The Ely miner., 1929-11-22

L Il
two long marches would land
US ar the POle" Thus op-
timistically Captain Scott be-
gan the chronicle of that last fatal
journey which was to end some ten
weeks later when his fingers, already
stiffening in the grip of death. record
ed the final words Of as hopeless. SIS
splendid. as heroic a quest as the rec
,ords of the Anglo-Saxon breed can
show in any age. He goes on:
I'VE left our depot today with nine
days provisions, so that il ought
TO be certain thing now. and the only
appalling possibility the sight Of the
Norwegian flag forestalling ours Only
81 miles from the Pole. We ought 10
do il now"
But a grievous disillusionment await
ed the intrepid little band. There is
heartbreak in the next entry in the
leaders diary:
Tuesday. January l6. The worst
has happened. or nearly the worst. We
marched we'll n the morning and COW
cred seven and One-half miles. We
started off in high spirits in the after
noon. feeling that tomorrow would see
Us at our destination. About the sec
ond hour of the march. Bowers sharp
eyes detected what he thought was
cairn; he was uneasy about il. Half
an hour later he detected a back
speck ahead. Soon we knew that this
We marched on, found that it was a
black flag tied TO a sledge nearby
the remains of a camp; sledge tracks
and ski tracks going and coming and
the clear trace of dogs paws-many
dogs. This told US the whole ~-0ry.
The Norwegians have forestalled US
and are first at the Pole. Ii is ter
rible disappointment, and | am rery
sorry for my loyal compani )ns. To-
morrow we must march on TO the Pole
and then hasten home with all the
speed we can compass. All the day
dreams must go; it will be a weari-
some return"
Next night. still brooding over the
victory of his Norwegian rivals and
seemingly for the first time feeling
doubt regarding the outcome Of this
most desperate and forlOrp venture,
Scott concerned his daily entry with
this:
"GodI this is an awful place and
terrible enough for us 10 have lahored
TO II without reward Of priority. Well,
il is something TO have got here, and
the wind may be our friend tomorrow.
Now for the run home and
desperate struggle! l wonder if we
can do it,"
But they didn't turn back yet. They
must make sure that the other expedi-
ton really had beaten them. 1t had.
sure enough. On the eighteenth, rwo
miles from their latest camping place
and. as they reckoned it, about a mile
and a half from the Pole itself, they
Iabored across the white wastes TO Il
tent. finding here the na' les of the
Eve victorious NOrwegians, headed By
that great explorer, Amundsen. The
Englishmen raised their Union Jack
one minute bit of color in the midst
Of thousands Of square miles of BLACK
and white desOlation- At least. they
could celebrate the fact that they. too,
had reached the spot. The final para
graph of their leaders journal under
this date carried a note of bitter
pathos:
We'll, we have turned our backs
now on the goal Of our ambition and
must face our 500 miles of solid drag
ging-and good-by to most of the day
dreams"
The Beginning of the End.
Day after day they struggled on the
return march. And what setting for
such a retreat at an altitude of
nearly 10000 feet above sea level, with
a temperature averaging 20 degrees
below zero, poorly provisioued, down
cast over their failure TO win the race.
all the dash gone out of their souls
and 500 miles between them and COM
mon comfortsl But If they were
downcast. they were not complaining.
Their spirits were low but their resO-
luton was as steadfast as ii had been
when the prospect Of success danced
before their weather-beaten. frost
nipped faces.
Day by day tn trudged along over
glaciers, over hummocks of ice, acrUss
crevasses-tiny moving specks in the