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A New Memorial /© the North Pole Discoverer 4 By ELMO SCOTT WATSON " 1 AST month there billed from New York a romantic expedi tion. It went aboard the schoon er Effie M. Morrissey, com manded by Capt. Itob Bartlett, and Its destination was Cape a York, Greenland, 76 degrees north. On one of the high cliffs at Cape York the mem bers of the party will erect a monument, rising 00 feet in the air and tapering to a shin ing cap of non-corrosive steel which will catch the beams of the midnight sun nnd act as a beacon to ships which come that far into the Arctic regions. This monument will be a memo rial to one of the greatest Arctic explorers in history, the man who first reached the North Pole, Admiral Ilobert E. Peary of the United States navy. The story of Peary’s career and his final at tainment of the North pole, the goal of explor ers from every nation for centuries, is the story of an heroic American to whom there was lit erally “no such word as failure.” More than that, he has justly been called “the first per fect Arctic scientist” for in his preparations for his Polar expeditions he never left any thing to chance. While still a student in Bowdoin college Peary became interested in the Arctic regions and t(*ok a well planned course In Arctic geography, polar science and dietetics. His civil engineer degree from Bowdoin had been the result of a carefully planned course to fit himself for polar exploration. He applied and was given a com mission In the navy in 1881 and during his tour of duty In Central America sj>ent all his leisure studying further in polar navigation. In ISB6 he secured leave of absence to test out his theoretical knowledge by a short trip to Green land. His next trip, IS9I, was such another recon naissance of the Ice cap. He went north up the Greenland coast to within a few miles of Elisha Kent Kane’s old base and proceeded with three companions on a sledge trip across the island. At a point 180 miles from camp, he sent two companies back, they having fulfilled their mission of carrying reserve food for the two who were to make the final dash. He com pleted the overland journey on July 4, 1892, scaled a cliff 4,000 feet high to get down to the sea, making on the outward journey nearly GOO miles, a record for sucn exploration. In returning to camp, he struck directly across the island, reaching an altitude of 8,000 feet and traveling 500 miles. In 1593, accompanied by his wife, he returned to a location Just north of the great glacier that had defeated Kane. It was at this camp that, *on September 12, his daughter was born. On March 6, 1594, Toary started inland across the ice again with eight men and nine ty-two dogs. At an elevation of 5.500 feet and 134 miles from camp, he was snowbound; his dogs began dying, and his men were frost bitten. A general advance was manifestly im possible; so caching his reserve stores and sending back the disabled men. he pushed on indomitably with only three companions. In fourteen days thereafter, he made only eighty five miles; to try further was inviting catas trophe, and so he retreated to camp, arriving with only 26 of his original 92 dogs. When the relief ship came for him during the summer, he decided, in spite of his short supplies, to remain with two volunteers an- • t^rr Peary's M.onumentinArlmqton (£) HAft & EW>nc, other winter to achieve what he had failed to do the last winter. IBs wife and child and the rest of the party returned to the states. From Eskimo neighbors he got four volunteers and increased his dog pack to 63; with these and his two companions he started across again. The third day out one of the Eskimos deserted, but undeterred, the intrepid explorer continued. His cache of the preceding winter could not be found so that failure seemed cer tain. He ordered the Eskimos hack and with 41 dogs and his two men continued. Beaching the eastern coast toward the end of May, he killed 10 musk ox and with food for 17 days and a frozen man who had to be hauled on the sledge he began a push for camp against starvation. Almost exhausted he reached camp June 25. Having achieved his objective, he re turned to the states on the relief ship which came for him a month later. In IS9B he was back for a four-year attempt for the pole. He put his ship in for the win ter near Cape Sabine, just south of Greely’s tragic camp. Through ice floes and crevasses he followed the coast, sending Eskimos nnd men back as they became exhausted or in jured. finally on January 6 reaching Greely’s observatory on Lady Franklin Bay. On Feb ruary 18, 1899, they were back at the ship. It was found necessary to amputate seven of the commander’s toes which had been frozen and further exploration that summer was aban doned. In March 1900, he moved up to Fort Conger, making all along the coast caches of food against a forced retreat. On April 15, he crossed the ice with his faithful negro servant, Henson, who accompanied him on every ex pedition. and five Eskimos, to the Greenland coast, and pushed north on sledges. Skirting the north point of Greenland, prov ing finally that Greenland was an island that did not extend to the pole, he made complete maps of the whole region. From Fort Conger, during the winter of 1900-1901, he made short trips to the north preparatory to an advance in the spring. This attempt for the pole he was forced to abandon north of Grant Land and returned to Fort Conger for another winter. He left Fort Conger on February 24 for another try for the pole; after making a new farthest north, 84:17, he again met a great open lane in the ice and had to abandon the attempt. He returned to the states in September. 1902. ttte examiner yv»oimt*oct \ Undaunted, he renewed his attempt in 1905. Again at 84:36 in Grant Land he came across the open lead and for six days was unable to cross. When the young ice formed he made a dash to cross the lead. Most of the sledges made the passage when a gale sprang up, breaking up the thin ice, with most of the provisions still on the south side. There was nothing to do but push on to the north. At 85:12 a storm of snow held them up inactive in camp for six days. Meanwhile, they steadi ly drifted some 70 miles southward. On April 21 they had reached 87:6, a new farthest north; realizing the foolhardiness of further advance, I’eary faced south for the re turn to camp. His final expedition came in 1908. Accom panied by 11 scientists, ice experts and Matt Henson, his faithful servant, he returned to the base on Grant Land. On March 1, with a great ice army of 6 men 17 Eskimos, 133 dogs and 19 sledges, in two divisions under himself and Captain Bartlett, he started straight out over the ice. They made good speed to the north until the opening of the spring season began to make the pack disintegrate. As men became exhausted or incapacitated from frost, Peary sent them back. As provisions became lower, more of the party were sent back, in order to enable those remaining to continue. By March 22, with less than 140 miles between him and the pole, Peary was alone with his negro, Hen son, and four Eskimos. In forced marches, feed ing full rations and pushing forward as rapidly as possible, he found himself on the morning of April 6 at 89:57 —less than three miles from his goal. A few hours later he was at the point where it was south no matter where he looked. At the spot where his observations determined the North pole to be Peary planted the Amer ican flag given him by his wife fifteen years before for that purpose. The colors of his cal lage fraternity, of the Navy league and of the Red Cross were added and records of the event left Thirty hours were consumed in observa tions, rest and preparations for the hazardous Journey back. But when Peary returned to civilization to reap the rewards of his achievement, it was to find that he had a bitter controversy on his hands. Dr. Frederick Cook, who had accom panied previous Peary expeditions as a surgeon, had claimed that he had reached the pole on April 21. 1908, ten months before Peary. At first Cook’s claims were accepted by scientists, then rejected as insufficiently proved. Peary's data were accepted by the National Geographic society as positive proof that he had reached the polo. Later from other sources recogni tion came to Peary—medals from learned soci eties, the acclaim of rulers and scientists, a 1 pension and the rank of rear admiral from his own country. When he died on February 20, 1920, the world joined in honoring his memory and now 12 years later his name is heard again throughout the world as those who knew him and loved him best prepare to pay the fit ting tribute of erecting to his memory a monu ment in the land he won his fame. o£s bv Western Newspaper Union.) NEW WISDOMS © By FANNIE HURST (© by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) (\S"NU Service) IT WAS as If, crash! a skyscraper had collapsed. Or a tornado de- I vastated a forest, or a segment ; of heaven fallen, obliterating every j thing in chaos. That was the way Frederick Farmington felt the noonday he emerged from the office of the most eminent diagnostician in New York city. Crash. Crash. Crash. Os course many men before him must have emerged from that same office with the same torment of emo tions. But nonetheless, to Frederick Farm ington, newly made president of his corporation, director of three others of equal importance, vice president of a bank and treasurer of a rail road, it seemed that never had blow smitten a man so in the midst I of life! In the midst of life, Farmington j had just been ordered out of it! That is to say, out of the rush j ing turmoil of his day-by-days. There was no longer any use try ing to elude the symptoms. The emi nent diagnostician had spared no words. Farmington’s left lung had two growing sore spots with a threat of one on the right. It was a matter of getting out of town one way or another, his doctor had informed him with rather purpose ful brutality. Byway of the Adi rondack express to the pine for ests, or byway of mahogany with silver handles. In the midst of life Farmington had been ordered out of it. Standing there on the steps of the doctor’s office in the gray of November, it seemed to Farming ton, with depression champing down upon him, that possibly of the two ways—ostracism to the Adiron dacks or the way of mahogany with silver handles the latter was preferable. Life was so jammed and pulsat ing an affair when you were in the midst of it as Farmington was! Life in the pine forests with the soughing of wind at night and the creaking of trees by day was all right for a two weeks summer va cation of It. But ostracism to It for what the doctor had termed an ! indefinite period— It was a matter of weeks before Farmington finally decided upon his alternative. The flow of life was too quick in him. Life too dear in him. Banishment to the pine woods If need be. But not death. Farmington was not ready for death. There were worlds to conquer. Earthly fields to dominate. At forty-three he had tasted too much of the elixir of success to relinquish the cup easily. Life. Life. The battle of Wall Street, the conflict of master industrial minds. The shrewd connivance with the picked business men of the country. Life. Life. Life. Farmington was greedy for it. The life of the ex ecutive. The leader. The captain. It was good to live. And so Farm ington surrendered to the prospect of temporary exile . . - . with the bitterest pain he had ever known in his life. In the midst of life, to the si lence of pine forests and the long motionless days in a log cabin. At first there were friends and the days were as clear as steel and the fishing and hunting helped them pass quickly enough, but the camp was on the top of a mountain and the motor roads left off G 2 miles be fore you reached it and train con nections were bad and the winter season in town set in with a bang, and the friends fell away. Those were the days when the loneliness first began to settle upon Farmington. The exile. Breathless, deathless days with only a moun tain guide, hired to live with him for company, and the tasks of books and a radio machine and a magnificent mechanical piano. Those were the days when the loneliness began to settle. And the beauty of the forest to recede and the sound of waterfall to beat into his brain with monotony, and the yearning for the tramp of men’s feet and the conflict of quick minds and the excitement of the fray to eat and gnaw at him. The clear, thin, biting cold days of the forest. The pellucid nights with stars like silver Christmas tree balls waiting to be plucked. A waterfall leaping in glory and sud denly frozen there, a shy and star tled loveliness. “All part of a loneliness. The devastating, eating, gnawing lone liness of this man of affairs. Pain in the lungs. Pain in the heart. Days and days of the kind of pain that made him irascible and difficult for even the old mountain guide, rather scornful and oblivi ous of the ways of men, to endure. A gnarled old oak tree of a guide. Strange secrets he knew. Out of the forest. The habits of wild things. The call of the loon. The way of the quick-flanked trout. The footfall of the deer. His lore was full of these delicate, lovely intima cies. lie knew the look in the eyes of i a trapped fox and was bitter at the women who wore their pelts. lie loved the prickly little mash of pine cones under him and had a pillow of them on this crude pal let. lie spent long days in the woods and came home more silent than they. Sometimes it seemed to Farming ton he must spring at the throat of this man who was so complacent with the mystery of the silence. Sometimes, watching him sleep through his own sleepless nights, it seemed to Farmington he must fly at his heart. To tear from it the secret. The secret of his capacity for silence. The silence that was eating into Farmington. Gnawing into him. Making him a little mad with terror of it. The radio did Its part to help. Yanking the outside world into the heart of the forest. And the mechan ical piano and the letters from his friends and the hint of the doings of men in the outside world that came with the weekly parcel post. But those were only moments out of hours. Hours of torment. Hours of trying to read out of the books, to tear out of the piano, something to counteract the loneli ness. Poor Farmington! It is difficult in the haunts of men to learn how to be alone. Farmington frankly had horror of it. He had all his life been the sort of man who would call up a bore of a friend sooner than dine alone. Or sit through a vapid musical show sooner than spend an evening at home without guests. When Farmington so much as traveled from one city to an other he took a secretary along for company. And now, up here In the woods, not even the secretaries would re main for more than a few weeks at a time. Only Farmington and his old guide, who talked back to the birds in noises that resembled their own and who knew secrets of the forests that first had enter tained, but after a while began to pall on Farmington. Two years of this and then, as the saying goes, the house settled. That is, from a nervous, plunging kind of resistance, Farmington re ceded into a morose kind of acqui escence. Lethargy. Torpor. Or call it what you will. Sometimes days of silence in their little cabin, or the two of them, Farmington and his guide, tramping the woods hour nfter hour. Silently. There was so little to say. And, strangely enough, so much to observe— quick, fleeting life of the forest. It shimmered with it. Indeed, it kept the senses alert just being on the watch. The perky head of a chip munk where you least expected it. The slant of late sunlight through trees. Clear, cold music of water fall. Ever see a pine tree sway in wind? The bob-tailed leap of a rabbit? The wind-polished bole of a poplar? Farmington was the un conscious student in the mystery of this lore. Sometimes the old guide used secretly to smile. Farm ington coming home of a dusk with a few choppy words of what he had seen. Mysteries too subtle for many words. Mysteries as lovely as the leap of a deer. Then a great diagnostician, for a fee that would have been ransom for a king, journeyed up to the mountain shack. The sky and the pines and the silence had done their work well. The two sores on one lung and the threat of a sore on the other had entirely disappeared. Farm ington had won. Farmington was released from the forest and given his ticket of leave back to the haunts of men. And Farmington, after weeks of procrastination with himself, did not take it. There was not much explaining to be done about it. In fact he never even discussed it with his guide. They just sat side by side smoking pipeful after pipeful of si lence. The old guide knew, of course. With the sensitiveness that helped him to know the footfall of a deer. He knew. The peace had bored its way into Farmington. Far, far from the tramp-tramp-tramp of the feet of man, Farmington had heard the footfall of the deer. And it was worth waiting for to hear the footfall of another. And all the strange, new wisdoms that went with knowing and loving the delicate sound of the footfall of a deer. Modern River “Ark*” While Noah was reputed to be the first builder of an ark more modern types of this style of craft were made by river men, who used them to float coal at a cost of about $o a ton from the Pennsylvania mines to the Atlantic seaboard. It is said that the “arks” used in transportation of the fuel were so cumbersome that they could not be brought back against the river cur rents and were therefore sold for what they would bring. These arks held about GO tons of coal each. Mammoth Tusks Along the northern coast of Si beria today, the tides still are cast ing up pieces of ivory from the tusks of those famous mammoths which became extinct through floods about 1,000 years ago and have since been entombed in the ice floes of the Arctic ocean. —Col- lier's Weekly. Southwest News Items Construction of a new highway be tween Aztec and Cedarhill, N. M., has been started. The state prison construction pro gram at Phoenix, which has been un der way for several years, is nearing completion. The largest unit was the new cell house at a cost of $152,763.15. Three bills, one of which is already before Congress, will provide for a gigantic trade of lands in and about the Navajo reservation to enlarge the reservation by 3,000,000 acres or about j 4,700 square miles, Indian officials I said at Gallup, N. M. The board of regents of the State University of New Mexico has planned the budget to include a flat ten per cent cut in salaries of the faculty members. At the same time bids were asked for a steel grandstand for the football field. Possible savings of from a million to 100 million dollars to Indians of the United States through passage of a bill now before Congress, were re vealed by Assistant Commissioner J. Henry Scattergood at the Navajo Tribal council in Fort Wingate, N. M. Creation of a Petrified Forest Paint ed Desert national monument is fa vored by the Navajo county, Arizona, board of supervisors, Holbrook civic clubs and the St. Johns Lions Club, C. J. Smith, custodian of the Petrified Forest monument, revealed in Wins low. Dr. Paul S. Burgess, dean of the University College of Agriculture cf Arizona was designated by President Hoover and Homer L. Shantz, presi dent of the institution to represent it at the annual convention of the Ari zona Wool Growers’ Association in Flagstaff. War on eagles for their depreda tions on young livestock is contem plated in the Bisbee vicinity. The great birds with wing spreads of six to seven feet are causing ranchers considerable concern by swooping down and soaring aloft with a young calf or lamb. Coe Howard, Portales, was elected president of New Mexico's w-orld’s fair commission. Will Keleher of Albuquer que, was made vice president and Mrs. J. D. Atwood, of Roswell, secre tary-treasurer. Plans of the commis sion are not yet completed, according to the governor. The state corporation commission has granted all railroads operating in New Mexico permission to place in effect special weekend summer rates to and from points in New Mexico. The rates will be one fare plus 25 cents. Tickets may be purchased on Friday and will expire on Tuesday. A new survey of the damage caused at Nogales, Arizona, when a four-foot wall of Water poured down off the mountainsides and swept through this city and Nogales, Mex., revealed about 100 homeless persons and property losses approximating SIOO,OOO, most of the damage was in the Mexican city. Miss Margaret Blee of Santa Fe county, New Mexico, and school health nurse, has been awarded a scholarship given by Vanderbilt University of Nashville, Tenn., for outstanding work. Miss Blee will study at the institution for nine months. She is a graduate of St. Joseph’s hospital, Kansas City. The wheat harvest is now under way in eastern New Mexico with the crop yielding from 6 to 12 bushels per acre. Grain dealers said that the grain is of good quality, but the percentage of protein does not exceed 13 per cent. Hail has damaged the crop in several sections of the wheat growing terri tory. Non-reservation Indian schools will buy surplus food stuffs and Navajo blankets for their institutions from Navajo Indian reservations this win ter. The plan agreed to by superin tendents of Albuquerque and Santa Fe Indian schools, the Burke Navajo vocational school at Fort Wingate and Commissioner Charles J. Rhoads, will provide Indians with a long sought cash market. The United States forest service and the Arizona game department are con ducting a survey of elk and antelope in the Flagstaff district to determine whether the ranges are overstocked to a point that damage is being done. Reports from several sources, largely from cattle and sheep growers, de clare the wild animals are encroaching on livestock grazing lands and must be put under control to prevent a re currence of the Kaibab forest situa tion. The New Mexico state school fund has only $940,879 available for appor tionment, the smallest amount for years. Deputy State Treasurer R. L. Ormsbee says. Inasmuch as there ha& been a gain in the school census along with a decrease in receipts into the state school fund, he estimates that the per capita distribution this year is $6.64; that is that much for each person of school age, between 5 and 21, shown by the census. Last year it was $9.05. The board of supervisors, in adopt ing a tentative budget of SIIO,OOO, an nounces Coconino county (Ariz.) government costs will be reduced 18 per cent for the next fiscal year. The Grant County, N. M., Red Cross chapter has received and distributed to the relief committees of the county 5,600 24% pound bags of government flour. This shipment, consisting of two carloads, was the second to be delivered here for the relief of the needy and unemployed. The flour was made from gram held by the Federal Wheat Board.