dered us to go back over our old trail, and I often think that from
the instant when the order to return was given until the land was again
sighted, he was in a continual daze.
Onward we forced our weary way. Commander Peary took his sights from the
time our chronometer-watches gave, and I, knowing that we had kept on
going in practically a straight line, was sure that we had more than
covered the necessary distance to insure our arrival at the top of the
earth.
It was during the march of the 3d of April that I endured an instant of
hideous horror. We were crossing a lane of moving ice. Commander Peary
was in the lead setting the pace, and a half hour later the four boys
and myself followed in single file. They had all gone before, and I was
standing and pushing at the upstanders of my sledge, when the block of
ice I was using as a support slipped from underneath my feet, and before
I knew it the sledge was out of my grasp, and I was floundering in the
water of the lead. I did the best I could. I tore my hood from off my
head and struggled frantically. My hands were gloved and I could not
take hold of the ice, but before I could give the "Grand Hailing Sigh of
Distress," faithful old Ootah had grabbed me by the nape of the neck,
the same as he would have grabbed a dog, and with one hand he pulled me
out of the water, and with the other hurried the team across.
He had saved my life, but I did not tell him so, for such occurrences
are taken as part of the day's work, and the sledge he safeguarded was
of much more importance, for it held, as part of its load, the
Commander's sextant, the mercury, and the coils of piano-wire that were
the essential portion of the scientific part of the expedition. My
kamiks (boots of sealskin) were stripped off, and the congealed water
was beaten out of my bearskin trousers, and with a dry pair of kamiks,
we hurried on to overtake the column. When we caught up, we found the
boys gathered around the Commander, doing their best to relieve him of
his discomfort, for he had fallen into the water, also, and while he was
not complaining, I was sure that his bath had not been any more
voluntary than mine had been.
It was about ten or ten-thirty A. M., on the 7th of April, 1909, that
the Commander gave the order to build a snow-shield to protect him from
the flying drift of the surface-snow. I knew that he was about to take
an observation, and while we worked I was nervously apprehensive, fo
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