FOUR YEARS IN THE 

 WHITE NORTH 



NORTHWARD HO! 



rilHE hot 2d of July, 1913, is one of the mile-stones 

 ^ which will always loom large in the perspective of 

 our past. We were standing on the line, faces toward 

 the north, awaiting the shot that should start us out 

 on two long years of Arctic work, two years of uncer- 

 tainty, of desired objects to be attained, of blasted hopes, 

 of adventure, of wonderful and strange sights, of extreme 

 happiness for some, of abject misery for others. 



Huddled, as if for protection, among the giant steel-gray 

 ships of our navy at the Brooklyn Navy-yard lay the 

 old Diana, of St. John's, Newfoundland. Her high bow, 

 her peculiar rig, her lines, her bridge, the crow's-nest 

 •\t the topmast-head, her greenheart sheathing, all told 

 of her battles in the far North and of her object here — 

 the transportation of the Crocker Land Expedition to 

 the head of Flagler Bay, Ellesmere Land, 660 miles 

 from the North Pole. 



With the thud of the last box on the deck, the splash 

 of ropes in the water, and the sound of the gong in the 



