Part 9

"November 12, 1912, latitude 79° 50' S. This cross and cairn are erected over the bodies of Captain Scott, C.V.O., R.N.; Doctor E. A. Wilson, M.B., B.C. (Cantab.); and Lieutenant H. R. Bowers, Royal Indian Marine. A slight token to perpetuate their successful and gallant attempt to reach the Pole. This they did on January 17, 1912, after the Norwegian expedition had already done so. Inclement weather, with lack of fuel, was the cause of their death. Also to commemorate their two gallant comrades, Captain L. E. G. Oates, of the Inniskilling Dragoons, who walked to his death in a blizzard to save his comrades, about 18 miles south of this position; also of Seaman Edgar Evans, who died at the foot of the Beardmore Glacier.

"The Lord gave and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord."

VI

MOUNT McKINLEY

MOUNT McKINLEY

(_Map_, p. 184.)

The ascent of Ruwenzori unriddled the mystery of equatorial snows. There now remained the question of great peaks in the extreme North, where the mountaineering problems must obviously be very different from those found at a similar altitude in the temperate zones. Something had been done to solve the problem by the ascent of Mount St. Elias, in Alaska, on July 31, 1897. But Mount St. Elias was only just over 18,000 feet, and it was peculiarly accessible, for it lies close to the coast, on the borders of British and American territory. The eyes of explorers began to turn towards Mount McKinley, the highest peak in North America, which reached a height of 20,300 feet. Its latitude was 63° N., and so within 250 miles of the Arctic Circle. The nearest salt water, Cook Inlet, was 140 miles from the southern face as the crow flies. It was therefore almost unreachable, lying as it did in the midst of an unexplored wilderness and surrounded by a mighty glacier system.

On the south these glaciers were drained by the Susitna River, with its tributaries the Yentna and the Chulitna, and on its northern face by the affluents of the Yukon. If the traveller attempted to reach it in summer he might find a difficult waterway up to the beginning of the glaciers, but then he had thirty miles of ice to cross before he reached the base, and over these he must transport everything on his back. In winter the journey might be made by dogs, but winter in those latitudes was scarcely the time to travel. Moreover, Mount McKinley, unlike the other great peaks in the world, rose from a low elevation. In the case of the South American and Himalayan peaks climbing does not begin until an altitude of at least 10,000 feet has been reached, and their line of perpetual snow is very high. It is possible, for example, to cover the 22,860 feet of Aconcagua without ever touching snow. But in Mount McKinley the snow-line was not much more than 2,500 feet, and there was something like 15,000 feet of climbing. Again, its position so far north did not permit the snows to melt properly in the summer, or to grow hard and pack. Its snowfall was so great that the snow never got into the condition which eases the path of the mountaineer. Finally--and this applied especially to a winter journey--it was situated in a land of desperate storms. The severest weather conditions ever recorded by the American Meteorological Bureau occurred at Mount Washington, which is only 6,000 feet above the sea, where the temperature was 40 degrees below zero and the wind 180 miles an hour. What might the climber expect 20,000 feet up in the sky, with nothing between him and the North Pole?

The attempt on Mount McKinley, therefore, was not a thing to be lightly undertaken. It meant a journey to the remote Alaskan coast, and then some 200 miles through difficult and little known country before even the base was reached. What the climbing would be like no one could tell. The obvious route, as the map will show, was the Susitna River, by which, indeed, its first explorer, a young Princeton graduate called Dickey, had approached it in 1896. It was he who christened it Mount McKinley. He fell into an argument with another prospector who was a rabid champion of free silver, and after many weary days' dispute retaliated by naming the mountain after the champion of the gold standard. In 1903 an expedition, led by the too famous Dr. Cook, reached the base from the north, but failed to do any climbing. Then, in 1906, began the explorations of Professor Parker and Mr. Belmore Browne, who were destined six years later to be the conquerors of the peak.

I

The 1906 expedition may be roughly sketched, for, though it was a failure, it at least taught its leaders what routes were not possible. They started with pack-horses and a motor-boat, with the intention of trying the north-western face. They ascended the Yentna River, which enters the Susitna from the west, but found it impossible to cross the southern flanks of the Alaskan range. They then turned up the south side of the range, and reached the glacier out of which the Tokositna River flows. By this time their transport was in a precarious condition, and their horses could go no farther. They were within view of Mount McKinley, and saw not only the impossibility of the southern face, but the extraordinary difficulties of approaching even its base from that direction. They accordingly returned to the coast, where Dr. Cook left them, announcing that he intended to make one final desperate attempt on the mountain.

Presently Professor Parker and Mr. Belmore Browne heard, to their surprise, the rumour that Dr. Cook had succeeded. Knowing that the feat was impossible in so short a time, they disbelieved the tale, and stated their views publicly in New York. Then appeared Dr. Cook's notorious book; but before it was published he had departed for the Arctic regions. Geographical circles in America were torn with the controversy. A committee of the Explorers' Club investigated the question, but Dr. Cook refused to give evidence. Professor Parker and Mr. Belmore Browne were meantime busy with their own plans for another attempt.

The 1910 expedition was again directed to the southern face. Their reasons were that for most of the journey to that face a water route was possible, and that if they failed there they believed they would be able to go on to the southern North-East ridge, which, from what they had heard and seen, they believed to be the most promising avenue of attack. They also wished to duplicate the photographs which Dr. Cook had published, and so prove or disprove his bona fides. Also, the northern side of the great mountain had been already fairly well mapped, but nothing had been done on the south side.

The notion of a pack train was discarded, and all their energies were directed towards designing the right kind of boat in which to ascend the Susitna and its tributary the Chulitna till they reached the glaciers. The party consisted of eight, including a young man from Seattle, Mr. Merl La Voy, who was exceptionally fitted by Providence for the work of a pioneer. The present writer had many dealings with Mr. La Voy during the Great War, and can confidently say that he never met any one more intrepid, audacious, and resourceful.

It was a summer-time expedition, and the party left Susitna station on the 26th May. The ascent of the two rivers was difficult and exciting enough, but they reached without misadventure the foot of the Tokositna tributary, where they established their base camp. This camp was thirty-seven and a half miles from Mount McKinley, and a few miles away was the terminal moraine of a great glacier, which they hoped would give them a roadway to the mountain. Up that glacier they would have to carry all their belongings on their backs. In Mr. Belmore Browne's narrative there is an interesting passage describing the process by which men are hardened to wilderness work.

"The day's work consisted in travelling through brush, soft sand, swamps, and glacier streams for about ten hours. With the exception of one or two men, who put a biscuit in their pockets, we took no food with us. The day's work was in no way difficult, for we carried (during the preliminary reconnaissance) no loads; our condition from the _civilized standpoint_ was splendid; we were well-fed, sun-browned, and fairly hard--and yet we all came into camp _thoroughly tired out_. Two months after our adventures on Mount McKinley's ice flanks we came down through the same stretch of country. The snow, however, had melted, leaving dense thickets through which we had to chop our way; mosquitoes hung in clouds, and four of us ... were carrying packs running from 95 to 120 lbs. From the civilized standpoint _we were not well-fed_ and we did not look well--our eyes and cheeks were sunken and our bodies were worn down to bone and sinew; and yet we came into camp as fresh and happy as children, and after a bite to eat and a smoke we could have gone on cheerfully."

It was no light task carrying an outfit of 1,200 lbs. over the thirty-seven and a half miles of glacier, a distance which by the actual route used was much farther. Most of the weight was in pemmican and alcohol for the stoves. The pemmican consisted of pulverized raw meat, mixed with sugar, raisins, currants, and tallow. Their principal drink was tea. On 11th June they had their last wood fire, and after that there was only the stove. The days were spent in sheer hard navvy labour, trudging along on snow-shoes under heavy packs, and trotting back for others. They had various misadventures. Frequent blizzards of wind and snow compelled them to shut up their tent fast at night, with the result that on one occasion they were nearly asphyxiated.

On 27th June they reached the head of the main glacier, beyond which, through a narrow gorge, a secondary glacier descended from the mountains, Another glacier came down on their right, and here they achieved an interesting piece of detective work. At the top of it they saw some peaks which recalled an illustration in Dr. Cook's book. The illustration purported to be the summit of Mount McKinley, and showed on the left a rock shoulder which Dr. Cook described as a cliff of 8,000 feet. It was really a faked picture of the small peaks at the head of this glacier, miles and miles from the main mountain, and the cliff of 8,000 feet turned out only to rise 300 feet above the floor, and to be only 5,300 feet above sea-level. One legend at any rate had been dispelled for ever.

Now began the patient relaying of provisions up the great gorge. It was desperately hard manual labour, their faces were burnt black by the glare of the sun, and every now and then there would be a slip into a crevasse, which only the highest good fortune saved from being a tragedy. After thirty-six days of hard travelling, they were at last within two miles of the base of the southern cliffs of Mount McKinley. They found themselves in a great ice basin, hemmed in by colossal precipices down which avalanches thundered. Before them rose the mountain, 15,000 feet of rock and ice. Their glasses showed them that the South-West ridge became utterly unclimbable after an altitude of about 15,000 feet. The southern North-East ridge looked more promising, and to this they turned their attention. In that Northern summer there was no dark. "The advance and retreat of the night shadows went on with scarcely a pause, and sometimes we would be uncertain whether the Alpine glow on the big mountain's icy crest was the light of the rising or the setting sun." They had now a short spell of rest from their toil; and as the mind of man on such occasions turns to food, they invented out of their scanty larder a new pudding. Here is the recipe.

"First soak three broken hard-tack in snow-water until they are soft. Add 60 raisins and pemmican the size of 4½ eggs. Stir slowly but energetically until the mess is thoroughly amalgamated. Boil slowly over an alcohol stove, add three tablespoonfuls of granulated sugar, and serve in a granite-ware cup."

But between them and the North-East ridge lay a gigantic _serac_. For a day and a half they lay storm-bound under it, and then, on the morning of 11th July, tried to cut their way up the ice wall. It proved most difficult and dangerous work, and presently, owing to the diminishing provisions, they realized it was impossible. Again and again they attempted it, for only that way was there a road to the North-East ridges. But at last they had to give it up as hopeless, and turn their attention to the South-West _arête_.

This, too, proved too hard for them. They laboured on under constant ice-falls and avalanches, and reached a height of 10,300 feet, where they had perforce to halt. During these days they saw some marvellous mountain scenery. "The whole of the great cliffs of the box-cañon appeared at first glance to be on fire. Unnumbered thousands of tons of soft snow were avalanching from the southern flanks of Mount McKinley on to the glacier floor 5,000 feet below. The snow fell so far that it was broken into heavy clouds that rolled downward like heavy waves. The force of the rolling mass was terrific, and as it struck the blue-green glacier mail it threw a great snow cloud that raced like a live thing for 500 feet; whirling in the wind the avalanche had caused, the white wall swept across the valley, and almost before we were aware of it we were struggling and choking in a blinding and stinging cloud of ice dust."

They began their retreat, and their return to greenery and summer out of a hyperborean hell was like a man's recovery from a dangerous illness. Though the expedition failed, they were a merry party, for though every man was sunken-eyed and lean and hatchet-faced, he was in the pink of condition. It was nothing to them to carry a load of 120 lbs., which would have broken their backs in the first days. The party included men of diverse temperaments and multifarious attainments, and Mr. La Voy observed, "It is an education to travel with a bunch like ours; if anything should happen you can listen to a whole dictionary." In the end they came to their cache on the Chulitna, and they emptied it as children empty their Christmas stockings. "We were actually ravenous," says Mr. Belmore Browne, "and as jars of chow-chow, cans of maple-syrup, and tins of meat appeared we hugged them in our arms and danced delirious dances on the sand! One of the great truths of life that one learns to understand in the North is that it is well worth while to go without the things one wants, for the greater the sacrifice the greater the reward when the wish is consummated. I have eaten with all manner of hungry men, from the sun-browned riders of the sage to the bidarka-men of the Aleutians, and I have feasted joyously on 'seal-liver,' 'seagull-omelets,' and 'caribou spinach'; but never have I seen men eat more, or better food!"

II

As soon as the explorers returned to civilization they began to plan a third attempt. It was clear to them that the western and southern faces of the mountain were impracticable, and that their best chance was on the North-East ridge. This, however, could not be approached from the south; so it became their object to get in on the north side. Their explorations in 1910 had proved the difficulties of a summer trip, for loads had to be transported on men's backs over many miles of glacier. They therefore decided to make a winter expedition of it and to use Alaskan dog teams. The best route seemed to be up the Susitna and Chulitna rivers, and they hoped somewhere near the head of the Chulitna to find a pass in the Alaskan range which would take them round the north face of Mount McKinley.

In October, 1911, Mr. La Voy began to relay supplies up the Chulitna, the plan being for him to join Professor Parker and Mr. Belmore Browne at Susitna in February of 1912. As Cook Inlet is choked by ice during winter the travellers had to leave the steamer at Seward, and make a long and difficult overland journey by way of Glacier City and the Knik fjord to the Susitna River. There they found Mr. La Voy with the dog teams. He reported that he had taken the bulk of the outfit to a cache on the Chulitna, several miles beyond the mouth of the Tokositna.

The journey up the Susitna, which was now a flat snow trail, went easily and pleasantly. When they reached the cache they found to their disgust that a wolverine, which is the arch-fiend of those northern wildernesses, had managed to break in, though it was placed for greater security on a platform of logs among the trees. The brute had destroyed a good deal of the dog-feed and bacon, and a new and expensive camera of Mr. La Voy's, which had been swung on the top of a 30-foot pole. The wolverine had climbed the pole, cut off the corners of the leather case, and gnawed its way into the camera!

From the cache began a long system of relays, for it was impossible to carry all the equipment in one journey. There was now no trail, and a road had to be "broken" before each stage. The route lay up the Chulitna, and the travellers hoped to find some large stream coming down on their left which would indicate a gap in the Alaskan range. Any such gap would, of course, be filled with glaciers, the water from which must form a river. On the whole, winter travelling compared favourably with summer. The men used snow-shoes to break the trail, and after equipment had been transported for five miles, returned on the empty sleds for new loads. Winter had not killed all signs of wild life, though hunting was difficult, and the snow was dotted with the tracks of innumerable wild things. Even a finch was heard singing. Camping was perfectly comfortable, and in a tent with the stove lit and beds of green spruce prepared, the nights were warm and peaceful.

At last, as the trees began to thin, they came to a point where the valley split and a great cañon turned north towards the range. Travel now became rougher, for the broad level flats gave way to snow-covered rapids and big drifts. As they advanced up the gorge a glacier was seen winding down from the centre of the mountains. One night Mr. Belmore Browne had an accident which might have proved serious. He went out to shoot an owl for food, and as the ejector of his little rifle had been removed the cartridge came back on his eye and just missed his right eyeball. It gave him an eerie feeling to see the friendly dogs lapping up the bloodstained snow. Shortly after he made a reconnaissance of twenty-five miles ahead, and found the glacier they had seen from afar off running like a great white road into the hills. The route seemed possible, but there were ugly ice precipices at the head which suggested that the crossing of the pass might not be easy.

A second reconnaissance took him to the head of the glacier. At first no crossing could be discerned, but suddenly at the head of the right-hand basin the mountains broke away and he saw a smooth snow-field leading to the crest. He climbed to the top of it, and at first saw nothing but a sheer precipice. At length, however, he discovered on the right a gentle snow slope leading down into a great snow cup, and realized that the pass could be crossed.

On 3rd April the main camp was pushed up to a height of 6,000 feet. Then came a delay from a blizzard, which confined the explorers for twenty-four hours to their tents. It was bitterly cold, and everything, including the alarm clock, froze stiff. They managed, however, to get a little fire with an empty pemmican case, and, with the stove, had a sort of party in the tent--men, dogs, and everything. The party was, however, unceremoniously broken up by one of the dogs backing into the stove, and filling the tent with a cloud of smoke from singed hair.

Next morning they crossed the divide, partly shooting and partly lowering their belongings over the 1,000-feet drop into the hollow. They were no sooner across when another blizzard arrived, and they were storm-bound for thirty-six hours. But their spirits were high. For the time they were done with uphill climbs, and they saw that by crossing a low pass at the head of another glacier they could reach the great Muldrow Glacier, which had been known to the world since 1902. This glacier would take them into the very heart of the mountain.

Without much difficulty they crossed the pass, and, descending to the Muldrow moraine, they realized with joy that they were on the northern side of the Alaskan range. It was now nearly the middle of April, and they found themselves in the kind of country that hunters dream of. There was a chance of fresh meat, and, to men who had been seventeen days on the ice, the hope of a change in their menu and the sight of vegetation were an intoxication. Mr. Belmore Browne went out one morning, and fell in with a herd of white sheep (_Ovis Dalli_). He secured three, and that night the camp feasted. "In cold weather," he writes, "one has a craving for fat, and in the wilderness one is less particular about the way meat is cooked. Our desire for fat was so intense that we tried eating the raw meat, and finding it good beyond words, we ate freely of the fresh mutton. I can easily understand now why savage tribes make a practice of eating uncooked flesh." The white sheep was not the only game. There was a special variety of caribou; there was the Alaskan moose; there was an occasional grizzly; and there were quantities of ptarmigan. The travellers showed the most sportsmanlike spirit in refraining from killing females or immature beasts.

From the Muldrow Glacier they turned westward and struck the McKinley fork of the Kantishna River, which flows to the Yukon. Presently they were in timber country, and realized that they had crossed the Alaskan range "from wood to wood," and incidentally had added two new glacier systems to the map. After snow and ice and pemmican they had greenery and fresh meat, and, as they worked their way to the lowlands, the first flush of spring. Above all, they had the North-East ridges (of which there were three) above them to offer an apparently possible route to the summit. They saw a glacier running between the central and northern North-East ridges which they decided would be their road. Mr. Belmore Browne went out to prospect, and, climbing the head of a valley, found himself looking down upon the upper Muldrow Glacier, which he now realized was split in two by the central North-East ridge. He saw also that the northern branch of it gave a road to the very base of the central peak.

A base camp was established on 24th April, and four days later began the chief reconnaissance. They took with them a dog team, and, for equipment, their mountain tent, instruments, alcohol lamps, and provisions of pemmican, chocolate, hard-tack, sugar, and raisins. The total outfit weighed about 600 lbs. They started at night, when the snow was in better condition, and found the northern branch of the Muldrow, which they called the McKinley Glacier, rising in steps like a huge staircase. Camp was pitched at the base of a serac between two great cliffs of solid blue ice.