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The South Pole, Volumes 1 and 2

R >> Roald Amundsen >> The South Pole, Volumes 1 and 2




So now spring had really arrived; we had only to cure the frost-bitten
heels and then away.



CHAPTER X

The Start for the Pole

At last we got away, on October 19. The weather for the past few
days had not been altogether reliable; now windy, now calm -- now
snowing, now clear: regular spring weather, in other words. That
day it continued unsettled; it was misty and thick in the morning,
and did not promise well for the day, but by 9.30 there was a light
breeze from the east, and at the same time it cleared.

There was no need for a prolonged inquiry into the sentiments of the
party. -- What do you think? Shall we start?" -- Yes, of course. Let's
be jogging on." There was only one opinion about it. Our coursers were
harnessed in a jiffy, and with a little nod -- as much as to say,
"See you to-morrow" -- we were off. I don't believe Lindström even
came out of doors to see us start. "Such an everyday affair: what's
the use of making a fuss about it?"

There were five of us -- Hanssen, Wisting, Hassel, Bjaaland, and
myself. We had four sledges, with thirteen dogs to each. At the start
our sledges were very light, as we were only taking supplies for the
trip to 80° S., where all our cases were waiting for us; we could
therefore sit on the sledges and flourish our whips with a jaunty
air. I sat astride on Wisting's sledge, and anyone who had seen us
would no doubt have thought a Polar journey looked very inviting.

Down on the sea-ice stood Prestrud with the cinematograph, turning
the crank as fast as he could go as we went past. When we came up
on to the Barrier on the other side, he was there again, turning
incessantly. The last thing I saw, as we went over the top of the
ridge and everything familiar disappeared, was a cinematograph; it was
coming inland at full speed. I had been engaged in looking out ahead,
and turned round suddenly to throw a last glance in the direction
of the spot that to us stood for all that was beautiful on earth,
when I caught sight of -- what do you think? A cinematograph. "He
can't be taking anything but air now, can he?" -- "Hardly that." The
cinematograph vanished below the horizon.

The going was excellent, but the atmosphere became thicker as we went
inland. For the first twelve miles from the edge of the Barrier I
had been sitting with Hassel, but, seeing that Wisting's dogs could
manage two on the sledge better than the others, I moved. Hanssen
drove first; he had to steer by compass alone, as the weather had
got thicker. After him came Bjaaland, then Hassel, and, finally,
Wisting and I. We had just gone up a little slope, when we saw that
it dropped rather steeply on the other side; the descent could not be
more than 20 yards long. I sat with my back to the dogs, looking aft,
and was enjoying the brisk drive. Then suddenly the surface by the
side of the sledge dropped perpendicularly, and showed a yawning black
abyss, large enough to have swallowed us all, and a little more. A few
inches more to one side, and we should have taken no part in the Polar
journey. We guessed from this broken surface that we had come too far
to the east, and altered our course more westerly. When we had reached
safer ground, I took the opportunity of putting on my ski and driving
so; in this way the weight was more distributed. Before very long it
cleared a little, and we saw one of our mark-flags straight ahead. We
went up to it; many memories clung to the spot -- cold and slaughter
of dogs. It was there we had killed the three puppies on the last trip.

We had then covered seventeen miles, and we camped, well pleased
with the first day of our long journey. My belief that, with all in
one tent, we should manage our camping and preparations much better
than before was fully justified. The tent went up as though it arose
out of the ground, and everything was done as though we had had long
practice. We found we had ample room in the tent, and our arrangements
worked splendidly the whole time. They were as follows: as soon as we
halted, all took a hand at the tent. The pegs in the valance of the
tent were driven in, and Wisting crept inside and planted the pole,
while the rest of us stretched the guy-ropes. When this was done,
I went in, and all the things that were to go inside were handed in
to me -- sleeping-bags, kit-bags, cookers, provisions. Everything
was put in its place, the Primus lighted, and the cooker filled with
snow. Meanwhile the others fed their dogs and let them loose. Instead
of the "guard," we shovelled loose snow round the tent; this proved to
be sufficient protection -- the dogs respected it. The bindings were
taken off all our ski, and either stowed with other loose articles
in a provision-case, or hung up together with the harness on the top
of the ski, which were lashed upright to the front of the sledge. The
tent proved excellent in every way; the dark colour subdued the light,
and made it agreeable.

Neptune, a fine dog, was let loose when we had come six miles over
the plain; he was so fat that he could not keep up. We felt certain
that he would follow us, but he did not appear. We then supposed
that he had turned back and made for the flesh-pots, but, strangely
enough, he did not do that either. He never arrived at the station;
it is quite a mystery what became of him. Rotta, another fine animal,
was also set free; she was not fit for the journey, and she afterwards
arrived at home. Ulrik began by having a ride on the sledge; he picked
up later. Björn went limping after the sledge. Peary was incapacitated;
he was let loose and followed for a time, but then disappeared. When
the eastern party afterwards visited the depot in 80° S., they found
him there in good condition. He was shy at first, but by degrees let
them come near him and put the harness on. He did very good service
after that. Uranus and Fuchs were out of condition. This was pretty bad
for the first day, but the others were all worth their weight in gold.

During the night it blew a gale from the east, but it moderated in the
morning, so that we got away at 10 a.m. The weather did not hold for
long; the wind came again with renewed force from the same quarter,
with thick driving snow. However, we went along well, and passed flag
after flag. After going nineteen and a quarter miles, we came to
a snow beacon that had been erected at the beginning of April, and
had stood for seven months; it was still quite good and solid. This
gave us a good deal to think about: so we could depend upon these
beacons; they would not fall down. From the experience thus gained,
we afterwards erected the whole of our extensive system of beacons on
the way south. The wind went to the south-east during the day; it blew,
but luckily it had stopped snowing. The temperature was -11.5° F.,
and bitter enough against the wind. When we stopped in the evening
and set our tent, we had just found our tracks from the last trip;
they were sharp and clear, though six weeks old. We were glad to find
them, as we had seen no flag for some time, and were beginning to
get near the ugly trap, forty-six and a half miles from the house,
that had been found on the last depot journey, so we had to be careful.

The next day, the 21st, brought very thick weather: a strong breeze
from the south-east, with thick driving snow. It would not have been
a day for crossing the trap if we had not found our old tracks. It
was true that we could not see them far, but we could still see the
direction they took. So as to be quite safe, I now set our course
north-east by east -- two points east was the original course. And
compared with our old tracks, this looked right, as the new course
was considerably more easterly than the direction of the tracks. One
last glance over the camping-ground to see whether anything was
forgotten, and then into the blizzard. It was really vile weather,
snowing from above and drifting from below, so that one was quite
blinded. We could not see far; very often we on the last sledge had
difficulty in seeing the first. Bjaaland was next in front of us. For
a long time we had been going markedly downhill, and this was not
in accordance with our reckoning; but in that weather one could not
make much of a reckoning. We had several times passed over crevasses,
but none of any size. Suddenly we saw Bjaaland's sledge sink over. He
jumped off and seized the trace. The sledge lay on its side for a few
seconds, then began to sink more and more, and finally disappeared
altogether. Bjaaland had got a good purchase in the snow, and the
dogs lay down and dug their claws in. The sledge sank more and more --
all this happened in a few moments.

"Now I can't hold it any longer." We -- Wisting and I -- had just come
up. He was holding on convulsively, and resisting with all his force,
but it was no use -- inch by inch the sledge sank deeper. The dogs,
too, seemed to understand the gravity of the situation; stretched out
in the snow, they dug their claws in, and resisted with all their
strength. But still, inch by inch, slowly and surely, it went down
into the abyss. Bjaaland was right enough when he said he couldn't
hold on any longer. A few seconds more, and his sledge and thirteen
dogs would never have seen the light of day again. Help came at the
last moment. Hanssen and Hassel, who were a little in advance when
it happened, had snatched an Alpine rope from a sledge and came to
his assistance. They made the rope fast to the trace, and two of
us -- Bjaaland and I -- were now able, by getting a good purchase,
to hold the sledge suspended. First the dogs were taken out; then
Hassel's sledge was drawn back and placed across the narrowest part
of the crevasse, where we could see that the edges were solid. Then
by our combined efforts the sledge, which was dangling far below, was
hoisted up as far as we could get it, and made fast to Hassel's sledge
by the dogs' traces. Now we could slack off and let go: one sledge hung
securely enough by the other. We could breathe a little more freely.

The next thing to be done was to get the sledge right, up, and before
we could manage that it had to be unloaded. A man would have to go
down on the rope, cast off the lashings of the cases, and attach them
again for drawing up. They all wanted this job, but Wisting had it;
he fastened the Alpine rope round his body and went down. Bjaaland
and I took up our former positions, and acted as anchors; meanwhile
Wisting reported what he saw down below. The case with the cooker was
hanging by its last thread; it was secured, and again saw the light
of day. Hassel and Hanssen attended to the hauling up of the cases,
as Wisting had them ready. These two fellows moved about on the brink
of the chasm with a coolness that I regarded at first with approving
eyes. I admire courage and contempt for danger. But the length to which
they carried it at last was too much of a good thing; they were simply
playing hide-and-seek with Fate. Wisting's information from below --
that the cornice they were standing on was only a few inches thick --
did not seem to have the slightest effect on them; on the contrary,
they seemed to stand all the more securely.

"We've been lucky," said Wisting; "this is the only place where the
crevasse is narrow enough to put a sledge across. If we had gone a
little more to the left" -- Hanssen looked eagerly in that direction
-- "none of us would have escaped. There is no surface there; only
a crust as thin as paper. It doesn't look very inviting down below,
either; immense spikes of ice sticking up everywhere, which would
spit you before you got very far down."

This description was not attractive; it was well we had found "such a
good place." Meanwhile Wisting had finished his work, and was hauled
up. When asked whether he was not glad to be on the surface again,
he answered with a smile that "it was nice and warm down there." We
then hauled the sledge up, and for the time being all was well. "But,"
said Hassel, "we must be careful going along here, because I was
just on the point of going in when Hanssen and I were bringing up the
sledge." He smiled as though at a happy memory. Hassel had seen that
it was best to be careful. There was no need to look for crevasses;
there was literally nothing else to be seen.

There could be no question of going farther into the trap, for we had
long ago come to the conclusion that, in spite of our precautions,
we had arrived at this ugly place. We should have to look about for
a place for the tent, but that was easier said than done. There was
no possibility of finding a place large enough for both the tent and
the guy-ropes; the tent was set up on a small, apparently solid spot,
and the guys stretched across crevasses in all directions. We were
beginning to be quite familiar with the place. That crevasse ran
there and there, and it had a side-fissure that went so and so --
just like schoolboys learning a lesson.

Meanwhile we had brought all our things as far as possible into a
place of safety; the dogs lay harnessed to reduce the risk of losing
them. Wisting was just going over to his sledge -- he had gone the
same way several times before -- when suddenly I saw nothing but his
head, shoulders and arms above the snow. He had fallen through, but
saved himself by stretching his arms out as he fell. The crevasse
was bottomless, like the rest. We went into the tent and cooked
lobscouse. Leaving the weather to take care of itself, we made
ourselves as comfortable as we could. It was then one o'clock in
the afternoon. The wind had fallen considerably since we came in,
and before we knew what was happening, it was perfectly calm. It
began to brighten a little about three, and we went out to look at it.

The weather was evidently improving, and on the northern horizon
there was a sign of blue sky. On the south it was thick. Far off,
in the densest part of the mist, we could vaguely see the outline of
a dome-like elevation, and Wisting and Hanssen went off to examine
it. The dome turned out to be one of the small haycock formations that
we had seen before in this district. They struck at it with their
poles, and just as they expected -- it was hollow, and revealed the
darkest abyss. Hanssen was positively chuckling with delight when he
told us about it; Hassel sent him an envious glance.

By 4 p.m. it cleared, and a small reconnoitring party, composed of
three, started to find a way out of this. I was one of the three,
so we had a long Alpine rope between us; I don't like tumbling in,
if I can avoid it by such simple means. We set out to the east -- the
direction that had brought us out of the same broken ground before --
and we had not gone more than a few paces when we were quite out of
it. It was now clear enough to look about us. Our tent stood at the
north-eastern corner of a tract that was full of hummocks; we could
decide beyond a doubt that this was the dreaded trap. We continued
a little way to the east until we saw our course clearly, and then
returned to camp. We did not waste much time in getting things ready
and leaving the place. It was a genuine relief to find ourselves
once more on good ground, and we resumed our journey southward at a
brisk pace.

That we were not quite out of the dangerous zone was shown by a number
of small hummocks to the south of us. They extended across our course
at right angles. We could also see from some long but narrow crevasses
we crossed that we must keep a good look-out. When we came into the
vicinity of the line of hummocks that lay in our course, we stopped
and discussed our prospects. "We shall save a lot of time by going
straight on through here instead of going round," said Hanssen. I had
to admit this; but, on the other hand, the risk was much greater. "Oh,
let's try it," he went on; "if we can't do it, we can't." I was
weak, and allowed myself to be persuaded, and away we went among the
haycocks. I could see how Hanssen was enjoying himself; this was
just what he wanted. We went faster and faster. Curiously enough,
we passed several of these formations without noticing anything,
and began to hope that we should get through. Then suddenly Hanssen's
three leading dogs disappeared, and the others stopped abruptly. He
got them hauled up without much trouble and came over. We others,
who were following, crossed without accident, but our further progress
seemed doubtful, for after a few more paces the same three dogs fell
in again. We were now in exactly the same kind of place as before;
crevasses ran in every direction, like a broken pane of glass. I
had had enough, and would take no more part in this death-ride. I
announced decisively that we must turn back, follow our tracks, and
go round it all. Hanssen looked quite disappointed. "Well," he said,
"but we shall be over it directly." "I dare say we shall," I replied;
"but we must go back first." This was evidently hard on him; there
was one formation in particular that attracted him, and he wanted
to try his strength with it. It was a pressure-mass that, as far
as appearance went, might just as well have been formed out in the
drift-ice. It looked as if it was formed of four huge lumps of ice
raised on end against each other. We knew what it contained without
examination -- a yawning chasm. Hanssen cast a last regretful glance
upon it, and then turned back.

We could now see all our surroundings clearly. This place lay, as
we had remarked before, in a hollow; we followed it round, and came
up the rise on the south without accident. Here we caught sight of
one of our flags; it stood to the east of us, and thus confirmed our
suspicion that we had been going too far to the west. We had one more
contact with the broken ground, having to cross some crevasses and
pass a big hole; but then it was done, and we could once more rejoice
in having solid ice beneath us. Hanssen, however, was not satisfied
till he had been to look into the hole. In the evening we reached
the two snow-huts we had built on the last trip, and we camped there,
twenty-six miles from the depot. The huts were drifted up with snow,
so we left them in peace, and as the weather was now so mild and fine,
we preferred the tent.

It had been an eventful day, and we had reason to be satisfied that
we had come off so easily. The going had been good, and it had all
gone like a game. When we started the next morning it was overcast
and thick, and before we had gone very far we were in the midst
of a south-wester, with snow so thick that we could hardly see ten
sledge-lengths ahead of us. We had intended to reach the depot that
day, but if this continued, it was more than doubtful whether we
should find it. Meanwhile we put on the pace. It was a long way on,
so there was no danger of driving past it. During this while it had
remained clear in the zenith, and we had been hoping that the wind and
snow would cease; but we had no such luck -- it increased rather than
dropped. Our best sledge-meter -- one we knew we could depend on --
was on Wisting's sledge; therefore he had to check the distance. At
1.30 p.m. he turned round to me, and pointed out that we had gone the
exact distance; I called out to Hanssen to use his eyes well. Then, at
that very moment, the depot showed up a few sledge-lengths to the left
of us, looking like a regular palace of snow in the thick air. This
was a good test both for the sledge-meter and the compass. We drove
up to it and halted. There were three important points to be picked
up on our way south, and one of them was found; we were all glad and
in good spirits.

The ninety-nine miles from Framheim to this point had been covered
in four marches, and we could now rest our dogs, and give them as
much seal's flesh as they were capable of eating. Thus far the trip
had been a good one for the animals; with one exception, they were
all in the best condition. This exception was Uranus. We had never
been able to get any fat on his bones; he remained thin and scraggy,
and awaited his death at the depot, a little later, in 82° S. If
Uranus was lanky to look at, the same could not be said of Jaala,
poor beast! In spite of her condition, she struggled to keep up;
she did her utmost, but unless her dimensions were reduced before we
left 82° S., she would have to accompany Uranus to another world.

The cases of provisions and outfit that we had left here on the last
trip were almost entirely snowed under, but it did not take long to
dig them out. The first thing to be done was to cut up the seals for
the dogs. These grand pieces of meat, with the blubber attached, did
not have to be thrown at the dogs; they just helped themselves as long
as there was any meat cut up, and when that was finished, they did
not hesitate to attack the "joint." It was a pleasure to see them,
as they lay all over the place, enjoying their food; it was all so
delightfully calm and peaceful, to begin with. They were all hungry,
and thought of nothing but satisfying their immediate cravings;
but when this was done there was an end of the truce. Although Hai
had only half finished his share, he must needs go up to Rap and
take away the piece he was eating. Of course, this could not happen
without a great row, which resulted in the appearance of Hanssen; then
Hai made himself scarce. He was a fine dog, but fearfully obstinate;
if he had once taken a thing into his head, it was not easy to make
him give it up. On one of our depot journeys it happened that I was
feeding Hanssen's dogs. Hai had made short work of his pemmican, and
looked round for more. Ah! there was Rap enjoying his -- that would
just do for him. In a flash Hai was upon him, forced him to give up
his dinner, and was about to convert it to his own use. Meanwhile I had
witnessed the whole scene, and before Hai knew anything about it, I was
upon him in turn. I hit him over the nose with the whip-handle, and
tried to take the pemmican from him, but it was not so easy. Neither
of us would give in, and soon we were both rolling over and over in
the snow struggling for the mastery. I came off victorious after a
pretty hot fight, and Rap got his dinner again. Any other dog would
have dropped it at once on being hit over the nose, but not Hai.

It was a treat to get into the tent; the day had been a bitter
one. During the night the wind went round to the north, and all the
snow that had been blown northward by the wind of the previous day
had nothing to do but to come back again; the road was free. And
it made the utmost use of its opportunity; nothing could be seen
for driving snow when we turned out next morning. We could only
stay where we were, and console ourselves with the thought that it
made no difference, as it had been decided that we were to remain
here two days. But staying in a tent all day is never very amusing,
especially when one is compelled to keep to one's sleeping-bag the
whole time. You soon get tired of talking, and you can't write all
day long, either. Eating is a good way of passing the time, if you
can afford it, and so is reading, if you have anything to read; but
as the menu is limited, and the library as a rule somewhat deficient
on a sledging trip, these two expedients fall to the ground. There
is, however, one form of entertainment that may be indulged in under
these circumstances without scruple, and that is a good nap. Happy
the man who can sleep the clock round on days like these; but that is
a gift that is not vouchsafed to all, and those who have it will not
own up to it. I have heard men snore till I was really afraid they
would choke, but as for acknowledging that they had been asleep --
never! Some of them even have the coolness to assert that they suffer
from sleeplessness, but it was not so bad as that with any of us.

In the course of the day the wind dropped, and we went out to do some
work. We transferred the old depot to the new one. We now had here
three complete sledge-loads, for which there would be little use,
and which, therefore, were left behind. The eastern party availed
themselves of part of these supplies on their journey, but not
much. This depot is a fairly large one, and might come in useful if
anyone should think of exploring the region from King Edward Land
southward. As things were, we had no need of it. At the same time the
sledges were packed, and when evening came everything was ready for our
departure. There had really been no hurry about this, as we were going
to stay here on the following day as well; but one soon learns in these
regions that it is best to take advantage of good weather when you
have it -- you never know how long it will last. There was, however,
nothing to be said about the day that followed; we could doze and doze
as much as we liked. The work went on regularly, nevertheless. The dogs
gnawed and gnawed, storing up strength with every hour that went by.

We will now take a trip out to our loaded sledges, and see what they
contain. Hanssen's stands first, bow to the south; behind it come
Wisting's, Bjaaland's and Hassel's. They all look pretty much alike,
and as regards provisions their loads are precisely similar.

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