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THE AMERICAN MUSEUM JOURNAL 



capped peaks — as plain as a thing could pos- 

 sibly be. I even asked one of the Eskimo 

 toward which point we should head. He 

 smiled and said that he thought it was " poo- 

 jok " (mist). Green declared that if he ever 

 saw land that was land! The only reason I 

 had for doubting its existence was its size. As 

 we proceeded, it gradually changed in appear- 

 ance and extent with the revolving of the sun, 

 and finally disappeared altogether. Standing 

 later on the heights of the cape where Peary 

 stood eight years before, we saw the same 

 thing, and had we not been out there we 

 could have taken our oath that it was land. 

 Our best judgment then, as now, is that this 

 is a mirage of the sea ice, due to layers of 

 air at unequal temperatures lifting the in- 

 equalities of the ice, causing the shadows and 

 the lighted spots to resemble land. At one 

 time this resemblance extended practicallj' 

 throughout the whole horizon, crossing Peary's 

 trail of 1908, and even joining the northern 

 shores of Grant Land. In other words, it 

 appeared where we know positively there is 

 no land. 



I believe for several reasons that there is 

 land farther to the west. We have removed 

 it at least two hundred miles. If Peary saw 

 it from Cape Thomas Hubbard then its sum- 

 mits rise to a height of 11,000 feet; to us, 

 one hundred and fifty-two miles off, those 

 same peaks would have risen in the sky to a 

 height of 9,000 feet — too big for us to miss 

 unless we were totally blind. 



We had many serious handicaps to over- 

 come — first, the crossing of Smith Sound. 

 Peary stated in an interview that we were 

 on the wrong side of the channel and were 

 facing unusual difficulties. I realized this 

 from the moment when our captain quit and 

 wanted to go home. There was nothing to do 

 but sit tight and wait for the sound to freeze 

 and then hustle, which we did, crossing in 

 December on the thin ice and putting in a 

 big cache at Cape Rutherford. In February 

 we crossed in six hours by following the edge 

 of open water, taking a chance but it had to 

 be done. Mumps, influenza and dysentery 

 played havoc with men and dogs on our first 

 start. No snow for snow houses compelled 

 the men to sleep on their sledges at fifty-five 

 degrees below zero for three nights which did 

 not help matters any. Two or three of 

 Peary's old veterans were doing too much 

 talking so I decided to fire them at once. 

 We returned to Etah where I at once re- 



organized, cutting down the party to seven 

 Eskimo only and three white men, having 

 each man drive his own sledge. The plans 

 now were carried out without a hitch. 

 Mene Wallace, the New York Eskimo, de- 

 cided that hard work did not agree with 

 him so he left us; this was quite agreeable 

 to me and others but when another young 

 fellow, fearing that Mene would steal his 

 wife, followed him I began to do some 

 thinking. However we got up over the 

 glacier with our heavy loads and then we 

 were all right. 



The last trip convinced me that we cannot 

 travel far on pemmican alone for the dogs. 

 It has too much salt in it, giving the dogs 

 diarrhoea and causing them to vomit a 

 yellow oil. They could not possibly pull a 

 standard load of five hundred pounds. Our 

 long marches in Eureka Sound were made 

 following a killing of twelve musk oxen; the 

 long marches on the polar sea were with 

 practically empty sledges and on two pounds 

 a day, which is a double ration. Had it not 

 been for caribou at Cape Thomas Hubbard I 

 doubt if we could have left the land. One dog 

 dropped the first day, two on the third, one 

 on the fifth and two on the return. Due to 

 my constant walking and running, mine kept 

 on their feet up to within a few miles from 

 home, when two staggered so that I cut them 

 loose letting them come in later. 



We covered about twelve hundred miles 

 in all in seventy-two days, leaving on March 

 11 and getting home on May 21, a few days 

 before the sound broke up. Since that time 

 we have been very busy killing walrus for 

 our dogs this winter and laying in meat and 

 eggs for ourselves. Within a few days 1 

 start on a thousand-mile trip to sledge the 

 mail out to civilization, going to Upernavik, 

 South Greenland. About March 1 we start 

 again for Ellesmere Land, on a long fifteen- 

 hundred-mile journey into a section of the 

 country where no man has been for fifty 

 years and a large part of which is unexplored 

 — south of Ellef and Amund Ringnes lands. 

 Shall be compelled to depend entirely upon 

 the country for our return as I want to come 

 back by way of Jones Sound. With such a 

 plan sledges will necessarily be very heavj- 

 at the start and will remain so for some time 

 as no caches can be made. As far as I know 

 this will be the longest straight-a-way trip 

 on record and must be made within ninety 

 days or we shall not get back in time to re- 



