Nearest the Pole: a narrative of the polar expedition of the Peary Arctic Club in the S.S. Roosevelt, 1905-1906Peary, Robert E. (Robert Edwin)
History
Nearest the Pole: a narrative of the polar expedition of the Peary Arctic Club in the S.S. Roosevelt, 1905-1906
Peary, Robert E. (Robert Edwin)
Arctic regions
It was well that I had discounted the loss of my provisions at the lead.
Soon after midnight, my two men returned reporting that they had lost
the trail beyond the first igloo south of where we were, and had been
stopped by open water and completely shattered ice extending as far as
they could see from the highest pinnacles.
It was evident that I could no longer count in the slightest degree upon
my supporting parties, and that whatever was to be done now, must be
done with the party, the equipment, the supplies which I had with me.
Unfortunately the party was larger than it need be (eight of us in all),
and the supplies much smaller than I could have wished. I gave my men
their supper and turned over for another nap while they obtained a few
hours’ sleep. I had no occasion to think or worry, I knew already what I
should do in this contingency.
Early in the morning we started after abandoning everything which we did
not absolutely need, and I bent every energy to setting a record pace.
In the legacy of irretrievable damage which the storm had left us was
one small codicil of good. Such snow as the wind had not torn from the
face of the floes was beaten and banked hard, and the snow which had
fallen had been hammered into the areas of rough ice and the shattered
edges of the big floes, so that they gave us little trouble. North of
Storm Camp we had no occasion for snowshoes or pickaxes.
The first march of ten hours, myself in the lead with the compass,
sometimes on a dog-trot, the sledges following in Indian file with
drivers running beside or behind, placed us thirty miles to the good; my
Eskimos said forty.
At the end of the march I was a tired man. Had raised blisters on the
bottom of both my feet, and soft as I was after the days in camp, was
sore in every bone with the rapid pace, which was not less than three
miles an hour. My Eskimos insisted it was nearer four.
The next day the wind was blowing a half gale from west southwest (true)
with a great deal of drift. But we had no time to waste in camp, when
possible to travel at all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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