Patrick looked over, then came to see me. He ducked his head under my nose and put his arm around my chest. “No worries, lad,” he said. “We’ll get you home, no fear.”
There was another burial, another cairn. Then all together we pulled the sledge, three men and a pony working together. Every time we stopped, the men built the most enormous wall. They piled me high with every blanket and sack they could find. And they fed me Blucher’s food, and Blossom’s, as well as my own. They stuffed me full at every meal.
Day after day, we walked to the north, toward the lowest point of the sun. There, at midnight he sank below the horizon, only to rise again right after. I had watched his travels allmy life and knew that he was heading for his wintering place, that he would soon be gone altogether.
It was a miserable time, but a wonderful time as well. I lived high on the hog with my extra rations, and I didn’t feel like an old pony tagging along with the men. I felt like a companion, a friend.
When cracks began to appear in the ice, I knew we were getting close to the sea. The men went more carefully then, sometimes stomping on the snow to make sure it was solid.
We strolled along, everyone pleased to see Mount Erebus loom ahead of us, its plume of smoke like a welcoming flag. Patrick stroked my shoulder. “You’ve done it, James,” he said. “You’re home.”
I thought so too. But with my next step, the snow broke apart underneath me. I dropped like a stone, right into a crevasse.
It was an awful shock to have the ground fall away, to be suddenly standing on nothing. I felt my heart push up through my throat as I hurtled down. For just an instant, my eyes were level with Patrick’s—and what a startled look I saw! Then he was above me and I was still falling.
I thought I was going to disappear inside the Barrier. But suddenly, with a thud, I came to a stop.
Luckily, my belly was a little bit wider than the crevasse, and I stuck in the ice like a cork.
The men watched me squirm and kick. My hooves were dangling underneath me, above a frightening chasm thatmight have been bottomless for all I could see. The men looked awfully surprised at first, but soon they started laughing.
“It’s all that high living,” said Mr. Teddy. “It’s saved your life, James Pigg.”
Mr. Forde got a long rope from the sledge. They tied it around me and pulled together. They rolled me out onto the snow, and I squirmed like a beetle until I managed to get myself up. The men kept laughing, but there was nothing mean or cruel about it. I
was
a bit roly-poly.
When he saw that I was safe, Patrick walked right to the edge of the crevasse. He bent down and peered into it. “It’s very blue,” he said, smiling. “Deep and dark.”
I went over to see for myself. I stood right beside Patrick, hung my head like him, and together we stared straight down into the darkness. We stared and we stared, then I turned my head and looked at my friend.
Mr. Forde and Mr. Teddy found this enormously funny. I didn’t know why. They put their hands on their thighs and bent forward, laughing all over again. Patrick grinned at me in the way that made me feel warm inside. “That was a near shave for you, James Pigg,” he said.
Far to the west, at his hut on the Barrier, Amundsen is doing some housekeeping between his journeys to the depots. He takes time to make sure that his dogs will survive the winter in comfort
.
From the beginning, he has provided tents for the dogs. Until now, they’ve been sitting on the surface, but that won’t do when temperatures fall to forty and fifty and sixty below. So he sinks the floor of each tent six feet into the Barrier, chopping the ice with axes. Then he drives twelve posts into the floor, spaced evenly along the wall. One dog will be tethered to each post. Otherwise, they would kill each other before spring
.
With that job done, Amundsen loads seven sledges and sets off again to the south. In
There was another burial, another cairn. Then all together we pulled the sledge, three men and a pony working together. Every time we stopped, the men built the most enormous wall. They piled me high with every blanket and sack they could find. And they fed me Blucher’s food, and Blossom’s, as well as my own. They stuffed me full at every meal.
Day after day, we walked to the north, toward the lowest point of the sun. There, at midnight he sank below the horizon, only to rise again right after. I had watched his travels allmy life and knew that he was heading for his wintering place, that he would soon be gone altogether.
It was a miserable time, but a wonderful time as well. I lived high on the hog with my extra rations, and I didn’t feel like an old pony tagging along with the men. I felt like a companion, a friend.
When cracks began to appear in the ice, I knew we were getting close to the sea. The men went more carefully then, sometimes stomping on the snow to make sure it was solid.
We strolled along, everyone pleased to see Mount Erebus loom ahead of us, its plume of smoke like a welcoming flag. Patrick stroked my shoulder. “You’ve done it, James,” he said. “You’re home.”
I thought so too. But with my next step, the snow broke apart underneath me. I dropped like a stone, right into a crevasse.
It was an awful shock to have the ground fall away, to be suddenly standing on nothing. I felt my heart push up through my throat as I hurtled down. For just an instant, my eyes were level with Patrick’s—and what a startled look I saw! Then he was above me and I was still falling.
I thought I was going to disappear inside the Barrier. But suddenly, with a thud, I came to a stop.
Luckily, my belly was a little bit wider than the crevasse, and I stuck in the ice like a cork.
The men watched me squirm and kick. My hooves were dangling underneath me, above a frightening chasm thatmight have been bottomless for all I could see. The men looked awfully surprised at first, but soon they started laughing.
“It’s all that high living,” said Mr. Teddy. “It’s saved your life, James Pigg.”
Mr. Forde got a long rope from the sledge. They tied it around me and pulled together. They rolled me out onto the snow, and I squirmed like a beetle until I managed to get myself up. The men kept laughing, but there was nothing mean or cruel about it. I
was
a bit roly-poly.
When he saw that I was safe, Patrick walked right to the edge of the crevasse. He bent down and peered into it. “It’s very blue,” he said, smiling. “Deep and dark.”
I went over to see for myself. I stood right beside Patrick, hung my head like him, and together we stared straight down into the darkness. We stared and we stared, then I turned my head and looked at my friend.
Mr. Forde and Mr. Teddy found this enormously funny. I didn’t know why. They put their hands on their thighs and bent forward, laughing all over again. Patrick grinned at me in the way that made me feel warm inside. “That was a near shave for you, James Pigg,” he said.
Far to the west, at his hut on the Barrier, Amundsen is doing some housekeeping between his journeys to the depots. He takes time to make sure that his dogs will survive the winter in comfort
.
From the beginning, he has provided tents for the dogs. Until now, they’ve been sitting on the surface, but that won’t do when temperatures fall to forty and fifty and sixty below. So he sinks the floor of each tent six feet into the Barrier, chopping the ice with axes. Then he drives twelve posts into the floor, spaced evenly along the wall. One dog will be tethered to each post. Otherwise, they would kill each other before spring
.
With that job done, Amundsen loads seven sledges and sets off again to the south. In
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