th.

He swept his little party together and at three P. M., with a cheery
"Good-by! Good Luck!" he was off. His Esquimo boys, attempting English,
too, gave us their "Good-bys."

The Captain had gone. Commander Peary and I were alone (save for the
four Esquimos), the same we had been with so often in the past years,
and as we looked at each other we realized our position and we knew
without speaking that the time had come for us to demonstrate that we
were the men who it had been ordained, should unlock the door which held
the mystery of the Arctic. Without an instant's hesitation, the order
to push on was given, and we started off in the trail made by the
Captain to cover the Farthest North he had made and to push on over one
hundred and thirty miles to our final destination.

Day and night were the same. My thoughts were on the going and getting
forward, and on nothing else. The wind was from the southeast, and
seemed to push on, and the sun was at our backs, a ball of livid fire,
rolling his way above the horizon in never-ending day.

With my proven ability in gauging distances, Commander Peary was ready
to take the reckoning as I made it and he did not resort to solar
observations until we were within a hand's grasp of the Pole.

The memory of those last five marches, from the Farthest North of
Captain Bartlett to the arrival of our party at the Pole, is a memory of
toil, fatigue, and exhaustion, but we were urged on and encouraged by
our relentless commander, who was himself being scourged by the final
lashings of the dominating influence that had controlled his life. From
the land to 87 deg. 48' north, Commander Peary had had the best of the
going, for he had brought up the rear and had utilized the trail made by
the preceding parties, and thus he had kept himself in the best of
condition for the time when he made the spurt that brought him to the
end of the race. From 87 deg. 48' north, he kept in the lead and did his
work in such a way as to convince me that he was still as good a man as
he had ever been. We marched and marched, falling down in our tracks
repeatedly, until it was impossible to go on. We were forced to camp, in
spite of the impatience of the Commander, who found himself unable to
rest, and who only waited long enough for us to relax into sound sleep,
when he would wake us up and start us off again. I do not believe that
he slept for one hour from April 2 until after he had loaded us up and
or