Geography Reference
In-Depth Information
142
Figure 5.6. (opposite)
Shaded-relief map of the
Queen Maud Mountains
showing the routes taken
by the first parties to the
area. The dashed insets
indicate the locations of
Figs. 5.3 and 6.2.
The dogs had performed spectacularly, and now twenty-four would be put to their
deaths. The ones to be killed and the ones to be spared had all been decided beforehand.
While Amundsen tried to distract himself by preparing the evening meal, each of the
drivers shot the chosen dogs from his team, dressed them out, and fed the entrails to the
voracious survivors. Although they had been looking forward to the addition of canine
cutlets to their diets, that night none of the men had an appetite for dog, in the camp they
called the “Butcher's Shop.”
The plan had been to spend two nights at this campsite, rearranging provisions onto
three sledges, and preparing the dog meat. By the second day the men were ready for their
cut of the flesh. Chef Wisting prepared the soup du jour, a mongrel hash with vegetables
picked from pemmican, and an entrée of fried cutlets that had the men singing for more.
Amundsen ate five. During this rest the surviving dogs also ate themselves full. Stormy
weather caused delay, so by November 25, when the party finally left for the pole, every-
one's hunger had been satisfied.
Sitting out the storm that raged unabated, the men became increasingly restless. By
the fifth day, they all agreed that driving in the storm would be better than being pinned
down, so they marked their depot with Hassel's sledge and a broken ski, and oV they
went into the teeth of the wind. Amundsen revealed himself as he reminisced on this epi-
sode. “When I think of my four friends of the southern journey, it is the memory of that
morning that comes first to my mind. All the qualities that I admire most in a man were
clearly shown at that juncture: courage and dauntlessness, without boasting or big words.
Amid joking and chaV, everything was packed, and then—out into the blizzard.”
The weather for the next two weeks was never good. Occasional clearings would
briefly open, but typically the party was engulfed in either fog or blowing snow. The day
that they left the Butcher's Shop, they put in 11¾ miles and dropped 620 feet. The fol-
lowing day they reached 86° S, 18½ miles farther and an additional 825 feet of descent.
Something wasn't right. The plateau was supposed to rise toward the pole, but here it was
dropping oV. Two days later, November 28, the party hit crevasses and the men decided
to make their next depot, now 140 miles south of the Butcher's Shop. Intent on their true-
south heading, the men pushed into the crevasse field that seemed never to end. With
visibility nil most of the time, the clouds would occasionally part, revealing the danger
that surrounded them. “Devil's Glacier” was the party's unanimous choice in naming this
passage (Fig. 5.6).
On December 1 the ice began to rise, and by the 3rd it seemed that the party had
finally cleared the crevasses, as well as the foul weather, but one last batch of crevasses
forced them to stop that afternoon, while Amundsen and Hanssen scouted a route into
the “Devil's Ballroom.” Negotiating this last obstacle was taxing, with open chasms rid-
dling the field, spawning a number of near catastrophes. In describing the crux where a
narrow bridge crossed a deep divide, Amundsen departs from his usual understatement:
“The crossing of this place reminded me of the tight-rope walker going over Niagara.”
This was the final impediment the party faced. By the end of the day they had truly
reached the plateau, with smooth sailing to the South Pole. During the occasional clear-
ings the previous week, stark mountains had revealed themselves through the mists. On
November 27, when the fog briefly lifted, a pair of long, narrow, snow-clad ridges had
