Trial By Ice Part 4

Four days pa.s.sed while the ship maneuvered for better shelter inside the bay. Each reanchoring brought the vessel closer to land. But the holding ground was poor. The rough gravel and shale proved not sticky enough for the anchor. Another gale and the anchor would drag.

However, within sixty yards of the sh.o.r.e, a large iceberg lay grounded in about thirteen fathoms of water. Rising roughly 60 feet above the waterline, the iceberg offered a shelter 450 feet long and 300 feet wide. Many times the weight of the Polaris, Polaris, it could provide the needed protection, especially against sea ice sweeping along the shallow curve of the harbor. In a land where ice is the predominant feature, a berg thus grounded appeared ideal as a mooring platform. Slipping inside the shadow of this frozen wharf, the ship dropped anchor. Here Buddington declared the ship would stay. Other storms would rock the ship until the men finally secured the vessel to the iceberg with ice anchors and screws driven into the ice and connected to hawsers and cables. it could provide the needed protection, especially against sea ice sweeping along the shallow curve of the harbor. In a land where ice is the predominant feature, a berg thus grounded appeared ideal as a mooring platform. Slipping inside the shadow of this frozen wharf, the ship dropped anchor. Here Buddington declared the ship would stay. Other storms would rock the ship until the men finally secured the vessel to the iceberg with ice anchors and screws driven into the ice and connected to hawsers and cables.

After the next Sunday services, Captain Hall named their new home Thank G.o.d Harbor and their frozen guardian Providence Berg. Besides sheltering the beleaguered ship, the iceberg proved providential in another way. During the terror of the storm, moving the emergency supplies had engaged all hands, and the firemen neglected their touchy machines. The small boilers nearly ran dry and hovered on the verge of exploding. Luckily the problem was noticed before another disaster occurred. The firemen hastily fed freshwater ice from their mooring into the tanks, thus cooling as well as replenishing the boilers.

Any thoughts of leaving their secure harbor vanished by September 11. Winter arrived. A cold snap descended upon the harbor. By morning ice inches thick encased the hull of the Polaris. Polaris. In the cold, metal turned into a common enemy that burned the unwary at the slightest touch like a hot poker, freezing the skin hard and producing blood-filled blisters when the frozen part thawed. In the cold, metal turned into a common enemy that burned the unwary at the slightest touch like a hot poker, freezing the skin hard and producing blood-filled blisters when the frozen part thawed.

As if the ship were entering a coc.o.o.n, her shape changed, and she began to merge into her surroundings. Canvas tenting housed the deck, blocking the wind that howled through the rigging with each new gale. Hans and Ebierbing showed the men how to cut blocks from the wind-packed snow to bank against the sides of the ship. Slowly, inexorably, the ship's dark wooden sides vanished behind the mounting blocks of snow. With a constant temperature of 32F, the snow offered excellent insulating properties against the cold.

Internally the Polaris Polaris contracted on itself like a cat curling up for warmth. The Inuit families moved below decks to warmer quarters, for their staterooms on the upper deck had little insulation. The location of the galley on the forward deck proved even more troublesome. William Jackson, the black cook, and John Herron, the steward, risked their lives daily to bring food aft to the dining salon. Chained along the narrow deck were sixty hungry sled dogs. These dogs were bred for their stamina and ability to pull a sled not for their manners. Anyone pa.s.sing close by with food risked loss of limb or worse. While the ship battled northward, the diminutive Herron beat his own treacherous course through snapping jaws and lunging brutes. Several times the animals robbed him of food and tore his clothing. contracted on itself like a cat curling up for warmth. The Inuit families moved below decks to warmer quarters, for their staterooms on the upper deck had little insulation. The location of the galley on the forward deck proved even more troublesome. William Jackson, the black cook, and John Herron, the steward, risked their lives daily to bring food aft to the dining salon. Chained along the narrow deck were sixty hungry sled dogs. These dogs were bred for their stamina and ability to pull a sled not for their manners. Anyone pa.s.sing close by with food risked loss of limb or worse. While the ship battled northward, the diminutive Herron beat his own treacherous course through snapping jaws and lunging brutes. Several times the animals robbed him of food and tore his clothing.

Once Polaris Polaris anch.o.r.ed for good, the dogs were brought ash.o.r.e. But another problem arose: the deepening cold. Jackson struggled hourly to keep the stoves going as the mercury dropped, and no amount of sprinting across the icy deck by Herron could keep the grub from growing cold before it reached the crew. anch.o.r.ed for good, the dogs were brought ash.o.r.e. But another problem arose: the deepening cold. Jackson struggled hourly to keep the stoves going as the mercury dropped, and no amount of sprinting across the icy deck by Herron could keep the grub from growing cold before it reached the crew.

To solve this problem, Captain Hall gave up his own stateroom. His generous move increased the size of the galley, moving it closer to the mess hall, and further aided the pa.s.sage of warm air into the crew's quarters. His action thrust him into the lion's den. He moved into a cramped cabin with Bryan, Meyer, Bessel, Schu-man, and the mess crew. Now Bessel and his Teutonic brethren surrounded the commander. Hall slept beside the three hostile Germans. Only the cook, William Jackson, and Herron, the steward,remained friendly besides young Bryan. Fresh from the seminary, the ship's chaplain and astronomer overflowed with Christian charity toward everyone and everything. Wandering about like Percival after the Holy Grail, the undiscriminating Bryan remained well liked by all factions. The galley crew, not being officers, largely kept out of sight.

While the men prepared the ship, an unnerving pattern recurred in the surrounding ice. Existing leads and open pools froze solidly enough to support men and loaded sleds during wintry snaps. Clear, cold nights, lit by sinuous northern lights and eye-burning stars, accompanied these drops in the thermometer. Then, with little warning, fierce gales and blinding snowstorms raked through the bay. The ice buckled and cracked as the underlying waves roiled their frozen covers. Treacherous creva.s.ses, fissures, and pressure ridges reappeared, while ma.s.sive blocks of ice broke and cascaded about like tumbling dominoes. More cold air followed, and blown snow soon concealed these openings. Then the ice would thicken once more to await the next storm.

As a consequence, the bay surrounding Providence Berg and the Polaris Polaris took on the characteristics of a lunatic's garden. Like everything in the North, Buddington's secure anchorage was proving dangerous in itself. took on the characteristics of a lunatic's garden. Like everything in the North, Buddington's secure anchorage was proving dangerous in itself.

Under Hall's direction supplies were moved ash.o.r.e, again as a precaution. A small, prefabricated shed manufactured in New York was dragged the three hundred yards over the dangerous ice onto land. Bolted together and anch.o.r.ed to the ground, the wooden hut became Emil Bessel's scientific observatory.

Extending back from the bay, a flat, windswept plain climbed gradually until it collided with mountains bordering the north, south, and east. Eroded by wind and water, the sides of these surrounding peaks were steep while the tops remained flattened. Deep ravines and fissures scarred the face of the slopes where melting runoff and glacial streams had cut into the rock. Water creeping into the cracks of dislodged boulders split these stones into flinty shards as the water froze and expanded. The debris from this incessant war between the earth and the elements littered the beach, carried there by wind, water, and gravity.

Powdery glacial flour, silt, pebbles, and coa.r.s.e shale filled the basin. Furrows cut by glacial streams raced from the headlands to the restless sea. Clumps of lichen and moss battled for every toehold with spidery roots of stunted willow. A tree in its own right in more hospitable climes, the willow here was reduced to twisted scrub. Minute blue and red flowers, killed by the first frost, littered the beach like fallen soldiers. On viewing this depressing sight, Herman Sieman wrote in his diary: "But, why should we fear the darkness around us, if light remains only in our hearts? Yes, my Lord, if I have only Thee, I do not care for heaven or earth."

The heaven and earth surrounding Sieman were hardly inviting. Unfortunately for him and all the others, the heaven and earth he viewed cared even less for them. All too soon they would demonstrate that fact.

The ice thickened and snow fell until only the windswept bluffs retained their dull gray color. Unleashed to do what they did best, Hans and Ebierbing and their dog teams spread out across the basin to hunt. Returning with a seal and four geese, the hunters demonstrated their skill and another fact about the Arctic: animals grow large where the climate is cold. Being bigger reduces their surface area in proportion to their volume, notably cutting their heat loss. One day the two Eskimo returned with an Arctic hare weighing eighty-one pounds.

Encouraged by the seeming ease with which the Natives moved about, Frederick Meyer decided to survey the mountains to the south. He enlisted the help of Mr. Bryan and Joseph Mauch. Captain Hall warned Meyer that the mountains were close to twenty miles away and not an easy trek. The experienced explorer knew that distances can be deceiving in the clear Arctic air. Meyer disregarded the warning. The hike would take only a few hours, he reasoned. The survey party set off at eight the next morning.

Nine hours later the party had only just reached the foothills. Exhausted, with night fast approaching, they turned back. Now they discovered what many a climber knows: going down a mountain is often harder than going up.

By the time they had descended to the inlet, a storm struck. The wind rose, howling through the darkness like a lost soul. Blowing snow blinded them, stinging their eyes until they watered constantly. Their lashes froze together, and white patches of frostbite speckled their cheeks. Ice covering the bay shifted and split with resounding cracks like rifle shots as swells and waves rolled into the harbor. Fissures opened and closed, and blowing snow disguised these dangers.

Struggling through snowdrifts and crawling over ice hummocks, the three men lost sight of the ship. Stumbling about in drunken arcs, they used the glowering mountains behind them for reference. Hour after hour they pressed desperately onward, but each time they turned back to gauge their progress, the dark mountains seemed just as close.

Exploiting every weakness, the Arctic had turned a simple excursion into a life-threatening rout. Like men before them, they had underestimated the power of the Arctic. Any such error exposes the maker to severe punishment.

Crossing the quivering ice, all three men fell into open cracks. Meyer was the first, sinking up to his knees before he pulled himself to safety. Next Bryan leaped across a creva.s.se only to break through where he landed. Mauch fell through twice.

The icy water that soaked them to the skin chilled the men to the bone and robbed their clothing of its vital insulating properties. They were already dehydrated from their efforts, and now their body temperatures began the deadly slide into hypothermia.

With each dropping degree in core temperature, the body fights desperately to keep the heart warm. Over eons the human organism has learned to make hard choices to survive. Without a beating heart, life ceases. What are a few fingers or toes compared to the pumping heart? Chill the heart below 90F and it fibrillates. Death quickly follows. So when faced with its temperature dropping, the body begins to circulate its warming blood in an ever-tightening circle close to the heart, shunting the warmth away from areas of lesser importance to survival and those sites most likely to lose that vital heat.

The skin, fingers, limbsall have their circulation drastically curtailed. The cerebral cortex, a comparatively new addition to the brain, is also on the hit list. That regionwhich is responsible for thought, judgment, and reason and separates man from animalranks below the brain stem, which processes vital functions. With hypothermia blood shunts away from the cortex, impairing clear thought.

Panic set in. Tantalizingly, the clouds of snow parted just enough to offer them a glimpse of their ship. Befuddled and robbed of clear thought, the men broke into a terrified run. Stumbling, falling, slipping, they stampeded toward the Polaris. Polaris.

The fortunate Meyer and Bryan wore Inuit mukluks, light and designed for the ice. Tough oogrik oogrik hide lined the soles of these boots. On some the natives sew a strip of sealskin along the bottom with the hairs facing backward. With each step the hairs grip the ice and resist sliding backward yet easily slip on the forward motionthe precursor of modern waxless cross-country skis. A skilled hunter can skim across the ice using his mukluks like skates. hide lined the soles of these boots. On some the natives sew a strip of sealskin along the bottom with the hairs facing backward. With each step the hairs grip the ice and resist sliding backward yet easily slip on the forward motionthe precursor of modern waxless cross-country skis. A skilled hunter can skim across the ice using his mukluks like skates.

Unfortunately the two men had neglected to tighten the drawstrings at the tops of their knee-high boots. When they fell through the ice, seawater rushed inside. Being waterproof works both ways. While the mukluks kept the water inside from freezing and prevented frostbite, the weight of several pounds of water sloshing around with each step added to the men's exhaustion.

Joseph Mauch wore heavy leather boots, which had become soaked through. Ice encrusted the tops and soles, adding pounds to the already c.u.mbersome boots and making the smooth leather bottoms slick as polished gla.s.s.

In the race to safety, Mauch fell farther and farther behind. The other two sped on without thought for their companion's safety. It was every man for himself. Soon Mauch vanished behind them.

Meyer and Bryan reached the Polaris Polaris at one-thirty in the morning. Layered in ice, the young theologian collapsed and was carried unconscious to his bunk. Heated water bottles and cloths were applied to his chest and under his arms while Hall paced about anxiously. at one-thirty in the morning. Layered in ice, the young theologian collapsed and was carried unconscious to his bunk. Heated water bottles and cloths were applied to his chest and under his arms while Hall paced about anxiously.

Modern methods of treating hypothermia use warmed intravenous fluids, heated gases from a respirator, and even warmed fluids via peritoneal dialysis. When the core temperature drops too low, external heat is essential to rewarm the body.

During the rewarming process, dangerous shifts of pota.s.sium out of the cells occur, which can lead to fatal cardiac arrhythmia.

One well-doc.u.mented case involved nearly a dozen Swedish seamen rescued from the North Sea. When brought on board, all the men were talking and able to walk without a.s.sistance. They were sent below to rest. The rescuers found every single man dead an hour later.

Hall and Dr. Bessel knew nothing of pota.s.sium shifts and resorted to the usual methods. The Inuit use body heat to warm a victim, stripping naked and climbing in bed with the patient. While highly effective, this method proved too shocking for the white man.

When the party returned without Mauch, Captain Hall immediately dispatched the Inuit men to find him. They returned dragging the half-dead Mauch. When they found him, he was staggering in circles, incoherent and severely hypothermic. An hour later and they would have found him dead.

Fortunately neither of the two men developed cardiac problems. Mauch recovered under a mountain of blankets, and Bryan eventually opened his eyes. Seeing Captain Hall, the young man stammered, "Captain, traveling in this country is very discouraging. ..."

After that, no party ventured far from the ship without Hans or Ebierbing as a guide.

Daylight shortened with each pa.s.sing day, and the mercury slid lower as the sun departed the region. Bessel's observatory nearly blew over until cables and beams braced it against the howling gusts of wind that would sweep down from the mountains or lash inland across the bay.

s.e.xtant readings placed the winter camp at 8138' N, roughly forty-seven miles south of their highest sailing. Though they were still higher than any white man had placed his foot, exploring the sh.o.r.eline revealed the presence of prior travelers. Circles of stones marked where Inuit hunters following the herds of musk oxen and reindeer had anch.o.r.ed their summer tents. Digging among the shale, the men discovered part of a broken sled, spear points carved from walrus teeth, and bone awls. Eagerly, Bessel added these to the expedition's collection. How Hall viewed this is uncertain. On all his past expeditions, he was the one who had collected artifacts. Being excluded from collecting probably strengthened his desire to press on to the Pole. While Bessel gathered artifacts, Hall renewed his zeal for geography and named the distant sh.o.r.es of Ellesmere Island Grinnell Land and Grant Land. The prominence marking the north tip of the bay became Cape Lupton to honor a man who had helped finance Hall's earlier expeditions.

No one gave a second thought to the fact that they were claiming and naming land where the indigenous people had traveled and lived for hundreds of years.

On the eighteenth of September, Bessel and Chester left for a weeklong hunt. Wisely, they took both Hans and Ebierbing along. Encountering a herd of musk oxen, Hans released several of his dogs. The animals attacked the musk oxen, and the valiant Arctic beasts instinctively formed a protective circle, heads outward with their young calves inside. Shooting a musk ox took little skill, although several lead bullets from the men's Sharps rifles were needed to bring down the unfortunate bull.

The party returned with three hundred pounds of fresh meat, a trophy head, and hide. While Hall had taken special pains to ensure that the expedition's tinned meat was the best available, Arctic explorers knew that only fresh meat protected against scurvy. In his living with the Inuit, Hall had adopted their custom of eating his meat raw. In fact, whenever he felt under the weather, a b.l.o.o.d.y slab of meat returned his vigor.

This addition to the crew's table provided welcome relief from the salted beef and tinned ham. Since fuel for cooking was precious, most of the meals consisted of warmed meat, bread, and soups removed from tinned cans and flavored with dried apples and other dried fruits. Box-size loaves of baked bread, stored in bags, alternated with tins of stone-hard, unleavened crackers called sailor's biscuit. On another voyage Tyson had sampled musk ox meat from the Labrador coast and found it "scarcely edible" because of the strong odor of musk. This young bull, however, tasted "very much like other beef."

The fresh meat, warm surroundings, and relative security fostered good feelings among the party. Buddington, freed of the constant fear of shipwreck, resorted to his old habits of devious raids on the pantry and closet drinking. The new observatory and the plethora of samples kept Dr. Bessel and Frederick Meyer busy collecting specimens and taking measurements. Hall and Tyson consulted over forays along the coast, while the Inuit hunted over the ice pack. Hunched patiently over the holes in the ice, which the seals used for breathing, the Inuit hunters returned almost daily with fresh meat, whereas the sailors, who chased after the animals in whaleboats, had no success at all.

During this period one of the standard methods of returning specimens to the museums for scientific study was to preserve the horns and hide and the skeleton. Salt or drying handled the hide, but removing flesh from the bony parts required great care. Scarab-type beetles proved helpful, but no such insects served aboard the Polaris. Polaris. Boiling might loosen the flesh but could easily dissolve the skull sutures and spoil the result. Boiling might loosen the flesh but could easily dissolve the skull sutures and spoil the result.

So an unlikely ally was put to good use in separating the uneaten parts of the trophy from its skeleton. The bay where Polaris Polaris lay at anchor teemed with hundreds of shrimp despite the frigid water. These voracious eaters would strip flesh from the bones of any animal lowered into the water. An appropriate hole in the ice already existed. Since the freezing of the bay, the crew maintained an opening in the ice as a source of water should the ship catch fire. Grateful for the free meal, the shrimp readily cleaned the bones not used in the cooking. On more than one occasion, Dr. Bessel would enlist these crustaceans in preparing musk ox skeletons for the collection. lay at anchor teemed with hundreds of shrimp despite the frigid water. These voracious eaters would strip flesh from the bones of any animal lowered into the water. An appropriate hole in the ice already existed. Since the freezing of the bay, the crew maintained an opening in the ice as a source of water should the ship catch fire. Grateful for the free meal, the shrimp readily cleaned the bones not used in the cooking. On more than one occasion, Dr. Bessel would enlist these crustaceans in preparing musk ox skeletons for the collection.

All in all, the newness of their situation, the awesome surroundings, the preparation for winter, and the gathering of scientific material kept everyone busy. With all hands far from idle, there was little work for the devil.

Captain Hall continued his daily religious services, with special attention to Sunday's observances. The earthy seamen used profanity like a second set of clothing, much to the distress of Herman Sie-man and Noah Hayes, and Captain Hall constantly urged them to improve their speech. But his efforts to keep them whole and fit generally pleased the men.

For weeks the sailors had grumbled over a common complaint: food. The preferential treatment given to the officers by the galley irked them. Jackson, the cook, knowing which side his bread was b.u.t.tered on, naturally spent more time and imagination preparing the meals for the aft mess, where the officers dined. Some of this is to be expected. Sailing vessels never were democracies.

However, as time pa.s.sed, the difference between what the men ate and what the officers ate grew more and more striking. In fact, Buddington abetted the inequity by encouraging Jackson in his lavish preparation of the officers' table. He may even have ordered him to do so.

Before the ship sailed from Washington, it was Buddington who had ordered the sailors to direct all questions concerning the mess to him and not to Captain Hall. So here was the perpetrator of the injustices acting as the magistrate; naturally nothing was resolved, and the problem grew. Captain Buddington never complained, but the men did. In desperation, they spoke to Hall.

When the men brought the inequity to his attention, Captain Hall acted promptly. The change had occurred without his knowledge, he a.s.sured them. It was contrary to his wishes, and he did not approve of it. Everyone would eat the same food, he vowed. They should all live together as brothers, and Jackson would prepare identical meals for forward and aft messes.

After his gratifying sermon to that effect one Sunday, the crew wrote a letter of appreciation to Captain Hall. Herman Sieman penned the note: The men forward desire publicly to tender their thanks to Capt. C. F. Hall for his late kindness, not, however, that we were suffering want, but for the fact that it manifests a disposition to treat [us] as reasonable men, possessing intelligence to appreciate respect and yield it only when merited; and he need never fear that it will be our greatest pleasure to so live that he can implicitly rely on our services in any duty or emergency.Deeply touched, Hall responded in kind: Sirs, The reception of your letter of thanks to me of this date I acknowledge with a heart that deeply feels and fully appreciates the kind feeling that has prompted you to this act. I need not a.s.sure you that your commander has, and ever will have, a lively interest in your welfare. You have left your homes, friends, and country; indeed you have bid a long farewell for a time to the whole civilized world, for the purpose of aiding me in discovering the mysterious, hidden parts of the earth. I therefore must and shall care for you as a prudent father cares for his faithful children.

Your commander, C. F. HALL, United States North Polar Expedition In winter quarters, Thank G.o.d Harbor Lat. 8138' N., long. 6144' W. Sept. 24, 1871 As is often the case, what went unstated revealed as much as what was written. Interestingly, Hall's letter dealt with the "men" and did not include the officers. Neither Captain Buddington nor Dr. Bessel considered himself among the "faithful children" to Hall's father figure.

DEATH.

Joseph Mauch, captain's clerk, came into the cabin in the morning and told us that there had been some poisoning around there.-HENRY HOBBY, TESTIMONY AT INQUEST The morning of September 27 the barometer plummeted, and one hour before noon a fearsome storm struck. Swirling walls of sleet and snow engulfed the Polaris Polaris and erased all view of land or sea. Wind jangled the rigging and tore at the canvas tenting. Attempts to clear the lines of ice failed, since the sleet cut the men's eyes so badly, they were forced to retreat below decks to safety. The gale lasted three days. During that time the surrounding ice broke and crowded the anch.o.r.ed vessel. While Providence Berg shielded the ship from direct a.s.sault as the ice rolled into the bay, nothing could protect the ship from the rolling blocks sweeping in from the sides. Once again the icy jaws clamped down on the vessel. and erased all view of land or sea. Wind jangled the rigging and tore at the canvas tenting. Attempts to clear the lines of ice failed, since the sleet cut the men's eyes so badly, they were forced to retreat below decks to safety. The gale lasted three days. During that time the surrounding ice broke and crowded the anch.o.r.ed vessel. While Providence Berg shielded the ship from direct a.s.sault as the ice rolled into the bay, nothing could protect the ship from the rolling blocks sweeping in from the sides. Once again the icy jaws clamped down on the vessel.

For three days the frightened men huddled below and listened to the slabs of ice crashing and grinding along the hull. Hourly, Schuman and Alvin Odell, the a.s.sistant engineer, scoured the bilge looking for leaks as the planking groaned and complained while tons of ice pressed upon all sides. The ice and snow banked against the sides for insulation vanished. What little the wind failed to wipe away fell into the frothing sea as cracks and fissures opened around the hull. Roiled by wind and waves, the Polaris Polaris rocked from side to side, lifting at times when bergs wedged under the stem and stern. rocked from side to side, lifting at times when bergs wedged under the stem and stern.

On Sunday, October 1, the maelstrom subsided as suddenly as it had arrived. A cobalt-blue sky, devoid of clouds and sharp as crystal, filled the heavens. Slanting rays from the low-hanging sun striped long purple and violet shadows across the blinding white landscape. For all the surrounding beauty, everyone aboard realized how dangerous this harbor could become and how precarious the safety of the Polaris Polaris was. was.

More provisions, including some precious coal, were moved ash.o.r.e. Several feet of drifted snow had buried those supplies previously placed on the beach. A day pa.s.sed while these were moved beneath the shadows of bluffs farther inland.

The fractured ice field re-formed, mending the cracks brought by the storm. Captain Hall's thoughts turned to probing along the coastline by land. On October 10 Hall led an exploratory party of two sleds, each pulled by a team of seven dogs. He and his faithful Ebierbing had one sled while Chester sat in the sled basket of the second, driven by Hans. Before he left, Hall took Tyson aside. He pointed to Captain Buddington, who wandered just beyond earshot, and whispered to Tyson, "I cannot trust that man. I want you to go with me, but I don't know how to leave him on the ship."

Tyson shrugged. "I would like to go," he admitted, biting back his desire. Inwardly he hoped his disappointment did not show. Duty came first, he realized. "But, of course, I'll remain and take care of the ship," he added.

Hall nodded. "I'd like to reach a higher lat.i.tude than Parry did before I come back from this trip," he said. He then explained to Tyson that this foray would seek out the best route for the main thrust in the spring. He hoped to find the land route that would be better than traveling over the ice floes and pressure ridges of the ever-changing straits.

Under diamond-bright stars the two teams raced off into the velvet night on a northeasterly track. Clouds rolled in later that night, and another snowstorm layered a foot of fresh snow over the sled tracks.

The next morning Hans Christian returned with his empty sled. He carried a note from Captain Hall. In his excitement the meticulous planner had forgotten several vital things. The party camped five miles from the ship, waiting for Hans to return with the items. The letter, addressed to Sidney Buddington, read like a shopping list: Sir, Just as soon as possible attend to the following, and send Hans back immediately: Feed up the dogs (14) on the seal-meat there, giving each 2 pounds.

In the mean time order the following articles to be in readiness: My bearskin mittens 3 or 4 pairs of seal skin mittens (Greenland make) 8 fathoms lance warp 20 fathoms white line for dog lines 1 pair seal skin pants, for myself 12 candles, for drying our clothing Chester's seal skin coat 1 candlestick, 1 three-cornered file, 4 onions 1 snowshoe 1 cup, holding just one gill 1 fireball and the cylinder in which it hangs Have the carpenter make, quick as possible, an oak whip handle, and send the material for 2 or 3 more.

A small box that will hold the 1 pound of coffee which I have A small additional quant.i.ty of sinew Try and raise, if possible, 2 pairs of seal skin boots that will answer for both Chester and myself Hall then ordered Bryan to calibrate his watch with the ship's chronometer and send it with Hans. He wrote more detailed instructions for Tookoolito to sew a bag for the timepiece, which Hans was to wear around his neck on the return trip.

As an afterthought, he wrote, "Tell Dr. Bessel to be very mindful that the chronometers are all wound up at just the appointed time every day."

Whether he meant to or not, Hall's letter surely rankled both Buddington and the good doctor. The long list of demandssome vital, others trivialmade the sailing master appear to be his servant. Who was Buddington to be packing C. F. Hall's things like a mother sending her boy to summer camp? The men must have muttered below decks. And what was Hall thinking while he sorted his own gear that he should forget so many things? In his efforts to micromanage everyone else's work, was he being overwhelmed? The sailors must have shaken their heads over a commander who would focus on the winding of a watch yet forget his essential mittens and pants.

Overlooking the forest for the trees, the saying goes. Hall's actions must have shaken those of the crew who supported him and strengthened the innuendos cast by Buddington that their commander was dangerously in over his head. The ice's incessant chewing on the ship's hull served as a constant reminder to all aboard that disaster hovered around the corner, waiting for just such an omission or a mistake to destroy them.

Distressingly the reminders to Buddington and Bessel reflect the siege mentality developing aboard the ship. Hall sensed sabotage of his efforts to press northward. Without the dogs and an accurate chronometer, he could not reach the North Pole. The letter's tone smacked of imperialism and treated Buddington like a dolt. Surely he would know enough to feed the dogs before sending them back. But the note also raised questions about Hall's own competence. All those odds and ends for him, yet nothing needed for Hans or Ebierbing. Apparently the Inuit knew how to pack their kits.

Far worse, that offhanded remark to Bessel stung the haughty Prussian. As with the instructions for Buddington, Hall's reminder to wind the chronometers a.s.sumed that the doctor would otherwise forget. For a man who had a string of degrees from Heidelberg, Stuttgart, and Jena and served as the head of the scientific corps, it was a deep insult.

Here was another example of Hall's attempting to micro-manage his expedition. Even before he left on this first overland trip, he presented Buddington with a long, detailed list of instructions on how to manage the ship in his absence. It ranged from instructing Buddington (the experienced sea captain) as to what to do in an emergency to how to feed the newborn litter of puppies with canned pemmican. Too much coal was being burned to heat the ship, he complained. Only enough to keep the temperature at 50F was to be used. All lights were to be out by nine p.m. except for a single candle forward for the night watch, and nothing was to be burned without the permission of Noah Hayes, who was to record every sc.r.a.p.

Tellingly he appointed William Morton as quartermaster and ordered that only Morton could open supplies. For a final slap in the face, he commanded Buddington to keep a journal of any and all violations of this fiat, as if Buddington would be stupid enough to report his own pilfering. Nothing survives of the response that Buddington or Bessel made to either of Hall's letters. No mention is found in any of the recovered journals or diaries. One can easily a.s.sume, however, that their bitterness toward Hall only increased.

The requested supplies raced back with Hans, and the men worked at banking more snow and ice against the sides of the ship. On October 17 the sun sank behind the mountains of Greenland, not to be seen again until February. From then on each shrinking hour of daylight would be marked only by the rosy glow that shimmered along the southern horizon. Blackness and gloom began to permeate everything, slowly sapping the expedition's strength.

Captain Hall's party mushed northward along the foot of the mountains until they struck a frozen river. Since the river drained northward, they traveled along its relatively smooth surface, following the twisting riverbed until it emptied into the head of a bay. There Hall read a special prayer written for the occasion by John Newman and named the bay after Newman. He must have reflected bitterly over the lines in Reverend Newman's prayer that said: "And here in this far-off northern clime Thou givest snow like wool and scattereth the h.o.a.rfrost like ashes. Who can stand before Thy cold?" For a cleric who had not sailed north of Disko, Newman's words proved remarkably accurate. Already the trip was bogging down. Although Hall had planned to travel a hundred miles, the sleds had made less than fifty.

Sledding over the frozen water, they reached the mouth in two days and turned north again. Scaling a mountain, Hall and Chester viewed the surrounding land. Below lay the ice-choked Robeson Channel. Across the straits Ellesmere Island ran north by west in a curving arc while the earth beneath their feet rounded to the east.

Hall correctly surmised he was standing on an island and looking at the northern ends of both Ellesmere Island and Greenland. Here was the end of land. Ahead lay the Lincoln Sea and the North Pole. No solid earth remained above water between the tips of these two islands and the top of the world.

Hall's viewpoint of the top of the world was dutifully named Cape Brevoort, after his generous benefactor J. Carson Brevoort of Brooklyn. Hall sat among the rocks on a windswept portion of the mountain to draft a dispatch to Secretary of the Navy Robeson.

Below him stretched a missed opportunity, one that might never come again. Sanguinely he wrote: On arriving here we found the mouth of Newman's Bay open water, having numerous seals in it, bobbing up their heads. This open water making close both to Sumner Headland and Cape Brevoort, and the ice of Robeson Strait on the move, thus debarring all possible chance of extending our journey on the ice up the strait.

The collusion between his troublesome Captain Buddington and the ever-shifting sea ice had cost him dearly. With his own eyes he watched the fading light fingering across the open water. The route farther north by sea still lay open! The route farther north by sea still lay open! Had Buddington the stomach, they could have laid to, set the ship in irons, or anch.o.r.ed while the storms pa.s.sed, then steamed on! At the very least they might have pushed their way into this fine bay to winter over. Deeper than Polaris Bay and guarded by the sheer headlands, Newman Bay offered far better shelter than the shallow scallop of Thank G.o.d Harbor. By whatever quirk of nature, Newman Bay remained open, even now, where thick ice gripped the Had Buddington the stomach, they could have laid to, set the ship in irons, or anch.o.r.ed while the storms pa.s.sed, then steamed on! At the very least they might have pushed their way into this fine bay to winter over. Deeper than Polaris Bay and guarded by the sheer headlands, Newman Bay offered far better shelter than the shallow scallop of Thank G.o.d Harbor. By whatever quirk of nature, Newman Bay remained open, even now, where thick ice gripped the Polaris Polaris fifty miles farther south. fifty miles farther south.

Most disheartening was the fact that the open water now blocked any farther progress by dogsled. From the speed of the icy cubes sweeping south in Robeson Channel, Hall realized that the current of more than two knots would keep the straits open for days to come. It would do no good to wait for ice to seal the sea. Weeks might pa.s.s before the ice grew thick enough for safe sledding.

He was blocked by land and by sea. Clouds the color of hammered pewter, reflecting the dark mood, closed in as the men descended. Like Moses, Hall had been to the mountain and had seen the promised land. Like Moses, he would never set foot on it.

Huddled inside an igloo hastily built by Hans and Ebierbing before the storm broke, Hall finished his dispatch. He neglected to mention two close calls that had nearly spelled disaster for the probing mission. One night in particular almost proved deadly as they sat inside a snow house. Expertly crafted by Ebierbing and Hans to retain the warmth of a single seal-oil lamp yet block the howling Arctic wind, the house matched the Inuit's usual specifications of being airtight. With everyone inside, the Natives dutifully sealed the door with a block shaped for that purpose. Tired, preoccupied, or perhaps careless, no one had bothered to cut a vent hole in the top.

While Hall calculated his dead reckoning and star sights, the kerosene lamp flickered and went out. a.s.suming it had run low on fuel, Hall continued by the light of the one candle while Chester and the Inuit dozed. Then the candle sputtered and died. Exasperated, Hall struck a match to relight the taper. Match after match extinguished as soon as it was struck. Puzzled by this, Hall suddenly became dizzy. The candle and lamp had consumed all the oxygen in the sealed igloo, he realized. They were out of air.

"Kick down the door!" he ordered Ebierbing, who was closest to the entrance. The Inuit obeyed, and fresh air rushed into the room to revive them. It had been a close thing. Had they been sleeping, they would have suffocated.

Danger and death lurked at each turn. Back at the ship, Chester picked up a pot of coffee boiling on the portable metal stove, called a conjurer because it resembled something a magician might use to brew a potion. Finding the pot handles too hot to hold, the first mate dropped the pot and splashed boiling coffee over his face. Blisters immediately formed. Luckily Chester's eyes were spared, and his burns responded to Cosmoline, the rust-inhibiting grease, wiped from the rifles and metal tools and applied to his burned skin.

If anyone on the trip needed a reminder of the harsh nature surrounding him, he had only to look about. Grim evidence abounded.

During the sled pa.s.sage one of the dogs had given birth to a full litter of pups. As the animals slept in harness, tied to the sled, the tracings kept the mother from moving her babies to safety. In the night the other dogs killed and ate all the puppies.

"Up to the time I and my party left the ship all have been well, and continue with high hopes of accomplishing our great mission," Hall wrote the next morning. In his heart he knew he could not account for the actions of Captain Buddington or Emil Bessel while he was absent from the ship.

Hall must have feared that Buddington would sail the ship south at the first opportunity. The skipper had wanted to winter over at Kane's winter camp, farther south. Perhaps the fact that Kane had survived the winter at that location provided Buddington with a.s.surances, whereas their advanced position did not. Bessel, however, appeared happy collecting and measuring where the ship now lay anch.o.r.ed. With his feet on land and overseeing the construction of his observatory, the Prussian scientist seemed fully occupied. But his apparent contentment worried Hall. The man detested him, he and Tyson realized all too well. Bessel hated taking orders from someone he rated far beneath him. Since the episode at Disko, Bessel looked as if he were biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Up to the time Hall had left, everything was fine. But what mischief awaited his return he could only guess.

Nothing of Hall's concerns survived, but George Tyson's diary and testimony as well as that of the men paint a picture of growing acrimony between the chief scientist, the skipper, and Captain Hall.

Trying to end on a positive note, Hall added: I have omitted to note that our sleeping-bags, our vestments, everything that we wear, are all saturated with the moisture, and frozen stiff. But these kinds of difficulties we do not mind much. So long as we can forward the service we are engaged in, so long will we laugh at such obstacles as these mentioned.

Reluctantly they turned back in the morning. Before departing the men sc.r.a.ped away the snow until they found enough rock to build a cairn of stones. Placing the dispatch inside a copper cylinder as prescribed by his orders, Hall sealed the opening and trudged away. His dispatch was written on a form instructing the finder in six different languages to forward the message to the secretary of the navy. Chester further marked the site with an empty two-pound meat tin and a condensed-milk can filled with sand. The rough draft of the letter Hall cached remained inside his portable writing desk and so survived for us to read. His scribbled notes tightly fill all four corners of the printed official paper.

The pack ice and icebergs jostling within Robeson Channel mocked any idea of crossing by sled. The rugged slate-gray mountains lining the tip of Greenland blocked farther travel overland. He would have to wait until spring, Hall realized. Already this short trek was proving more arduous than expected.

George Tyson dropped the snow block he held and looked up. The sled dogs tethered on the ice and near the observatory barked and strained against their leashes. Beside him Morton and Sieman continued their work of hauling the cut squares to bank against the sides of the ship. Whenever the weather permitted, insulating the Polaris Polaris continued. This was the fourth day, and the snow bank measured ten feet thick in parts. Still, much more needed to be done. continued. This was the fourth day, and the snow bank measured ten feet thick in parts. Still, much more needed to be done.

Tyson scanned the horizon. The thick twilight restricted his vision to a few hundred yards. Something had disturbed the animals. No musk ox would be foolish enough to blunder into camp. Polar bears were another matter. He squinted harder. The white bears blended so well with their surroundings as to be almost invisible. Only their black eyes and black nose stood out. But he saw nothing.

The dogs renewed their yelping. Now they all stood, howling and facing to the east. In the cold, dense air, sound carried for miles across the jumbled ice field. Faint barks returned from the base of the foothills. Tiny dark dots crested the rise of a snow ridge and sped toward the ship. Captain Hall and Chester had returned.