The Pole by Eric Walters Read Free Book Online

idea,” George said. “How about if we have young Danny here accompany us when we put in at Etah? He could come ashore and meet the Eskimos!”
    Commander Peary turned to me. “Would you like that?”
    â€œI don’t know … the Cap’n might need me aboard ship …”
    â€œI’ll speak to him. I’m sure he can spare you. It would be a wonderful opportunity to explore a Native community … highly educational. Now, first things, first. Do you have anything warmer than the coat you’re wearing now?”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œWe must remedy that. Matthew, take Danny down to the supplies as soon as possible and get him some furs.”
    AUGUST 16, 1908
    I leaned against the railing, looking out on the isolated community. Etah certainly was a great deal different from our last ports. It made Sydney, Nova Scotia, look like New York City.There was a series of haphazardly placed structures—nothing more than stones piled on top of stones, one storey tall. Each one looked about large enough to house a few people in one room.The buildings looked particularly small against the rocky cliffs that rose up behind them. I could make out some movement—tiny people moving between the buildings—and there were three or four plumes of smoke rising up in scattered locations across the settlement.
    There was also a sound, carried by the stiff winds blowing from the land. At first it was so faint that I didn’t even recognize it. Then, as I pulled down my hood, perked my ears, and focused my thoughts, I realized what it was. It was the sound of dogs barking … sledge dogs.
    I pulled my hood back up. It was hard to believe it could be this chilly in the middle of August. Especially since the sun was shining so brightly—and for almost twenty-four hours a day!
    â€œYou ready, Danny?” Commander Peary asked as he came up beside me.
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œLet’s make for the dory.”
    I followed the Commander. A large dory had been lowered into the water and we climbed down a set of stairs to get to it. In the boat already were the Doc, George, Mr. MacMillan—who had asked me to call him Donald—and Mr. Marvin, who I wouldn’t have dreamed of calling anything but “Sir” or “Mister.” Matt was standing at the stern, manning the tiller, and four crewmen—including Keith and Angus— were at the oars ready to row. I was surprised that the Captain wasn’t with us, but I understood he had plenty of things to do aboard ship. I took a seat right up in the bow.
    Lines were cast off and we started rowing. I watched intently as the shore became larger and larger and I could make out more detail. As we got closer, more people began to appear, spilling out of the shelters. They were coming out to see us land. I tried to do a rough count but their growing ranks made that impossible. There had to be at least two hundred or more people standing on the stony beach!
    As we neared the shore, Peary stood up in the boat. He wobbled, and for a split second I thought he was going to tumble over before Matt reached out and offered a hand, steadying him.
    â€œGood afternoon, my fine friends!” the Commander yelled out.
    They waved back, and called out things I couldn’t understand. What I could see was that they seemed really happy to see him—lots of waves and big, bright smiles.
    The boat ran aground on the rocky shallows, and again the Commander almost toppled forward, steadied by both Matt and George this time. Two of the crew jumped out and pulled the dory up and onto the stony shore, beaching it.
    As soon as Commander Peary had climbed out he was mobbed by Natives, who surged forward and offered outstretched hands and greetings. One by one our party piled out of the boat and onto the shore.The crew then hauled the empty dory right up and out of the water, the bottom calling out in noisy protest as the wooden keel