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CHAPTER VII – A Close Shave

The next two weeks were hectic onesfor Pat, the Captain and their two friends, with Pat teaching the boys to fly, the boyslearning to fly, the Captain generally directingall activities, and three of them planningand preparing for their flight to the Adirondacks.Hal couldn’t go. It was with realsorrow that he told them that his motherwould not permit him to go with them. Halwas beginning to enjoy better his flightsinto the air, and his companionship withhis new friends. Pat did not frighten himat all now, and his happiest hours werethose that he spent with him, Bob and CaptainBill. He knew that he would be verylonesome if they went off without him, butno amount of persuasion on his part wouldmove his mother in her determination thathe should not go. She had so many argumentson her side that Hal was completelyfloored when he tried to point out to herthe reasons why it would be perfectly safefor him to go with his friends.

Bob was downcast. He knew that hewould have a good time with Pat and Bill, but he knew too that he’d have a bettertime if someone his own age were along.After all, he couldn’t do anything as wellas Pat and Bill. He couldn’t fly a plane, although he was learning rapidly, and wouldsoon be able to take a solo flight; he couldn’tshoot as accurately as they; nor land amountain trout so well. Hal, who was alsoa novice, would have been just as inexpertas he was at all these things, and wouldhave made him feel not quite so stupid. Andthen there were always things to talk aboutto Hal that the others wouldn’t be able tounderstand – in fact, Hal and he spoke alanguage of their own. It would have beenfun if Hal could have come along – but ifhe couldn’t go, he couldn’t go. Bobdecided that he’d better take the matter philosophically.So he joined in the plans ofthe Captain and Pat with all his usual energy.Hal helped, too, Even if he was notgoing with them, he wanted to get the thrillat least of being in on the start.

They were all down at the airport everyday, rain or shine. Pat gave them a goodbackground of ground work, and then letthem fly with him. Bob, with his naturalquickness, could have flown solo almost afterhis first flight, but Pat would not take theresponsibility of letting the boy go up alone.

Hal, on the other hand, had more obstaclesto overcome. The first was the terrorthat he had felt on his first flight. However, after repeated flights, and the feeling ofpower that he gained from actually havingthe controls in his hands, he overcame hisfear enough to fly with Pat, and fly well.

Two days before their departure for themountains, Pat and Bill decided that theboys ought to make their solo flights, sothat Hal would have made a solo flight beforethey left him.

Pat had taken the Marianne up into theair, had “taken a look about,” andlanded her again. He turned to the two boysand asked, “who’s first?”

“Me,” said Bob.

“All right,” said Pat, and Bob climbedinto the cockpit smiling confidently.

“See you soon,” called Bob, and waveda hand in farewell. He taxied the plane outover the runway, turned her nose into thewind, and felt her rise from the ground.He felt a thrill of power as the machineresponded to the slightest movement ofthe stick. He had control of all the boundlessenergy stored in that motor, and coulddirect this huge craft in any direction hechose. He felt the blast of wind againsthis face. He was off the ground now, flyinglow, just clearing a small tool house.He pointed the nose of the Marianne up andclimbed slowly, then leveled off again. Hisinstruments showed that he was flying atabout a thousand feet up. The motor soundedgood. The air was smooth. Bob felta keen exhilaration. He wanted to shout intriumph. At last he was flying a plane, alone.

Again he pointed the nose up into the air, and climbed to about 5,000 feet. The skywas clear and cloudless. He lost all trackof time and space. He seemed to be by himselfin the universe. But he knew that hewasn’t. The others would be expecting himback. Reluctantly he banked and turnedaround, and headed once more for the airport.He throttled down the motor andglided swiftly to earth. He saw the grassbelow turn green as he approached it; heleveled off. In his excitement, he kept thetail of the plane a little too high, his frontwheels landed too soon, and he felt for abreath-taking moment that he was goingover on his nose. But the Marianne rightedherself, and taxied docilely along the ground.

Bob jumped out, pushing back his goggles.“How was that?” he shouted to Pat andBill, who came running up to him.

Pat glowered. “What a landing!” he said,in disgust. “Young man, is that the sort oflanding I taught you?”

Bob’s smile faded, and he looked crestfallen.“I didn’t level off,” he said.

“Of course you didn’t. A blind mancould tell you that.” Then Pat’s voice suddenlychanged. “But you handled her likea veteran,” he said. “You’ve got the makingsof an ace in you, lad.”

Bob’s ready grin spread quickly over hisface again. “Did I really?” he cried. “Bill, what did you think?” He was perfectlywilling to hear himself praised, now thathe was sure that his performance has beengood.

“Oh, you’re all right,” said Bill grudgingly.“How about Hal? It’s his turnnow.” He turned to Hal. “You show thisyoung fellow how to make a three pointlanding,” he said, and gave Hal a little clapon the shoulder.

Hal came forward. He was unusuallysilent, and his face was pale. He had struggledwith his fear and he felt that he hadconquered it. He had come to have confidencein his handling of the Marianne withPat or Bill in the other cockpit, ready totake the controls if anything went wrong.Now he would have confidence taking herup alone. He set his jaw grimly and gotinto the cockpit. The motor was warm, andsounded good. Hal took the Marianne intothe air with a grace that made Pat and Billlook at each other with surprise and congratulation.

“The kid’s got the stuff, all right,” saidBill. “I knew he had. Who said he didn’thave nerve?”

“He’s better for it, too,” said Pat. “It’sdone him good, all right.” They watched theplane climbing into the cloudless skies. Thensuddenly the sound of the motor ceased.“Good grief,” cried Pat. The others weretoo horrified even to cry out. They sawthe plane stall, then fall nose down, spiralingas it went.

When he heard the motor conk, Hal’sheart stood still. He tried the stick frantically.The rudder, the ailerons, would notrespond. The throttle brought no answeringroar of power. The Marianne had becomesuddenly a mad thing, an enemy, benton his destruction. She side-slipped, hernose dipped down, an she went into atailspin.

Hal was frantic. His first impulse was topull up on the stick, in order to bring upthe tail. Then some glint of reason camethrough his terror, and he remembered Pat’swarning that this was the last thing heshould do to pull himself up. But whathad Pat said? He couldn’t remember. Thensuddenly it came to him. Push forward onyour stick! With an effort he made himselfpush forward. The Marianne gave a convulsiveshudder. But the action had takenher out of her spin. With a feeling of unutterablerelief Hal felt her come out of herspin and go into a glide. He looked overthe side of the plane. He was rushing towarda brick building, at the furthest endof the airport! There was nothing to donow but crash. He was too close to stretchout the glide!

With a last desperate movement, Halopened the throttle of his engine. The motorcaught! With a thrill of joy he heard theroar of the motor as it started again, andfelt the stick respond to his touch. He pulledback the stick, the nose of the plane lifted, and he zoomed into the air.

Down on the ground Pat, Bill and Bobhad gone through the tortures of the damned, watching Hal fall to what seemed certaindeath, while they stood helplessly below.When they saw him zoom once more intothe air, their hearts bounded with him.

“The gas-line must have been clogged!”shouted Pat. “It cleared itself out whenthey dived!”

“Thank God,” said Bill.

Bob could say nothing, but kept shoutingHal, Hal, Hal, over and over again. Halwas gliding in, now, to land.

He got out of the cockpit, white and shaking.The others, beside themselves with joy, surrounded him, shaking his hand, hugginghim, patting his shoulder. But Hal did notseem to notice what was happening.

“You handled that plane like Lindbergh!”shouted Pat. “Good boy.”

But all that Hal said was, “I’m nevergoing up again.”

Pat had gone over to the plane to lookit over. “It seems all right,” he said, turningoff the motor that he had tested. “Butthere must have been a bit of dirt in theline leading from the gas tank. You hada lucky escape, lad. It was quick thinkingthat you did up there. I’m proud of you.”

But Captain Bill saw that Hal was inno mood for praise. He knew, too, thatthe best cure for the boy was to take himright up again into the air, so that hewould have no time to develop a phobiaagainst going up. But he would not risktaking up the Marianne until it had had athorough overhauling.

The Captain put his arm around Hal’sshoulder. “You mustn’t say that you’renever going up again, Hal, old man,” hesaid. “You proved yourself up there. You’regoing to make a great flyer.”

“It was great, Hal, great,” said Bob. “Iwould have crashed the old bus and killedmyself. I couldn’t have kept my head.”

Hal said nothing except that he wantedto go home. Pat stayed behind with theplane while the other three went over tothe parking lot to get their machine. “Don’tsay anything to my mother, whatever youdo,” said Hal. “I don’t want her to worry.After all, nothing really happened to me, and why should she be frightened for nothing?”

Bob and the Captain promised to saynothing. In fact, they spoke very little onthe way home. Hal was worn outemotionally and the others were occupied with theirown thoughts.

The Captain was worried by the newturn that affairs had taken. He was disappointedthat all the progress that had beenmade in Hal’s education had been ruinedon the first solo flight. It would have beenall right if he had been able to take Halinto the air again, but he couldn’t. Tomorrowthey would be too busy with their preparationsto do any flying, and the day afterthat, they would start for the Adirondacks, leaving Hal behind. Without his friends, and with the memory of his terror fresh inhis mind, Hal would fall back into his oldfears, and be actually worse off than ever.The time to cure Hal was at once, if at all.

Captain Bill had an idea. He thoughtabout it rather carefully most of the wayhome, and when they were almost home, hebroached his plan. “Say, Hal, how aboutcoming over tonight – with your mother?I’m going to tell my story after dinner, tonight, and I thought maybe she’d like tohear it.”

Hal was rather surprised. His motherrarely visited, and did not see very much ofthe Martins. In fact, she had been to theMartins only twice since they had been neighbors, and one of those visits had been to returnMrs. Martin’s formal call upon her newneighbor when the Greggs had moved intothe house next door. But Hal said, “Why,I’ll ask Mother. I don’t think she’s busy, and I guess she’d like to hear your story,Captain Bill. I’ve been telling her aboutthe stories, you know.”

“Good,” laughed the Captain. “Don’ttell her too much, though. I want her tocome to hear them.”

“I think she’ll like to come,” said Hal.Thinking it over, he felt convinced that hismother should hear Captain Bill’s storythat night. He knew she would enjoy theevening with them all. They were a jollylot, and Mrs. Martin often was lonesomewhen Hal went off and left her alone. Shewould be better for a night of company.And perhaps – well, Hal could not dare tohope – perhaps she would approve more ofhis going on a trip with these men if sheknew how splendid they were. But thenHal shuddered. They were going to fly tothe mountains. And he was never going tofly in a plane again. He felt that he wouldrather do anything in the world than puthimself in a position again where he mightexperience the awful horror of feeling himselfgoing into a nose dive.

They let Hal off at his home. When Boband the Captain were alone, Bob asked whyBill had thought of inviting Hal’s motherto hear his story that night.

“Why, Mrs. Gregg’s a nice woman. Don’tyou think that I should have invited her?”asked the Captain, with a twinkle.

“Oh, but you must have some other reason,”said Bob. “You don’t want her tocome over just because you want an audiencefor your story.”

“Well, to tell the truth,” the Captain answered,“I have a motive. Can I counton you to help me?”

“If it’s not murder,” said Bob.

“Nothing like it,” the Captain said. “Thisis my plan, Bob. You know that we wantHal to come along with us on our trip, nowmore than at any other time. If we leavehim now, all the good that flying and beingwith us has done him will be wasted, andHal will be the same fraid-cat that he wasbefore we began to educate him. Now, I’mgoing to tell the story of Byrd tonight. Byrdstarted on his adventures when he was veryyoung. He had a brave mother, who sawthat following his own inclinations was goodfor her son. That much is for Mrs. Gregg.Second – Byrd had to overcome a great manyobstacles before he reached his goal. Thatpart is for young Hal. Now, if the Greggfamily takes my story seriously tonight, Ithink that we may have Hal with us onour flight. And Hal will be a new boy.How about it?”

Bob looked admiringly at his uncle. “Gee,”he said, “that’s a great idea. But I thinkthat you’ll have to tell a pretty convincingstory.”

“Don’t you think that I can?”

“Golly, I’m not going to worry aboutthat,” said Bob. “I’m sure you can.”

When they got in, they found Mrs. Martinsewing, and lost no time in telling herfirst the events of the day, and second, theirplans for the evening.

“But why didn’t you invite her to dinner?”asked Mrs. Martin. “I’m sure we’denjoy having them with us.”

“I didn’t think of that,” said the Captain,“or rather, I thought that I was takingenough liberty in just inviting somebody toyour home for the evening.”

“I’ll call her,” said Mrs. Martin firmly. Afar away look came into her eyes. “Youknow,” she said, “I think that I shall dosome talking to Mrs. Gregg myself, I havesome things to tell her about raising herown son. I suppose she will resent it, butI shall at least have the satisfaction of gettingit off my chest, and perhaps of helpingpoor Hal.”

“Hal’s the one I’m interested in,” said theCaptain. “He acted like a real hero in thatplane today. Kept his head, and saved himselfand the plane. He’s got the stuff, allright, and he can handle a plane.”

“I’m with you, Captain,” said Bob. “Andwith you and Mom on the job, I don’t seehow anybody can possibly get away withanything. You two could convince anybodyof anything.”

His mother looked at him speculatively.“Can I convince you right now that youought to go up and wash? Believe me, youngman, you can’t get away with looking thatdirty, if that’s what you mean.”

Grinning sheepishly, Bob went out of theroom. “You win,” he called. “And I’mbetting on you tonight, too.”

CHAPTER VIII – North Pole and South

Dinner was a jolly affair. Everybody wasin excellent humor. Hal had quite recoveredfrom his afternoon’s experience; Pathad succeeded in getting the Marianne intoperfect shape; Bill looked forward to hisevening’s plans with relish; and Bob washappy just on general principles, anticipatinga great evening, and because he was usuallyhappy. Mrs. Gregg, who often becamelonely by herself, was glad of being in suchpleasant company.

They went into the garden after dinner, and the Captain, after filling up his ever-presentpipe, began his story.

“Well,” he said, “there’s only one wayto begin the story of anybody’s life. That’sby telling when he was born, because afterall, that’s the first thing that happens to aman, isn’t it? Well, Admiral Richard EvelynByrd was born on October 25, 1888, inWinchester, Virginia, where there had beenByrds ever since anybody could remember.In fact, the first Byrd settled in Americaabout 1690, and the name has been a prominentand honored one ever since. Therewere Byrds fighting in the Revolution andin the Civil War, so it wasn’t from nowherethat our Richard Evelyn got his courage andgrit that carried him through the dangersof being the first man to cross both the Northand the South poles in a plane.

“He had a grandmother, too, who gavehim a goodly supply of what it takes todo great deeds. That was Jane Byrd, whowas the sort of person around whom legendsspring up, and are carried down from generationto generation. In fact, one of themwas a famous story of her killing of a hugeblacksnake. It was during the Civil War.Her husband and her brother were both fightingfor the Confederacy, and Jane Byrd wasleft alone to manage the great plantationand farm. And manage it she did. Oneday she went to gather the eggs in the chickenhouse, and found a great blacksnake hadswallowed twelve prized guinea eggs thathad been set under a setting hen. She clubbedthe snake to death with a club, takingcare not to strike the twelve bumps thatshowed all down its body the places wherethe twelve guinea eggs reposed. Then shecut the snake open and took out the eggsand put them back under the hen, withouta bit of fuss or excitement. She took seriouslythe charge that she must take care of theestate while her men were away fighting.

“Richard Byrd couldn’t have had betterancestors to back him up in his adventures, but every ounce of courage, every bit ofperseverance that he inherited, he needed. Hewas a man who met with hundreds of disappointments, and innumerable obstacles incarrying out the plans that meant so muchto him and to the world. But he was neverdowned by them. Set-backs that would havemade other men, men of lesser caliber turnfrom their paths and give up their plans, were just so much more of a spur to him.

“Dick Byrd was never a robust man. Hehad the physical handicap of a bad ankle toovercome, and his general build has alwaysbeen slight. He is not the huge, strappinghero of story-book fame; he was the littleNapoleon with a great determination thatoutweighed any physical weakness. A mandoesn’t have to be big to get places. A littlefellow, if he wants to badly enough, canaccomplish a lot.

“And Dick Byrd certainly wanted badlyto go to the Pole. Even when he was a kidin school, it was his ambition to be the firstman to reach the North Pole. Somebodybeat him to it. Peary got there first, but ittook him a long time, and he had to go onfoot. Byrd flew, and accomplished in a fewhours what had taken days and weeks todo before.

“Not only did he want to go to the Pole – hewanted to go to all sorts of places, and he did, too. Before he was fourteenyears old, Richard Byrd traveled alonearound the world! That took nerve. Andnot only nerve on Richard Byrd’s part, buton the part of his mother! The trip wasn’ta regular round-the-world tour that anybodycan make today on a boat that’s like a littlepalace, but it was a rough, adventurousvoyage on an army transport, and a Britishtramp.

“It was like this. You see, Dick hadstruck up a friendship with Captain KitCarson. After the Spanish American War,Carson went to the Philippines as a CircuitCourt Judge. But he didn’t forget his friendDick. They exchanged letters. In one letterthe Captain mentioned that it would bea fine idea if Dick Byrd came down to thePhilippines to see the exciting time that theywere having down there. Dick took him upon the idea, and made plans to go. At firsthis mother was horrified at the idea, sinceDick was not a strong boy. But with unusualintelligence, she decided to let him go, since the trip would be an educational one, and would do the boy more good than anypossible harm that could come to him. Thevery fact that he wanted so badly to go, and planned his trip so carefully, made herfeel that he had reached an age where hemust be allowed to decide for himself. Thiswas a very wise decision on her part, sinceit was probably this trip, with its adventuresin self-reliance that made Richard intothe successful adventurer that he is.”

“The trip to Manila was made exciting bya typhoon that stuck the transport – somethingthat the boy would not have wantedto miss, although the Captain of the transportcould have done very well without it – hesaid it was the worst that he’d ever beenthrough.

“They got to Manila, though, safe andsound, and Dick was greeted by his friendCarson. Manila was intensely amusing fora boy of fourteen. Amusing, and mightyexciting. The excitement included a lonecombat with a gang of angry rebels armedwith knives – from which the young Dickescaped only by the fleetness of his pony’sheels. That’s the sort of adventure youngboys dream of, and that’s the sort theyshould have to look back on, if they are tolive the full sort of life that Richard Byrddid.

“From Manila, Dick went visiting to DarimIsland. On the island the cholera plaguewas raging, and Dick got exposed to the disease.They put him into quarantine. Hedidn’t get the cholera, but all around himmen were dying in terrible agony. Finallythe doctor managed to get Dick to theseaport, and he got a boat for Manila. Theywere glad to see him back, and he was gladto be back.

“After Manila, Dick went on his merryway around the world by way of Ceylonand the Red Sea to Port Said, where he reshippedfor the last lap of his cruise. It was awonderful trip for a boy, and there’s nodoubt that it had a great influence on allthat he did later.

“When Richard got back, and had settleddown more or less, his parents decided thathe should go to Virginia Military Institute.He was popular at the Institute, as he waspopular wherever he went, for his spirit – thatold spirit that carried him around theworld, and later across both of the earth’spoles. It was the same spirit that made himtry out for the football team at V.M.I. – andcarried him to the position of end onthe first team. It was at that time that anincident occurred which was to be very significantin his later life. In one game of theseason he broke his ankle. This was notimportant in itself – but it happened to bethe first break of an ankle that was going tobother Dick again and again – and almostat one time defeat him entirely.

“But I’m getting ahead of my story. Afterbeing graduated from the Military Institute,Dick Byrd went quite naturally to Annapolis.He entered in 1908. He carriedhis popularity and his success with him tothis place. His grades were not of the highest, but he excelled in athletics, going outfor football again, besides track, boxing, andwrestling.

“In his last year at Annapolis, Dick’s anklemade itself felt again. Dick was Captainof his gym squad, which was competing inthe big exhibition of the year. Dick, asCaptain, wanted to make a spectacular showing, and cinch the meet for his team. Todo this, he invented an intricate, complicatedseries of tricks on the bars, calculated tostir up the most lethargic members of theaudience. It would have been a great trick – ifit had succeeded – but it didn’t. Dickslipped, somehow, and his hands failed toconnect with the bars. Down he went – onthe same ankle, breaking it once more.

“In 1912 he got his commission, and becamean ensign. And he also began toformulate plans for his great adventures. Connectedwith the Navy – there was no tellingwhat opportunity for adventure would cometo him. But he reckoned without his ankle.It gave way a third time – this time whilehe was going down a gangway, so that hewas pitched headfirst down. They tried tofix up the ankle – in fact, they joined thebones together with a silver nail. That is,Byrd thought that they had used a silver nail – andwhen he discovered that just a plain, ordinary nail had been used, he felt verymuch deflated. Nail and all, Byrd walkedwith a limp, and an ensign with a limp wasjust useless, so far as the Navy was concerned.So Byrd was retired.

“That must have been an awful blow tohim. Not only was the only career open tohim cut short, but he had been married theyear before, to Marie Ames, a childhoodsweetheart from Winchester. So that his retirementaffected not just himself, but anotheras well.

“It might have floored a lesser man. Butnot Dick Byrd. In 1917 the United Stateswent into the World War, And Byrd, whohad been rejected by the Navy, and whodoubtless could not have found a place inthe army, decided to go into the branch ofthe service that wouldn’t ask questions abouthis bad leg – because it didn’t matter whetherhe had a bad leg or not – in aviation. Soto aviation he turned.

“He entered the Naval flying school atPensacola, Florida. It was a lucky day forByrd and for aviation that he took to theair. It seems that the air was where he belonged.He was a Byrd by birth, and mighthave been born with wings, for the ease withwhich he took to flying.

“He became assistant superintendent of theschool, and was on the commission to investigateaccidents. There were a lot of them, then. The planes were not so highly developedas they are now – and the greenyoungsters who were entering the servicecould not handle them. You can imaginehow horrible it was to see some friend’s planecome crashing down into the ocean, andhave to be the first to go out in the rescueboat, in order to do what was possible torescue him, and to discover what had causedthe accident. A warning from the observationtower – somebody was in tailspin. Adeafening crash! And the rescue boat wouldbe put out before the waves from the greatsplash had subsided. At this work Byrdlearned that more than half of the accidentscould have been avoided with care – eitherin inspecting the machine before going up,or in handling it up in the air.

“Dick Byrd was just too good. That washis tough luck at this point in his career.He was too good to be sent over to France, where he wanted to go. He was sent insteadto Canada, where he was chief of the Americanair forces in Canada. At this job, aswell as at any other that he undertook, Byrdacquitted himself admirably. And eventhough he chafed at being kept in America,he did his job well.

“But his mind was soaring across theocean. As early as 1917 Byrd wanted to flythe Atlantic. But there was always somethingthat interfered. After the war, he petitionedthe Navy again about a cross-Atlanticvoyage, and was given permission to goover to England and sail the ZR-2 back toAmerica. How tragically this may have endedfor Byrd you can see. The ZR-2, on atrial flight suddenly burst into flames andcrashed into the Humber river. Forty-fourof the passengers were killed, among themfriends of Byrd. It was Richard Byrd’s taskto investigate the wreck that might very easilyhave claimed him for one of its victims.

“In 1924 his hopes seemed about to berealized at last. He was assigned to the dirigibleShenandoah, and was to fly it acrossAlaska and the North Pole. But the Shenandoah, too, met with disaster, and Byrd’shopes were again dashed. The Navy rejectedhis petition to go with Amundsen onthe trip that he planned over the Pole, andall hope seemed gone. In fact, as a finalblow, Byrd was retired from the aviationservice altogether.

“But he was as undaunted by this setbackas he had been by his retirement fromthe Navy. He set about immediately to organizehis own Polar expedition, which wasto be climaxed by his flight over the Polein 1926.

“Floyd Bennett, whom Byrd often saidwas the best man in the world to fly with, helped him plan his expedition which wasto be the realization of all his boyhooddreams and visions. It wasn’t easy to plan, and the foresighted planning, they knew, would mean the success or failure of theirproject.

“They chose a three-motored Fokker monoplane, with 200 horsepower Wright air-cooledmotors. It was 42 feet 9 inches long, with a wing spread of over 63 feet. It wascapable of a high speed of 120 miles an hour.

“That was the plane, the Josephine Ford.Their ship was the Chantier, given him bythe Shipping Board. The crew was madeup of picked men, and Byrd knows how topick them. Not one of them failed to liveup to his expectations on that trip.

“On April 5, 1926, all of the plans beingcompleted, and the last supplies of foodto last fifty men for six months being stowedaway, the Chantier sailed from New Yorkfor King’s Bay, Spitzbergen. They got thereon April 29th, after an uneventful trip, andanchored in the Bay. But the problem ofgetting the plane to shore arose. They solvedit by building a huge raft, loading the heavyship onto it, and towing it to shore throughthe choppy, ice-blocked water.

“When they got the plane onto the shore, the wheels sank into the snow, and they hadto replace them with skis, which seemed ampleto sustain the weight of even that greatcraft. How frail they really were was to beproved later.

“Byrd and his men set up camp, andprepared for the take-off to the Pole. Theyhad to work fast. The Amundsen-Ellsworth-NobileExpedition with its dirigiblethe Norge was well on its way with its preparations, and while there was no bitter rivalrybetween the two expeditions, neverthelessthe distinction of being the first to fly overthe Pole was one not to be sneezed at.Everybody worked – eighteen hours a day, with meals taken on the run. And nobodythought to complain – the morale neverbroke once. That’s the sort of man Byrdpicks to take with him – and that’s the sortof respect they have for a man who choosesthem. Byrd’s a leader. No matter wherehe has come in contact with men, he haswon their love and respect, and has gotmore work out of them by his kindness andgentleness than anybody else could have byslave-driving. They worked for Byrd becausethey liked to, not because they had to.He imbued them with his spirit of adventure,so that every man of them was determinedthat his expedition should be successful, andthat Byrd should be the first man to flyacross the Pole.

“One of the hardest jobs of all was packingdown the snow into a hard, smooth runwayfor taking off. They had to take offgoing down hill, since there was no levelstretch of snow for their start, and this hillhad to be smoothed and leveled. The firstattempt at a take-off was disastrous. Theplane landed in a snowdrift, with a brokenski. The carpenters worked for two daysand nights to make new skis, and the shipwas ready for its second attempt.