Surviving Antarctica

by Andrea White

  The clock ticked loudly inside Robert’s head. After last night’s disaster, all they had was a day’s worth of pemmican. They ought to get to the first depot in eight hours, but to be extra safe, he’d figure on a ten-hour journey to the depot. As long as nothing else went wrong, they would arrive at the depot a little hungry, but they would be fine.

  Robert resumed loading his cycle’s sled. Since Billy was going first, they were moving the critical gear to Robert’s sled and Polly was going to ride with Robert. Robert wouldn’t let himself worry about the crevasses they were likely to encounter. “Prepare for the negative, but don’t dwell on it” was Robert Johnson’s first rule of wilderness survival.

  Two hours after breakfast, Billy, who was going to lead, gunned his silver-and-blue snowcycle. Even though it was early, the sun was polishing the surface of the ground, and it looked like a skating rink—so blue, so smooth.

  They were starting off without Brontosaurus. Andrew had returned exhausted from a fruitless chase, and they had had to wait for him to load his gear. A dog had slowed them down again, Billy thought.

  Robert surveyed the group. He’d been surprised when Billy had volunteered to stay in the lead on the blue ice. So far Billy had been handy with the maps and navigation, but he had been cautious. Until this morning Robert had thought that Billy was a bit of a coward.

  Grace came next, on the dogsled. Would the dogs cause more trouble today?

  Andrew was going to follow Grace. Since this surface was going to be particularly tough on the pony, they had decided that they needed to reduce her load. Andrew planned to lead her for the first few miles.

  Polly was helping Andrew with some last-minute adjustments to Cookie’s sled.

  Polly and Andrew were sure a funny pair, Robert thought. In a way, she was one of the smartest girls that he had ever met, and Andrew was one of the dumbest boys. She was smart but impractical. Scott’s expedition had taken place almost two hundred years ago. It had ended in his death. It seemed to Robert that the less said about Scott, the better. Yet if he let her, Polly would yammer on about Scott, Bowers, and Wilson—and who were those other guys? Anyway, she would yammer on until polar ghosts haunted all of them.

  “Wait up!” Robert shouted at Billy, who had already started to pull ahead. He wanted them to stay together. Just in case …

  Polly finished with the sled. Robert turned on his motor as she climbed behind him.

  At least the sound of the engine would drown out Polly’s chatter.

  26

  FOR THE PAST two hours, Billy had been leading. The group had had some problems with the smooth, windswept ice. Cookie’s hooves had broken through the crust many times. Once Andrew, who was on foot to reduce the weight on the pony, had stepped into a hole and sunk to his waist. The group had bypassed five or six cracks, as well as a field of fissured ice that looked like splintered glass. Andrew was walking more and more slowly but refused to trade off, saying that he wanted to stay with Cookie.

  Robert had removed all the important stuff from Billy’s sled in case he hit a crevasse, so Billy wasn’t pulling much of a load. Billy could easily have gone ahead and set up camp, but Robert insisted that they all stay together. Although they hadn’t made good time, Billy tried not to feel too frustrated; at least they hadn’t hit anything serious yet.

  Suddenly Billy spotted a gash in the ice a long way ahead of him. “Crevasse!” he yelled.

  When he got close to it, he jumped off the cycle and peered down. This one was deep and wide and brutal.

  Robert parked his cycle next to Billy’s. The word crevasse had not meant anything to him, but now he saw that it was a canyon with icy, slippery sides. He would hate to have to climb his way out of one of those.

  Death-traps in your path, opened by the pressure of slow-moving ice against the land, Polly remembered reading as she stared.

  Looking into the depths, Billy made up his mind. He didn’t care enough about being MVP to take the lead again.

  “We need to find a way across,” Robert said, pointing in the direction of the Pole. “Andrew, you hike along the crevasse and see if you can find a crossing. I’ll hike the other way. Billy, why don’t you see if you can boil us some hot chocolate?”

  “Billy, are you all right?” Polly asked.

  Billy looked into her worried face. “Oh, sure.” He headed for the sled to unload the Primus. He was all right if you thought that being scared to death was all right. What would have happened if he hadn’t seen the crevasse? If it had been covered with snow? How far would he have fallen before he hit the bottom?

  Robert followed the long crack in the ice to a point where it disappeared and all he could see was snow. A few yards later, the crevasse appeared again. This snowy area looked like a snow bridge, all right. But would it hold? He put one foot on the snow, and it felt solid. Was it strong enough for the heavy snowcycles, pony, and dogs to make it over?

  There was no way to test the bridge’s strength except to cross it. For reassurance, he stuck his hand in his backpack and squeezed the wooden handle of his ice pick. He hoped he wouldn’t ever have to use it. He put one foot on the snow bridge. It felt sturdy. He walked slowly and deliberately across the crevasse. The snow bridge held. He walked back and followed the crevasse to rejoin the group. He shouted at Andrew to return.

  When he got back, the kids were all there staring wide-eyed at him. “I’ve found a snow bridge,” he told them. “It took my weight, but I’m not sure what will happen if the animals and the cycles go over it.” He hated to ask her, but he felt he had to for the good of the expedition. “Polly, what did Scott do?”

  Polly thought about his question. From the books, she remembered a couple of incidents when the men, wearing harnesses, had been pulled up by ropes, but she had no idea what the harnesses looked like or what they were attached to. She knew that without all these details, her answer would only irritate Robert. “The men wore harnesses,” she answered anyway. “That way if one fell, the group could pull him up.”

  Robert felt his temper rise. “I haven’t seen any harnesses in our supplies. Have you?”

  Polly shook her head. “But the dogs wear harnesses. We could let them go first. If the snow bridge collapses, the sled that the dogs are pulling would serve as an anchor, and the dogs would hang in their harnesses.”

  Robert considered this for a minute. He wished he could avoid taking Polly’s advice, but it couldn’t be helped. “Okay. Let’s try that. Grace, are you willing?”

  Grace nodded.

  “You cross with the dogs,” Robert said.

  “What happens if the bridge collapses after Grace is on the other side?” Polly said.

  “I don’t know.” Robert had to admit that Polly had asked a good question.

  Polly thought out loud. “We’d have to unhook the pony sled. It’s the longest one. We’d lay it over the crevasse. Then everyone could crawl over to the other side. We’d lose the cycles and the pony.”

  “You’re right.” Andrew looked at Polly in admiration.

  “We don’t have many choices. If we don’t get to that first depot, we’ll starve,” Robert said. “Let’s go.”

  The bridge was wide enough for the team and appeared solid.

  “Okay, Grace,” Robert said. “You ready?”

  An Eskimo doesn’t fear what she must accept, Grace thought. She stood behind her sled and flicked her whip at the dogs.

  Together they rushed across the snow bridge. On the other side, Grace quieted her team: “Good dogs.”

  “You guys go next,” Robert said to Andrew, Billy, and Polly.

  “What about you, Robert?” Polly said.

  “If you all cross, I’m going to try to take the pony.”

  “I want to take the pony,” Andrew protested. Then he watched Polly take a few steps toward the bridge and stop.

  Instead of remembering the details of how Scott and his men had handled crevasses, Polly was paralyzed by another quotation: The light ripple
d snow bridge gives no hint or sign of the hidden danger, its position unguessable till man or beast is floundering, clawing, and struggling for foothold on the brink.

  Andrew had wanted to be last so he could cross with Cookie, but he could tell that Polly was scared. He made up his mind to help her. “Watch me,” he said. He started confidently across the bridge. “It’s easy, Polly!” he called back. He didn’t feel like a bumbler at all.

  Polly’s heart thumped loudly as she shadowed him.

  Billy crossed next, his body tense with fear. That crevasse had looked as deep as an ocean.

  Robert pulled at Cookie’s reins, but she refused to budge. He pulled again.

  “Let me try!” Andrew yelled from the other side of the crevasse.

  “I guess you’re going to have to!” Robert shouted.

  Andrew walked back across the bridge and took Cookie’s reins. Cookie followed him over, but the sled that she was pulling caught on a rough patch of ice. The sled landed on the far side of the crevasse with a jerk, but heaps of snow fell off the bridge. Andrew tried not to notice that he hadn’t heard the snow hit bottom.

  Polly cheered and hugged Cookie. Her mane was freckled with bits of ice.

  “Who said ponies weren’t good on polar trips?” Andrew whispered into Cookie’s ear. “You’re doing great.” He bent over and adjusted one of the pony’s snowshoes.

  “Now for the cycles,” Robert said. Billy’s was closest. Robert climbed on and turned the key.

  The key twisted, but the engine made no sound.

  “Come on, baby. Come on,” Robert said. The ignition still didn’t catch.

  “Try to pump it!” Billy called. He wanted to try it himself, but not badly enough to cross that snow bridge. Quite a bit of snow had fallen off.

  Robert turned the throttle again. The engine was dead. “Did you have any trouble with it this morning?” he yelled to Billy.

  “No!” Billy replied. He was almost sure that if he was sitting on the cycle, it would start for him. But what could he do? It wasn’t worth risking the crossing.

  Robert turned the key again and again. He felt betrayed. It couldn’t do this! It was the same old beautiful snowcycle that Billy had ridden that morning. His frustration made him feel hot and sweaty.

  “Try the other one!” Polly called.

  Robert reluctantly climbed off Billy’s snowcycle and climbed onto his own. His good old engine started right away. As Robert roared over the snow bridge without incident, he wondered what he should do.

  More snow dropped from the sides of the bridge. Safely across, Robert cut the motor.

  Polly interrupted his thoughts. “Let’s forget about the other snowcycle.”

  At that moment Polly’s voice irritated Robert so much that he wanted to shout “Shut up!” But he took a deep breath.

  “We can’t just leave it. That would mean leaving gear behind.” Even as he spoke, Robert reviewed the items on Billy’s sled: skis, a plank to form the door of an igloo, a few extra blankets, and some additional tools. Billy’s sled held nothing critical except the rifle.

  “That last trip over knocked off more snow. Don’t risk it, Robert,” Polly warned him.

  If Polly hadn’t made him nervous, Robert would be tempted to man-haul the sled and gear across. But he warned himself to be cautious.

  Robert walked over to the snow bridge. He put one foot on it. The bridge still felt solid. He put his other foot on it so that it was bearing his full weight. Still the bridge held. It still felt solid. He crossed the snow bridge and climbed onto Billy’s silver-and-blue snowcycle.

  “Wait a minute before trying it! The engine might be flooded!” Billy shouted. He would have sworn that the motor had been sound earlier that morning.

  Robert decided to give it ten minutes.

  Polly watched Robert tinkering with the motor. “What are you doing?” she called. “Why aren’t you trying it?”

  “He’s just giving it a little time,” Billy chided her. The cycle would start. It had to.

  Robert thought he could hear Polly sigh from the other side of the bridge.

  “Robert, at the beginning of the trip you warned Grace that she couldn’t get too attached to the dogs! You’re too attached to the snowcycle!” Polly shouted.

  “One more try!” Robert called back. If it didn’t start, he would walk back over the snow bridge and they’d get going. He turned the key. Nothing.

  Billy groaned.

  Robert couldn’t just leave the cycle here. He flipped it on its side and stared at the motor.

  “Robert, you promised!” Polly cried. “We’ve got to go!”

  “Maybe the carburetor’s frozen! If you warm it with a blanket for a few minutes … !” Billy suggested.

  Robert studied the engine.

  Polly interrupted his thoughts. “I don’t like the look of the sky!”

  Robert looked up. Darn, she was right! He had been so absorbed that he had failed to notice the weather. Gray clouds now hid the sun. He slowly stood up. “Billy, after we make camp, let’s hike back and see if we can get it started!”

  “Okay,” Billy replied. “Do you have a blanket?”

  “Good idea!” Robert pulled a blanket out of a gear bag on the sled and threw it over the snowcycle. He grabbed the rifle from the back of the sled and turned to cross the snow bridge. He had taken only a few steps when he heard a crack. He lost his footing right before he began falling through an avalanche of ice and snow.

  Polly’s scream followed him as he smashed into the bottom of the crevasse. Only it wasn’t the bottom, because his feet and legs crashed through it, and he was falling again, this time alongside another avalanche of ice and snow. His fingers lost their grip on the rifle. When he stopped, he couldn’t breathe. The fall had knocked the air out of him. Icy debris pinned his upper body against a wall but left his legs dangling. He gasped to regain his breath and tried to take stock of his surroundings.

  He kicked his legs but found that they didn’t touch solid ground. Unbelievably, they swung in empty air. Luck had kept him from falling much deeper. The remains of the icy bridge wedged him against the crevasse wall.

  He turned his face upward and saw Polly and Billy leaning over the edge. It was hard to judge the distance, but he guessed he had fallen about twenty or thirty feet. He looked down. To his right, the ice ledge below his arm extended for some distance, but to his left, the little ledge ended. He stared at the depths below.

  “Can you hear me?” Polly called, but the crevasse seemed to stretch her words into a long thin wail.

  “Yeah!” Robert shouted back.

  “Are you hurt?” Polly asked.

  “My shoulder,” Robert said.

  “Which one?”

  “My left shoulder.”

  Polly turned to Billy. “Billy, what should we do?”

  The crevasse was wide at the top but narrowed as it got deeper. Billy saw Robert’s blue wool cap surrounded by ice. It appeared that Robert had fallen onto a ledge twenty or more feet below them. Over to his left, the crevasse revealed its true depth. Perhaps a hundred feet. It was an impossible situation. “Robert, can you move?”

  “No,” Robert said.

  One hundred feet. Billy gulped. If Robert hadn’t gotten lucky, he would be lying on an icy bottom one hundred feet below them. They didn’t have a rope that would reach that far.

  “How are we going to get him out?” Polly asked.

  “We’ll rope him up,” Billy said.

  “I’ll find some ropes.” Andrew turned back toward the sleds, glad to be of use.

  “But if he’s wedged in?” Polly asked.

  “Can you use the ice pick?” Billy asked.

  “No!” Robert called.

  “If we threw you a rope, could you pull it over your head?” Polly said.

  “Yeah,” Robert answered.

  Grace could feel the wind rising. She looked over at the dogs. They appeared restless. She sensed a storm on its way.

&nb
sp; Andrew returned with two ropes.

  Billy took one and tied one end into a slipknot. He moved back to tie the other around Robert’s snowcycle. He climbed on the snowcycle and turned the ignition. It didn’t start.

  “They were programmed,” Polly said quietly.

  Billy kicked the machine again and again as hard as he could. He wanted to punish it, just as he’d wanted to punish those dogs last night for eating his food.

  Polly waited as patiently as she could. Didn’t he understand Robert was trapped down there?

  Finally Billy stopped. “We’re in subzero weather in the middle of nowhere, and Hot Sauce has to make it harder for us!”

  “It’s a simulation. Scott’s motors failed. Ours had to fail, too,” Polly said.

  Grace heard her grandfather sigh and say, “In the ice and snow, life goes quickly from terrible to worse.” She looked up at the darkening sky.

  “I can’t believe how mean she is,” Billy said.

  “I know,” said Polly.

  Billy felt the anger boil inside him. He didn’t know where the camera was, but he glared at it anyway. Secretary of Entertainment. Secretary of Torture. If she were here in Antarctica, he would kill her.

  “Billy, come on,” Polly said.

  “I’ll get Cookie,” Andrew said.

  Grace turned to unload the tent from the sled just in case the weather turned bad.

  Andrew led Cookie to the crevasse. He fastened one end of the rope to her.

  “Robert, we’re going to drop the rope!” Billy called.

  Billy dropped the knotted end of the rope, watching it bounce against the crevasse wall as it fell.

  “You got it?” Billy said.

  “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

  “Pull it over your head, slip it under your arms, and tug it until it’s good and tight!” Polly called.

  “I will.”

  “Let us know when you’re ready,” Polly said.

  In the few minutes that passed, Polly watched absentmindedly as Grace set up the tent. She knew that she should help Grace, but she couldn’t. All she was able to do was stare at the gray sky and crunch her finneskoe in the snow. She tried to think about anything but the crevasse. Or what would happen if they couldn’t pull Robert out.