A Mans Woman | Page 6

the greatest peril. The entire expedition, men and dogs together,
with their most important sledge, was adrift. But the oars and mast and
the pole of the tent were had from the whaleboat, and little by little they
ferried themselves across. The gap was bridged again and the dog-sleds
transferred.
But now occurred the first real disaster since the destruction of the ship.
Half-way across the crazy pontoon bridge of ice, the dogs, harnessed to
one of the small sleds, became suddenly terrified. Before any one could
interfere they had bolted from Muck Tu's control in a wild break for the
farther side of the ice. The sled was overturned; pell-mell the dogs
threw themselves into the water; the sled sank, the load-lashing parted,
and two medicine chests, the bag of sewing materials--of priceless
worth--a coil of wire ropes, and three hundred and fifty pounds of
pemmican were lost in the twinkling of an eye.
Without comment Bennett at once addressed himself to making the best
of the business. The dogs were hauled upon the ice; the few loads that
yet remained upon the sled were transferred to another; that sled was
abandoned, and once more the expedition began its never-ending battle
to the southward.
The lanes of open water, as foreshadowed by the water-blinks that
Ferriss had noted in the morning, were frequent; alternating steadily
with hummocks and pressure-ridges. But the perversity of the ice was

all but heart-breaking. At every hour the lanes opened and closed. At
one time in the afternoon they had arrived upon the edge of a lane wide
enough to justify them in taking to their boats. The sledges were
unloaded, and stowed upon the boats themselves, and oars and sails
made ready. Then as Bennett was about to launch the lane suddenly
closed up. What had been water became a level floe, and again the
process of unloading and reloading had to be undertaken.
That evening Big Joe and two other dogs, Gavriga and Patsy, were shot
because of their uselessness in the traces. Their bodies were cut up to
feed their mates.
"I can spare the dogs," wrote Bennett in his journal for that day--a
Sunday--"but McPherson, one of the best men of the command, gives
me some uneasiness. His frozen footnips have chafed sores in his ankle.
One of these has ulcerated, and the doctor tells me is in a serious
condition. His pain is so great that he can no longer haul with the others.
Shall relieve him from work during the morrow's march. Less than a
mile covered to-day. Meridian observation for latitude impossible on
account of fog. Divine services at 5:30 p.m."
A week passed, then another. There was no change, neither in the
character of the ice nor in the expedition's daily routine. Their toil was
incredible; at times an hour's unremitting struggle would gain but a few
yards. The dogs, instead of aiding them, were rapidly becoming mere
encumbrances. Four more had been killed, a fifth had been drowned,
and two, wandering from camp, had never returned. The second
dog-sled had been abandoned. The condition of McPherson's foot was
such that no work could be demanded from him. Hawes, the carpenter,
was down with fever and kept everybody awake all night by talking in
his sleep. Worse than all, however, Ferriss's right hand was again
frostbitten, and this time Dennison, the doctor, was obliged to amputate
it above the wrist.
"... But I am no whit disheartened," wrote Bennett. "Succeed I must and
shall."
A few days after the operation on Ferriss's hand Bennett decided it
would be advisable to allow the party a full twenty-four hours' rest. The
march of the day before had been harder than any they had yet
experienced, and, in addition to McPherson and the carpenter, the
doctor himself was upon the sick list.

In the evening Bennett and Ferriss took a long walk or rather climb
over the ice to the southwest, picking out a course for the next day's
march.
A great friendship, not to say affection, had sprung up between these
two men, a result of their long and close intimacy on board the Freja
and of the hardships and perils they had shared during the past few
weeks while leading the expedition in the retreat to the southward.
When they had decided upon the track of the morrow's advance they sat
down for a moment upon the crest of a hummock to breathe themselves,
their elbows on their knees, looking off to the south over the desolation
of broken ice.
With his one good hand Ferriss drew a pipe and a handful of tea leaves
wrapped in oiled paper from the breast of his deer-skin parkie.
"Do you mind filling this pipe for me, Ward?" he asked of Bennett.