Part 22 (1/2)

”_Noona-terronga, neuliarongita, ootah--peterongito_” (Land is gone; loved ones are lost; signs of life have vanished).

”_Tig-i-lay-waongacedla--nellu ikah-amisua_” (Return will I, the sky and weather I do not understand. It is very cold), said Ah-we-lah.

”_Attuda-emongwah-ka_” (A little farther come), I pleaded.

”_Attudu-mikisungwah_” (Only a little further).

”_Sukinut-nellu_” (The sun I do not understand), said E-tuk-i-shook.

This had been a daily complaint for some days--the approaching equality of the length of shadows for night and day puzzled them. The failing night dip of the sun left them without a guiding line to give direction.

They were lost in a landless, spiritless world, in which the sky, the weather, the sun and all was a mystery.

I knew my companions were brave. I was certain of their fidelity. Could their mental despair be alleviated, I felt convinced they could brace themselves for another effort. I spoke kindly to them; I told them what we had accomplished, that they were good and brave, that their parents and their sweethearts would be proud of them, and that as a matter of honor we must not now fail.

”_Tigishu-conitu_,” I said. (The Pole is near.)

”_Sinipa tedliman dossa-ooahtonie tomongma ah youngulok tigilay toy hoy._” (At the end of five sleeps it is finished, beyond all is well, we return thereafter quickly.)

”_Seko shudi iokpok. Sounah ha-ah!_” they replied. (On ice always is not good. The bones ache.)

Then I said, ”The ice is flat, the snow is good, the sky is clear, the Great Spirit is with us, the Pole is near!”

Ah-we-lah dully nodded his head. I noticed, however, he wiped his eyes.

”_Ka-bishuckto-emongwah_” (Come walk a little further), I went on.

”_Accou ooahtoni-ahningahna-matluk-tigilay-Inut-noona._” (Beyond to-morrow within two moons we return to Eskimo lands.)

”_K i s a h iglucto-tima-attahta-annona-neuliasing-wah_,” said Ah-we-lah. (At last, then it is to laugh! There we will meet father and mother and little wives!)

”_Ashuka-alningahna-matluk_,” I returned. (Yes, in two moons there will be water and meat and all in plenty.)

E-tuk-i-shook gazed at me intently. His eyes brightened.

As I spoke my own spirits rose to the final effort, my la.s.situde gave way to a new enthusiasm. I felt the fire kindling for many years aglow within me. The goal was near; there remained but one step to the apex of my ambition. I spoke hurriedly. The two sat up and listened. Slowly they became inspired with my intoxication. Never did I speak so vehemently.

E-tuk-i-shook gripped his whip. ”_Ka, aga_” (Come, go!) he said.

Ah-we-lah, determined but grim, braced his body and shouted to the dogs--”_Huk, Huk, Huk_,” and then to us he said, ”_Aga-Ka!_” (Go-come).

With snapping whip we were off for that last hundred miles.

The animals p.r.i.c.ked their ears, re-curled their tails, and pulled at the traces. Shouting to keep up the forced enthusiasm, we bounded forward on the last lap. A sort of wild gratification filled my heart. I knew that only mental enthusiasm would now prevent the defeat which might yet come from our own bodies refusing to go farther. Brain must now drive muscle.

Fortunately the sense of final victory imparted a supernormal mental stimulus.

Gray ice hummocks sped by us. My feet were so tired that I seemed to walk on air. My body was so light from weakness that I suppose I should hardly have been surprised had I floated upward from the ice in a gust of wind. I felt the blood moving in my veins and stinging like needles in my joints as one does when suffering with neurasthenia. I swung my axe. The whip of my companions cut the air. The dogs leaped over the ice, with crunching progress they pulled themselves over hummocks much as cats climb trees. Distance continued to fade behind us.

On April 14, my observations gave lat.i.tude, 88 21'; longitude, 95 52'. The wind came with a satanic cut from the west. There had been little drift. But with a feeling of chagrin I saw that the ice before us displayed signs of recent activity. It was more irregular, with open cracks here and there. These we had to avoid, but the sleds glided with less friction, and the weary dogs maintained a better speed.

With set teeth and newly sharpened resolutions, we continued mile after mile of that last one hundred. More dogs had gone into the stomachs of their hungry companions, but there still remained a sufficient pull of well-tried brute force for each sled. Although their noisy vigor had been gradually lost in the long drag, they still broke the frigid silence with an occasional outburst of howls. Any fresh enthusiasm from the drivers was quickly responded to by canine activity.

We were in good trim to cover distance economically. Our sledges were light, our bodies were thin. We had lost, since leaving winter camp, judging from appearances, from twenty-five to forty pounds each. All our muscles had shriveled. The dogs retained strength that was amazing.

Stripped for the last lap, one horizon after another was lifted.

=From original field papers.--Observations of April 14, 1908.= Long. 95-52. Bar. 29.90 Falling. Temp. -44. Clouds Cu. St. & Alt.