The Pole (16 page)

I looked ahead and behind. Nothing. Nobody. I got down low and looked for sledge tracks to see if somebody had passed by.There was almost no snow, just hard, clean ice. If somebody had already gone by I wouldn't have been able to see any telling tracks. Maybe George, or even Mr. Marvin had already passed. Maybe only George. Maybe nobody. Maybe nobody had passed this way because this wasn't the right route.That sent a chill up my spine.

Everything Matt had told me to do, the compass readings, everything said I was right where I should be. And if I was wrong? Well, if I was wrong I would know soon enough. And I'd simply turn around, climb over the pressure ridges, and go back to where
I'd left the course.Then I could do one of two things: return to the race, or retrace my steps, looking for the markers, now red on my left and blue on my right, and go back to the camp. I'd be a quitter, somebody who wouldn't be going any farther, and certainly not to the Pole, but I'd be alive and safe.

Now that I had a plan I wouldn't have to think about it any more—I hoped.

The dogs had all dropped down to the ice again.This was as good a time as any to give them something more to eat. I untied the canvas and dipped into the food box. The dogs had all turned around and were watching me. I pulled out a piece of blubber and then a second and third. I tossed them to the closest three dogs and they snatched them up off the ice. There was some snarling from the next-closest dogs.

“Stop it!” I yelled. “You'll all get fed!”

I grabbed another seven pieces and held them in my arm. I walked up along the team, dropping a piece beside each dog.That would keep them satisfied for a while. My stomach growled and I realized that I'd now fed them twice but I hadn't had anything to eat myself. I walked back to the sledge and rolled the canvas farther back.There was another container that had some pemmican and jerky. The pemmican I'd save but the jerky could be eaten as I rode along. I was hungry, but more than I needed to satisfy my stomach I needed to answer my curiosity. Maybe curiosity
wasn't the right word. I needed to ease my fears. There was no way I could eat until I knew we were on course. I stuffed the jerky in my pocket.

As the dogs finished off their food, I secured the lines to the sledge. They'd just been looped over and tied lightly while I was in the ridges. Now I needed them to hold firm and tight. I walked forward, yanking on each harness as I passed, pulling the dogs to their feet. Lightning didn't need to be persuaded. He was already up, waiting, pulling slightly at the leads, wanting to get moving. I started to yell out the command—before I could even finish the words Lightning had begun to move. He wanted to get running again.

I stood in place and let the team start off. As the sledge passed by I jumped on and grabbed the reins. I kept pushing with one foot, riding with the other. It wouldn't be long before I either came up to a marker or needed to turn around if I didn't. Now the moon shone brightly to my right. It was still both my light and my guide. I scanned the distance looking for that marker. It could be a red on the right or a blue on the left. It didn't matter which, I just needed one marker, something to show me that I was on course. I jumped back onto the runners. I needed to stop running so I could focus all my attention on watching for the markers.

Despite my weight the sledge was moving at a good pace.The ice was flat and smooth and fast, but
it was more than that.The dogs seemed to be happy to be in harness and running. If we were on course we were making great time. If we were off course we were moving farther and farther away from safety. I had two choices. I could keep going, hoping for the best, or stop and go back, assuming the worst. But which to do? No, I had one other choice.

I pulled hard on the leads and yelled out the command for the dogs to stop. My third choice was to go no place. I had to get something to eat and drink, and the dogs needed to be watered as well. I'd wait right here. If I was on course, sooner or later somebody might simply pass by.

All of the dogs, with the exception of Lightning, had slumped down to the ice. I undid the ties holding down the canvas and pulled out the Primus stove. I was going to melt some snow for the dogs to drink. I was feeling pretty parched myself. And something to eat—something warm to eat—would warm my insides. I walked around the sledge to be on the side that was away from the wind coming off the open ice. Now that I wasn't moving I could feel the wind more. A rest would be good. Some food and water would be good. All I had to do was wait for somebody to catch me.

I STARTED
at the sound of the dogs getting to their feet. Something had disturbed them. I grabbed onto
the sledge and pulled myself up as well.What had they seen or heard or smelled? I looked back down the course. I couldn't see anything, but my vision was limited to maybe half a mile. Certainly not nearly as far as the dogs could see.And they could hear and smell a lot farther than that. Maybe somebody was coming.

Then again, maybe what had caught their attention wasn't coming from that direction. The wind was blowing in from off the open ice. And the ridges that ran along the other side were the perfect place to conceal a polar bear.

I reached down and grabbed the rifle that I had leaned against the side of the sledge. I had made sure to have it close at hand. Captain Bartlett had told me that the reason we had had so many polar bears come into camp was that they could pick up a scent from ten miles away. I'd been here, sitting on the ice, cooking food. If there was a polar bear anywhere around here it certainly would be coming in my direction by now. And if something was coming for me, it would be best for me to get moving again.

I leaned the rifle against the sledge again and took off my mitts. I had to tie down the load and get going. I still didn't know whether I should go forward or back but I wasn't going to sit here any longer.Then I heard something. It sounded like the distant sound of barking. I listened harder. Nothing. Maybe I was imagining it.

Lightning barked, and I was so startled I almost jumped into the air. The other dogs started yipping and barking. I tried to settle them down but they wouldn't listen. I grabbed hold of the rifle again. They had definitely sensed that something was near.

Then, down the path, I saw it—a team of dogs pulling a sledge! I felt an immense sense of relief. I felt like yelling, like laughing, like screaming, like crying. Instead I just stood there, frozen in place, watching it get bigger and bigger and closer and closer. My dogs were becoming more excited by the second and the other dogs seemed just as worked up.

I still couldn't tell who it was.Was it Mr. Marvin? Boy, would he be surprised when he saw me. Surprised and maybe angry that I'd taken a shortcut. I didn't care. He could yell at me all he wanted. It would just be good to not be alone, to know that I was in the right place, to know that I was safe.

The driver yelled for his team to slow down. Right then I recognized him. It was George! He brought the team to a stop right beside me.The dogs were all barking and yelping, calling out greetings to their friends.

“Danny,” he said as he got off his sledge. “I thought you were a mirage. How in God's good name did you get here?”

“I came through the pressure ridges,” I said, gesturing in that direction.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable, simply unbelievable.” He took off his mitt and offered me his hand. “I must congratulate you, sir, that was a most impressive piece of navigation and, perhaps more important, courage.”

I took his hand. I wanted to just let the compliment stand, but not telling him felt like a lie.

“I had some help,” I said. “Matt told me there was a spot where I could go off course and gain ground.”

“Perhaps he told you, but you had the strength and vision to follow that course of action.” He paused. “I must admit that I am grateful to see you.”

“You are?”

“I wouldn't want you to tell anybody—especially not the Commander—but I was feeling somewhat uneasy being out here by myself. It will be good to have company for the rest of the race.”

“But … but I don't think I can keep up your pace.”

“Perhaps I can slow my pace slightly. I think I'd prefer the company to the victory, or at least the sole victory. I am more than prepared to share it with you,” he said. “Unless, of course, you think you can beat me to the finish line.”

“No! I'd like to come along with you!”

“Good.Then let's start moving.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

FEBRUARY 1, 1909

I HURRIED
to pull on my mukluks, trying to walk before they were fully on and almost tripping over my own feet in the process. The Captain and Commander walked out the door and it closed behind them. I had to hurry. I pulled down my hood and reached into my pockets. My mittens weren't there. I turned back around.They were on my bunk. I wanted to just leave them there, go outside without them, but I knew the Captain would yell at me if I did. Maybe it was February 15, and practically mild compared to what the temperature had been, but it was still way below freezing and exposed skin would get frostbitten pretty fast. I ran back and got the mitts and pulled them on.

By the time I got outside they were fifty yards away, walking toward the coast. I rushed after them. They'd told me they wanted to talk to me but they
hadn't told me what they wanted to talk about. I was nervous. No, I was scared. What would they say? What had I done wrong? I had tried my best to do everything that was asked of me and—no sense in getting my guts in a knot until I knew.

I caught up and fell in right behind them. We walked in silence.Where were we going? They finally stopped on a little rise that overlooked everything. It was probably the best view for miles in any direction. Back the way we'd come was the camp. It looked so small—just a couple of dark shapes against a mass of white. There was a series of small plumes of smoke rising out of the chimneys of the building. It rose into the air and then disappeared into the gloom. To the right, over seventy miles away, safely at anchor was the
Roosevelt
. I couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like if I'd simply stayed with the ship. It certainly would have been safer, warmer, and a whole lot easier.

The two men stood, silently, looking north. I thought that they were looking toward that spot, hundreds of miles north, the Pole. I knew that Commander Peary had thought about it, dreamed about it, for so long that he
could
see it, at least in his mind.

“There it is,” Captain Bartlett said.

For a split second I thought he meant the Pole. Then I saw what he was really looking at. A bright,
fiery ball—the sun—was just pushing up over the horizon. The sun still hadn't risen, but we'd all noticed that it was getting brighter with each passing day. Of course, more light meant more work for those of us who were preparing, getting things ready to go.

We watched in silence as the sun continued to rise. I was amazed at how bright it was. I had to look slightly away.The entire scene became light and the sun glistened and sparkled against the snow. It was as beautiful as it was brilliant. I brought my hand up to shield my eyes. The sun was still only half up, a semicircle above the horizon. I couldn't even imagine how much brighter it was going to be when it was fully exposed. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen in my life. I could feel its warmth against my face. It felt so good, so welcoming, so hopeful.

And then, as quickly as it had risen, it began to set. I felt as if my heart were sinking along with it. With amazing speed it sank back into the horizon. It was as if the ice and snow were devouring it, eating the warmth.There was a mist in the distance, and I had the wildest thought that it had been caused by the snow and ice being melted when the fire of the sun was extinguished as it set. I guess I'd been listening to too many Eskimo fables. A few rays, a fainter light still remained, but the sun itself
was gone. I had the urge to yell out at it, or run along the shore and try to catch it, but I just stood there and watched.

“Well, boy,” Captain Bartlett said.

“It was beautiful,” I said. “I could feel the warmth.”

“It warmed my heart and my soul.”

“Do you know what the return of the sun means?”

Commander Peary asked.

“Yes, sir, that you'll be leaving soon to reach the Pole.”

He chuckled softly. “I like the way you said that, son, to
reach
the Pole. Not to
try
to reach the Pole. So you think I can do it?”

“I don't think, sir, I
know
.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder. “That's what I like to hear. Believing you can accomplish something is more than half the battle won. By the end of the month that five minutes that the sun rose above the horizon will become close to ten hours. Add in the time when it is light before the sun rises and after it sets there will be almost eleven hours of light. Enough to start toward the Pole. Do you know why we brought you out here?” Commander Peary asked.

“No, sir.” I was feeling anxious again.

“On February the twenty-eighth, if the weather is favourable, Captain Bartlett will be leading the first party out onto the ice,” Commander Peary said.

I looked over at the Captain. He had a smile that was visible through his whiskers. He looked happy at the thought.

“Others will follow, moving supplies and building shelters along the trail that Captain Bartlett will be forging. Have you given any thought to who those others might be?” he asked.

“There'll be the Eskimos. And Matthew, of course,” I said.

“He will be at my side,” Commander Peary said. “Who else?”

“And Mr. Marvin, and Dr. Goodsell, and Mr. MacMillan, and, of course, George.”

“George has certainly shown his worth on the ice and with a team … as have you.You ran an outstanding race.”