30 THE NORTH POLE 



the decks at least were unusually free for an arctic 

 ship just starting northward — all but the quarter- 

 deck, which was piled high with bags of coal. 



Inside the cabins, however, all was litter and con- 

 fusion. My room was filled so full of things — instru- 

 ments, books, furniture, presents from friends, sup- 

 plies, et cetera — that there was no space for me. 

 Since my return some one has asked me if I played on 

 the pianola in my cabin that first day at sea. I did 

 not, for the excellent reason that I could not get near 

 it. The thrilling experiences of those first few hours 

 were mainly connected with excavating a space some 

 six feet long by two feet broad in the region of my 

 bunk,where I could lay myself down to sleep when the 

 time came. 



I have a special affection for my little cabin on 

 the Roosevelt. Its size and the comfort of the bath- 

 room adjoining were the only luxuries which I allowed 

 myself. The cabin is plain, of matched yellow pine, 

 painted white. Its conveniences are the evolution 

 of long experience in the arctic regions. It has a 

 wide built-in bunk, an ordinary writing desk, several 

 book units, a wicker chair, an office chair, and a chest 

 of drawers, these latter items of furniture being Mrs. 

 Peary's contributions to my comfort. Hanging over 

 the pianola was a photograph of Mr. Jesup, and on 

 the side wall was one of President Roosevelt, auto- 

 graphed. Then there were the flags, the silk one made 

 by Mrs. Peary, which I had carried for years, the 

 flag of my college fraternity, Delta Kappa Epsilon, 

 the flag of the Navy League, and the peace flag of 

 the Daughters of the American Revolution. There 



