They had a good man in Dr. Wright. His Arctic experiences had taught him many a lesson, and he was little likely to make a mistake in anything that concerned the health or feeding of the men and animals under him.
A word about the food supplies. The feeding of the bears and ponies had, before starting, been Wright’s greatest concern, and many an experiment he had made.
All food was to be in the condensed and preserved form, and the biscuits, which had been prepared especially before leaving Britain, contained the best essence of beef. These for dogs, bears, and men. Those for the ponies were simple.
Being so far from their base, the ships near the sea of Ross, they could expect no succour or assistance of any kind; but with the immense dragging power at his command, Dr. Wright had carefully computed that a six months’ supply could be taken at least. In addition to this, they had frozen seal beef for the bears, when doing the heaviest work, and on this, with a biscuit or two a day, they had been hitherto fed. We very naturally believe that bears, being so very large, require a large amount to eat. This is a great mistake. There is no animal I know of who, in proportion to his size, eats less, unless it be the Eskimo dog. Both dogs and bears, in winter, can subsist on hardly anything, provided they have a large amount of sleep.
And now that they had safely reached this far south, and the really heavy work was over, Dr. Wright had a comparatively easy mind. Yet he himself would always superintend the serving-out of the stores, and the feeding of his camp, in the most economical way, and on a scientific basis.
It is this very food difficulty, I believe, and this alone, which prevents the brave hearts of Britain and America from hoisting their flags at the North Pole.
That is going to be reached, and don’t forget what I say, reader. And I think—I will not say I fear—that the Stars and Stripes will float there in the Northless Land before the British.
I call the Arctic Pole the Northless Land, boys, because there the meridians or parallels of longitude all meet at point, and parallels of latitude all begin. There is no longer any east, west, nor north, to the man at the Pole, whose name, I am told, is Cameron. I suppose Cameron’s house is like John o’ Groat’s—a round one. Figuratively speaking, everything is beneath him, and from whichever window he looks he is looking due south. If Cameron has a bit of a garden encircling his house, which, being a Scotsman, he is bound to have, to grow a few potatoes and a bit of kail in, then every time he walks round this garden he walks round the earth, and it would be the same at the South Pole, only vice versâ, as a glance at the map will show you. All meridians point due north, as I said before.
It was in the first week of January that Ingomar and Curtis started to make their last record.
Its success would depend in a great measure on how provisions held out. But they had good hopes, good spirits and health; and the dogs, even honest Wallace, had never been in better form, nor fitter.