rn
coast of Greenland. The ice-pack began disintegrating much too early
that year to suit, but we pushed on, and had it not been for furious
storms enforcing delays and losses of many precious days, the Pole would
have been reached. As it was, Commander Peary and his party got to 87 deg.
6' north, thereby breaking _all records_, and in spite of incredible
hardships, hunger and cold, returned safely with all of the expedition,
and on Christmas Eve the _Roosevelt_, after a most trying voyage,
entered New York harbor, somewhat battered but still seaworthy.

Despite the fact that it was to be his last attempt, Commander Peary no
sooner reached home than he announced his intention to return, this time
to be the last, and this time to win.

However, a year intervened, and it was not until July 6, 1908, with the
God-Speed and good wishes of President Roosevelt, that the good ship
named in his honor set sail again. The narrative of that voyage, and the
story of the discovery of the North Pole, follow.

The ages of the wild, misgiving mystery of the North Pole are over,
to-day, and forever it stands under the folds of Old Glory.

CHAPTER II

OFF FOR THE POLE--HOW THE OTHER EXPLORERS LOOKED--THE LAMB-LIKE
ESQUIMOS--ARRIVAL AT ETAH

July 6, 1908: We're off! For a year and a half I have waited for this
order, and now we have cast off. The shouting and the tumult ceases, the
din of whistles, bells, and throats dies out, and once again the long,
slow surge of the ocean hits the good ship that we have embarked in. It
was at one-thirty P. M. to-day that I saw the last hawse-line cast
adrift, and felt the throb of the engines of our own ship. Chief
Wardwell is on the job, and from now on it is due north.

Oyster Bay, Long Island Sound: We are expecting President Roosevelt. The
ship has been named in his honor and has already made one voyage towards
the North Pole, farther north than any ship has ever made.

July 7: At anchor, the soft wooded hills of Long Island give me a
curious impression. I am waiting for the command to attack the savage
ice- and rock-bound fortress of the North, and here instead we are at
anchor in the neighborhood of sheep grazing in green fields.

Sydney, N. S., July 17, 1908: All of the expedition are aboard and those
going home have gone. Mrs. Peary and the children, Mr. Borup's father,
and Mr. Harry Whitney, and some other guests were the last to leave the
_Roosevelt_, and have given us a last