"OUR RUDDER'S GONE!" 95 



Rowe, the much-respected head of the Episcopal Church 

 in Alaska, was among those we met on board. "We'll 

 lend you anything we have, excepting what we need our- 

 selves," was Ballinger's reply to our request for tools, 

 and Larsson went below to see the machinist. The rest 

 of us were entertained pleasantly in the ward room. 



On the way back we suggested working two shifts of 

 men on the rudder, as our officers insisted on an eight- 

 hour day, and we offered to take the night shift. "If 

 you'll do that," Larsson answered, "we'll make twice 

 the time," and accordingly we were detailed to work 

 from supper until eleven o'clock each evening until the 

 job was done. Larsson had found a few drills, a little 

 tool steel and a few nuts on the "Bear," but nothing 

 else that was of any use to us. 



Other defections cropped out. Kusche talked of 

 staying at Nome until we returned from the Arctic. 

 Albrecht and Kleinschmidt had a quarrel. Jiromie quit 

 his job and went ashore. "Now you will have to work 

 twice as hard," said I to the Japanese cook. But he 

 grinned. "Cabin boy, no cabin boy — all same to me; 

 but only two meals a day," he answered. It began to 

 look indeed as if our expedition to the Arctic might be 

 broken up, even if we succeeded in repairing the rudder 

 in time to get there. 



There was nothing to do, however, but watch every 

 move in the game that threatened to defeat us, and block 

 it if possible, while putting om* efforts in whatever they 

 would count. We had apparently dissuaded Ed Born 

 from leaving, and to make this more certain Elting had 

 Ballinger's promise that we would not sanction it. We 

 hoped now to speed up the fitting of the new rudder if 

 we possibly could. 



