The Pole (22 page)

“We have to get to the igloo. We have to get dry clothing,” I said.

With the Commander leaning heavily against me we moved, slowly, across the ice. The igloo wasn't far.We were going to make it.We were going to live!

I SIPPED
the warm, strong coffee that the Commander had made after we had both changed into dry clothing. He had a blanket around his shoulders as well. He'd been in the water a lot longer than me and was still shaking.We hadn't exchanged many words.We just sat there, drinking our coffee. It was good coffee. It felt good going down and formed a hot pocket in the middle of my stomach, from which little feelers of warmth were starting to spread.

“More?” Commander Peary asked as he held out the pot.

“Yes … please … sir,” I said, offering my cup.

As he filled it I noticed that his hand was shaking badly.

“Thanks.”

“It should be me thanking you,” Commander Peary said. “First you save my daughter's life, and now you save her father's. I would have died out there without your help.”
I didn't know what to say. I just stared down at my coffee.

“I thought I
was
going to die,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee. “I just thought about letting go … slipping under the water … giving in to the cold.”

That was the last thing I had ever expected him to say.

“And the thought that I was going to die wasn't frightening. It was peaceful, almost reassuring.” He looked up at me. “I thought about how the Pole was slipping out of my grasp and how death was a welcome alternative. I would have died a hero rather than lived as a failure.”

We sat there in silence, sipping our coffee, letting his words sink in.

“Have you ever felt like giving up?” Commander Peary asked.

“When my mother died,” I said, without even needing to think. I'd never said that to anybody before.

“That must have been an awful time. But you didn't … you didn't give up.”

“I wanted to, but I didn't.”

“Do you know the difference between failure and success?” Commander Peary asked.

I shook my head.

“Success is simply failure that refused to give up. And that is why, after failing before and again, I will now reach the Pole. I will be remembered not as a
failure, not as a hero who perished in the effort, but as the conqueror of the Pole … Peary of the Pole.”

“I always knew you were going to make it to the Pole,” I said.

“Even when I was in the water?”

“Yes, sir. No doubt.”

“You are a true blessing, Danny.” He paused. “I would consider it a great favour if you did not repeat this conversation,” Commander Peary said.

“I won't, sir. I won't tell anybody anything about what happened.”

“That might be wise. It would not be good for the morale of the men.They need to see me as a tower of confidence.”

“That is how they do see you, sir.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Then let us keep it that way.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

APRIL 1, 1909

THE DOGS
had all been fed. I circled around the sledge so that it was between me and the wind and slumped down to the ice. I pulled a piece of jerky out of my pocket and chomped down on it.There was no taste to it. That didn't surprise me. Nothing tasted good, or bad, or anything. It was no longer food. It was just fuel. It was just like throwing another log on a fire to keep it burning.That was the reason we ate, to keep the fire burning inside of us, to fuel us to keep moving forward. I thought back to when the pemmican tasted bad. And then it tasted good. Now it tasted like nothing.

It had been twenty-five days … or was it twenty-six days since we'd left the camp? It could have been either, or maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight. I'd stopped trying to keep track. It all just blurred together. Day after day, hour after hour, moving
across the frozen waste. Mostly it was just an endless stream of movement across a world without colour or warmth or end, broken up by fitful disturbed sleep and the occasional burst of panic. Somebody falling through the ice, a close brush with a polar bear, dogs breaking free in the night and needing to be caught.

Since the Big Lead, since the Commander and I had gone through the ice, I had been with him and Matt. The Captain kept breaking trail along with George and Oatah and sometimes Seegloo and Ookeah. Mr. Marvin, Dr. Goodsell, and Mr. MacMillan sometimes were with us, sometimes in front, and sometimes behind, bringing up supplies. And, of course, there was also a steady stream of Eskimos bringing provisions forward, re-supplying us with what we needed to keep surging toward the Pole.

“Mind if I join you?” It was George.

We had caught up with George and his group yesterday, and there had been so many small ridges for them to cut through that they hadn't been able to pull away from us again. He sat down beside me.

“Did you ever think you'd get this close to the Pole?” he asked.

“How close are we?”

“Captain Bartlett's last reading placed us at eighty-seven degrees and twenty-four minutes north. That would mean we are just over one hundred and seventy miles from the Pole.”

“How many people 'ave ever been this far north?” I asked.

“How many people are in our party?”

“You mean …?”

He smiled. “This is it, this is the record. The farthest north ever reached. Of course, that record will only hold until we start moving again.We are as close to sitting on the top of the world as anyone has ever been.”

“How many days' travel to the Pole?”

“Captain Bartlett would be a better person to ask.

Much depends on the ice conditions, the weather, ridges, any open water we might encounter, and how they are planning to push at the end.”

“Push?”

“They'll lighten the load for the sprint to the Pole so they can run faster and harder … maybe seven days. The only question is, who will Commander Peary take with him?”

“Do you think he'll take you?”

George shook his head. “I wish I knew. I was pleased when he let me stay and sent back the other members of the expedition.”

Mr. Marvin, Mr. MacMillan, and Dr. Goodsell had joined us two days before with additional supplies. That was when the Commander had told them: they were leaving their supplies and heading back.They weren't coming any farther. Of course, I
wasn't there when he told them, but I had seen them just after.They were disappointed, but understood that it was the Commander's decision to make.When they left the next morning they wished us well.

“Has he said anything to you?” George asked. “Me? Why do you think he would 'ave told me?” I asked.

“You and the Commander are pretty close, especially since that time at the Big Lead. Did something happen back there?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to sound innocent. “We just sat around an' waited.” I didn't like lying to George, but I had kept my word. Nobody knew, and nobody was going to know. Not just about what we had talked about, but that the Commander had fallen through the ice.

“Who do you think he'll bring along?” I asked. “Matt, of course, Captain Bartlett to break trail,

and at least two of the Eskimos.”

“Not us?”

“I'd like to go. To come this far without finishing would be painful, but I have to be realistic and accept whatever he says. I think you and I are on borrowed time right now. It won't be long before he orders us to turn back, so enjoy it while you can.”

Enjoy it … what a strange way of putting it. Bone-chilling cold, fitful sleep, bad food, constant
danger of losing our lives, being pushed to the brink of physical exhaustion.
Enjoy
wasn't the right word, but I did know I was glad to be there and would be sad when I was told that my time was over, that I'd have to turn around. Then again … I couldn't help but wonder.

“The Captain's leaving again,” George said as he practically jumped to his feet.

Captain Bartlett, followed by Oatah and his team, was off. Their sledges were practically empty. Since they were breaking trail they had only the basics with them—markers to show us the way, picks and axes to cut through ridges, extra clothing in case they fell through a fresh lead, and rifles.

I knew that George was going to try to follow them immediately but that I didn't have to leave yet. I could rest, wait until the Commander signalled that it was time for us to go, but I wanted to be ready when that time came.

I put a hand against the sledge and pulled myself up. I walked along my team, pulling at the leads, checking to make sure the knots were all tight. Lightning was already up and tugging slightly at the lines. We watched as George and Seegloo and Ookeah started off, and I knew Lightning wanted to join them. All three had heavily loaded sledges and they would be moving more slowly than the Captain would be.That left the Commander, Matt, and me. In
some ways it didn't seem fair that we got to travel a path that was already broken, but that was deliberate. The final assault would be done in a terrible rush, with almost no sleep and hardly any time to eat, and the Commander and Matt had to be saved for that … But what about the Captain? Maybe somebody else should have been breaking trail to save
him
… but who else could do it? Then again, knowing the Captain the way I did, maybe he didn't need any rest.

I undid the top two clasps of my parka. The temperature certainly wasn't what anybody would have described as warm, but it was warmer than it had been.The sun was almost always up there in the sky. We had almost sixteen hours of direct sun and another two or three hours when it was still light enough to move. And, with all that light, we were travelling longer each day. I didn't know the distances exactly. Some days we went farther than others.That had little to do with the time and more to do with the conditions of the ice.

I still thought about the ice, but I wasn't worried about it any more. I hadn't worried much since we'd left the Big Lead. Funny, but falling through the ice hadn't been a worry to me since I
had
fallen through. It had been a bad experience, certainly one I didn't want to repeat, but I had done it and survived. And if it happened again I'd survive again. Now my main concern about open water and fresh
leads and pressure ridges was that they slowed us down. I knew we didn't have that much time left. The season was changing. We had only so long— that window, as Captain Bartlett called it—before the ocean ice would become so unstable that we couldn't travel on it safely. Hopefully that wouldn't happen before we reached the Pole. Hopefully it wouldn't happen before we finished reaching the Pole and were back on land.

WE WERE COMING UP
to the next camp. The sledges were lined up, the dogs pinned down to the ice, and two little igloos already constructed.The sun was just setting, so our timing was perfect.We glided into the camp. It would be good to stop, eat, rest, and get a few hours of sleep.

“Danny,” Commander Peary said. “Care for all of our dogs.”

“Yes, sir.”

Of course I'd do what I was ordered, but I wondered why. Usually Matt insisted on taking care of his dogs himself. I tended to the dogs but kept one eye on the Commander and Matt.They walked away from the igloos. They squatted down, their backs to the camp, and talked. I couldn't
know
what they were talking about, but I had an idea. Ever since my talk with George earlier in the day I'd thought about when they were going to make the decision to send
back the last party, to start the all-out final assault. I had been thinking that it might be now. If I was right, I'd know soon enough. They stood up and walked back toward the camp.

“The Commander wants to talk to everybody,” Matt said as he came over to me.

“What does he want to talk about?”

“You'll find out soon enough.”

“Should I finish with the dogs, first?” I asked. “Take a few minutes. The dogs always have to be cared for first.”

Matt walked away to speak to George and then George walked over to me.

“Well?” he asked. “Do you think this is the end for us?”

I nodded my head. “That's what I was thinking. I guess we'll find out as soon as I finish with the dogs.”

“And Captain Bartlett returns.”

“Returns? Where is he?”

“While we were building the igloos and setting up camp he kept moving north, marking the first few miles of the trail for tomorrow.”

I laughed. “I guess I shouldn't be surprised.” “Captain Bob is the most determined, dedicated man I have ever had the honour of knowing. I don't know where this expedition would have been if not for him. He has almost single-handedly marked and broken trail the entire time. He is one stubborn
Newfoundlander … or is that saying the same thing twice?”

I laughed. “My mother would'a said that it was.” “Now, let me help you with the dogs and we'll catch some grub before the Captain returns.”

WE STOOD IN A CIRCLE
with the Commander in the centre. He had been talking for almost five minutes but he hadn't actually said anything yet, and the longer he talked the more certain I was that I knew what he was eventually going to say.

“I want to say how proud I am of all of you. As we stand here, at almost the eighty-eighth degree of latitude, we are farther north than any man has ever reached.”

I thought that wasn't quite right. Captain Bartlett had been two miles farther north than any of the rest of us before he came back to camp.

“You need to remember this moment forever. Savour your accomplishment and remember that this would not be possible for any of us if not for all of us. We have been a team.”

He stopped talking. I guessed he really did want us to savour the moment. I looked beyond the circle, beyond the igloos and sledges and dogs pegged down to the ice. I looked north, trying to picture that spot, less than one hundred and forty miles north, that spot I would only ever see in my mind. I felt a terrible sense
of loss. To come this far was an incredible story of success.To come this far and have to leave was just as much a mark of failure.