The Hartford republican. (Hartford, Ky.) 18??-1926, 1914-02-13
A RACE FOR FOOD
|! Was Slow and Painful and Over
Arctic Ice Fields.
PLIGHT OF TWO EXPLORERS.
Their Fight Against Death by Starvs-
ton and the Visions That Were Con-
jured Up by tho Torture OF the Mad
Genng Panos OF Hunger.

! IuTeo Up ny tno ortuTe OF the Mad
Senng Pangs Of Hunger.
| The terrible phantom that haunts
| every traveller In the desert is the pos
slbility that he will not find water.
The arctic explorer rarely suffers from
! thirst. but another danger. equally
terrible and menacing. is always on his
trail starvation
In Lost In the Arctic" Captain
! Einar Mikkeispn the explorer who.
/ after having been given up for dead
for over two years. was picked up in
| east Greenland by sailing vessel,
| gives graphic account of his race
against hunger. Their sledge dogs
dead. their outfits abandoned every
morsel of food long since devoured,
! the only hope of Mikkelsen and his
companion was to reach IL Eilometer
NaeSset. where. on the fall trip. they
had left few tins of food.
Every two hours we make q short
halt but the rest is spoiled by the
thought OF the uncomfortable quarter
of an hour that awaits us when we
start and try to get our stiffened mus
c!cs into working order again. Our
feet especially are very painful; the
ankles are swollen and horribly tender.
The pangs of hunger increase every
minute. For my own part. | can
think of nothing but food. At first my
thoughts dwell upon all sorts of dishes.
bat gradually they concentrate them
selves upon sandwiches-Danish sand
witches. In particular my fancy turns
upon the food that have seen given
away to beggars. and grow furious
at the thought of the contempt with
which these gentry often regard such
gifts.
"Gradually the thought takes posses
sion OF me that am walking In the
streets OF Copenhagen. eagerly on the
lookout for sandwiches. Suddenly
spy what I am seeking. little white
object lying to the right OF me. turn
to pick 1t up. but as stop my foot
strikes against a stone. The shock
brings me back TO stern reality.
take in my belt and stagger on again.
"lversen Is in no better case. ! notice
that he frequently stops and 'peers
through the fieldglass at something on
ahead: then he lets the glass fall again.
with II shake Of the head. Once or
twice I ask what he Is looking at. but
the answer Is always the same-he
thought he had discovered case OF
provisions. but It turned out to be a
rock
According to our reckoning. we
ought to reach II Kilometer Naesse,
BY about in the evening. We keep a
sharp lookout for the point and sight
something about 4 o'clock that looks
like II. Once more. however. We are
doomed to disappointment 1t is not
the point.
I'VE pass many old camping places. |
relics Of the Denmark expedition; but. |
although we search long and carefully
among the old tins for any remains of
food. we find nothing In the gather
Ing darkness every point We approach
seems to MS the one we seek. Encour
aged by the thought Of food. we re-
double our efforts. But when We get
close enough to see that 1t Is not the
point our pickering flame Of energy
dies down. and we stagger sullenly
along with bowed heads.
I'VE have no longer any idea of our
wherea bouts. and it Is indescribably
uncanny TO see time after time the
same headland with the two small hill
locks at its foot. the ghost Of II Kilo
meter Naesset. About 10 O'Clock. half
mad with hunger and exhaustion. we
give II up and, creeping as close TO-
gether ms possible. try to sleep. But
the pain In Iversen's leg is so great
that he cannot sleep. and he is half ont
of his mind He wakes me at mid
night and begs me to go on.
1T is bitterly cold. and the wind has
shifted so that 1t Is blowing In our
faces. Staggering unsteadily and feel
ing our way with our sticks, Off We go
into the darkness.
FINALLY, after another long march.
We sight point that resembles II
K:io:aeter Naesset. and this time II Is
no trick Of the Imagination. The race
is won. for at the point we find fuel
and tins Of soup and peas"