The Pole (25 page)

I didn't know whether I was supposed to cheer or offer my congratulations or my apologies for robbing him—accidentally—of being the first. I just stood there in silence.

“The Pole at last! The prize of three centuries. My dream and goal for twenty-three years. Mine at last.
I am the first man to reach the Pole!
”

The first? I looked over at Matt. He was looking at the Commander.

“I cannot bring myself to realize it. It all seems so simple and commonplace, but it is mine! Matthew, bring me the marker!”

Matt went over to Commander Peary's sledge. He pulled the canvas back farther and brought out a flag attached to a metal pole. It was the Stars and Stripes—the flag of the United States of America.

Matt brought back the pole and a mallet. He held the pole up, then drove it into the ice. He hit it again and again until the pole was solidly in the ice. He
stepped back then and the wind caught the flag and it shot straight back to reveal the red, white, and blue. Commander Peary came to attention and saluted the flag.

“We will only be here for a short time, perhaps an hour, before we start back. In that time I will mark readings and record my thoughts and feelings in my journal. I suggest you all drink in the moment of our success. Without you, my triumph would not have been possible,” Commander Peary said.

He walked away from the flag all the way to his sledge. His walk was awkward but there was a pride in the straightness of his back. It was like all of the weariness had been washed away in those brief minutes. He sat down on the edge of the sledge and pulled out his journal and began to write.

I looked up at Matt. He was still standing beside the flag, staring at it. He looked over at me and smiled.

“We did it,” I said.

He nodded. “Yes, we did. Because of what we have done, Commander Peary has become the first man to reach the Pole.”

“But he wasn't,” I said. “
You
were, and I was second and then there was Oatah and Seegloo—”

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed.

I knew the Commander was far enough away that he couldn't have heard me, but still I lowered my voice. “He
wasn't
the first,” I repeated softly.

“He planned the expedition, secured the funds, was the Commander. The only reason we are here now is because of him.”

“Maybe the only reason he's here is 'cause of us, 'cause of you. Besides, no matter who did the plannin', four people arrived before him.”

Matt shook his head. “You're just a boy, and Oatah and Seegloo are Eskimos.”

“But
you
were the first man.”

“The first man was Peary. I'm just his servant, his Negro servant. I don't count.”

“Of course ya count and counted first and—” “Stop!” he said, softly but firmly, cutting off my sentence. “Let's not repeat that. Not now and not ever. No matter what you say, or what I know, I also know who will be credited in the history books. It won't be me or any of the Eskimos. It will be Commander Peary.Why do you think he didn't want Captain Bartlett along?” Matt asked.

“Because he wanted him to mark the trail back.” “Many could have marked that trail. The reason was that if Captain Bartlett had come along he could have laid claim to being the first man at the Pole. But you and I and the Eskimos can make no such claim.”

“But … but … that doesn't seem fair.”

“Life is not necessarily fair.”

Those were the same words used by Captain Bartlett.

“Do you think the history books will record my name instead of Commander Peary's?”

“Well … I don't know.”

“I do. Peary discovered the North Pole. He is the only man who has set foot here. We are merely his servants. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for our return.”

He walked away, leaving Oatah and Seegloo and me standing beside the flag.

“There is nothing here,” Oatah said, and Seegloo nodded in agreement.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Nothing here but ice. Why did we come here if there is nothing but ice?”

“I guess because nobody had ever done it before. To prove that we
could
do it.”

Oatah shook his head. “I don't understand. Why work so hard to get to no place nobody ever was or ever should be? No sense.”

Seegloo said something in Inuktitut and Oatah nodded his head enthusiastically in agreement.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“He said he expected more, something different.

Nothing different here. Nothing more. Just ice. It's time to go home.”

Oatah and Seegloo walked off, leaving me alone. I put one hand on the metal pole as the flag fluttered noisily in the stiff breeze.Around me in all directions
was south. And in all those directions there was nothing but ice and snow and cold.We were standing on the top of the world, a place no one had ever stood before. I took a deep breath and inhaled the cool, clean air that had never been inhaled by another human.

Peary was right. We
had
made history. And I knew that Matt was right, too.Those history books wouldn't mention his name or mine as being the first person. They would say “Commander Robert Peary, conqueror of the North Pole.” And somewhere in small print, if at all, there would be a note saying that he was accompanied by two Eskimos and his faithful Negro servant, Matthew, and a boy from the
Roosevelt
. Maybe it would mention my name, or maybe just say “a boy.”Then again, it really didn't matter what the history books said. I knew the truth, and so did Matt. It didn't matter what the books would say because I knew what they
should
say: “Matthew Hensen—hero, master sledge driver, friend to the Eskimos, man of honour and loyalty and integrity, and the first man to reach the North Pole.”

And I was second.

Author's Note

The writing of historical fiction is always a curious dance between those parts that are fiction and those that are history. Captain Robert Bartlett, Commander Robert Peary, and Matthew Hensen were all real men, and this novel is based on their attempt, under Peary's command, to reach the North Pole in 1909.

Despite the passing of close to one hundred years, controversy still remains. Did Robert Peary and his small, final assault party, including Matthew Hensen and three Inuit, reach the Pole? While there is a great deal of evidence that both supports and refutes this claim, I am certain of some things. These were incredibly brave men who possessed determination and endurance that was almost beyond human limits.

What also appears clear is that, since Matthew Hensen broke trail for Peary through the final marches to the Pole, he reached the Pole first. Hensen's place in history, as with the Inuit who also
accompanied Peary, was downgraded because they were not, in 1909, seen as being men fully because they were not white.

While all are heroes, and Peary was certainly the commander, mastermind, and driving force behind the expedition to the Pole, if they did in fact reach their goal, then I believe the honour of first man at 90 North belongs to Matthew Hensen.