In the domain of non-commercial exploration three phases are to be noted: Nansen's "Farthest North" in the 'nineties, Peary's Conquest of the North Pole in 1909, and the Antarctic tragedy of 1912. Nansen's gallant effort was happily above criticism; and his fame, won in this arduous field, has of late been enhanced by his disinterested and humane persistence in the relief of the victims of the Great War. Peary's triumph, though great and incontrovertible, was clouded at the time by the extraordinary controversy which arose out of the rival claim of another American explorer, Dr. Cook. His story, according to which he had reached the Pole before Peary, was accepted at Copenhagen and did not lack a certain amount of American backing. In his earliest comments on the contradictory reports _Punch_ preserved an attitude of judicious caution, tempered with ironic satisfaction that the rival claimants were both Americans. But the publication of Dr. Cook's narrative converted this suspense of judgment into incredulity and even ridicule. The name of Dr. Cook's chief native witness, "Etukishook," was, to put it mildly, unfortunate. _Punch's_ final comment took the form of a cartoon in which the American Eagle was shown sitting on the top of the "Big Nail" and complacently remarking: "My Pole, anyway!" [Sidenote: _The Antarctic Tragedy_] From Dr. Cook's narrative to the journals of Captain Scott is a step from the ridiculous to the sublime. Here, again, there had been rivalry, but rivalry without dispute. The goal had been reached by Roald Amundsen, the Norwegian explorer, only a few weeks before Scott and his four companions, Captain Oates, Dr. Wilson, Lieutenant Bowers and Petty Officer Evans--all of them "names to resound for ages." In March, 1912, "Captain Scott and his gallant comrades reached the South Pole and died on their homeward way." With this brief sentence _Punch_ prefaces his memorial verses on what was at once the most tragic and heroic episode in all the long annals of Polar exploration:-- Not for the fame that crowns a gallant deed, They fixed their fearless eyes on that far goal, Steadfast of purpose, resolute at need To give their lives for toll. But in the service of their kind they fared, To probe the secrets which the jealous Earth Yields only as the prize of perils dared, The wage of proven worth. So on their record, writ for all to know-- The task achieved, the homeward way half-won-- Though cold they lie beneath their pall of snow, Shines the eternal sun. O hearts of metal pure as finest gold! O great example, where our sons may trace, Too proud for tears, their birthright from of old, Heirs of the Island Race!