as if in great excitement.
It is no wonder that they were excited, for they had never seen a white
man before; yet they showed no fear, and one of them came close to Kane.

This Eskimo was named Metek. He stood a head taller than Dr. Kane, and
was well built and strong, with a dark skin and black, piercing eyes.

Metek wore booted trousers of white bearskin. At the toe the boot ended
with the claw of the animal. His coat, or jumper, was of white and blue
fox fur, and a hood of the same fur was on his head. Around his neck
was tied a dirty, greasy strip of deerskin. At first the white men
thought this an ornament, Metek was so careful of it. Later, Dr. Kane
found that it was tied closely around his neck to keep out the air.

When an Eskimo is fully dressed in his furs, and his deerskin is tied
closely around the neck so that no air can enter, he is, as it were, in
a bag of fur. The heat from his body keeps him warm. As long as he is
incased in air-tight clothing, he is safe from the most severe weather.

All of the Eskimo party were invited to come aboard the Advance. They
were large, strong men, and many of them could hunt the white bear and
the walrus single-handed.

The Eskimos had with them fifty-six fine dogs, tied by deerskin traces
to their sledges, which were made of bone and lashed together by
leather strips. The runners were of polished ivory, from the tusks of
the walrus, and glistened like steel. The Eskimos’ weapons were knives,
which they carried in their boots, and lances, which were lashed on
their sledges. They had no wood for the handles of these weapons,
because no trees grow in this cold country. All of the handles were
made of bone. You would have thought these natives very rude indeed,
could you have seen how they behaved on Dr. Kane’s ship. They opened
all the doors and rummaged around in the dark corners. They opened
boxes, handling everything they saw, and putting all they could inside
their jumpers and boots. In fact, they stole so much that Dr. Kane and
his companions had to follow them continually and take the things out
of their hands.


At last the Eskimos became tired, and when the white men spread a
buffalo skin on the floor near the fire, they threw themselves upon it.
For supper each man had a large piece of raw walrus meat, from which he
ate until he was tired. Then he went to sleep with the raw meat lying
beside him. When he awoke he would seize his meat, eat more of it, then
drop off to sleep again. Many slept in a sitting position, with their
heads falling forward low on their breasts.

Dr. Kane made a treaty with these people. He bought all the walrus meat
they had, giving them needles, beads, and old cask staves for it. They
promised to bring Kane more food very soon, and also to lend him their
dogs for his journey to the north. Then Metek said they must go, and
it did not take them long to get ready. They harnessed the dogs to the
sledges quickly, jumped on, cracked their long sealskin whips, and off
they went, dashing over the ice at a speed of twenty miles an hour.

Some time later Metek again visited Rensselaer Harbor. This time Dr.
Kane decided to go with him to his hut, and bring back a load of walrus
meat. Kane and Metek traveled eight miles by sledge, with Metek’s
excellent team of twelve wild Eskimo dogs. They rode very swiftly over
the ice and snow, until at last Kane saw what looked like two dark
spots on the pure white surface. These spots were the entrances to two
Eskimo huts.

The Eskimo huts are built of large stones and are heavily sodded with
turf or moss. They are shaped like half of an egg, and the entrance is
a tunnel, through which the dwellers creep on their hands and knees.
The door is a slab of slate or ice. At this time the huts were buried
under the snow.

The natives rushed out to meet the travelers. They seemed delighted to
see Kane, but the cold soon drove them inside again. Kane and Metek
followed, crawling through a tunnel twelve feet in length, which led
them into the hut of one room about six by fifteen feet. It was crowded
with persons and served for all purposes. The women were cooking large
pieces of walrus meat over small lamps, and men and children were lying
about half-clothed, calling to one another with uncouth sounds. Others
lay stretched upon the floor sleeping.



The thermometer outside registered 30° below zero. Inside the hut the
temperature stood at 90°, nor was there any place for fresh air to
enter. Poor Dr. Kane was obliged to take off all his fur clothes like
the rest. Being very tired, he soon fell asleep, with an Eskimo boy for
a pillow, and a little Eskimo baby under his arm.

Dr. Kane slept well. When he awoke he was offered some breakfast of
boiled blubber. But, unluckily, he had seen the women cooking this, and
they were so careless and dirty that he could not touch it. Instead he
ate some pieces of frozen liver which he had brought with him. After
breakfast he started on a walrus hunt.




HUNTING IN THE ICY NORTH


The walrus has been called “the lion of the seas.” He is a huge
animal, often eighteen feet in length. His head is square, and his
cheeks and lips are covered with quills like bristles. From his face
also extend the tusks, which on the larger animals are often thirty
inches in length, and are prized as ivory. Altogether the walrus is a
fierce-looking creature, with a tough hide and an ugly temper.

Like the seal, the walrus has to come to the surface of the water to
breathe. So Dr. Kane and his Eskimo friends tried to find open water,
or, at least, a place where the ice was thin. The walrus has a habit
of bellowing as he lies on the ice, so that hunters are guided by this
strange and terrible sound. Every few minutes the hunters took off
their fur hoods to listen.

At last a large walrus rose through the ice, breaking it with a loud
crash. Just as the animal rose out of the water, Dr. Kane and the
Eskimos fell at full length, flat on the ice. As soon as the head of
the walrus sank below the water again, the hunters jumped up and ran
toward the hole, where they knew it would soon reappear. Every time the
head of the animal was seen coming to the surface, the hunters would
fall to the ice or hide themselves behind hummocks. In this way now
running, now hiding they at last came near enough to the walrus to
throw their harpoon into its body. Tied to the harpoon was a long rope
of walrus hide, which uncoiled rapidly as an Eskimo ran away to solid
ice with one end in his hand. When at a safe distance, he drove a spike
of bone into the ice and fastened the end of the rope to it.


Meanwhile, the powerful walrus had been struggling in the water,
breaking up the ice around with a frightful noise. The Eskimos
tightened the rope whenever they could, and again the walrus rose and
threw his powerful body against the ice, breaking it away; now they had
to work fast. First one, and then another, would seize the spike and
run with it and the rope to a safe place. In this way they tired the
animal out, and were able to give him a second wound.

During this battle the walrus roared hideously, using his tusks
fiercely. He rushed toward the men and tore away great pieces of ice
with his tusks, but though he received many lance wounds, he never
once showed fear or made any attempt to run away.

When the great beast was dead, the Eskimos drew it up on the ice, the
flesh was divided, and Dr. Kane packed his share upon his sledge. Then
with his own four dogs he set out to return to the brig. He himself
ran most of the way home, because the dogs had difficulty in drawing
the heavy load. The crew were glad to see Kane once more, and glad,
too, for what he had brought. During the winter fresh meat had been so
scarce that many of the men became sick with the terrible disease which
salt meat produces.

Toward spring Dr. Kane and Hans went hunting for seals. The seal comes
up under the ice where it is thinnest, and scratches a hole through it
with his sharp claws. Then he hollows out the snow above and makes an
opening just large enough to allow the air to pass through; this is his
breathing hole. It is so small that often one cannot see it, but the
seal makes a blowing noise in breathing, and the hunters have learned
to listen for this sound.

Kane and Hans often sat many hours on a block of ice beside a hole,
waiting for a seal. When the seal appeared, one of them quickly thrust
a spear into him and usually killed him. Then Hans would fasten a thong
of walrus hide about the neck of the seal and drag him away, across the
ice, to the ship. The meat of the seal is delicious, and great was the
rejoicing among the men when a hunting expedition was successful.

When the sun begins to shine, the Eskimos hunt in a different way.
They know that the seals like to creep out of the water and lie on the
ice in the sunshine. The hunters take with them a sledge with a white
screen fastened across it, which they push along in front of them,
the screen hiding their bodies from view. A hole in the middle of
the screen gives them a chance to see ahead, and provides an opening
through which they can point a rifle. When the hunter sees in the
distance the bodies of seals lying on the edge of the ice, he pushes
his sledge toward them. So quietly and so steadily does he move, that
the seals do not become alarmed. They lie still, watching the strange
object, until the hunter is near enough to shoot.


When the summer comes it is still easier to hunt seals, for their eyes
are blinded by the bright sun shining on the snow and ice, and the
hunters can often walk within gunshot of them without using the screen.

Kane’s party had plenty of fresh seal meat to eat in the summer time.
From the fat of each animal they obtained about five gallons of oil,
which they used in their lamps. The fur made warm coats and trousers,
while the hides were used for covering the boats and for whiplashes.
Dr. Kane learned not to waste any part of the seal’s body; even the
bones could be used for hooks and for the handles of tools.

There is another animal in the cold regions which hunters are eager to
slay. This is the large, fierce polar bear. He has a flat head, a long
neck, and smooth, white fur. He is always found near the sea, where he
pursues seals both in the water and on ice, and preys upon fishes and
birds.


Kane had many a chase over the ice after the bears. When a bear track
is seen on the ice or snow, the dogs are immediately set upon the
trail. The hunters follow the dogs quickly and silently. When they come
within sight of the bear, the hunter releases the dogs from their
harness, so that they may surround the bear and cut off his retreat.
The dogs are carefully trained not to fight the bear, but to annoy
him. They run around him in circles and prevent him from making his
escape. The bear, when brought to bay, rises on his haunches, seizes
the nearest dog in his teeth and tosses him to one side. The dogs
instinctively relax their muscles in falling, and are seldom hurt; they
usually rise immediately and return to the conflict. In this way the
bear is detained until the hunters arrive.

Sometimes two hunters engage one animal, striking at him with their
lances. Two men can easily kill a bear. As one man pretends to thrust
his lance into the right side, the animal turns, and tries to protect
himself with his fore paws. Then the other hunter gives him his death
wound in the left side.

A man must have a great deal of skill and courage to be able to kill a
polar bear single-handed. The single hunter provokes the bear to follow
him by running as if trying to escape. The bear comes down on all four
feet and prepares to pursue the man. With a rapid jump to the right,
the hunter runs back to his first position. The bear turns in the same
way to follow, when the hunter skillfully plunges his lance into the
left side just below the shoulder. Even then the most expert hunter
sometimes has to leave his spear in the animal’s side and run for his
life, though a wound given in that spot is usually fatal. The Eskimos
hold in highest esteem the hunter who can kill a bear single-handed.

The flesh of the bear is used for food, and the fur for clothing. Dr.
Kane killed so many of these animals that he actually tired of the
sport.




HOME AGAIN



Dr. Kane and his companions passed two winters in the ice regions,
living in a place farther north than any explorers had ever lived in
before. Few Arctic explorers at that time had passed two winter seasons
in the ice.

During the cold months the average temperature at Rensselaer harbor
stood at -29°, during the summer months at 33°. When you consider that
the summer was colder than the average winter in the vicinity of New
York City, you will understand in part what were the severities of the
climate that these men endured. The first winter, with the long, dark
night, was dismal and gloomy, and there was a great deal of sickness
and suffering among the men. When summer came, Kane hoped that his ship
might be released from the ice. He waited a long time, but the ice did
not thaw, and again winter came upon them suddenly. It was then too
late for the men to escape to the south; so a second winter was passed
on board the Advance. It was a sad time: many of the men died and
many suffered terribly from disease and want of food.

When the spring of 1855 came, Kane again hoped that the ice around the
brig would thaw and leave her free, for he was a good commander and
could not bear to desert his ship. At last it became certain that the
ice would not break away, and that the Advance could not be released
that spring.

Then Kane decided to leave the ship and try to reach some settlement
on the Greenland coast. The men promised to follow him and to obey him
in all things. They knew the danger of the journey, but they also knew
that a third winter on the Advance would probably cost them their
lives. At this time the company had provisions enough to last them
thirty-six days. These provisions were packed in small boats, ready to
be dragged over the ice to open water. All the baggage and the articles
necessary for use in cooking, eating, and sleeping, were at last ready
to be placed on the sledges. Four of the men were so ill that they also
had to be carried.

Each man in the party wore a woolen underdress and an Eskimo suit of
fur. The men’s boots were of their own make, fashioned of canvas and
lined with walrus hide. Inside of these boots each man wore another
pair, made of carpeting which had been taken from the cabin of the
Advance. To save themselves from becoming snow-blind, they wore large
goggles, made by cutting a small slit in a piece of wood. Some had
entire masks made of gutta percha.

It was May when Kane and his companions bade farewell to the brig and
set out to cover the thirteen hundred miles of ice and water which lay
between them and the place where they hoped to find a settlement. Yet
they did not despair. The men who were able to work, dragged sledges
and boats as far as the spot selected for a camp. Here they built a
hut or erected a tent for the sick, making them as comfortable as they
could. Then the workers went back over the same route and brought along
the baggage, which had been left behind because they could not carry it
all at one time. Thus they were obliged to travel back over each day’s
march, and each following day to bring ahead the baggage that could
not be carried the first time.


It was slow progress, but they kept on bravely. Often they were delayed
by heavy snowstorms. As they could not drag the sledges through the
deep drifts, they crept into their tents and slept, waiting for the
storm to pass away. When it became possible for them to travel again,
they started out, plowing their way through the snow, often so tired
that they could hardly lift their feet. Sometimes they journeyed over
thin ice, and many a man fell through and just escaped drowning.

It was near the middle of June when the party reached the shores of
Baffin bay and began to launch the boats. The launching took a long
time, for the surf beat high along the shore, and great masses of
drifting ice were dashed about.

A severe gale arose, and the boats were nearly crushed in the ice, but
a day later they succeeded in putting off from the shore. The Faith
led the way, with Captain Kane aboard. Then followed the Red Eric,
with most of the provisions, and last of all, the Hope. These three
small boats were now embarked on a sea in which the hardiest whaling
vessel might easily founder.

The party were all hopeful until provisions were exhausted; then
the stoutest hearts failed. Even Kane despaired of ever reaching a
settlement, but he was too brave a leader to allow his men to know
this, and he encouraged them in every way possible. The men grew so
weak from want of food that they were scarcely able to guide the boats.

The ice had knocked holes in each of the boats, and they had to be
constantly baled to keep them from sinking. When everything looked
darkest, one of the party saw a large seal floating on a piece of ice
a short distance away. The half-starved men became so excited that
they could hardly handle the oars. Every preparation was made to steal
quietly toward the animal, which seemed to be asleep. Stockings were
placed over the oars to deaden the sound, and a man named Peterson, who
was thought to be the best shot of the party, was stationed in the bow
with the rifle.

Silently the oarsmen guided the boat toward the piece of ice where
the seal was lying. When they were almost within rifle shot, the seal
lifted its head and saw the boat. The men were filled with despair as
they saw the animal move toward the sea as if to plunge in. They all
looked anxiously at Peterson, for their lives depended upon him. Poor
Peterson was trembling with nervousness and weakness. His hands shook,
but with a great effort he steadied himself and fired. Instantly the
seal fell over on its side.

With shouts of delight the men pushed the boat to the ice, climbed upon
it, and seized the animal. They were half mad with joy, and ran over
the ice, crying and laughing, and waving their knives. Soon every man
was eating raw blubber and licking his bloody fingers with relish. It
was a savage meal, but starved men may be pardoned for being fierce.


Other seals were shot, and soon land was sighted. Kane directed the
course of the boats southward along the coast, and a few nights later
the men landed on the rocks for rest and sleep.

One morning Peterson, in great excitement, awoke Kane and told him
that he had just seen a native in a kayak, searching among the rocks
along the coast for eider down. Peterson knew him, and called to him:
“Don’t you know me? I am Carl Peterson.” “No,” the Eskimo answered;
“Peterson’s wife says he is dead.” Then he paddled away very fast as if
in fear.

A few days later Kane and his companions were rowing along in their
boats, when the mast of a vessel loomed in the distance before them.
Peterson burst into sobs in his excitement, and in broken English and
Danish exclaimed, “It’s the Upernavik oil boat!” Indeed, it was the
vessel that goes once a year to Upernavik for a supply of blubber
to make oil. Soon the vessel came near enough for the crews to talk
to each other. You may be sure that Captain Kane’s party wanted to
know what had happened during their long absence from home. The first
question Kane asked was whether Franklin had been found.

The sailors told him that some traces of Franklin had been seen,
but that it was now supposed that he and all of his companions had
perished. This news made Kane very sad, for no one knew better than he
what suffering Franklin and his men must have endured.

After learning all that these men could tell him, Kane journeyed on.
After another halt for sleep, and another long pull at the oars, the
men heard the welcome sound of barking dogs at the settlement.

The people of Upernavik were very kind to Kane and his men. They fitted
up a loft for them to sleep in and shared their stores in a liberal
manner.


A Danish vessel, starting for home early in September, took Kane and
his party on board, promising to land them at the Shetland islands. On
the 11th the vessel reached Disco, where another steamer was sighted in
the distance. As she drew near Kane’s men saw with joy that she carried
the American flag. The vessel proved to be a relief ship sent out by
the United States to search for Captain Kane. The men, under command of
Lieutenant Hartstene, greeted Kane and his companions with cheers and
took them aboard. The Faith, which had done such excellent service,
was taken on board also, and may now be seen at the Brooklyn navy yard.
Though Kane had been compelled to leave the Advance in the ice,
had lost his equipment, and had found no trace of Sir John Franklin,
yet his expedition was by no means a failure. The geographical and
scientific value of the knowledge which he gained during his stay in
the icy North was very great.

Large tracts of country, before unknown, had been discovered and
surveyed; the coast of Greenland had been explored as far north as
latitude 81°, and the great glacier of Humboldt, with a sea face
forty-five miles in length, discovered. New land to the north of
Humboldt glacier was also discovered and named Washington Land.


A great channel to the northwest, free from ice, was supposed to lead
into an open polar sea. The theory of an open polar sea, however, has
not yet been proved.

Grinnell Land was discovered, and a survey made of the lands bordering
on Smith sound. Valuable facts in relation to the tides, climates,
and plants were compiled, and a study was made of the Eskimos of Smith
sound. Kane received gold medals from the Queen of England, the Royal
Geographical Society of London, the American Congress, and the New York
Legislature.

But Kane’s health, never of the best, now began to fail. He went to
England, but while there grew rapidly worse. He then sailed for Havana,
hoping that the balmy climate would benefit him; but it was too late
for him to recover his health, and he died at Havana, February 16,
1857.




NORDENSKJÖLD AND THE NORTHEAST PASSAGE



The next man to journey into the frozen North was Adolf Erik
Nordenskjöld.[2] He was born in Finland and educated at its university;
but when he was about twenty-two years of age he fell under the
suspicion of the Russian government and was compelled to leave his
native country. Nordenskjöld then took up his residence in Sweden, and
in 1858 began his career as an Arctic explorer by going on a journey to
Spitzbergen. Five voyages in the Arctic regions followed, during one of
which Nordenskjöld visited Greenland and made an inland journey over
the ice.

[2] Pronounced Norʹ den sheld.

The interior of Greenland is believed to be one vast glacier, moving
slowly to the sea. This movement causes the formation of deep chasms
and clefts which are almost bottomless, and which prevent the traveler
from making rapid progress.

Notwithstanding the dangers and hardships of the journey, Nordenskjöld
advanced thirty miles over the glacier to a height of twenty-two
hundred feet above the level of the sea. Upon returning to the coast,
he visited Disco Fiord, and then went home to Sweden.

About the time that Nordenskjöld reached home, the Swedish government
decided to send a sledge expedition from Spitzbergen to the North
Pole. The nation which should first succeed in reaching the pole would
gain the admiration of the civilized world, and Sweden hoped to win
this glory.

The government began at once to look for a leader for this expedition,
and very naturally selected Nordenskjöld, who had already made Arctic
voyages and had thereby gained experience which made him a valuable
commander.

The party was sent out in 1872, but did not succeed in advancing far
toward the pole; yet the results of the journey were important, for
the island of Spitzbergen was explored and a good deal of scientific
information was acquired.

When Professor Nordenskjöld returned from Spitzbergen, he gave his
attention to the northern coast of Asia. Some few whalers had sailed
round Nova Zembla and entered the Kara sea, but the idea prevailed
that this sea was always full of ice and dangerous to navigate.
Nordenskjöld, however, made up his mind to explore the Kara sea and
sail along the coast of Siberia to the mouth of the Yenisei river.

Supported by Mr. Oscar Dickson of Gothenburg, Nordenskjöld sailed on
the Proven. He first visited Nova Zembla, and then, passing through
Jugor strait, entered the Kara sea, which was entirely free from
ice, and reached the Yenisei river without much difficulty. During
this journey, he and his assistants made valuable collections of the
products of the animal, mineral, and vegetable kingdoms. They succeeded
in increasing the number of known insects to be found in Nova Zembla
from seven to one hundred, and in the Kara sea, which had been thought
barren, they found five hundred species of animal life. Upon reaching
the mouth of the Yenisei river, Nordenskjöld sent the Proven home,
while he and a few chosen companions proceeded up the river in a small
boat.

It was summer time and the tundras were covered with a scanty
vegetation. The tundras are the plains of Russia and Siberia which lie
between the tree limit and the Arctic ocean. Most persons think of them
as entirely barren; in some parts the soil is fertile and would be
suitable for cultivation, if the climate permitted. In the winter they
are frozen, but in the summer they afford pasture to herds of reindeer.

All Siberia is colder than other places in the same latitude. One of
the best-known cold regions on the earth is in Siberia, in latitude 67°
54ʹ N. Here the average temperature of the winter months is often as
low as -53°, while some days the thermometer falls to -75° and -85° F.

The tundras are inhabited by a tribe of Siberian Indians called
Samoyeds. These natives travel about during the summer, hunting and
fishing, setting up their skin tents wherever they find game plentiful.
They usually have with them a large number of dogs, which they use for
sledging in winter and drawing boats against the current during the
summer. The dogs run alongshore and drag the boats after them up the
river, very much as mules draw our canal boats. The Samoyeds are small
of stature and very dirty. Their hair is matted and unkempt, and they
wear clothes of skin, with sometimes a bright-colored cotton shirt over
the skin blouse.


These people worship idols, which look like dolls made of skin, and
which they always carry with them on their travels. Some of these
idols, or gods, have faces of brass or copper, and some carry bows made
of forged iron. The Samoyeds worship by making pilgrimages to certain
spots, where they offer sacrifices and make vows; they eat the flesh of
their victims, and besmear their idols with the blood. At these sacred
places there are piles of bones and skulls of the reindeer, with the
horns. Near by are also found quantities of old iron, and hundreds of
small wooden sticks, carved to look like human faces.


It was to this Samoyed country that the Russian government used to
send her criminals, and there are many exiles living there now; but
the natives treat them very kindly and never inquire into the cause of
their banishment.

As Nordenskjöld and his companions traveled on, they saw large masses
of driftwood lying along the shores of the river. This driftwood
is carried by the current out into the Arctic ocean, and is often
picked up by explorers on the North American and Greenland shores, a
fact which seems to prove that the ocean currents carry it across the
polar sea. At length the travelers entered the region from which this
driftwood comes. This is the great forest belt of Siberia, the largest
in the world, extending, with but little interruption, from the Ural
mountains to the Sea of Okhotsk. It consists mainly of enormous pines,
growing thickly, and untouched by the ax of the lumberman. Many trees
are withered with age; others are fallen, and their decayed trunks are
covered with mosses and lichens. The wilderness is so vast that a man
might wander hundreds of miles without meeting a human being.

Beyond the forest belt lie the fertile plains, which are partly
cultivated and which supply Europe with wheat. Nordenskjöld visited
these plains, or steppes, and then proceeded homeward overland, by way
of St. Petersburg. The next year, 1876, Nordenskjöld made a second
voyage from Sweden to the mouth of the Yenisei river, proving beyond a
doubt that there is a sea route from the Atlantic to the mouth of the
great Siberian river. For this achievement he was regarded by Russia as
a national benefactor and publicly thanked.

Nordenskjöld hoped that the rich produce of central Asia, the gold,
silver, copper, iron, and coal, the ivory, timber, wheat, and furs,
might now be shipped through the rivers to the Arctic ocean and thence
to Europe. The dangers of navigation through the ice, however, are
so great that it is doubtful whether this route can ever become an
important one for purposes of commerce.

Nordenskjöld was not yet satisfied with the work he had accomplished
in the Arctic regions. He longed to do what Arctic explorers had been
trying to do for three hundred years; namely, to find a northeast
passage to the Pacific. Supported by King Oscar of Sweden and by Mr.
Oscar Dickson of Gothenburg, Nordenskjöld sailed from Tromsö in his
ship, the Vega, July 21, 1878, accompanied by three other vessels.
Two of the vessels left him at the mouth of the Yenisei and proceeded
up that river, while the other, the Lena, accompanied the Vega
eastward. The fog caused the sailors more trouble than the ice, but one
day the mist rose, showing a dark ice-free cape. Then Nordenskjöld knew
that he had succeeded in reaching the northernmost point of the Old
World, Cape Tcheliuskin (Chelyuskin).

More than a century earlier, Lieutenant Tcheliuskin, a Russian officer,
had succeeded in reaching this most northern point of Siberia,
traveling overland by sledge. Many explorers had tried to reach Cape
Tcheliuskin by water, but up to this time all had failed. Nordenskjöld
and his companions were very proud of their success. Flags were
hoisted, salutes fired, and the officers drank toasts in honor of the
occasion.


A heap of stones, called a cairn, was erected on shore as a memorial,
and soon the two vessels started again on their journey eastward. When
the mouth of the Lena river was reached, the ship Lena headed toward
it and, after exploring the river, returned home.

After parting from the Lena, the Vega continued her voyage to the
New Siberian islands and thence along the coast of Asia, nearly to
Bering strait. When within a day’s journey of the strait, the Vega
was beset in the ice; and, much to Nordenskjöld’s regret, he was
obliged to pass the winter at the very entrance to the Pacific ocean.
Had he been a few hours earlier, he might have forced his way through
the ice and completed the northeast passage in 1878. But in that case
we should never have known all the interesting facts which he has told
us about the strange people who inhabit the northeastern peninsula of
Asia.

These people are a Siberian tribe, called Tchuktches.[3] There are
two divisions of the tribe, the reindeer Tchuktches and the coast
Tchuktches. The former own herds of reindeer, and travel about,
pitching their tents wherever the pasture is good. They also trade in
skins, hides, furs, and whalebones with the most northern Indian tribes
of America and with the Russian fur dealers, often making long journeys
for this purpose. The coast Tchuktches live along the shore, and hunt
and fish for their living.

[3] Pronounced Chookʹ chez.

The reindeer Tchuktches were encamped near the Vega’s winter
quarters. As soon as these people saw a strange ship anchored off the
coast, they launched a large skin boat very skillfully, and men, women,
and children jumped in and rowed through the thin, newly formed ice to
the vessel. They climbed aboard and seemed as pleased to see the white
men as if they had been old friends. The deck of the Vega became a
reception room, for not a day passed without a visit from the natives.


The Tchuktches are a strong, hardy race, but very lazy. Nothing but
want of food induces them to work. Many are tall, with brown skin and
raven-black hair, and a large nose like that of our North American
Indians. Some have high cheek bones and slanting eyes, like the
Mongolian race. They live in tents, which are made double to insure
warmth during the winter. The inner tent is the sleeping room. The
framework is of wood, and over this are spread thick reindeer skins.
The floor is a walrus skin, and at night extra reindeer skins are
thrown down like a carpet. The inner tent is heated by three train-oil
lamps, which, together with the heat from the bodies of the many human
beings who are packed in this small space, raise the temperature in the
tent to such a degree that even in the most severe weather, the natives
strip off all their clothing. In the winter they live, cook, and work
in the inner tent; the outer tent, used in summer, is built around the
inner tent. The skins of the outer tent are older and thinner than
those of the inner one.

The Tchuktche women work very hard. They take care of the children,
cook, sew, and keep the tent in order. They receive the game and cut it
up, in winter in the tent and in summer on the beach. They help with
the fishing; they tan the hides and prepare thread from the sinews.
The men provide the food, which they obtain by fishing, hunting, and
trading. But in and around the tent they do nothing but put their
hunting tools in order, or play with the children.


Tchuktche children are healthy and hearty. They often cross from one
tent to another entirely naked, when the weather is bitterly cold. The
children are petted and treated very kindly. The older people never
utter an angry word to them, or punish them. For playthings they have
dolls, bows, and windmills with sails. Tchuktche children are very
well-behaved. A little girl fell down the ship’s stairs head first, and
received so severe a blow that her hearing was nearly destroyed, yet
she scarcely uttered a cry. A small boy of four years once visited the
ship. He was so wrapped up in furs that he looked like a ball and could
hardly move. He fell into a ditch which had been cut in the ice on the
deck, and could not get out. The small Tchuktche did not make a sound,
but waited patiently until some one saw him lying there and rescued
him.

When the ice became solid, the natives came on their dog sleds from
villages far away. Sometimes they brought skins and whalebones to
exchange for tobacco and brandy, but they obtained very little of the
latter from the men on the Vega. As winter advanced, the natives’
provisions gave out. Then they gathered around the ship at the time
when they knew the crew were at dinner, and begged for food so hard
that one day the cook himself came out with a large kettle full of meat
soup. The Tchuktches seized it like starving animals and bailed it out
with spoons, empty tin cans, and even with their hands. Nordenskjöld
gave them all the food he could spare, but in spite of his kindness the
plump little babies grew thin and hollow-eyed. One day the Tchuktche
hunters killed a polar bear and several seals. Then begging ceased for
a few days, and they rested from hunting and lived on the fat of the
land, without any thought of the future.


A few days later a procession of Tchuktches was again seen, coming in
single file over the ice toward the ship, each man carrying a piece of
ice on his shoulder. This he gave to the cook, begging for something
to eat in return; and you may be sure that all the food that could be
spared was given to these poor people.

One morning a number of men approached the ship, dragging a dog sledge
on which a man lay so quietly that Nordenskjöld thought he must be
ill or dead. To his surprise, when the sledge reached the side of
the vessel, the man climbed rapidly to the deck and saluted. He then
informed Nordenskjöld in broken Russian that he was the great chief of
the Tchuktches, and, as a mark of his high rank, he had been drawn over
the ice by men instead of dogs.

This man’s name was Menka. He gave Nordenskjöld two roasts of reindeer
meat, and in return received some tobacco and a woolen shirt. Finding
that Menka was going to a Russian town some distance away, Nordenskjöld
asked him to carry a letter to the Russian authorities there, as he
wanted to let King Oscar know where he was. Menka consented, and
Nordenskjöld wrote the letter and gave it to him. Whether Menka
misunderstood or not, no one knows; but when he reached shore he
assembled the Tchuktches, opened the letter, and, holding it upside
down, gravely read it in his own language to his admiring audience. His
hearers thought him very learned indeed.

The next day the great chief again visited the Vega, but no one
mentioned the letter for fear of hurting his feelings. Menka doubtless
meant no harm. The Tchuktches seem to have been very democratic in
their sentiments; they refused to admit that Menka was their chief,
saying that they were just as good as he was.

When Christmas came, some of the whites persuaded the Tchuktches to
bring them a load of willows from the valleys in the south. They took
a piece of wood for the stem and, tying on the willow bushes for
branches, called it a Christmas tree, and decorated it with flags,
colored papers, and wax lights. A box of Christmas presents had been
placed on board by their friends at home; this was opened and the
presents distributed. Then the men danced a polka around the tree and
drank the good health of all their friends.

The spring came slowly, and time dragged, though the men were very busy
collecting specimens and noting the curious changes in the atmosphere
and vegetation. It seemed as if the ice would never break up. On July
18, 1879, Nordenskjöld and his companions sat down to dinner as usual.
During the meal the vessel, which had been motionless for months, moved
slightly. It was a moment of intense excitement, and everybody rushed
on deck. The ice was moving! It did not take long for the engineer to
light the boiler fires, and in two hours the Vega was free and on
her way to Bering strait. There was not much time to say farewell to
the Tchuktches, who gathered on the shore and watched the departure of
their white friends.

The Vega encountered but little ice, and at 11 o’clock on the morning
of July 20, 1879, she sailed into the middle of the strait that
connects the Arctic and Pacific oceans. Salutes were fired and flags
raised. The northeastern passage was accomplished. In a single voyage
Nordenskjöld had succeeded in doing what Arctic explorers had been
trying to achieve for three hundred years.

On his way home Nordenskjöld visited Japan. He remained there two
weeks, collecting facts which contributed a great deal to our knowledge
of that country. When Nordenskjöld reached home, King Oscar made him a
baron, and commander of the Order of the North Star. The remainder of
his life was spent in scientific work. In August, 1901, this great man
passed away, leaving behind him a lasting fame.




VOYAGE OF THE JEANNETTE



During the same month, July, 1879, that Nordenskjöld completed the
northeast passage by sailing through Bering strait into the Pacific
ocean, an expedition sailed from San Francisco northward through Bering
sea on a voyage of discovery in Arctic regions.

This expedition was sent out by Mr. James Gordon Bennett, the owner of
the New York Herald. Mr. Bennett bought and equipped a vessel, which
he called the Jeannette. By special act of Congress, the Jeannette
was conducted by the United States Navy, with the rights and privileges
of a government vessel.

The command was offered to Lieutenant George W. De Long and he
accepted, after the expedition was made national. De Long, it is said,
believed that an expedition might reach the North Pole by following a
branch of the Japan Current through Bering strait and into the Arctic
ocean, a route which had never been attempted.

Many explorers who had made trips to the Arctic regions observed that
the ice always drifted toward the southeast, and entered the Atlantic
ocean between the islands of Spitzbergen and Greenland. It was thought
that there must be a strong southeast current to carry this pack of
floating ice always in the same direction. Instead of trying to sail
northward between Spitzbergen and Greenland, where they must meet that
great ice pack, these men said: “Let us enter the Arctic ocean through
Bering strait and sail northward toward the pole. If the ship is caught
in the ice pack, she will drift along with the pack into the Atlantic
ocean. Perhaps the drift will carry the ship across the North Pole.”

De Long sailed from San Francisco on the Jeannette, July 8, 1879.
It was a beautiful sunny day, and many vessels were gathered in San
Francisco bay to attend the departure. Guns were fired, flags waved,
and cheers given with a will for the brave men who were going to risk
their lives in the search for the North Pole.

The Jeannette sailed away through the Pacific ocean. She crossed
Bering sea in a heavy gale, and passed through Bering strait in safety.
After rounding East cape, the watch in the crow’s nest saw some rude
huts along the beach. They were the homes of the Tchuktches, the
Siberian race which inhabits this peninsula.

The ice alongshore prevented De Long from landing, and the natives,
seeing this, launched a large skin boat and went out to the ship. The
Indian chief went with them, and they all boarded the Jeannette.
These people could furnish very little information, because no one on
board knew their language and they could speak no English. But De Long
learned, by means of signs and motions, that Nordenskjöld, with the
Vega, had wintered to the northwest of them, and that a few weeks
before he had passed out through Bering strait.

The Tchuktches had a delightfully original way of asking for liquor.
They bent their elbows and uttered the word “Schnapps.” But they did
not get anything to drink, and soon returned to the shore.

The next day some men from the Jeannette succeeded in landing. They
found the Tchuktches living in tents made of skin, and very dirty.
They ate the raw flesh of the walrus and drank the blood. Their chief
wore a red calico gown as a mark of his high rank. It was a cool
garment for so cold a place, but the natives do not feel the cold as
keenly as we should.

After sailing along the Siberian coast for a short distance, the
Jeannette bade farewell to land and started on her perilous journey.

In the Arctic regions the ice is divided into what is known as young
ice and the pack. Young ice is that which is forming all the time.
It is thin at first, and vessels can usually cut their way through.
The pack is the old ice which has been formed for many years, and is
composed of large pieces, called floes, which are often thirty or forty
feet thick and extend over a great surface both above and below the
water.

The floes sometimes close up and float together as a pack, squeezing
in everything between them. Sometimes they separate, leaving channels
of water between. The pack floats with the wind and the current, and
there is little chance of escape from it. If a ship is caught in the
ice pack, it must float with it until a storm or some other change of
weather breaks up the pack. When a ship is strong enough to resist the
pressure of the ice pack, there is some chance of escape in the spring,
but so tremendous is the power of the ice that Arctic voyagers avoid
the pack if possible.

It seems to have been De Long’s intention deliberately to enter the
pack and drift with it, for when, on September 6, he saw an opening
between the Siberian and the American packs, he slipped in. At first
the Jeannette pushed her way bravely, but after a few hours she was
unable to proceed, and soon she was frozen in solidly.


To the southwest lay Herald island, which the men attempted to explore.
Taking a dog sledge, they traveled to within six miles of the beach,
where they found open water, so that they were obliged to return to the
ship without setting foot on land. They found the ship drifting with
the ice, and in danger of being crushed between the huge masses which
surrounded her. Thundering noises from far away could be heard as the
blocks of ice ground and grated together. At times the ice separated
near the ship, leaving it in clear water. Again, the pack closed up
about the stanch little vessel, which was like an eggshell at the mercy
of enormous blocks of floating ice.

But all this time the Jeannette was drifting, and at length she came
in sight of Wrangel Land. Before De Long lost sight of this land, he
satisfied himself that it was an island, and not a part of Greenland
as some explorers had supposed.

On November 10 the black Arctic night began, which lasted until January
25. The bitterness of the cold during this long period of darkness is
inconceivable. The surface water was usually at a temperature of 29°
F., the freezing point of salt water.

Notwithstanding their discomforts, the men followed a regular routine.
At seven o’clock in the morning all on board were called and the fires
were started in the galleys. At nine o’clock the explorers ate their
breakfast. From eleven until one o’clock every man took his gun and
went out on the ice to exercise. At three in the afternoon dinner
was served, and the galley fires were put out in order to save coal.
Between seven and eight o’clock tea was made. The crew lived on pork
and beans, salt beef, and canned goods. Sometimes, when the hunters
were successful, they had the meat of the seal, bear, or walrus. For
amusements there were theatricals and a navigation class.

For one year and nine months the Jeannette floated in the pack, at
the mercy of wind and tide. The coldest weather came in February, when
the thermometer registered 58° below zero. In spite of the windings
and turnings of their course, the general direction was toward the
northwest. De Long trusted to the strength of his ship to withstand the
pressure of the ice, and float across the pole out into the Atlantic
ocean. At length, on May 17, 1881, land was sighted. It proved to be
an island not indicated on the chart of that region. De Long therefore
claimed it as a discovery, and named it Jeannette island. Another
island was discovered not far away, and called Henrietta.

A sledge party under Melville was sent out from the ship to explore
this island. The ice over which they traveled consisted of large
blocks that floated rapidly and were constantly changing their
position. Sometimes the men were obliged to jump into the water and
swim from one block to another. The dogs were almost useless; they
refused to jump, and tried to run away. The men pushed them into the
water, and then they had to swim for their lives. This seems cruel
treatment, but Arctic exploration means severe suffering for all who
engage in it, and the help of the dogs was absolutely necessary.

Henrietta island was rocky and ice-capped, not in itself a very
valuable possession for the United States of America; yet the Stars and
Stripes were set up there, and a square copper case, containing copies
of the New York Herald and a record of the voyage, was placed in a
cairn. Then the sledge party returned to the ship. The Jeannette was
in dire distress, for the ice around her, now rapidly breaking up, was
by turns receding and closing in. Every time it closed in, it pressed
against her sides with tremendous force, so that her timbers fairly
creaked.

But brave Captain De Long would not leave his ship until he was quite
certain that she was going to sink, and her hold was full of water
before he gave orders to abandon her. Then the crew had to work with
desperate haste to transfer provisions, tents, and boats to a safe
place on the ice. At four o’clock in the morning of June 13, the
Jeannette sank to the bottom of the Arctic ocean. The ice closed over
the place where the little vessel had endured such terrific grinding
for twenty-one months, and only a cabin chair and a few pieces of wood
remained to mark the spot.

Imagine the condition of the men left on the ice so many miles from
land. But they worked with calm courage to arrange their provisions and
all the articles which were needful for camping on the sledges, and
four days after the Jeannette had sunk, the retreat across the ice
began.

This march was one of the most difficult ever undertaken. In one day
the travelers could cover a distance of only a mile, or at most a mile
and a half. Thirteen times they were compelled to go over the road,
seven times with loads, six times without, traveling a distance of
twenty-six miles in order to cover an advance of two miles. Many of the
party were taken ill and had to be carried by their companions.

At the end of the week, De Long found that the ice over which they were
traveling had floated northwest faster than they had traveled south;
consequently the party was twenty-seven miles farther away from the
Siberian coast than when they started. De Long kept this disheartening
fact a secret from his men, lest they should despair.

On and on they traveled, day after day, until at last a dim line of
land came into view; it proved to be a new island, with rocky shores
and steep sides. It was a difficult task to cross the channel of water
which separated the ice pack from this bleak coast, but Captain De Long
ordered all his men to attempt the crossing. They raised the American
flag and took possession of the island in the name of the President of
the United States. This land De Long called Bennett island. Thousands
of birds were found among the rocks, and the men had a refreshing feast
after their weeks of weary work. The sides of Bennett island were bold
and steep, and landslides occurred several times.

It was thought best to continue the journey by water. There were three
boats, and a part of the supplies was placed in each boat. De Long
commanded one, Lieutenant Chipps another, and Engineer Melville the
third. When the New Siberian islands came in sight, the voyagers knew
that they were nearing the mouth of the Lena river. This large stream
flows across Siberia into the Arctic ocean. Its banks are usually
occupied by tribes of Indians, who remain there during the summer
season to fish and hunt. It was encouraging to know that land was so
near, and the weary travelers kept bravely on, working with all their
strength to steer through the masses of ice. It seemed as if two new
perils sprang up for every danger escaped. In a heavy gale Lieutenant
Chipps’s boat went down, and De Long and Melville lost sight of each
other. Melville at length succeeded in guiding his boat to the mouth of
the Lena river.

The country appeared to be deserted, and it seemed probable that they
had escaped from drowning, only to perish from cold and starvation. But
after they had traveled some distance up the river, and were just about
to give up in despair, they met some natives.

Melville ordered the natives to spread the report of the two missing
boats wherever they went. Two of them were sent with dog teams as a
searching party to the different towns on the delta. After thirteen
days they returned with tidings of the missing crews. They had met two
men of Captain De Long’s party, Noros and Nindemann, who had succeeded
in making their way to a deserted fishing station; but they were in
a pitiable condition. Although a severe storm was raging, Melville
started immediately for this place with his dog team, carrying food
with him.

He found Noros and Nindemann in a small hut, nearly dead from cold and
hunger. After making them comfortable, and learning from them where
they had left De Long, Melville pushed on. Storms delayed him in his
search, so that when he reached the part of the river where De Long’s
party was last seen, he abandoned all hope of finding any of them
alive, for they had been without provisions two days when Nindemann
left them, and that part of the country was entirely destitute of food.

Yet Melville continued his search, determined to find the missing men,
alive or dead. After heroic, untiring efforts, he found the dead bodies
of his shipmates. They had perished five months before.

After attending to the burial of his brave comrades, and rewarding the
natives who had assisted him, Melville set out for home. He arrived
in New York, September 13, 1883, just one year from the day on which
the three boats were separated in the gale. Due credit has been given
Engineer Melville, both at home and abroad, for his promptness and
energy in conducting the search for the lost crew of the Jeannette.

The fate of the Jeannette and her crew often leads people to overlook
the results secured by her voyage. The long drift of twenty-one months
enabled the voyagers of this expedition to acquire considerable
knowledge of the ocean. The ship traveled over a large area, sometimes
moving almost in a circle. The depth of the ocean, the character of
its bed and its drift were determined. Many kinds of animal life were
studied, and two islands were discovered.



GREELY IN GRINNELL LAND



Interest in the Frozen North became so great, that a conference of
nations was held in Hamburg, Germany, in 1879, to discuss plans by
means of which knowledge of that part of the world might be advanced.
Eleven countries were represented, and it was decided to send out
expeditions and establish stations for the purpose of making scientific
observations. Fifteen expeditions were sent out by different countries,
and fourteen stations were established. These stations were known
as the International Circumpolar stations, and their work was to be
coöperative.

The United States decided to establish two stations, one at Point
Barrow, Alaska, and the other in Lady Franklin bay. The command of
the expedition to Point Barrow was given to Lieutenant Ray. Adolphus
Washington Greely, a lieutenant in the United States Army, was offered
command of the other, and when the enterprise was made national in
1881, he accepted the commission.

The arrangements necessary for the journey were soon made, and Greely
and his companions sailed on the Proteus to Newfoundland. They left
that island on July 7, 1881, and headed for the north. The Proteus
sailed through Davis strait and Baffin bay, passing the wonderful “bird
cliffs,” which rise perpendicularly for over a thousand feet out of
the sea, and are broken only by narrow ledges. Neither Eskimo nor
animal can reach these rocks, and here, safe from harm, the birds lay
their eggs and hatch out their young by the tens of thousands. Greely’s
men shot many birds and secured hundreds of eggs.


The Proteus passed through Smith sound and Kennedy channel, and
reached Lady Franklin bay in safety. She anchored at last in Discovery
bay, on the coast of Grinnell land, where Greely and his men went
ashore to select a place suitable for a camp, to be named Fort Conger.
Then the Proteus steamed away, leaving a small company of men alone
in the Arctic solitude. But they were too busy to feel lonely, and
began to work hard in order to make a comfortable home for themselves.
The house was built of wood covered with tarred paper, and stations for
the instruments were erected near at hand.

The cliffs around Discovery harbor rise from a hundred to a thousand
feet in height and nearly surround the bay, which contains about
twenty square miles of ice floe. Game was plentiful. Large flocks of
eider ducks visited an open pool near by, and herds of musk oxen were
to be seen in the distance, grazing quietly. The Arctic summer was
at its height, and the slopes were covered with grasses, mosses, and
buttercups.

Under the direction of Lieutenant Greely, the men took observations,
explored the country, and built depots. The depots were built at
convenient distances from Fort Conger, and were stored with supplies
of food for the use of exploring parties. At last so much had been
accomplished that Greely thought he might safely leave the camp and try
to reach the interior of Grinnell land.

With three companions he started from Fort Conger, April 26, 1882,
traveling over ice which was in good condition, so that the party moved
rapidly. Greely found that two openings along the coast, which he
had supposed to be bays, were large fiords. Here he came upon layers
of remarkably clear fresh-water ice. It was deep blue in color and
contrasted beautifully with the opaque white ice of the ocean floes.
Without doubt a river or glacier emptied into the fiord. Magnificent
mountain peaks round about rose to heights of thousands of feet above
the sea level, and through the valleys, which were bare of snow, there
were frequent traces of the musk ox, the fox, and the hare.


A sharp turn brought the party to a large icebound lake about five
hundred square miles in area, which Greely named Lake Hazen. To the
north rose ranges of mountains, snow-covered and majestic, known as
the Garfield range; beyond these lay the United States range, also
snow-covered.

The next day Lake Hazen was crossed and a beautiful glacier discovered.
It was five miles wide, and rose perpendicularly one hundred and
seventy-five feet out of the lake. Greely named it the Henrietta
Nesmith glacier, in honor of his wife.

The top of this glacier was white, like unpolished marble. Lower down,
the ice shaded into a bluish color, growing more delicate as it reached
the foot, where it became white, with yellow and rose-colored tinges.
There were three deep gullies or channels in the glacier, through
which a torrent had evidently rushed at some time; and, strange as
it may seem, the hills and slopes next it were covered with plants,
lichens, willows, and Arctic poppies. In the valleys there was enough
vegetation to serve as pasture for musk oxen and other animals. The
interior of Grinnell land was a pleasant country, and Greely felt sorry
to leave it and return to the coast. He had discovered and explored a
large tract of land never before visited by civilized men.

In June, 1882, Greely went again to the interior of Grinnell land. This
time he discovered a number of small lakes, connected by streams with
Lake Hazen.

He also made the ascent of a mountain forty-five hundred feet in
height. When he had climbed within half a mile of the top he was so
tired that he felt he must give up. To urge himself onward, he kept
throwing his field glasses ahead of him, and crawling on his hands
and knees to the spot where they were. At last he could advance only
fifty steps at a time, but he persevered and reached the top, to which
he gave the name Mount Arthur. It is in all probability the highest
peak in Grinnell land, and from its summit Greely saw the entire
island spread out like a map before him. North of Lake Hazen rose the
snow-clad mountains, extending range beyond range. A like view met his
eye as he surveyed the country to the south, while in the interior he
was gazing upon fertile valleys dotted with lakes, which supported
herds of musk oxen.

Greely spent only twenty minutes on the top of Mount Arthur. The
temperature was far below zero, and he was in danger of freezing. When
he began to descend, he decided to slide down a precipice a hundred
feet in height, in order to save a long walk around the snowdrifts.
Luckily he landed in the soft snow. At the foot of the mountain Greely
met his companions, and they returned all together to Fort Conger, well
pleased with their journey.

The next year Lieutenant Lockwood crossed Grinnell land, and on the
western coast discovered a large fiord which he named Greely fiord.
Both north and south of this region were large ice caps, which
constantly discharged glaciers into the lakes and fiords. At Lake
Hazen, as well as at many other places on the island, abandoned Eskimo
huts were found, showing that the Eskimos had at one time occupied the
island; and many relics of these people were collected, among them
a stone lamp, a bone spear-head, and a sledge. But at this time the
island was entirely uninhabited.




FARTHEST NORTH OF THE GREELY PARTY



While Greely was exploring Grinnell land, another party from Fort
Conger, under Lieutenant Lockwood, had forced its way across Robeson
channel to the Greenland coast. Lockwood’s party proceeded northward in
the face of many severe trials. The thermometer registered 81° below
the freezing point; add to this rough ice and severe winds, and we may
faintly imagine the suffering endured.

During a snowstorm the men were obliged to dig a hole in a snow bank
and crawl into it for protection. But the opening soon filled up with
drifting snow, and the air became so foul that the men were glad to
creep out again. Sometimes the wind blew them over while they were at
work, and once a fierce gust lifted one of the dog sledges, with its
load of two hundred pounds, from the ground. Nevertheless, on April 27,
1882, the party reached Cape Bryant, where they camped and proceeded to
explore the surrounding country. The men of the supporting party, as
had been agreed, turned back at this point and returned to Fort Conger.


Then Lieutenant Lockwood, Sergeant Brainard, and an Eskimo named
Christianson set off to the north to Cape Britannia, taking with them
enough food to last twenty-five days. The ice was in fair condition
for pushing rapidly forward, and they soon reached Cape Britannia, a
towering cliff. The men climbed to the top and gazed around over the
snow-covered mountain peaks. Then they descended and traveled on over
land never before trodden by white men. They crossed Nordenskjöld inlet
and Chipps inlet, and at length reached a new island, which was named
after Lieutenant Lockwood. It lies in latitude 83° 24ʹ north, but four
hundred and fifty miles from the pole, and was at that time, 1882, the
northernmost point yet attained by any nation.

For three hundred years England had held the honor of penetrating
farthest north. From the time of Henry Hudson, who, in 1607, reached
latitude 81° 30ʹ, the English sailors had succeeded in going nearer to
the pole than the explorers of any other nation. In 1875, an English
Arctic expedition under Captain Nares, reached latitude 83° 20ʹ
north. Now, Lockwood and Brainard had gained for America the glory of
penetrating the farthest north.

From a height of twenty-six hundred feet these two men saw fields of
ice extending to the north as far as the horizon. To the northeast they
saw Cape Washington, which is twenty-eight miles above Cape Columbia,
the most northern point of Grinnell land. Cape Washington is the
northernmost known limit of Greenland, lying in latitude 83° 38ʹ. After
battling so long with the fierce gales and severe weather, the two men
were so exhausted that they could with difficulty return to the camp.
Shortly after their return it was decided to go back to Fort Conger.
Two of the party were snow-blind and had to be led. The three brave
travelers were greeted with delight by the rest of the party.

Their success in reaching the highest latitude yet attained was
discussed at every meal. The time passed rapidly at Fort Conger, for
the men were very busy, but presently they became anxious. The visiting
ship which was expected in the summer of 1882, with supplies and
recruits, did not arrive, and Greely prepared to pass a second winter
at Fort Conger. When August, 1883, came and no visiting ship had yet
made its appearance, it is no wonder that the men were disheartened.

At length, weary of waiting, and certain that it meant death to remain
a third winter at Fort Conger, Greely decided to retreat to the south,
hoping to meet the ship. He expected, at least, to find that provisions
had been placed in depots, for his relief. The little steam launch, the
Lady Greely, towed two other small boats through the narrow channels.
Small amounts of food were found in different caches or depots along
the route, though not enough to bring much relief. The party was now
on the verge of starvation. Only after a desperate struggle did they
succeed in reaching Cape Sabine, where they erected stone huts and
prepared to pass the winter as best they might. Some of the party tried
to hunt, but game had disappeared and darkness was close upon them.
Their condition was indeed pitiable; their clothing was in rags, they
had no fuel and but forty days’ rations.

But the United States had not forgotten the brave men who were risking
their lives to make her name glorious. The Neptune, the Proteus,
and the Yantic had been sent to relieve Greely during 1882 and 1883.
Every one of these vessels, however, failed to reach him; moreover,
they neglected to deposit supplies where he might have found them.

In the winter of 1883 and 1884, under the personal direction of
Secretary Chandler, two vessels, the Thetis and the Bear, were
bought and equipped for the relief of Greely. The Thetis was
commanded by Commodore W. S. Schley, and sailed from New York on May 1,
1884. On board the Thetis was Chief Engineer Melville, who had made
the heroic search for De Long of the ill-fated Jeannette. Melville
himself had urged this relief expedition for Greely, and his energy and
knowledge brought success.

Congress offered a reward of $25,000 to any vessel not in the navy,
which should first find the missing men, and many a whaler went north
in the attempt to win the prize. These vessels, though unsuccessful in
the search, did some good, for they helped to break a passage through
the ice.

The men of the Thetis, under Commodore Schley, did not delay a
moment, or wait for favorable leads. When they could not advance in any
other way, they tried to blast the ice in front and so force a passage.
They fought the ice as they would fight a foe, never swerving from
their one object to reach Greely in as short a time as possible. Every
possible effort was made, and by June 6 the Thetis reached Melville
bay. Little by little she forged ahead, and reached the neighborhood of
Smith sound.

Here all the men who could be spared were sent ashore to search for
records, and at last one of the men came upon a cairn, which he opened.
In it he found a bundle of Greely’s papers, photographs, and records.
The most recent record was dated September, 1883, nine months before.
It stated that the party had gone into camp four and a half miles west
of Cape Sabine. Commodore Schley immediately ordered a party of men to
take the steam cutter and find the camp. The Thetis then blew her
whistles to call the search parties back to the ship.

The men of Greely’s party in the wretched tent at Camp Clay heard the
whistles and knew that a vessel must be somewhere near, yet they were
too weak to go in search of it, and too hopeless to believe that any
one was near enough to find them. One man did crawl out and try to
raise an oar with three rags on it, as a signal of distress, but the
furious wind tore it down.

The sharp eyes of the men in the steam cutter saw this man. They ran
the boat inshore and were soon questioning him about his companions.
He told them that they were over the hill, and that seven of them
still lived, among them Lieutenant Greely. The ice pilot jumped out of
the boat and ran to the camp. He was the first of the party to speak
to Lieutenant Greely, as he had been the last to see him when the
Proteus steamed away from Discovery harbor three years before. Greely
directed him to cut the back out of the tent with his pocket knife.
When this was done, Greely on his hands and knees in his sleeping bag
peered out. His hair and beard were long and matted, his face was
covered with soot and dirt, and his eyes glittered with excitement. He
heard with joy that help had arrived and that he and his companions
were saved. In the midst of a terrific wind storm, the surviving men of
Greely’s party were transferred to the Thetis and made comfortable.

Then came the dreadful work of collecting the bodies of the dead and
carrying them aboard the ships, after which the Thetis and the
Bear set sail from Camp Clay and headed for home. The ship reached
Portsmouth, New Hampshire, August 1, 1884, where Greely and his command
were transferred to the navy yard, while the bodies of the dead were
taken to Governor’s island in New York harbor.

Thus ended one of the most successful and rapid relief voyages ever
made. Had Commodore Schley been more cautious, not a man of Greely’s
party would have been found alive. But Schley knew that this was a time
for both courage and daring, and neither he nor any of his command
lacked in these qualities.

Greely and the other survivors of his expedition received a royal
welcome home. The President of the United States thanked them publicly
on behalf of the nation, the Queen of England sent messages of inquiry
and sympathy, and the people of Portsmouth held a grand reception in
their honor. The government sent several large war vessels to the
harbor, and Mr. Chandler, Secretary of the Navy, and other prominent
men came with them. The shores of the river were lined with people and
the harbor was filled with steamers, sailboats, and smaller craft, all
gayly decorated with flags and bunting. Everybody was eager to welcome
the brave men who had risked their lives and suffered so much in
seeking to penetrate still farther into the Frozen North.

Those members of the expedition who lost their lives in this journey
were not forgotten. A public funeral was held at Governor’s island, and
every respect was paid to the memories of these men.

The results of Greely’s work in the Arctic regions were many. The
programme for international scientific work had been carried out daily.
All magnetic and climatic changes had been noted. The effect of the
sun’s rays, the earth and ocean currents, the atmosphere, electricity,
ice, and tides had been observed. A study had been made, also, of the
animal and vegetable life of the locality, and of the Eskimos.

Both this Circumpolar station and the one established at Point Barrow
were abandoned in 1883, but the value of the work accomplished through
them was very great.




LIEUTENANT SCHWATKA IN ALASKA



Alaska was purchased by the United States from Russia in 1867. It was
supposed to be a barren region of ice and snow, and many people thought
that the price of $7,200,000 was an amount far in excess of the value
of the land.

For many years no attempt was made to form a territorial government in
Alaska, and the country remained in charge of the military forces of
the United States. In 1883, Lieutenant Schwatka determined to conduct
an exploring expedition into the interior, for the purpose of gaining
such information of the country and its wild inhabitants as would be
of assistance to the soldiers stationed there. This expedition did
not have the support of Congress and was kept as secret as possible.
Lieutenant Schwatka feared that, if attention were attracted to the
expedition, Congress would forbid its departure.

All Schwatka’s plans worked well. With six companions he left Portland,
Oregon, at midnight, May 22, and sailed northward, taking the inland
route to Alaska. The inland route consists of a channel which lies
between the coast of Washington and British Columbia and southeastern
Alaska and the line of islands which lie off that coast.

Sitka, then the capital of Alaska, was reached in a little more than
a week, and two days later the ship dropped anchor in a pretty port
called Pyramid harbor, near the mouth of the Chilkat river. The
villages of the Chilkat Indians, consisting of from fifteen to fifty
houses each, are built along this river. At these villages Lieutenant
Schwatka secured the services of about sixty Indians to go with him on
his journey.


The party started over a good trail and soon reached Haines’s mission
on Chilkoot inlet. Here more Indians were added to the number already
employed, and the tramp began over the mountains to the head waters
of the Yukon. At first the party traveled through a riverlike channel
between high, steep mountains, which were covered nearly to the top
with pine, cedar, and spruce trees. The summits were covered with snow
and ice, which melted and formed cascades and torrents, and rushed
down the slopes, dashing over precipices and flinging spray in all
directions.

This journey brought them to the mouth of a river called the Dayay,
where they camped. Schwatka now explained his plan to his Indian
guides. He told them that when he should reach the Yukon, he intended
to build a raft and float down the great river to its mouth. The
Indians were astonished at this bold project. They ridiculed the
idea, saying that no raft could make such a journey. There were lakes
to pass through, they said, and miles of raging rapids, which would
twist and tear any raft to pieces. But Schwatka paid no attention to
their opinions. He kept steadily on his way, and the journey continued
pleasant and easy through the Dayay river.

On June 10, the course lay over the spurs of the mountains, and travel
became difficult. The trail was up and down hill, over huge trunks of
fallen trees, and through boggy swamps. Each man carried one hundred
pounds of luggage on his back, and when he sank into a bog up to his
knees, it was far from easy to get out.

The snow line reached, the ascent of the pass over the Coast range
was begun. Behind one another, in single file, the men scrambled up
precipices and through valleys. Sometimes they crawled along on their
hands and knees, often using their teeth to grasp a dwarf bush. In
many places a single misstep would have resulted in death, but they
persevered and at length succeeded in crossing the mountains without
accident.


Most of the Indians left Schwatka at this place and returned to their
homes. Those who were to accompany him down the Yukon river to the
coast camped with the white men, late in the evening, by a small lake
called by Schwatka, Crater lake. It is the source of the great Yukon
river.

At Lake Lindeman the raft was built, and the stores and provisions
were placed upon it. Then began the longest raft journey ever made for
purposes of exploration.

Lieutenant Schwatka and his companions propelled the raft, by means of
rowing and sculling, through Lake Lindeman into another lake called
Bennett lake. On the mountains around Bennett lake were beautiful blue
glaciers, and among them shone peaks and ridges of a reddish color.
Schwatka concluded that the red color was due to the presence of
iron in the soil, and he accordingly named the range the Iron-capped
mountains.

The explorers now traveled through a chain of lakes connected by
streams of water. The last lake led them into the Yukon river, which
flowed rapidly, so that for a while the raft made good time. On July
1, the party came in sight of the upper end of the Grand Cañon of the
Yukon, where the river, which had been about three hundred yards in
width, grew narrower, until it was about thirty yards wide.

The walls of the cañon are nearly a mile in length and are
perpendicular columns of rock. The center of this cañon expands into a
large basin full of whirlpools and eddies. The waters, white with foam,
tear through this narrow passage of rock at the rate of six or seven
miles an hour, with a roaring that can be heard at a great distance.

At the northern end of the cañon the rushing river widens again, but
for four miles it seethes, foams, and falls in cascades. The luggage
was sent round by portage, and Schwatka prepared to shoot his raft
through the rapids. Once started, the men could not control or guide
the raft at all, but left it to work its own way. This it did very
successfully, though many times they thought it would surely be dashed
in pieces.

After the rapids were passed, the men drew the sturdy raft ashore,
and found that it needed but few repairs. While some of the men were
engaged in mending the raft, the others fished. Schwatka found this the
best fishing ground on the entire river; in a short time between four
and five hundred fine grayling were caught with rod and fly.

The raft was ready for use again by July 5, and on that day Schwatka
and his party started once more down the Yukon, and soon passed through
the last lake they were to encounter. After this the river became wider
and was dotted with islands; then the site of old Fort Selkirk came
into view.


Fort Selkirk was built in 1850 by the Hudson Bay Trading Company for a
trading post with the Indians. But the Chilkats wanted the furs from
the interior for themselves; so they gathered a war party together,
descended the Yukon river to Fort Selkirk, burned the building, and
carried off the goods. Now all that remains of Fort Selkirk is a group
of three old chimneys.

Schwatka camped at this spot several days. Near the river bank he came
upon a burial ground of the Ayan Indians, who inhabit this part of the
country. A fence of rough boards, bound together by willows, is built
around each grave. Above the grave there stands a long, light pole
about twenty feet high, with a piece of colored cloth hanging from the
top. Near the grave, but outside the inclosure, stands another pole
of about the same height. To the top of this second pole is fastened
a rude carving of a fish, duck, goose, bear, or some other animal or
bird.

These poles are called totems. They represent the most clever
workmanship of these Indians, and are collected and sold as curiosities.
Some of the carvings are very old and display remarkable skill. No one
knows exactly what these totem poles mean, as the Indians are unwilling
to talk about them, but they are supposed to indicate in some way the
history of the buried person or of his tribe. The Indians do not make
totem poles any more, but they carefully preserve those which they
already have.

At Fort Selkirk the Yukon begins to cut through the northern spurs
of the Rocky mountains. This part of the river is known as the Upper
Ramparts, and the scenery along the banks for one hundred miles is
wondrously beautiful. Schwatka and his party left Selkirk July 15, and
traveled through this beautiful country. As they rounded one of the
islands, they saw about two hundred Ayan Indians gathered on the beach
opposite, waiting to receive them.

The Ayans had heard of the approach of the curious raft with its
white owners, and were anxious to show them some attention. Many of
the Indians ran up and down the bank, shouting, screaming, and waving
their arms wildly. Others in birch-bark canoes surrounded the raft, and
escorted it to shore. When the raft came near the shore, men, women,
and children waded out to their waists in the ice-cold water and helped
to drag it in. Schwatka feared at first that the Indians might do the
party some harm, and ordered his companions to keep their guns near.
But the Indians were very friendly. They began singing and dancing,
while their medicine-man went through the most unheard-of performances.

The Ayan huts are made of spruce brush. Over the top is thrown a piece
of dirty canvas or a moose or caribou skin, and the huts are built so
low that a man can scarcely stand erect inside. Quantities of salmon
hang from the roof, partly dried, but still undergoing a smoking
process from the dense clouds of smoke that arise from the fire. The
dogs sleep in the house, lying around on the floor. In the winter the
Ayans cover their tents thickly with skins and then bank them about
with snow.

As the party followed the river from this Indian village, they
found the mountains becoming higher and grander, while by way of
contrast the mosquitoes grew more annoying. The whole region swarmed
with them, and the newcomers longed for veils. They were obliged to use
small bushes to brush away the mosquitoes.

The water of the Yukon became very muddy, so that it was impossible
to fish with a rod and fly. At the Yukon flat lands, reached by our
travelers after three weeks of traveling through this flat region,
the river widened and was filled with low, sandy islands. The fort is
situated on a curve of the river which happens to be almost directly
upon the Arctic circle, and is called the Great Arctic bend.

Fort Yukon is about one thousand miles from the mouth of the river,
which at this point is seven miles wide. The river steamer, named the
Yukon, was moored at the fort, and her cannon greeted the raftsmen.
The settlement consists of a few old houses and the old fort built by
the Hudson Bay Company. The Fort Yukon tribe of Indians live in the
vicinity, but the hunting and fishing are poor, and the tribe is small
and nomadic.

After the river men had traded with the Indians the steamer proceeded
upstream, while Schwatka and his party started downstream again on the
raft. In a little while the country began to grow hilly once more,
greatly to the delight of the travelers, for the low region had been
unendurably dreary. The hilly region is known as the Lower Ramparts,
and its scenery is much like that of the Upper Ramparts.

Another trading station was soon reached, where Schwatka saw the
northernmost garden in the United States. This garden, within two days’
journey of the polar regions, belonged to the white man who was in
charge of the station at that point. In it were growing turnips and
other hardy vegetables, which tasted delicious to the men, who had been
living so long upon canned foods.

The raft was laid away at this place, after its journey of thirteen
hundred and three miles, and the party embarked on a schooner, hoping
to make better time. But they were forced to work their way down the
river inch by inch, for heavy winds sprang up and more than once
threatened to wreck the schooner. The Yukon at last overtook them,
on her return to the mouth of the river, as Schwatka had expected.


The great delta of the Yukon soon came into view. It consists of many
islands and channels which have never been entirely explored. From the
most northern mouth of the delta to the most southern is a distance of
ninety miles. After the Alphoon, the northernmost mouth, was reached,
a weary time began. The vessel slowly threaded her way through shallow
channels of water and between mud banks, until she crept into the
harbor of the little village of St. Michael on the coast. From this
place Schwatka and his party embarked for San Francisco on the Leo,
which had stopped at St. Michael on its way from Point Barrow.

By this raft journey of Lieutenant Schwatka, the Yukon was navigated
from its source to its mouth, a distance of two thousand and forty-four
miles.

This river is the fifth in length in the United States, and sends forth
such a volume of water that it freshens Bering sea to a distance of ten
miles.




NANSEN CROSSES GREENLAND



Schwatka had explored the interior of Alaska, but the interior of
Greenland remained as great a mystery as ever. The only man who
had attempted to cross the inland region was Nordenskjöld, who had
penetrated only a few miles.

In 1888 a young Norwegian named Fridtjof Nansen determined to cross the
ice cap of Greenland.

Nansen was an expert in the use of the ski. Ski are Norwegian
snowshoes. They consist of long, narrow strips of wood, which are
fastened to the shoes in about the same way in which we fasten skates.
The ski are about eight feet in length and three or four inches in
breadth. In front they are slightly pointed and curved up; often the
back is pointed also. A man who is skillful in the use of ski can
travel over the snow by means of them at a rate of eight or nine miles
an hour. In Norway and in some other cold countries, where the snow
lies deep a larger part of the year, ski are much used for traveling.

The people of Norway love the sport of ski-löbning. During the long
winter the boys and the girls go to and from school on ski. At recess
they take a run on their ski, and often the teacher goes with them.


Nansen learned to use the ski when a boy, and after he was grown up he
took great pleasure in strapping these queer shoes to his feet and
trying to climb the high mountains.

One day this question came suddenly into Nansen’s mind: Why might not
a party of good ski-löbners cross Greenland from coast to coast? After
thinking the matter over for a time, Nansen concluded that it could be
done. From that moment he devoted all his time and energy to carrying
out his idea. He decided that the best plan would be to start from the
east coast and travel across to the west. The east coast was barren and
uninhabited. Sometimes a few wandering Eskimo tribes found their way
there, but no settlements had been made. On the western coast there
were settlements.

Nansen knew that if his party landed on the east coast and traveled
west, they would travel toward safety. If this route were reversed,
they would leave comfort and safety behind at every step, and move
continually toward unknown dangers. The men might become discouraged,
give up the expedition, and return to the settlements. So Nansen coolly
made his plans to land on the east coast and cross Greenland to the
west coast. By this arrangement the men would perceive that they must
reach the west coast or die.


The government of Norway would not assist Nansen. His plan was
considered that of a madman. Many people said that he was attempting to
do an impossible thing. Others said, “Of what use is this exploit, even
if he does succeed?” These people did not know that a large portion of
our earth was once ice-covered, as Greenland is today. If we would
know the cause of many curious phenomena that now exist in our own
land, we must study Greenland. As Greenland is now, so, probably, was a
large part of the earth during the ice age, thousands of years ago.

Though Nansen met with discouragements on every side, he continued to
plan for the trip. At length a wealthy Danish gentleman gave him enough
money to equip an expedition. It was not easy for Nansen to find
companions for this journey, but he at length succeeded in securing the
services of three Norwegians and two Lapps. The Norwegians were Otto
Sverdrup, a retired ship captain, Oluf Dietrichson, a lieutenant in the
army, and Kristian Kristiansen Trana, a peasant. The Lapps were named
Balto and Ravna. Balto was a good-looking young man, who spoke a little
English; he was a sea Lapp and lived in a town. Ravna was a mountain
Lapp, forty-five years of age. He was short, and had long, black hair
hanging over his shoulders. Ravna’s home was on the mountains, where he
lived in a skin tent and took care of herds of reindeer.


Nansen made sure that all these five men were skillful ski-löbners, for
he thought that, when they reached the inland ice of Greenland, the
journey would be rapid and easy on ski.

Then Nansen arranged with the captain of a sealing vessel to carry
him and his companions to the Arctic ocean. After collecting tents,
clothing, food, sleeping bags, and scientific instruments, the party
proceeded to Iceland, where the captain of the sealing vessel had
promised to call for them. On June 3, 1888, the sealing vessel,
the Jason, arrived off the coast of Iceland, and Nansen and his
companions were taken aboard. The Jason headed directly for Denmark
strait, where seals abound, and in a short time the ship was among the
ice floes. Every one on board was watching eagerly for seals, and at
last a large number of the quiet creatures were seen lying like black
dots on the floes.

On board the Jason there was great excitement. The men flew about,
making sure that rifles were clean and in good order and that cartridge
boxes were filled. Then the hunters rushed to the boats and the capture
began. One hundred and eighty-seven seals were shot that day. The
sealers thought this a small number, but Nansen, who had never hunted
seals before, thought it a very good day’s sport.

Sealing vessels, in their efforts to make large hauls, usually push
steadily on through the ice, until they are in the midst of crowds of
seals. The force of the ice against the ship is often so great as to
throw the sailors off their feet. When the vessel is well in among the
seals the engines are stopped, and the men are ordered to start out
in the small boats. There are three or four oarsmen with one shooter
in each boat. Away they go in different directions, each boat trying
to secure the greatest number it can carry and to return first to the
ship. The seals lie all around on the edges of the ice floes, and at
first pay no attention to the boats. They lift their heads and see
the boats coming from a long distance away; then, ignorant of their
danger, they lower their heads again and lie quiet.

As the boats draw nearer, the seals sometimes slide off into the water.
The hunters are quick to see any movement on the part of the seals. As
soon as one moves toward the water, the men in the boat begin to shout
as loudly as they can. The seal is so astonished by the unusual noise
that he lies still awhile to think it over.

Then the hunter takes aim, and if he shoots the animal through the
head, it drops down on the ice again and dies. The other seals near by
are not disturbed. They seem to think that their companion has gone
quietly to sleep again, and that there can be no danger. Often several
seals are shot in this way before the rest become alarmed.

Sometimes the shooter misses his mark and wounds the seal instead of
killing him instantly. The wounded seal in his pain splashes around
on the ice and in the water, and the others take fright and plunge
into the sea. A great deal, therefore, depends upon the skill of the
shooters, most of whom are accurate marksmen.

When several seals have been shot, the men in the boat spring to the
floes where they are lying and skin them. The skinning is done rapidly
with long, sharp knives, and nothing is saved except the skin and the
layer of blubber lying next it. The entire body of the seal is left on
the ice. The Eskimos would think this practice very wasteful, for they
make use of every part of the seal, including the bones.

As sealers sometimes return from a trip to Denmark strait with five
thousand skins aboard, it is not surprising that seals are becoming
scarce in that locality.

Nansen was glad when the haul of seals was over and the Jason steamed
away again toward Greenland. Several times the coast had been sighted,
but the ship had never drawn near enough to make it possible to land.
Balto was not very well pleased with his first glimpse of Greenland.
In his account of his voyage, he said that the coast had no beauty nor
charm to the eye, but was dismal and hideous to look upon; that the
mountain peaks were very high and rose like church steeples into the
clouds, which hid the summits.

But Nansen thought the coast beautiful. The snow-covered peaks
glittered in the sunlight and extended as far as the eye could reach,
while far to the west stretched the vast white plain of inland ice.

On July 17, 1888, as the Jason was not more than ten or twelve miles
from the coast of Greenland, Nansen made up his mind to leave the ship.
All the baggage was brought on deck, farewells were said, and at seven
o’clock in the evening Nansen and his five companions climbed down the
ship’s ladder and embarked in two boats. The Jason’s guns saluted;
the Jason’s crew cheered. But deep down in their hearts the sailors
believed that Nansen and his men were going to certain death. No
thought of fear, however, disturbed the brave band. With the exception
of Balto and Ravna, they were all delighted to enter upon the perilous
journey.

At first everything went well. There were channels of water between
the floes, wide enough for the boats to pass through. But soon the ice
began to pack, and the boats had to be pulled up upon the floes and
dragged across to open water. It was hard to keep the light craft from
being crushed between the ice masses. Then the current became so strong
that the men were obliged to draw the boats up on a floe, in order to
escape from it.

The ice which had collected around them threw the smaller floes upon
the larger ones, making the ice uneven and difficult to traverse.
After working all night, the men crawled into their sleeping bags, and
were soon asleep.

For several days little progress was made toward land. Then a heavy
swell arose and the breakers dashing over the floe where the tent had
been pitched threatened to wash it away.


Suddenly the floe split through the middle, and the travelers were
obliged to remove to a larger one and camp again. The tent stood now on
a piece of drifting ice, about ten miles from land, with every prospect
of being carried out to sea, where small boats could not live in the
heavy waves. The outlook was certainly gloomy.

One morning Nansen missed Balto and Ravna. In searching for them he
lifted the canvas covering of one of the boats, and saw the two Lapps
lying in the bottom of the boat, side by side. Balto was reading to
Ravna from his Lappish New Testament, for both had made up their minds
that they must drown, and were preparing for death.

That day the ice tilted and rolled like a raft on the angry waves, so
that it was almost impossible to cook the soup for their dinner. The
poor frightened Lapps did not speak a word, but the rest of the men
knew no fear, and laughed and joked as usual.

When night came, all the men, except Balto and Sverdrup, went to bed in
the tent; Balto preferred to sleep in a boat, and Sverdrup was to keep
watch.

Slowly and calmly, brave Otto Sverdrup paced up and down the ice.
The floe rocked like a ship at sea, and the heavy waves dashed over
it, threatening to wash away the entire camp. Several times Sverdrup
was obliged to hold the boat in which Balto was sleeping, to keep it
from being swept off the ice. Once it seemed that the tent must be
washed off also, and Sverdrup stepped up to it and unfastened one of
the hooks. He meant to call the men, so that they might get into the
boats, and, if possible, escape with their lives. But Sverdrup paused
a moment. The sea seemed to grow quieter, and a current arose which
quieted the breakers and changed the course of the drifting ice, which,
instead of sailing out to sea, now floated in the opposite direction.

When Nansen awoke in the morning, he was surprised to find the open sea
far off, and the ice drifting calmly toward the land. All the party
rejoiced that they had remained on the ice, which at one time seemed so
dangerous. Their safety was due to the fearlessness and calm judgment
of Sverdrup.

The work of launching the boats and dragging them over the ice
continued for a week longer. One morning Nansen was resting quietly in
his tent, when Ravna, who was on watch without, pulled aside the canvas
and peered in. He appeared so excited that Nansen asked him if he could
see land. “Yes, yes,” replied Ravna, “land too near!” meaning, “land
very near.” Nansen sprang from his sleeping bag and looked out. Land
was very near, and there was open water in front of them. The boats
were quickly launched. After some hours of hard pulling the party found
a harbor and landed.

The voyagers rejoiced to be on land once more. They walked over the
stones and rocks, and picked moss and a stalk or two of grass. They
had a good dinner to celebrate the landing: biscuit, cheese, and jam
to eat, and hot chocolate to drink. When dinner was over, they started
north again in boats along the coast, for Nansen wished to begin his
journey across Greenland farther to the north than the place where he
had landed.

The travelers picked their way on along the coast until a great glacier
came in sight, which Nansen knew to be the famous Puisortok. Puisortok
means the place where something shoots up, and the Eskimos regard the
spot with fear. When they pass this dreadful place they will not speak,
laugh, eat, nor smoke. They will not look toward the glacier, or even
mention the name Puisortok. They believe that if they do any of these
things the glacier will become angry and cause their death.

Balto was one day gazing through the telescope near this place, when
he saw two small black spots in the distance which seemed to be moving
rapidly toward him. As they grew more distinct, he shouted to Nansen
that two men were coming. When they came nearer, the strangers proved
to be two young East Greenland Eskimos traveling through the ice floes
in their kayaks.

These Eskimos were short in stature and very good-looking. Their
faces were broad and round, and their features regular. Their skin
was chestnut-brown, and their hair long, black, and shiny. One wore a
jacket and breeches of sealskin, with strings of beads in his hair,
while the other wore sealskin trousers and a jacket of blue cotton.
On their heads they wore large flat-brimmed hats, made of blue cotton
stretched across a wooden ring. On the crown was a large red cross.



The Eskimos showed great astonishment at the boats and other strange
things that they saw, and when Nansen gave them some food, they seemed
much pleased. By gestures they warned Nansen about the dangerous
Puisortok, and then set off northward again in their kayaks.

Nansen and his men passed Puisortok without any trouble, though they
talked and laughed as usual. They looked at the dreaded glacier, and
admired the beautiful color of the ice, which shaded from blue to a
milky white. Yet old Puisortok showed no signs of anger. Soon the
wayfarers came upon an Eskimo camp. High up among the rocks stood the
skin tents, while the Eskimos themselves were gathered outside, running
about in a highly excited manner, chattering and waving their arms. As
the boats came nearer, the people on the land yelled and shrieked. Some
ran to the shore, and some to high points on rocks, where they could
get a better view of the strangers.

They welcomed the newcomers with smiles of delight, and helped them
in every possible way. Nansen and his friends were invited into the
Eskimo tents. They remained inside as long as possible, but the filth
soon drove them out. When Nansen and his men went to bed in their own
tent, the Eskimos stood around in crowds, gaping curiously to see them
undress and crawl into their sleeping bags.

The Eskimos gave the white men pieces of sealskin, and in return their
guests presented them with the empty tin cans in which their meat had
been packed. These gifts pleased the natives very much. They contrived
to make Nansen understand that two tribes, one traveling north and the
other south, had met at this place, and that now they were preparing to
separate and continue their journey. Nansen determined to accompany the
tribe which was going north, because he thought that their knowledge of
the coast might be of assistance to him.

The accomplished Eskimos were not long in preparing for the journey.
In a twinkling the tents were down and everything was packed. Before
they parted, the members of the different tribes bade one another
goodbye, rubbing their noses together, instead of kissing. A few
remained behind the others for a specially tender farewell. They drew
up in a line like soldiers, and brought out snuff horns. One man would
take snuff from a horn, and pass it on to the next. They spent several
hours in this ceremony, each man taking snuff many times. Nansen
thought they would sneeze themselves to death.

Only the Eskimos who had come from the south had their horns full of
snuff. The tribe from the north was bound for the Danish colonies on
the southern coast, to procure this important article. The journey
takes about two years, one year to reach the Danish colonies, and one
year to return. When the colonies are reached, the Eskimos spend an
hour or two in trading. After they obtain the snuff, they start on
their homeward journey. Their form of snuff is simply tobacco, ground
to a powder between stones. In exchange for the tobacco, the Eskimos
give large, fine bearskins, foxskins, and sealskins. They pay high
prices for articles which cost the white men very little money.

When the farewell was over, the Eskimos parted, and Nansen tried to
keep the north-bound travelers in sight, but he soon found that he must
depend upon himself and break his own way through the ice. The journey
grew harder and harder, and in camp the travelers were often tormented
by swarms of mosquitoes. Clouds of the small insects swarmed around
them and annoyed the men almost beyond endurance. Any amount of work in
the ice was to be preferred to an attack by mosquitoes.

The party traveled through the water among huge icebergs; they plodded
wearily over ice hummocks; finally, they drew up their boats for the
last time at a place where Nansen thought they could climb the steep
ascent from the coast, and reach the inland ice.

The boats were left in a cleft in the rocks, carefully blocked with
stones to keep them steady. Then began the climb up the mountains to
the plateau. The ascent was steep, and the men had hard work to drag up
the sledges. Often one of the climbers would sink into a deep crevasse
and have to be rescued by his companions.


The crevasses grew deeper and more dangerous as the party advanced, and
soon a rain storm set in, which delayed the travelers three days. While
they were lying in the tents, the men followed the wise example of the
bears and did no work. They ate very little and only once a day, but
slept a great deal.

When they took up the journey again, they found the ice hard. But a
heavy snowstorm began, and it was difficult to drag the sledges through
the deep drifts. At last, when they reached a point six thousand feet
above the level of the sea, the wind was blowing fiercely and the
temperature stood at zero.

Nansen decided to rig a sail for the sledges, hoping by this
contrivance to make the wind serve as an aid. Old Ravna was disgusted
with the plan, and Balto, too, thought it absurd to try to sail on the
snow. But Nansen made the sails, and the two Lapps were soon forced to
admit that their use made the load lighter to draw.


The snow was still very deep, and when, on August 30, it was in
condition for the men to use the ski, they joyfully strapped them on.
In a short time they had attained the plateau, and then for days they
toiled over a flat, wide expanse of snow. The highest elevation which
Nansen reached during this journey was nine thousand two hundred and
seventy-two feet, and the lowest temperature he experienced was 49°
below zero.

The sledges were heavy, and the Lapps grumbled all the time, Ravna
especially being very low-spirited. One day he said to Nansen: “I am an
old Lapp, and a silly old fool, too. I don’t believe we shall ever get
to the coast.”

Nansen answered: “That is quite true, Ravna. You are a silly old fool.”

Ravna’s spirits grew lighter when the party reached the highest part
of the plateau and began to descend, for then they went along swiftly
on their ski, or coasted down the slopes. Sometimes they encountered
crevasses and had to pick their way carefully, and once Nansen fell
into a deep chasm and had to scramble desperately to get out. When
the bare rocks came in view, Ravna was so delighted that he insisted
upon carrying a double load. He said that the mountain grasses and the
reindeer moss reminded him of his own mountains at home.

At last the travelers reached the sea and encamped in a sheltered
valley. Nansen and Sverdrup built a rude boat and embarked for
Godthaab, the nearest town on the coast, whence they sent back natives
to bring their comrades to town.

The Greenlanders took the two Lapps for women, because of their long
tunics of reindeer skin. But Ravna and Balto did not resent this
mistake; they were perfectly happy now and at ease. They told the
natives about the wonderful things that they had seen during the
journey over the inland ice.

Nansen was sadly disappointed when he heard that he could not sail for
home until the spring, for the ship on which he had hoped to sail had
already gone. He sent two swift kayak travelers with letters, to try to
overtake the ship at another town where she was to stop.


Nansen and his companions spent the winter comfortably at Godthaab.
They found plenty to keep them busy. Nansen learned to use the kayak
skillfully; he hunted and fished, and made two trips upon the inland
ice.

In the spring, when the ship arrived which was to take them home, all
the party felt sorry to part with the good friends they had made in
Greenland. The farewells over, Nansen was soon homeward bound. On May
30, 1888, the ship entered Christiania fiord. The harbor was filled
with steamers and sailing vessels, all crowded with people, assembled
to greet the man who had succeeded in crossing the inland ice of
Greenland. Flags were waved, bells rung, and cheers were given with a
will, to show the honor which Norway would pay her son, Fridtjof Nansen.

When Nansen had disembarked and entered a carriage to be driven home,
the people were so excited that they dashed forward, unharnessed the
horses from the carriage, and seizing the pole, drew him in triumph
through the city.

The scientific and geographical results of this journey of Nansen’s
were very great. Much valuable knowledge was gained concerning the
character of the interior of Greenland.




THE VOYAGE OF THE FRAM



Nansen had not been at home very long before he began making
preparations for a second voyage to the icy North. This time he meant
to find the North Pole if possible.

Nansen believed the theory that a current in the Arctic ocean passes
over the pole. His plan was to work his way through the ice to the
New Siberia islands, and then allow his vessel to be frozen in the
ice pack. He believed that the vessel would be carried with the drift
across the pole, to the east coast of Greenland. It was a daring plan,
but the people of Norway now believed in Nansen and were willing to
assist him. They gave him an amount equal to $75,600 of our money, so
that he was able to equip his expedition.

First of all he had a vessel built which would resist ice pressures.
The hull was shaped so that the pressure would raise the vessel up on
the ice, instead of crushing her. This vessel was called the Fram, a
Norwegian word which means “onward.” Nansen chose his crew, all natives
of Norway, and made the necessary preparations for the voyage. Enough
provisions were put on board to last five years. Sverdrup, who had been
so brave and helpful during the trip across Greenland, was chosen to
command the Fram.

At last everything was ready, and the day of departure arrived. The
Fram was lying in Christiania harbor when Nansen boarded her (1893).
While they were still sailing along the coast of Norway, a severe storm
arose. The sea broke over the rails of the vessel, and for a while
Nansen feared that the deck cargo would be carried overboard, and that
the Fram would meet with disaster before she reached the ice. But the
storm cleared, the sun shone again, and the men had a last glimpse of
their native land.


Then a dense fog surrounded the vessel, and she headed for the dreaded
Kara sea. The Kara sea was filled with ice, but the Fram behaved
admirably. Nansen said that it was a pleasure to take her into
difficult ice, because she was so strong, and that she turned and
twisted as easily as a ball on a plate.

The Fram proceeded along the bleak Siberian coast. One morning a
herd of walruses came in sight. Nansen and two companions jumped into
a boat and went after them. One of the men threw a harpoon at the
nearest walrus, but did not hit him. This proceeding so startled the
other walruses that they plunged into the water, but not before Nansen
had shot two of them. They rose again around the boat, bellowing and
roaring, and lashing the sea into a foam. It seemed likely that the
powerful animals would overturn the boat or pierce it with their tusks.
But no accident happened, and Nansen secured several walruses, which
served as food for the crew.


By September 25, 1893, they had reached the New Siberia islands, where
the Fram was unable to push her way farther, and was soon frozen in
the pack. Now there was nothing to do but to wait. At first the time
passed pleasantly enough. The men amused themselves by playing games,
caring for the dogs, taking observations, and making various kinds of
tools; but soon they had to bestir themselves, for on October 5, the
first severe ice pressure took place.

Nansen was in the cabin chatting with his companions, when they heard
a terrific noise and felt the ship tremble from bow to stern. Every
one rushed to the deck to see how the Fram would conduct herself.
The noise steadily increased, and the ice cracked on every side. The
sea tossed the floes, which were from ten to fifteen feet thick, one
upon another, until immense piles of ice were heaped around. The Fram
quivered all over and then was lifted gently up. After a few moments
the uproar had ceased, and the ship sank slowly down again into her old
position. Nansen was delighted, because the Fram had behaved during
the nip just as he had hoped. Had she not risen and pushed the floes
down beneath her, she would have been crushed among them.

The autumn passed away pleasantly. Polar bears were numerous, and the
men enjoyed the sport of hunting them. When Christmas (1893) came,
the day was celebrated by a very good dinner. The men made speeches
and gave one another Christmas gifts. They did not dream that another
Christmas would find them still drifting, with the knowledge that
little headway had been made.

At last Nansen made up his mind to leave the ship and journey by sledge
with one of his companions toward the North Pole. All the crew set to
work to prepare for this dangerous trip. The dogs were exercised and
trained, sledges and kayaks were built, and provisions weighed out and
packed. The weather was bitterly cold, the wind blew fiercely, and ice
pressures were increasing in number and severity.

On January 3, 1895, the Fram encountered the most severe pressure
which she had to meet. The accumulated floes formed a ridge of ice
which reached to the ship and was level with the rails. Masses of ice
dashed over the decks, and the crashing and grinding were terrible to
hear.

Nansen feared that the ship would be crushed, and orders were given to
put everything in a place of safety. But the stanch vessel held her
own, and came out of the pressure safely. When the danger was over, the
Fram was found to be uninjured, but one of her sides was buried in
the ice mound, which reached six feet above the rails.

About two months later, Nansen set out upon his daring trip toward the
pole. He took Johansen with him, and left the Fram, then in latitude
84° north, in command of Otto Sverdrup. The journey northward had to
be made over difficult ice filled with hummocks, and, worse than this,
a southerly drift set in, which carried the whole pack south almost as
fast as they traveled north. Many of the dogs became utterly exhausted
and had to be killed. It made Nansen very sad to be obliged to part
with the faithful animals who had helped him so much.


At night Nansen and Johansen were so tired that they often fell asleep
while eating their supper. When they crept into their sleeping bags,
their clothes were sometimes frozen stiff, but the heat of their bodies
in their bags thawed them out.

Notwithstanding all these hardships, Nansen and his companion succeeded
in reaching 86° 14ʹ north latitude on April 8, 1895. This was the
highest latitude so far reached by any explorer. The North Pole was but
two hundred and sixty-one miles farther north. Nansen knew he could
not reach the pole through such masses of floes and hummocks, and
accordingly he decided to return, changing his course to the south.
The travelers found many channels between the ice floes, which were
difficult to cross. The dogs were now so few in number that the men had
to do dogs’ work, and drag the sledges. The ice became soft, so that
the ski and the sledges sank deep into it. Sometimes the men sank in up
to their armpits.

Nansen’s report of this journey has led many people to believe that
the warm and the cold ocean currents meet at the pole, and that the
effect of the united currents is to make the ice rotten and dangerous
for travel. Some explorers believe that it is impossible to travel the
last hundred miles of the journey toward the pole by sledge or boat.
They think that the ice is too soft for sledge travel, and too compact
for travel by boat. If this be true, a balloon or airship will have to
be used in order to reach the pole. It is no wonder that Nansen and
Johansen became discouraged.

By June 30, 1895, the two explorers were certain that they would have
to pass the winter in the ice. Nansen knew that he must secure some
game, for his provisions would not last through the winter; therefore
he and Johansen pushed on south as fast as they could, and at last
shot a seal and a bear. Only two dogs were left, and at length they
too had to be shot. One dog was Nansen’s favorite, and the other was
Johansen’s. Nansen took Johansen’s dog behind a hummock, and Johansen
did the same with Nansen’s. Then both guns were fired together and the
faithful dogs were dead. This was the hardest thing these two men had
to do during the journey. When they met again, they felt so sad that
neither of them could speak.

One day, while looking through the telescope, Nansen saw land in the
distance. The two men hastened toward it, and for the first time in two
years they felt the naked earth beneath their feet. It was summer, and
seals, birds, and flowers were all about them. In front lay the open
sea, and Nansen thought he might sail on, and perhaps reach home. But
he was disappointed, for after sailing a short distance, he again found
ice and was obliged to return.

It was now certain that Nansen and Johansen would have to pass the
winter on the island, and they began their preparations for it. They
built a hut of stone, and stretched walrus hides over the roof and
floor. Fortunately game was plenty, so that they shot many seals and
walruses. The blubber of the walrus was a favorite article of diet,
for in cold countries men long for fatty food. It was so cold that
often Nansen and Johansen had to sleep in the same bag in order to keep
warm. Sometimes they drew pieces of blubber out of the lamp and ate
them. These favorite dainties they called biscuit. The walrus hides
attracted the bears and foxes to the hut, so that often during the
winter the men succeeded in securing fresh meat.

The winter was a long and weary one. Though Christmas, 1895, found
them rather low-spirited, they made up their minds to observe the day.
Their celebration consisted of reversing their shirts, and treating
themselves to bread and chocolate. They broke up their camp in the
spring (May, 1896), and started southward by water.

During this trip Nansen nearly lost his life. The men left their kayaks
one day fastened to the edge of the ice, while they went to the top
of a hummock to look around. Presently Johansen shouted, “The kayaks
are adrift.” Both men rushed for the water, and Nansen, reaching it
first, jumped in and swam for the boats. The water was terribly cold
and the boats had drifted a long distance, but Nansen knew that the
loss of the boats meant death to him and his companion. He swam as long
as he could, and then lay on his back and floated, to rest. Again he
tried to swim, but his limbs became stiff and numb so that he could
scarcely move them. Feebly he pushed on until he succeeded in grasping
a ski which was lying across the bow, and so drawing the kayak to him.
It was almost more than his chilled and weary body could accomplish
to pull himself into one of the boats and paddle back. Johansen, who
was anxiously watching, expected every moment to see his companion
sink down unconscious. But Nansen’s iron will and strength conquered.
Johansen gave Nansen a warm drink, and put him to bed in his sleeping
bag.

Two days later Nansen went walrus hunting, and had another narrow
escape. One of the walruses stuck his tusks through the side of the
kayak and nearly upset it, but Nansen struck the walrus with the paddle
until he loosed his hold and swam away.

Shortly after this adventure, Nansen was one day standing on a hummock,
looking round over the vast desert of snow, ice, and rock. Suddenly
he heard a sound like the bark of a dog, and then something very like
the report of a gun. He shouted to Johansen, who called back that he
heard nothing. Nevertheless, Nansen resolved to go in the direction of
the sound, and find out what it was. Off he started over the hummocks.
After traveling some distance he came upon the footprints of an
animal. It might have been the track of a fox or a wolf, but it looked
strangely like the track of a dog. Then Nansen distinctly heard a dog
barking in the distance. Very soon he heard a human voice also. Wild
with excitement and joy, he mounted a hummock and shouted at the top of
his lungs.

An answering shout started him off at full speed in the direction from
which it came. Amid a sea of hummocks, Nansen soon saw the figure
of a man, followed by a dog. The two men walked toward each other,
waving their hats. When they met they shook hands, and after they had
exchanged a few words the stranger looked sharply at Nansen, and said,
“Are you not Nansen?”

“Yes, I am.”

“By Jove! I am glad to meet you.”

The two shook hands again and again. The stranger was Jackson, the
English Arctic explorer, and his ship, the Windward, was expected
every day. Jackson told Nansen that the land on which he stood was
Franz Josef land.

Jackson then sent a man to bring Johansen to his camp, and soon both he
and Nansen were enjoying the comforts of civilized life. After fifteen
months of blubber and bear meat, it was a welcome change to eat the
food of white men, to sleep in beds, to read newspapers and books, and
to have a change of clothing.

It was arranged that Nansen and Johansen should sail with Jackson on
the Windward for Norway. The ship arrived July 26, and August 7,
under a favorable wind, the whole party embarked.

A pilot boarded the vessel when she reached the coast of Norway, and
when he found that Nansen was a passenger, he was amazed. The pilot
told Nansen that everybody thought him dead, for the Fram had not
been heard from. Nansen assured him that the Fram was safe, for he
felt sure that Sverdrup would bring the vessel home.

Immediately after landing, Nansen and Johansen went to a telegraph
office, where they sent many dispatches, so that the wonderful news of
their return was soon received over all parts of the civilized world.

Nansen had succeeded in reaching latitude 86° 14ʹ, farther north than
any other explorer had yet attained, and had returned safely. Millions
of people rejoiced, and Nansen’s name was upon every tongue.

At Hammerfest, Nansen met his wife and Sir George Baden-Powell, who had
been on the point of sending out an expedition in search of him. But
Nansen’s heart was heavy in the midst of all the rejoicing, for no news
had been heard from the Fram, and although he had perfect confidence
in Otto Sverdrup, he began to fear that harm had befallen his brave
comrades.

One morning he was awakened by Sir Baden-Powell knocking at his door.
“Come down immediately,” said Sir Baden; “a man wishes to see you.”
Nansen hurriedly dressed and ran below.

There stood the manager of the telegraph office. The manager handed
Nansen a telegram, which he opened with trembling fingers. It read as
follows:

    “Fram arrived in good condition. All well on board. Am going
    to Tromsö. Welcome home. O. S.”

Nansen nearly fainted with excitement and relief from his terrible
anxiety. Sir Baden shouted with joy. Johansen smiled until his face
looked like a full moon. As soon as the good news of the Fram’s
return became known, the general rejoicing in Hammerfest spread to all
parts of the world.

Nansen’s daring expedition to the North had ended successfully, and
without the loss of a single life. Although Nansen had not reached the
pole, he had come within two hundred and sixty-one miles of it. This
was two hundred miles nearer than any previous explorer had penetrated.
The theory of the southeast current was proved to be correct, for the
Fram had drifted into a high latitude, and then out into the Atlantic
between Spitzbergen and Greenland. If the Fram had entered the ice
pack three hundred miles farther east, Nansen believes that she would
have drifted in a course parallel to the one she actually followed.
This course would have carried her over the pole.




PEARY CROSSES GREENLAND



While Nansen was busily exploring, Robert E. Peary, a civil engineer
in the United States Navy, determined to make an attempt to cross the
inland ice of Greenland. Peary was making his plans for this journey
when the news came that Nansen had succeeded in crossing the ice cap
from the eastern coast of Greenland to the western.

Upon hearing this, Peary changed his plans and decided to try to reach
the northern point of Greenland overland. This journey would take him
across the inland ice by a route much farther north than that taken by
Nansen. It would also enable Peary to discover whether Greenland was a
continent, as many supposed, or merely an island.

Funds for the trip were raised by private contribution through the
efforts of Lieutenant Peary’s friends, and on June 6, 1891, the
expedition sailed from Brooklyn on the steamer Kite. Peary had
already made one trip to Greenland, and his friends waved their
farewells cheerfully, feeling certain that he would succeed in his
undertaking.

After a pleasant voyage, the Kite reached Upernavik, where she
anchored. Peary hoped to secure the services of an interpreter at this
place, but he was unable to do so. Soon the party set sail again,
leaving behind them the northernmost town on the globe. The Kite
steamed along for some time without meeting much ice, but when she
entered Melville bay the pack closed round her, and the 4th of July
found the little vessel snugly frozen in.

Here she remained for a week, during which the average temperature was
about 31° F. On July 11, the ice separated and the ship began to move.
The engines were started in a hurry. After forcing a passage through a
mass of thick ice, the ship was freed and proceeded on her journey.

While the process of ramming the ice was going on, Mr. Peary met with
an accident. A large cake of ice struck the rudder, tearing the wheel
from the hands of the two men on duty. Peary’s leg was caught between
the iron tiller and the house, and both bones snapped above the ankle.
The ship’s surgeon set the broken leg, and Peary recovered rapidly. He
was, however, unable to use his leg for many weeks.

Soon the Kite ran into McCormick bay, where a site for a house was
selected. It was now about the middle of July, and the short summer was
at its height. The sun was bright and warm, and the temperature about
like that of an April day in the temperate zone.

The ice still filled the bay, but narrow streams of water trickled
through in all directions, cutting the ice into great pieces which
rose and fell with the tide. Little brooks ran down the mountains and
through the valleys by the side of great glaciers, while the snowbirds
chirped and twittered, enjoying the brief summer time.

The country around was bright with flowers. Tracks of reindeer, foxes,
and hares were repeatedly noticed, and seals and walruses abounded, so
that the party had no fear of suffering for want of fresh meat.


The wood for the house was taken off the ship. In order to insure
warmth, the walls were made double, with an air space of ten inches
between the outer and inner wall. The house was then covered with
tarred paper, and the inner walls lined with thick, red, Indian
blankets. In addition, a wind-break of stones, turf, empty barrels, and
boxes was built around the house. The dwelling was roofed with canvas,
and in the winter was to be banked with snow. When the little building
was completed, they christened it Red Cliff House, because of the
cliffs of sandstone which rose behind it.

When the stores were safely stowed away within the outer wall, the
Kite steamed away home, leaving Peary, with his wife and his
assistants, to spend the winter within seven hundred and forty miles of
the North Pole.

Peary and his party were very comfortable and contented. They enjoyed
the crisp air and the bright sunshine, and they liked to watch the
beautiful blue-green colors in the ice of the glaciers.

The men hunted, and secured numbers of reindeer skins and furs of all
sorts. They fished, and explored the surrounding islands. While on
these trips they sometimes met Eskimos, who often accompanied them to
Red Cliff House. Some of the Eskimos came with their dog teams, and
Peary was always glad to buy the dogs from them. By November 7 there
were seventeen men, women, and children at the camp, and Peary built a
large snow hut for them to live in.

Soon the long night began and all hunting came to an end. Then the
members of the party busied themselves preparing for the great journey
over the inland ice which Peary intended to make in the spring. The
reindeer skins were stretched and dried and prepared for clothing by
the Eskimo women. In order to soften the skin so that it could be used
for clothing, the women folded it once with the hair inside. Then they
chewed it all along the edge until the fold was made pliable. Another
fold was then made, and treated in the same manner. This process was
continued until the entire skin had been carefully chewed. It was
then scraped, and if necessary, the work was repeated. It took two of
Peary’s best workers about a day to prepare a large buckskin. The teeth
of the Eskimo women are often worn down nearly to the gums by doing
this work.

Peary himself cut the patterns of the clothes and sleeping bags, and
the Eskimo women did the sewing. Peary’s men busied themselves in
trying to make sledges lighter and stronger than anything they had yet
found. They fashioned ivory and horn braces for the sledges. Some of
the Eskimo men helped to make ivory rings for the dogs’ harness. The
Eskimo women chewed and sewed, and everybody was busy and happy.

A large number of Eskimos visited Peary during the winter, some coming
from a distance of two hundred miles. When the white men could not
pronounce the queer names of the Eskimos, they gave them nicknames. A
certain trio were known as the Priest, the Smiler, and the Villain. The
Villain was an entirely harmless Eskimo, whose chief failing was his
huge appetite.

On Christmas Day, Peary invited his Eskimo friends to dinner. After
his own party had partaken of a remarkably good Christmas feast, a
fine venison stew was prepared for the Eskimos. Dr. Cook, the ship’s
surgeon, saw that the guests were clean, to outward appearance at
least, and a jolly, happy party they were, sitting down at a civilized
dinner table for the first time in their lives.

The Eskimo men wore sealskin coats and bearskin trousers, while the
ladies appeared in foxskin jackets and trousers. The Villain sat at the
head of the table and served the repast. The Daisy poured tea in Mrs.
Peary’s place, and conducted herself very gracefully.

Myah, who was called the white man, insisted upon holding both his
knife and spoon in his right hand, and then using his fingers to carry
the food to his mouth. He was rude enough to stand up and try to
harpoon some choice pieces of meat from the stew with his fork. The
Villain reproved him so gravely that he stopped harpooning and turned
his attention to his own plate. It is barely possible that the Villain
was not shocked at the manners of Myah, the white man, but that he
wanted the choice piece of meat himself.

After the stew they had coffee, candy, and raisins, and then the
Eskimos and the white men played games together.

Gradually the long night passed away, and at length it was almost time
for the sun to appear. Peary had ordered an igloo to be built on the
ice cap at an elevation of about two thousand and fifty feet, so that
he might use it when he went up to see the sun rise.

When this igloo was completed, Peary, Dr. Cook, and Astrup started out
one morning, with provisions and sleeping bags, in the hope of catching
a first glimpse of the sun. When they reached the igloo they were very
tired. After supper they took off their fur clothes, crawled into their
sleeping bags, and went to sleep. When Peary awoke, the fine snow was
drifting in his face, and the wind was blowing a terrific gale. The
entrance was blocked with snow, and the three men were buried beneath
the drifts.

Peary rolled himself out with great difficulty, and succeeded in
finding a shovel. Then he and Dr. Cook pulled Astrup out, and the three
men found themselves on top of the drift under which the snow house was
buried. They were without shelter, two thousand feet above sea level,
while the storm was raging so fiercely that they had to shout to one
another in order to be heard.

After a while the snow turned to rain, which froze and covered
everything with ice. Their heavy outside clothes were buried in the
snow house, and they were clad only in their under garments. If it had
not been for the sleeping bags, they would have frozen to death, and
even as it was, their condition was serious. But at length the storm
ceased and the half-frozen men succeeded in digging out their garments.
They were obliged to dress in the open air, with the wind blowing and
the thermometer standing at 3° above zero.

As soon as they were dressed they started for home, and reached Red
Cliff House in safety, warm with exercise. Here, they were informed,
the storm had likewise been terrific. The rain had fallen in torrents,
washing away the snow covering of the house and soaking through the
canvas roof. But Red Cliff House was stanchly built and stood firm.


The long Arctic night had passed away with the storm, and the western
sky was aflame with gorgeous colors; brilliant yellow shaded into pale
rose and green. Misty lights of purple and green floated over the ice,
and the storm was forgotten in the beauty of the new day.

Now that the sun had made its appearance, Peary decided to start on
his white march over the ice cap. On the last day of April three of
the party, accompanied by five Eskimos, left Red Cliff House with two
sledges and twelve dogs. Three days later Peary followed with one
man and a sledge drawn by eight dogs. In a few hours he overtook his
friends and proceeded with them as far as Humboldt glacier, where he
asked for volunteers for the long trip. All of the men were eager to
accompany him, but Astrup was chosen for his companion, and the rest of
the party returned to Red Cliff House.

Peary and Astrup now began their journey to the northern end of
Greenland. They slept during the day and traveled by night, when the
glare of the sun was less trying to their eyes. Peary himself went
first, leading the way. He was followed by three of his best dogs,
harnessed to a light sledge which carried two hundred pounds. These
dogs had become so fond of Peary that they tried always to keep as near
him as possible. They needed no driving or urging, but followed him
into the most dangerous places. In the rear came Astrup, with ten dogs
attached to the big sledge which carried the bulk of the luggage.

Peary had thought himself on top of the ice cap at Humboldt glacier,
but he found that he must climb still higher. As he ascended the
weather became colder, and soon snow began to fall. Worse than all, the
large sledge broke down, but Peary and Astrup mended it and kept on
bravely. At last the weather grew so cold that the snow froze hard, and
the two men were able to travel twenty miles a day.

For weeks Peary and Astrup marched over the great ice, through
snowstorms and furious wind. Whenever fine weather came and the ice
became firm and smooth, they dashed along, forgetting the hardships
they had endured. At length Peary saw land in the distance. Dark brown
and red cliffs, precipices, valleys and mountains, rivers and lakes,
lay stretched out before them. The dogs saw land also, and were as
delighted as the men.

This land looked near, but it was not easy to reach. Men and dogs
slipped and scrambled down the ice crest, through slush and water,
over sharp rocks, across streams, and through valleys. The sun was very
hot, and all the travelers felt the change from the clear cold air of
the inland ice to the heat of the coast region.

The dogs especially suffered from the heat, and this discomfort,
together with their need of fresh meat, made some of them ill. Pau, the
leader of the team, seemed very weak, and Peary feared that he would
die. Pau was a very brave dog, who had killed many polar bears. He
must have had some knowledge of magic; at any rate, he was an expert
in slipping his harness. Whenever he wished to, he could slip out and
away on a trip of his own in search of food. When the other dogs saw
Pau free, they tried to break their harness and follow him, often with
success.

One day Peary saw two black objects on the opposite side of a valley.
At first he thought they were large rocks, but soon he became certain
that they were musk-oxen. Peary patted poor Pau’s head, as if to
tell him that he was going to try to get food for him. Pau seemed to
understand, for his eyes brightened and he wagged his tail.

Peary took his gun and started off in pursuit of the musk-oxen. At last
he came very near them, but so much depended upon his success that he
was seized with trembling. It required a tremendous effort to point
the gun and pull the trigger. The enormous ox looked up curiously, and
walked toward the man, as if to see what the trouble was. Peary then
took aim, fired, and killed him. The other musk-ox tried to run away,
but Peary shot him also.

Astrup and the dogs were frantic with delight. Peary patted each dog on
the head when he returned, as if to assure him of the feast he was to
have. Soon the great, shaggy musk-oxen were skinned and prepared for
food, and a huge hind quarter was carried to the dogs.

The half-starved animals had a royal banquet, and for a while nothing
could be heard but the crunching of bones, and now and then a deep
growl. Pau brightened up and took his place again as leader, seizing
the largest piece of meat without any interference from the other dogs.

Lion was the beautiful leader of the Cape York team. His thick fur was
snowy white, and his mane long and shaggy. Lion knew as much about ice
travel as Peary himself, and he never got tangled in his traces or
tried to eat his harness. Upon this occasion, however, Lion actually
slipped harness. When Peary called him to have it replaced, Lion obeyed
instantly, crouching obediently at his master’s feet.

While Peary was caring for the dogs, Astrup had fashioned a fur couch
from the hides of the musk-oxen, and had broiled some delicious musk-ox
steaks. That night men and dogs fell asleep happy and comfortable.

After climbing over another slope, the company halted on the edge of a
high cliff, the northeastern point of Greenland. Beyond the mainland
they could descry islands in the distance. An icebound channel marked
the northern boundary of Greenland. The large bay spreading out before
them Peary named Independence bay, in honor of the day of discovery,
July 4, 1892. The cliff was called Navy cliff. A cairn was erected upon
Navy cliff, and the stars and stripes was unfurled.

Peary felt well repaid for his weary march. He had succeeded in
reaching latitude 81° 37ʹ 5ʺ north; he had crossed the great ice cap,
and had proved that Greenland is an island; he had looked out upon the
Arctic ocean from a point of land never before reached by civilized
men; and he had gained a clear idea of the northern coast of Greenland.

On the return trip Peary reduced the weight of the packs by throwing
away those articles which he did not expect to need again. On the
evening of July 7 the two men began the climb up the slope to the
inland ice. At one time they were eight thousand feet above the level
of the sea. While they were upon a lofty elevation, a severe storm kept
them prisoners in a snowdrift for sixty hours. Peary and Astrup slept
most of the time. When the wind died away and they crept out of the
drift, dogs and sledges had disappeared. These were soon dug out from
the snow, and the journey was resumed.

About this time Peary discovered, to his alarm, that a quantity of his
canned provisions had spoiled, and there was danger that he might run
short of food. The dogs, too, seemed fagged and low-spirited. They
pulled away in a lifeless manner, with drooping tails and as if they
were utterly discouraged by this endless journey. So many of them
died that only five lived to reach home. When these five dogs at last
scented land, they were filled with new life, and dashed merrily along
down the slope toward McCormick bay.

One day a number of black spots appeared on the white surface of the
snow. These spots proved to be people from the Kite, which had
arrived in the bay and was now waiting to carry Peary and his party
back to the United States. Peary met the new arrivals joyfully, and
soon all were assembled at Red Cliff House. Great was the rejoicing
when Peary told of the success of his journey over the inland ice.

The results of this great sledge journey of twelve hundred miles across
Greenland were very important. Greenland was proved beyond dispute to
be an island. Smaller islands free from ice had been discovered north
of Greenland. A large part of the inland ice had been traversed and
its character studied. The shores of Inglefield gulf and Whale and
Murchison sounds had been charted. Many glaciers were discovered,
and careful observations made of the climate and tides. Considerable
information had been gained concerning a tribe of Eskimos called the
Arctic Highlanders, heretofore almost unknown.

In a few weeks preparations began for the return voyage. During the
latter part of the summer, Mr. and Mrs. Peary and their companions
bade farewell to Red Cliff House, and sailed for home on the Kite.
Together with the members of the Red Cliff household who embarked on
the Kite were the five faithful dogs that had helped to carry Peary
to Independence bay and back again. Among them were Pau and Lion.

The Kite stopped at Godthaab on her way southward, and again at
St. John’s, Newfoundland. From St. John’s the vessel was detained by
head winds, but at last the Delaware breakwater was reached. A short
distance below Philadelphia the Kite was met by a tugboat, carrying
a party of Mr. Peary’s friends. They were soon on board the Kite,
listening to the wonderful story of the discoveries and adventures of
the Arctic travelers.


In 1893 Peary made another trip to North Greenland, and this time
remained two years and one month. He made a second sledge journey of
twelve hundred miles to Independence bay, and surveyed a large area of
the country around Whale sound. During this trip, he also discovered
the great Cape York meteorites.

Meteorites are stones, largely composed of iron, which fall to the
earth from the heavens. They are supposed to follow in the train of
meteors, or shooting stars. These pieces of meteoric iron differ from
any kind of rock found upon the earth. They are covered with a thin,
brownish black crust, and look very different from the iron which we
obtain from mines. All meteorites are carefully preserved, placed in
museums, and studied.

Many Eskimos had already told Peary of the wonderful iron mountain near
Cape York, but up to this time he had been too busy to search for it.
Now he found an Eskimo who promised to conduct him to the spot. This
Eskimo said that he would find three great pieces of iron, the smallest
about the size of a dog. One was near the water, and the other two were
upon the side of the mountain.

With fresh dogs Peary and the Eskimo were soon galloping over hard ice
toward Cape York. After a long journey the Eskimo conducted Peary to
the great brown mass.

He told Peary that his people believed that the iron mass had been an
Eskimo woman, who with her dog and her tent was hurled from the sky by
the Evil Spirit. One of the great piles used to look like the figure of
a woman in a sitting position, but the natives had chipped off many
pieces of it and carried them away. They used these pieces of iron for
making knives and for harpoon points.

One tribe attempted to carry off the entire head. They lashed it to a
sledge and started for home, when suddenly the sea rose with a loud
noise, and the head disappeared into the water, carrying the sledge and
dogs with it. The Eskimos barely escaped with their lives, and since
that time not the smallest fragment of the heavenly woman had been
disturbed.

Near the great mass of iron, called “the woman,” was another, called
“the dog.” About six miles south of these was the third and largest,
called “the tent.”


The coast where these meteorites were found is the bleakest and
most desolate region of the Arctic land. Biting winds blow almost
continuously, and iceberg after iceberg drifts slowly past on its
journey southward. It is almost impossible for a vessel to reach this
coast.

Notwithstanding the difficulty and danger of the work, Peary succeeded
in bringing all of these meteorites to New York. Those known as “the
woman” and “the dog” reached New York in 1895, and on October 2, 1897,
the Hope deposited the one known as “the tent” at the Brooklyn navy
yard. This weighs ninety tons and is the largest known meteorite in the
world.

Peary’s two trips across Greenland are classed among the most
brilliant geographical feats of recent years. His efforts extended the
exploration of the east coast of Greenland two degrees.

In 1899 Peary again visited the Arctic regions. He reached Fort Conger
in March, 1900, and the next month, with his colored servant, Matthew
Henson, and five Eskimos, started to explore the northern coast of
Greenland. He reached Cape Washington, where he erected a cairn,
and then pushing on, he rounded the northern limit of the Greenland
archipelago at latitude 83° 39ʹ north, from which point the coast
extended southward.

At this place, the most northerly known land in the world, Peary built
a cairn and inclosed records of his trip. He then changed the direction
of his course and turned northward, traveling over sea ice toward the
pole. He proceeded in this direction until he reached latitude 83° 50ʹ
north, where he found it impossible to continue the journey farther. He
therefore returned to the Greenland coast, and made explorations which
enabled him to complete a chart of the northern coast of that island.
Upon the completion of this work he returned to Fort Conger, arriving
there June 10, 1900, without accident or illness. During this trip, the
temperature ranged from 20° above to 35° below zero.

The winter of 1900 and 1901 was spent at Fort Conger, where game was
plentiful. The men passed most of their time hunting, and succeeded in
slaying nearly two hundred musk-oxen.

In the spring of 1901 Peary made a second attempt to reach the pole,
this time from the northern point of Grinnell land, using Fort Conger
as a base. But he was again obliged to turn back. Still undismayed,
Peary planned to make another dash for the pole during the spring of
1902. This expedition was also unsuccessful, and Peary returned to the
United States in the fall of 1902, without having discovered the North
Pole. But he accomplished valuable geographical work, and has added
greatly to our knowledge of Greenland and Grinnell land.

Among the important results of Peary’s work are:

First: The rounding of the northern limit of the Greenland archipelago,
the most northerly known land in the world.

Second: The attainment of the highest latitude in the Western
Hemisphere, 83° 50ʹ north.

Third: The discovery of the character of the inland ice.




ANDRÉE’S BALLOON EXPEDITION TO THE POLE



One of the most hazardous attempts to reach the pole was that made by
S. A. Andrée in his balloon. Andrée was born in Sweden in 1854, and
was carefully educated. He became a mechanical engineer, and held an
important position under the Swedish government.

In 1876 he visited America to attend the Centennial Exposition in
Philadelphia. While crossing the ocean he noted the regularity of the
trade winds, which led him to believe that balloon voyages might be
made across the Atlantic. Some years later Andrée passed a winter in
Spitzbergen, directing experiments and observations in atmospheric
electricity. This scientific work strengthened his belief that a
balloon might be navigated through the air in much the same manner as a
ship through water.

From this time Andrée studied the construction of balloons with great
care, and in 1895 he astonished the world by making known his plan to
reach the North Pole by means of an air route. He needed the sum of
$36,000 in order to carry out his project. This amount was generously
provided by King Oscar and two citizens of Sweden.

Then Andrée set about the work of having a balloon constructed which
would suit his purpose. He went to Paris, and secured the services of
the most noted balloon maker in the world. This man built a balloon
for Andrée which was ninety-seven feet high by sixty-seven feet in
diameter. It was made of three thicknesses of silk, and varnished over
twice, inside and out. It was handled by means of valves. The whole
balloon was covered with a network of hemp, ending in forty-eight
suspension ropes, to which the wooden bearing ring was attached.

The car, shaped like a cylinder and made of wicker, was covered with
tarpaulin, and was intended for rest and sleep. The place for work and
observation was a swinging gallery, which also served for the roof
of the car. In this gallery the scientific instruments were kept.
Andrée took with him thermometers, barometers, cameras, and every sort
of needful apparatus. The car contained a sleeping bag, and stores
of books, maps, toilet articles, arms, and ammunition. The balloon
was built to carry three passengers. While one slept, the other two
expected to remain on the roof, taking observations and guiding the
balloon.

The bearing ring was the main storeroom. Crosspieces of wood formed
a floor, upon which many necessary articles were packed. Boats,
sledges, sails, ropes, and provisions of all kinds were stored away in
forty-eight large sacks, which were hung to the bearing ring. Andrée
had provisions enough to last for nine months, and everything was
packed so as to occupy as little space as possible.

Three sails and three guide ropes were arranged to aid in steering the
balloon. The long guide ropes trailed behind the balloon, serving the
purpose of a rudder. The sails caught the wind, increased the speed,
and permitted change of direction.

In 1896, the balloon and all the supplies were taken to Dane’s island,
near Spitzbergen, but as the desired south wind did not blow, Andrée
returned to Sweden. In May, 1897, Andrée and his companions again went
to Dane’s island. A balloon house was built, engines were set up for
producing hydrogen gas, and in due time the balloon was inflated. By
July 1 everything was ready.

Andrée and his two companions now waited anxiously for a south wind,
which they believed would blow them to the North Pole. They waited ten
days, until, on the morning of July 11, 1897, a strong, steady wind
from the south was blowing.

Great was the excitement on Dane’s island when the men began to tear
down the house where the balloon was imprisoned, and attach the car.
At 2.30 P.M., July 11, 1897, Andrée and his two companions, Nils
Strindberg and Knut Fraenkel, jumped into the car, and gave orders to
cut the last ropes.


Slowly the immense, airy structure rose to a height of a few hundred
feet, and sailed in a northerly direction out over Dane’s gate. Then
it dropped suddenly, as if it had received a current of air from above,
and almost touched the sea. Andrée threw out some sand bags, when the
balloon rose again to a height of about three thousand feet, and sailed
away in the same northerly direction. About an hour after the start, it
was lost to sight in the clouds.

Some days later a carrier pigeon was shot in the rigging of an Arctic
schooner off Spitzbergen. The pigeon had a message from Andrée tied
under its wing. The message was dated July 13, and stated that the
balloon sailed one hundred and forty-five geographical miles to the
northward, and then headed east. It had traveled forty-five miles
eastward when the pigeon was sent out.

From that day to this, no other message has been received from Andrée.
Andrée believed that his balloon would float for six weeks, but the
men who watched the start, said that it lost much gas and much ballast
before it passed out of sight. They thought that it might have floated
about fifteen days. Two thirds of the guide ropes, upon which Andrée
depended for steering, were also lost at starting. At first the balloon
traveled about twenty-five or thirty miles an hour. At this rate of
speed, sailing northward, Andrée should have reached the pole in
less than two days. But every ray of sunshine, every puff of colder
or warmer wind, cause a balloon to rise or fall, and the methods of
guiding and handling the delicate appliance are not yet thoroughly
understood.

No one knows what happened to the balloon after it rose out of sight of
the men on Dane’s island. For several years Andrée’s friends refused to
believe that he had perished. They thought that he might be wandering
about in the Frozen North in the care of some of the Eskimo tribes.
Many stories have reached us from time to time bearing upon the fate of
Andrée, but upon investigation they have all proved to be false. The
only authentic trace which has been found is a buoy picked up northeast
of Spitzbergen in 1899. This buoy was taken to Sweden, and proved to be
the one which Andrée had taken with him for the purpose of dropping it,
with a letter, in case he crossed the pole. No letter was found, but
an anchor was attached to the buoy. This led to the supposition that
the buoy and anchor were thrown out to lighten the balloon and keep it
afloat a while longer, or else that the balloon had been lost in the
sea and the buoy and anchor had drifted away.

It is now generally believed that Andrée and his two companions lost
their lives through the descent of the balloon into the ocean.




EXPEDITIONS 


During the spring of 1902, several expeditions were at work in the
Northern regions, each hoping to be the first to reach the pole.

One of the most important was the Ziegler-Baldwin expedition, equipped
by Mr. William Ziegler of New York, and commanded by Mr. Evelyn Briggs
Baldwin. This was the largest and probably the best equipped expedition
sent out. Baldwin had two ships, four hundred Eskimo dogs, and fifteen
Siberian ponies. His flagship, the America, was a stoutly built
whaler and carried a cargo of six hundred tons. His other ship, the
Fridtjof, carried the scientific instruments.

Through the generosity of Mr. Ziegler, practically perfect scientific
apparatus accompanied the expedition, and Mr. Baldwin was assisted by
experts in geographical charting, geology, botany, and meteorology.
Both the America and the Fridtjof reached Franz Josef land, but
very little significant work was accomplished. Instead of wintering
in the North as had been planned, Mr. Baldwin returned to Norway. Mr.
Ziegler, however, has not faltered in his determination to find the
pole, and he has sent out another expedition for that purpose which is
now in the North.

A Russian expedition excited widespread interest. Admiral Marakoff
constructed an ice-breaking steamship, and with it expected to
force his way through the ice to the pole. The steamer is called the
Ermack, and is a very powerful ship, able to stand fifteen times the
strain which may safely be brought to bear upon the average steel ship.
In breaking the ice, the Ermack rises upon it and crushes it down.
The forward propeller sucks away the water underneath the ice, and thus
reduces the resistance.

Admiral Marakoff believed that the ice near the pole was thin, and that
his ship would be able to steam directly to that long-sought-for goal.
But in battling against the wide and heavy ice floes of the Arctic
ocean, the Ermack proved a failure. It is said, however, that she
made five successful trips between Nova Zembla and Franz Josef land.

Another expedition, the progress of which was watched with interest,
was that of the Duke of Abruzzi, who is cousin to the king of Italy.
He started for the North Pole in the Stella Polare, in 1899. In the
spring of 1900, he succeeded in arriving within 239.15 statute miles of
the pole. This record surpassed Nansen’s by twenty-three miles, and is,
therefore, the best yet made.

It is said that Abruzzi and Nansen will join in command of an
expedition which will start from Franz Josef land. Both men have done
valuable work in the icy North, and important results are expected from
their united efforts.

Captain Bernier, a French Canadian, planned to enter the Arctic by way
of Bering strait. He expected then to travel over the route taken by
the Jeannette. Bernier hoped to be carried near the pole by the ice
drift. When he had reached a suitable place, he intended to leave his
ship and proceed to the pole by means of dog sledges, reindeer sledges,
and boats. The newly invented system of wireless telegraphy was to be
used by Captain Bernier, as a means of communication with his ship.

Captain Otto Sverdrup, in command of the Fram, was already in the
North in 1902. Sverdrup won his spurs, you will remember, while on the
famous Nansen expedition. He was sent out by the Norwegian government
to explore the northern coast of Greenland, and to connect Peary’s work
on the east coast with that of a German expedition on the west coast.

Robert Stein’s expedition had not the proper equipment to seek the
pole, but was designed for the exploration of Ellesmere land. Stein
returned without accomplishing much valuable work.

A novel plan has been announced by Dr. Anschutz Kampfe. Dr. Kampfe
proposes to build a submarine boat, and proceed to the pole beneath the
ice.

For more than three hundred years, men have struggled to reach the
North Pole. They have braved bitter winds and faced starvation and
death, in order to wrest the secrets of nature from the great white
North.

Since Sir John Franklin’s first trip to the Arctic regions, interest
in the Frozen North has never flagged. Very grave doubts as to the
wisdom of spending so large sums of money and of risking so many human
lives have arisen in the minds of those who have followed the story
of suffering and death. It is natural in this century, when men are
counting the cost of every project, to ask wherein lies the advantage
of exploring the polar country, since the work is in every case so
difficult, so dangerous, and in many cases fatal. But we may feel sure
that the work will never cease until every part of the Frozen North is
known.

Beyond the additions to our store of meteorological knowledge, and
of botanical and geological facts, there has been a decided addition
to the world’s wealth by Arctic exploration: not in money, but in
character; not in conquest, but in heroism; not in material success,
but in those experiences which make men strong and enduring. The world
is already richer in mines and money than it is in men of courage
and in high acts of duty and bravery. Thrilling deeds, glorious
perseverance, and unwearied patience are the noblest fruits of Arctic
exploration.




THE DISCOVERY OF THE NORTH POLE BY ROBERT E. PEARY



The struggle to reach the North Pole was still waging. Robert E. Peary
was not a man to give up until he had reached the goal. The Peary
Arctic Club again gave him financial assistance, and a vessel was
constructed that could be forced through dense ice. Theodore Roosevelt
was then President of the United States, and Commander Peary called his
ship the Roosevelt, because, as he said, the name stood for strength
and determination.

In June, 1905, he set sail, and reached the north coast of Grant Land,
where he spent the winter, and in the spring he started northward with
sledges and dogs. He made his way to 87° 6ʹ on April 21, 1906. This was
less than two hundred miles from the Pole, and was the best record as
yet.

Even for the far North that season was unusually severe. Violent winds
and snowstorms separated the explorer from his supply depots, and he
was forced to return, killing his dogs for food on the way. He was not
discouraged, for he felt that every failure gave him more experience,
which would enable him to achieve success some day.

The Peary Arctic Club again helped him, and Zenas Crane and many other
public-spirited men sent donations of money. The death of Morris K.
Jesup was a severe blow to him. Mr. Jesup had given him much support,
both by his belief in Peary’s ability to reach the Pole, and by
rendering financial aid to the expedition.

When, through the efforts of General Hubbard, president of the Peary
Arctic Club, the needed money was at last procured, Peary completed his
plans. He believed that in order to reach the Pole he must adopt the
manner of life of the Eskimos. These natives of the Arctic zone know
how to travel over the icy seas with less discomfort and danger than
any other people.

Peary again, as in his previous expeditions, decided to engage the
hardy Eskimos from Whale Sound, with their dogs, for the mainstay
of his party, and to take with him as few white men as possible.
The expedition was thus mostly made up of natives accustomed to the
difficulties and hardships of Arctic travel.

Then came the question of selecting the white men who were to accompany
him. The following were chosen: Captain Robert A. Bartlett, as master
of the Roosevelt; George A. Wardwell, chief engineer; Dr. J. W.
Goodsell, surgeon; Matthew A. Henson, Peary’s negro assistant, who had
been with him on many Arctic voyages, an excellent dog driver, and able
to manage a sledge nearly as well as the best Eskimo driver; Ross G.
Marvin of Cornell, Donald B. McMillan of Worcester, Mass., and George
Borup of Yale, as assistants.

On July 6, 1908, the expedition sailed from New York on the
Roosevelt, and July 17 from Sydney, Cape Breton. At the start, the
white members of the party numbered twenty-two, and at Etah Peary found
plenty of Eskimos willing to go with him.

These Eskimos, known as the Whale Sound Eskimos, are the most northerly
race known. They migrate along the coast from Cape York to Etah, and
are remarkable for their strength and endurance. From among them Peary
selected his company; here, also, he procured many fine dogs, without
whose help and service the Pole could not have been reached.

The Roosevelt steamed northward from Etah, pushing her way through
the ice pack towards Cape Sheridan, on the northern coast of Grant
Land. During the trip the Eskimo men were put to work making sledges
and harness, and the women began to make winter garments for the men.
There was much sewing to be done, for the white men wore in winter just
the same kind of clothing that the Eskimos did.

McMillan, Borup, and Dr. Goodsell found amusement in watching the women
at their sewing. Sitting on the ground or whatever is nearest, they
take off their footgear and put out one foot. Then holding one end of
the material between their toes, using the foot as a third hand, they
sew the seam away from them, instead of toward them as our women do. It
looked odd enough, but the spectators had to admit that the work was
done well. The Eskimos sewed the furs and skins together so closely and
skillfully that the cold could not creep through.

These industrious women made stockings and mittens of fur, boots of
skins, trousers of skins of the polar bear, jackets of deer or fox
skin, and hoods of fur, finished around the face with thick rolls of
foxtails.

All were happy and comfortable for a while, but as they advanced the
ice became thicker and the ship was in great danger. It took all
Peary’s knowledge of the coast, and all Bartlett’s skill in navigation,
to keep the Roosevelt from being crushed in the ice.

Every person on board, both whites and Eskimos, tied his most necessary
belongings into a bundle and stood ready to jump over the side of the
boat at a moment’s notice in case the ship should be destroyed. But
skill and perseverance conquered, and the Roosevelt reached Cape
Sheridan in safety.

Here on the shore of the Arctic sea the party wintered, spending their
time in massing supplies at places farther north, where they were
likely to be needed later. Hunting was good, musk oxen, bear, and deer
were plentiful, and large supplies of fresh meat were obtained. The men
of science took tidal and meteorological observations, and a happy and
busy winter was spent.

On October 12 the party said goodbye to the sun; the twilight darkened
and the long Arctic night set in. Peary did not wait for the sun to
return, but as soon as it was light enough to travel he renewed the
journey to the Pole.

On February 15, 1909, the first detachment of the sledge party under
Captain Bartlett left Cape Sheridan for Cape Columbia, the most
northern point of Grant Land. The other detachments followed on
successive days, and on February 22, Peary started the last of all.
From Cape Columbia he planned to travel directly north over the ice of
the Polar sea for a distance of four hundred and thirteen geographical
miles. This would take him to 90° north latitude, i.e., to the North
Pole.

By traveling in detachments a path once opened was kept open. The first
detachment accomplished the difficult work of breaking a way through
the ice, the second detachment found travel easier, and the third found
it still easier. Thus the strength both of the men and the dogs of the
last detachment was saved for the final march.

The party was to return by the same route as the one they advanced by,
the supporting parties keeping the trail open for the rapid return of
the main party. They were also able to use many of the same igloos
in returning, so that the labor of building them was avoided and the
strength of the men economized. The plan of march resembled that of a
relay race, with which all girls and boys are familiar.

The entire sledge party on leaving the ship numbered seven whites,
nineteen Eskimos, one hundred and forty dogs, and twenty-eight sledges.
On March 1, 1909, Bartlett’s party left land, setting out over the sea
ice for the north, the distance from the mainland to the Pole being
four hundred and seventy-five statute miles.

Think of starting on a journey of that length on foot with no certainty
of even necessary food, and over a rough expanse of ice and snow.
These brave men never faltered. As the party drew near the Pole, the
supporting detachments were sent back one after another. The last
detachment sent back was that under Captain Bartlett, who had given
such valuable assistance in leading the pioneer party.

Peary felt sorry to part with Captain Bob, as he familiarly called
him, and Captain Bob was sorry in his turn to go. He had reached 87°
47ʹ north latitude, and was nearer to the North Pole than any other
explorer had yet been. It had been his ambition to reach 88°, but there
was no time to spare, and though disappointed, he obeyed his commander
cheerfully, like a good soldier. He had surpassed the Italian record by
one degree and a quarter.

Peary was now left with only five companions, Matt Henson, his colored
servant, and four Eskimos; he also had forty dogs and five sledges. He
was one hundred and thirty-three nautical miles from the Pole, and he
planned to make five marches of at least twenty-five miles each, and
then cover the remaining distance by pushing on with a light sledge and
a double team of dogs.

After a rest and some repairing of the sledges the little party started
northward. The sun shone brightly out of a deep blue sky, and a finer
morning for the journey could not be imagined. Except for some pressure
ridges which were nearly fifty feet in height, the ice was hard and
level. The ridges corresponding to hills on land were not as hard to
pass over as were the leads of water which Peary had met with before
during the journey.

With weather in their favor the party made great progress. In one march
of twelve hours thirty miles were covered. As they neared the Pole, the
wind grew bitterly cold. Even the Eskimos complained of it, and said
that their noses would freeze. This was unusual, for the nose of an
Eskimo is supposed to be so hardy that no frosty winds could freeze it.
But all soon forgot the cold in their joy in drawing near the Pole.

On April 6, 1909, at ten A.M. the last march ended, and Peary found by
his observations that he had arrived at 89° 57ʹ north latitude. Here
the party camped, and Peary called the place Camp Morris K. Jesup in
honor of the man who had done so much to further discoveries in the
Arctic regions.

From Camp Jesup, Peary traveled on about ten miles beyond the Pole,
crossing and recrossing in several directions over a radius of ten
miles. Strange were his feelings when he stood at the place where
north, east, and west were eliminated, and every direction was south.
He was also at a place where there is in the year but one night and one
day, each six months in length. The stars circle round overhead during
the night and the sun during the day.

As far as the eye could reach was a vast, white expanse of ice. No
living creature was to be seen, no sign of life anywhere, only a great
silence, a great whiteness, and dazzling sunlight. Peary placed the
American flag in the ice. The Eskimos and Henson gave three cheers, and
all shook hands.

The Eskimos did not understand what made Peary so happy, but they did
know that he had succeeded in reaching a wonderful spot, which he had
searched for during many years.

Thirty hours were spent at the Pole taking observations and
photographs. The maximum temperature was -12° and the minimum was
-30° Fahrenheit. Peary put records of his journey and a piece of the
American flag in a glass bottle, and wedged it in between blocks of
ice and left it. As the ice is constantly shifting and changing its
position, it is hard to tell where this bottle may drift.

The ice at the Pole was too thick for Peary to measure the depth of the
ocean. But on returning he found a place, five miles from the Pole,
where the ice was thinner. He succeeded in making a hole with a pickax
and dropped his sounding lead. The wire ran out to a depth of fifteen
hundred fathoms (nine thousand feet) without touching bottom. Then the
wire broke, and it and the lead were lost. We do not know how much
deeper the Polar ocean may be.

The return journey to land was made by forced marches of about
twenty-nine and a half miles a day. This speed was made possible by the
lighter sledge loads, and the fact that they were retracing their steps
over a trail kept partially open by the other detachments. But the
Eskimos said, “The devil is asleep, or we never should have come back
so easily!” Peary knew that they came back easily because of favorable
weather and ice conditions, and because his plans had been wise.

When the party came in sight of the Roosevelt again, the joy of the
men cannot be described. Captain Bartlett saw them and went out to meet
them. His face was sad, and Peary felt that he was to hear some bad
news. Bartlett then told him of the death of Marvin by drowning while
on his return march. Peary felt keenly the loss of his brave companion
who had accomplished so much valuable work, and who had made himself
respected and loved.

All the members of the party resumed their duties, and the first was to
reward the faithful Eskimos who had worked and served so well. Peary
gave them hatchets, knives, shot-guns, rifles, and tools of all kinds.
They were much pleased and felt as rich as millionaires.

As soon as the ice permitted, the Roosevelt left her winter quarters
and sailed southward, stopping at Etah and Cape York, and arriving
at Sydney, Cape Breton, September 21, 1909, where she received an
enthusiastic welcome.

On September 1, 1909, while Peary and his party were still in the
north, the world was startled by a telegraphic message from a Danish
steamer, saying: “We have on board the American traveler, Dr. Cook, who
reached the North Pole, April 21, 1908.”

The next morning the New York Herald published an account of the
great discovery cabled by Cook himself. It said that he had reached the
Pole on the date just mentioned, and that “it was a cheerless spot,
an endless field of purple snows.” Two days later Dr. Cook landed at
Copenhagen and was greeted with cheers, and great honors were bestowed
upon him.

Two days later another telegram was received by the Associated Press of
New York, which read:

    “Stars and stripes nailed to the North Pole.

    “PEARY.”

There was great excitement all over the civilized world. Messages
continued to arrive from Peary fixing the date of his arrival at the
Pole, April 6, 1909. Cook claimed to have reached the pole a year
earlier, April 21, 1908. Why had he kept silent so long? Discussion
grew, and scientists demanded proof and data from both men.

The records of Dr. Cook were submitted to the University of Copenhagen,
and their final report was made public December 21, 1910. It declared
that the papers and documents submitted to it by Dr. Cook contained
no observations or explanations to prove that Dr. Cook had reached the
Pole.

That Peary reached the Pole was never doubted. The National
Geographical Society after careful examination of his records reported
that they were unanimous in the opinion that Commander Peary reached
the North Pole, April 6, 1909.

The following resolutions were adopted:

    “Whereas, Commander Robert E. Peary has reached the North
    Pole, the goal sought for centuries, and

    Whereas, this is the greatest geographical achievement that
    this society can have opportunity to honor, therefore

    Resolved, that a special medal be awarded to Commander Peary.”

Medals and honors were bestowed upon him by many scientific societies
at home and abroad, and he was promoted to the rank of Rear Admiral in
the United States Navy, and given the thanks of Congress.

The Frozen North has given up its secret. Man’s persistence has
conquered, and 90° north has been attained.

Rear Admiral Peary and all the brave men, who for nearly four hundred
years struggled to reach the North Pole, will be held in honor by their
countrymen for all time.

    NOTE. A fathom is six feet; a statute mile 5280 feet; a
    geographical mile 6080 feet.