Frederick Cook on top of the continent. We return McKinley to the great American. Reckless venture Travel and expeditions

An amazing thing: Russian polar explorer Dmitry Shparo undertook to rehabilitate his American colleague Frederick Cook. His people have accused him of lying for more than a century, and ours has restored justice. But first things first.

The publishing house "Mann, Ivanov and Ferber" published a book by Dmitry Shparo "Frederick Cook on top of the continent. Returning McKinley to the great American." The author worked on it for 14 years. "I'm trying, I want, I really hope to return an honest name to Frederick Cook, MD. Dr. Cook is the man who discovered the North Pole. He is my fellow North Pole," says Shparo. But we're getting ahead of ourselves again.

McKinley, if anyone has forgotten, is the highest peak in North America, a two-headed mountain in Alaska. About a thousand people storm this peak every year, but only half of the daredevils succumb to it. For the first time, Dr. Frederick Cook and his companion Edward Burrill had a chance to look at the beauty of the North American continent from its highest point on September 16, 1906. However, not everyone shared this joy of the pioneers. Two years later, in 1908, Cook conquered the North Pole, but, alas, any intelligent and friendly clever woman, as the author characterizes the doctor, will have not only and even not so much friends, but also enemies. His rival, wealthy Robert Peary, accused Cook of falsifying not only the polar journey, but also mountain climbing ... Peary, of course, attributed the conquest of the North Pole to himself. And if only Peary wanted to take away the victory from Cook, but no - entire organizations were imprisoned for this. After all, money matters a lot. But, fortunately, not all.

How did Frederick Cook become the "Prince of Liars" (that's how he titled his autobiographical article, written at the end of his life). The real investigation was conducted by Dmitry Shparo, scrupulously studying all the details of the Cook case, analyzing a huge amount of archival materials, from diaries to photographs, entering into correspondence with the relatives of the American traveler.

Frankly, the book is read as an action-packed detective story and in the same breath. Shparo's reasoning and statements are interspersed with the diaries of Cooke, Burrill, excerpts from opponents' speeches, letters, journalistic materials and many other documents. In addition, the book is full of illustrative series, many of the photographs were taken by Frederic Cook himself. You can only look at them for a few minutes.

At some point, it begins to seem that a little more and Cook's primacy will be proved, but - it was not there. Either opponents have new evidence of the "lies" of the conqueror McKinley, or travelers trying to reproduce the exact route that Cook followed, fail. In addition, it doesn’t fit in my head how his friends and relatives, who undoubtedly wanted to achieve justice, were sometimes so inattentive to details ... The reader is constantly in nervous tension and, despite the fact that the denouement is already clear from the title of the book, worrying about the main character, sometimes, it seems, he is ready to believe that Cook really did not set foot on the top of McKinley. Especially when it comes to the main photo fact. But I won't spoil it, as they say. Let me just say that when the dramatic denouement comes, when everything starts to take shape in Cook's favor, one really wants to exclaim: "Oh yes Cook! Oh yes you son of a bitch!"

No wonder Shparo writes that Dr. Frederick Albert's path to the top was "impeccably logical and infinitely bold." And the traveler himself, according to the author, "is an example of loyalty to a dream, duty and his profession as a doctor. He is fearless, resolute, he was a very good comrade. He withstood the most dangerous battles with the forces of nature and under the pressure of dishonesty, injustice and betrayal."

By the way, reading the diaries of a polar climber is a separate pleasure. These are not just notes, but wonderful travel notes. "We slowly moved up the steep snowy rise above the granites under the sky to the top. Finally! The task that inspired us was crowned with victory; the top of the continent was under our feet. We shook hands, but did not utter a word. We wanted to scream, but did not have the strength for an extra breath."

By the way, it is worth noting that it was the Russian travelers - Viktor Afanasiev and Oleg Banar - who in 2006 for the first time exactly repeated the path of Frederick Cook to the top of McKinley.

"Much should change after the recognition of Cook's victory over Denali (the new name of Mount McKinley): the descendants of the hero will finally be able to be proud of him in peace; the corrected popular table of records recorded at McKinley will not mislead thousands of people who want to prove themselves in the mountains of Alaska, Americans, in all likelihood, someday will return their love to a great compatriot.And perhaps the triumph of justice in the story of Dr. Cook will inspire today's sufferers who lose out in new times and under new circumstances to the corporate power of power and money ", - writes Shparo.

Well, it's time to rewrite encyclopedias and textbooks: McKinley succumbed to the fearless and true to his dream Frederick Cooke. And all the evidence for this is in the book of Dmitry Igorevich. In a very restrained book. Without emotions, but with obvious love for the main character. Written interestingly and with a great desire to rehabilitate his own, as Dmitry Shparo himself admits, an idol. After all, they have "a common attachment to the polar latitudes."

However, these claims were soon disputed, and for a long time Cook was accused of hoaxes and lies.

Dmitry Shparo, the famous traveler who was the first in the world to reach the North Pole on skis, proves in this book that Frederick Cook actually climbed McKinley. This study fundamentally changes a lot in the history of the conquest of the North American continent.

The book is addressed to everyone who is interested in travel, history in general and the annals of geographical discoveries in particular.

On our site you can download the book "Frederick Cook on Top of the Continent. Returning McKinley to the Great American" by Dmitry Shparo for free and without registration in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format, read the book online or buy the book in the online store.

Until now, it is generally accepted that R. Piri was the first to reach the North Pole, who then accused Cook of deceit. For more than a century, Cook remained in the eyes of the whole world a liar, and because of this, his previous achievements were also questioned.

Dmitry Shparo is a famous traveler who was the first in the world to reach the North Pole on skis, makes a discovery in the field of Earth exploration and restores historical justice. Such discoveries are rare today. In order to understand how serious this discovery is in the history of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, it is worth imagining that suddenly there will be data on landing on the moon not by Americans, but, say, by Soviet cosmonauts.

The work of Dmitry Shparo was appreciated by American researchers and noted by the honorary president of the Russian Geographical Society, Academician Vladimir Kotlyakov.

Review by the Honorary President of the Russian Geographical Society Vladimir Kotlyakov

A wonderful book. I believe that the significance of the book is very great - it tells about the famous, world-famous competition between two outstanding polar explorers, about the inglorious struggle of the supporters of R. Pirie with Frederick Cook, about human weaknesses and the strength of mind of outstanding people. The book, if it does not put a final point, then brings us closer to the statement of truth in the first ascent of McKinley.

The book will be of interest to many readers: lovers of travel, adventures in extreme conditions of the polar countries and high mountains, not only in Russia, but also in other countries.

The book is written very brightly, all the quotations from the diaries and literary publications of the heroes of the story are appropriate, the text is built logically, has a detective character. In general, the book will be read with interest and, perhaps, even in one gulp.

Who is this book for?

This is a book for anyone interested in travel, history in general and the history of discovery in particular.

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Dmitry Shparo
Frederick Cook on top of the continent. Returning McKinley to the Great American

Legal support for the publishing house is provided by Vegas Lex law firm.

* * *

Foreword

The history of research into the Earth's polar regions is rich in dramatic events, peaking at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries. At that time, little was known about the Far North and the Far South of our planet, and the inquisitive human mind was eager to learn more about these areas. In addition, new technical means appeared that contributed to research, and experience of polar travel was accumulated.

Especially the polar passions were turned to the discovery of new lands and the achievement of the North and South Poles - visible, but hard-to-reach places on the planet. However, there were other “high-altitude” poles on Earth, that is, mountains. Among them is the highest point of the North American continent - Big Mountain, or Tenada (later McKinley), marked in 1839 on a map of the then Russian Alaska. Serious disputes arose over the primacy in its conquest.

The main hero of the events was Frederick Albert Cook, MD, a pioneer of polar expeditions and ascents. However, in a fierce struggle, his achievements were called into question, and then completely erased from the pages of history. In his book, Dmitry Shparo, scrupulously analyzing the surviving materials of the expeditions of Frederick Cook and the controversy that arose later, restores justice and proves that Cook was the first on the top of Mount McKinley.

On the basis of documentary sources, the author creates the image of Dr. Cook - a calm, reasonable person with vast experience as a polar explorer and an outstanding climber, and most importantly, the ability to act correctly in the most adverse situations. Under no circumstances can he be accused of recklessness. He is reasonably prudent. His expeditions always have everything you need, and there is nothing superfluous in them. He strives forward without making "excessive movements", which saves time and ultimately leads to success.

The author of the book notes and proves with all his narrative the fearlessness of Cook and his amazing composure, speaks of medical talent and exceptional expeditionary ingenuity, more than once noted by Robert Peary and Roald Amundsen, with whom Cook went through a huge polar school in his youth.

Cook approached the foot of McKinley as an experienced and inquisitive explorer. Having shown amazing perseverance in achieving the goal, after the first unsuccessful assault on the mountain in 1903, he made a new attempt in the summer of 1906, did not give up after an unsuccessful summer campaign and resumed the ascent in the autumn of that year. This third attempt was successful.

In 1909, after it became known that Frederick Cook had reached the North Pole, a year ahead of Robert Peary, it became necessary for Peary's friends to discredit Cook, and as the beginning of an attack on his integrity, the first ascent of McKinley was declared a lie. Say, it is impossible so quickly - in eight days - to climb the mountain and in just four days to go down from it. Undoubtedly, Cook was lucky with the weather, but the main thing was in something else - in his experience, intuition, composure and determination.

In the first part of the book, based on the original diaries and materials published after the ascent, Dmitry Shparo consistently talks about all the ups and downs of the ascent of McKinley in 1903 and 1906, and in the second part, as part of the controversy that arose with Piri's supporters, he provides convincing evidence that Frederick Cook was right. .

The book also speaks of the noble mission of Cook's daughter, who organized a special expedition to search for evidence of the correctness of her father, and of the Russian expeditions to McKinley, which proved the possibility of Cook reaching the summit in the fall of 1906 and thus made an important contribution to restoring his honorable name.

The drawings of Cook and his companions, maps and photographs of Cook and his followers given in the book serve as additional arguments in favor of the achievements of Frederick Cook and help correct the mistakes he made.

In my youth, I lived for six months in a polar tent on a glacier in the northernmost part of the Northern Island of Novaya Zemlya, spent two winters at an altitude of 3700 meters at an ice base on Elbrus, and then, already in my mature years, I lived in a small Pamir for three days and worked at an altitude 5100 meters above sea level on the Akbaital glacier in the Eastern Pamirs. So I understand everything described in Cook's diary, and I am perfectly aware of how he managed to achieve his cherished goal.

I have no doubt about the correctness and sincerity of Frederick Cook, and the main argument for me is the accuracy and detail of descriptions of nature in his field diaries, articles and books. Such notes cannot be written after the fact, they can only be left after directly experiencing the trip. It is very important that Cook talks in detail about natural phenomena, at that time still unknown to science. And this characterizes him in the most positive way, unlike Piri. Cook's diaries reveal the image of an inquisitive man, a scientist, while Peary gives the impression not of a researcher, but of an athlete rushing to set a record.

It is necessary to restore justice and recognize Frederick Cook as the first climber on McKinley. He has brought as much glory to the United States as Robert Peary, and certainly should be among America's most famous heroes. Cook's homeland could be proud of its citizen and pay tribute to him on a geographical map.

Dmitry Shparo's book is an important and timely contribution to polar geographical literature.

This story testifies to the strength of the human spirit, its extraordinary possibilities and, at the same time, human weaknesses, envy and betrayal.

Scientific Director of the Institute of Geography of the Russian Academy of Sciences,

Honorary President of the Russian Geographical Society,

Academician V. M. Kotlyakov

Introduction

In this book, we are restoring the truth: first on Mount McKinley 1
In 2015, Mount McKinley (6194 meters high) was renamed Denali - its local name. Note. ed.

September 16, 1906 was Frederick Cooke. The same famous American polar explorer who discovered the North Pole on April 21, 1908.

For more than a hundred years, the pedestal of the conqueror of the highest point of the North American continent was occupied by the Reverend Hudson Stack, who climbed McKinley in 1913.

We return the prize to Frederick Cook and move to second place the respected Stack, who used to say: “Climbing this mountain is preferable for me than discover the richest gold deposit in Alaska" (52).

Serious fix! But the point is not only in the history of a geographical object. We are rehabilitating an innocent man, Frederick Albert Cook, M.D. Remember the words of Boris Pasternak: “And the noise of the chase after me”? The noise of the chase was also heard by the sufferer Cook; by the way, the best author in the world polar literature.

Already in 1909, Cook was called a liar, then presented as crazy and put in jail. He died in poverty in 1940. The main offender, or rather, the persecutor of Dr. Cook, was the famous Commander Robert Peary. Having given half his life to the conquest of the North Pole, Piri finally reached it. 2
Today, many, including the author, believe that Piri was not at the North Pole. (Hereinafter, notes by Dmitry Shparo, except where noted.)

But, as it turned out, the second - after Cook, who had been on top of the world a year earlier. This "injustice" was unacceptable to Peary, and after a telegram from the Arctic, saying that the stars and stripes were driven into the pole, he sent another one, where he categorically stated: do not believe Cook - he is just fooling the public. The wealthy and influential Piri Arctic Club was mobilized for massive action against Dr. Cook.

The commander's henchmen did not spare even the previous, pre-polar achievements of Dr. Cook and declared his brilliant ascent to the top of North America a swindle.

Justice returns the good name of Frederick Cook to the people. On all counts of prosecution, he was pardoned by US President Franklin Roosevelt. Scientific discoveries made in the Central Arctic in the middle of the 20th century confirmed the accuracy of Cook's descriptions, and it would seem that the main prize of the century - the North Pole - should have returned to his hands. However, the accusation of a hoax on McKinley has unfortunately taken on a life of its own and still drags Dr. Cook to the bottom of dishonor. For example, the world famous British traveler Wally Herbert 3
In 1968-1969, Herbert, with three companions, crossed the Arctic Ocean by dog sled from Cape Barrow in Alaska to Svalbard, visiting the North Pole.

Taking fraud in Alaska as an axiom and relying on it, he rejects Cook's victory over the pole. In 2001, Dr. Cook's book My Finding the Pole was republished in the United States with a foreword by the American researcher Robert Bryce, who considered Cook a liar. Bryce's introduction to Cook's story, which contains a lot of true discoveries and revelations, is angry and evil, and again the thought sounds that the deception with the pole is secondary, the first lie was born on the slopes of McKinley.

It is believed that if someone once vouchsafed a deceit, then most likely he will do it again; and the people around seem to be waiting for the next failure. You can save Dr. Cook only by proving that it was he who was the first at the top of McKinley, and enemies attributed the lie to him. That is the purpose of this book.

Frederick Cook tried to conquer the polar peak in Alaska three times: in 1903, in the summer of 1906, and finally in September 1906. Enviable persistence! It is also remarkable that by the beginning of the three-year siege of Big Mountain, as McKinley was called by the Russians, Cook was the only US citizen who wintered in both the Arctic and Antarctic.

Part 1
Way to the top

Chapter 1
In Greenland with Piri

In 1891, a 26-year-old doctor of medicine Frederick Cook read an announcement in one of the newspapers that Robert Peary was looking for a doctor for his North Greenland expedition. He immediately responded, and later wrote: “I can’t explain my feelings - it was like the door of a prison cell was flung open. I felt the first unstoppable, imperious call of the North" (20).

Already during the voyage on the ship "Kite" to the shores of Northern Greenland, Cook proved himself to be a skilled doctor. Peary tells how a piece of ice jammed the steering wheel and a heavy iron tiller grabbed his leg and broke both bones above the ankle.

He remembers 4
Here and below, quotations from primary sources (except when citing Russian-language publications) are translated by Dmitry Shparo.
When quoting, the author of the book allows abbreviations without additionally marking them. Note. ed.

Thanks to the professional skill of my doctor, Dr. Cook, and the vigilant and attentive care of Mrs. Peary 5
Robert Peary's wife Josephine accompanied her husband on this journey.
I have fully recovered. In less than ten months, I made a tedious ski trip of 1200 miles without serious consequences, and this fact is a strong proof of the professional skill of Dr. Cook (70).

Book cover by Robert Peary

"On the big ice to the North", 1898

And here is another statement by Piri of that time:

The solicitude of Dr. Cook can be attributed to the almost complete preservation of the detachment, even from minor diseases. Personally, I owe a lot to his skill, imperturbable perseverance and composure in emergencies. He was always a useful and indefatigable worker (70).

Yes, in any polar expedition it is very useful, it is even necessary to have an experienced, self-confident doctor. However, the participating Aesculapius is rarely relieved of numerous other duties not related to medical practice.

Portrait from the book: Frederic Cook

Portrait from the book: Robert Peary

Cook participated in boat and ski routes. He was entrusted with contacts with the Eskimos and scientific ethnographic work. The young explorer had an excellent opportunity to learn from both the natives and his expedition comrades. And the inquisitive Cook took full advantage of it. Years will pass, and it turns out that he speaks fluent Eskimo. The famous French ethnographer Jean Malory cites the words of the Greenland Eskimos: "Doctor Cook ruled the dogs like an Eskimo" (83), and this is the highest praise, for it is known that a white musher can never be compared in the art of controlling dogs with an Eskimo driver. Piri writes: “Until recently, the doctor could not shoot a single deer. Now he broke the record by laying down five ”(70).

Commander Peary had to choose a companion for an unparalleled sledge route through Greenland:

I reminded them [members of the detachment] that I must call for volunteers for a long journey and make a choice. They had been on the ice long enough to realize that this was not child's play. I told them that there was no return for those who volunteered to go, and that it would seem threatening and even reckless to many that two people should go to these unknown lands and their safe return would depend only on their own abilities and health. The Doctor became the first volunteer, followed by Gibson and Astrup (70).

I really like that Frederick Cook "became the first volunteer", and it is not so important that he was not Pirie's companion. The leader continues:

Then I defined my team in this way: Astrup will come with me. Dr. Cook on arrival at Radcliffe 6
The name of the base of the expedition in McCormick Bay.
Will take over the duties of the chief and will remain in this capacity until my return from the inner ice (70).

Piri set off on a two-month journey, from which he might well not have returned, entrusting the fate of his expedition to Frederick Cook.

Chapter 2
In the Antarctic ice with Amundsen

In 1897, Frederic Cooke joined the Antarctic expedition of Adrien de Gerlache on the Belgica. Georges Lecointe was the captain, and Roald Amundsen, a 25-year-old Norwegian, who at that time had a very modest experience of two Arctic voyages on whaling ships, was the senior officer. The Belgica carried 19 people of five different nationalities.

In a sense, Dr. Cook got into the expedition by accident. On August 20, 1897, in the New York Sun, he read an intriguing report from Belgium, which stated that the doctor of the Antarctic expedition had refused to participate, and therefore the sailing was delayed. Cook immediately sent a telegram to de Gerlache, offering his services. He announced that he could take polar equipment and Eskimo dogs with him and that he did not claim a salary.

The answer came in French a day later: "Pouvez rejoindre Montevideo mais hivernerez pas." Which meant: “Can you join in Montevideo? But we do not winter. "Yes," Cook telegraphed. A few days later, the head of the expedition wrote: "Meet us in Rio at the end of September" (21).

Three weeks later, Cook made his way to Rio de Janeiro. He was carrying fur clothing, tent material, snowshoes, skis, and hickory, a North American "steel" tree used to make sleigh runners.

On October 22, an American doctor stepped aboard the Belgica. Amundsen's biographer Roland Huntford notes that "from the very beginning, Amundsen paid special attention to Cook, since he was an experienced polar explorer" (47).

In January 1898, the Belgica entered Antarctic waters. In early March, when the summer heat in these southern latitudes had already dried up, the ship landed in the grip of ice fields. Amundsen wrote:

"Belgica" in the winter. Photo by Frederic Cook

(Unless otherwise noted, all photographs of Cooke in this book are courtesy of the Ohio State University Byrd Polar Research Center archives.)

Two people died during the voyage, two went crazy, everyone was sick with scurvy. In these critical conditions, Frederic Cook proved to be an impeccable professional. He was, in the words of Roland Huntford, "ahead of the medicine of his time" (47). At the same time, he treated not only the body, but also the soul. Here are Amundsen's words about Cook: “Was anyone sick - he sat by the bed and comforted the sick; if anyone was discouraged, he encouraged him and inspired confidence in deliverance” (82).

Scurvy brought down both the chief and the captain, and both were so bad that they wrote wills. The leadership passed to Amundsen. He's writing:

Dr. Cook and I knew that this disease could be avoided by eating fresh meat. So we spent many hard hours hunting for seals and penguins. However, the head of the expedition had an aversion to this meat, reaching the point of absurdity. He not only refused to eat it himself, but also forbade the whole team (82).

Becoming in charge, Amundsen ordered the carcasses to be dug up. All the people on the Belgica, including de Gerlache, ate their portions greedily. Fresh meat in the diet saved the unfortunate: just a week later, the crew began to recover. Norwegian speaks about Cook:

During these long 13 months of such a terrible situation, being constantly face to face with certain death, I got to know Dr. Cook better. He was the only one of us who never lost courage, always cheerful, full of hope, and always had a kind word for everyone. Not only did his faith never fade away, but his ingenuity and enterprise had no limits (82).

With a sense of surprise and admiration, Amundsen narrates about Cook's role in delivering the ship from ice captivity:

One fine day, one of us noticed that a small hole had formed about 900 meters from the ship. None of us attached much importance to it. But Dr. Cook somehow saw this hole as a good omen. He expressed his firm belief that the ice would soon begin to break, and as soon as it broke, this hole would reach us, and he proposed to us something that at first seemed like a crazy undertaking, namely: to cut a channel through 900 meters of solid ice that separated us from the hole, and lead the Belgica there, so that as soon as the ice begins to break, she can immediately use this favorable moment.

The undertaking seemed reckless for two reasons: first, the only ice-cutting tools on board were a few saws and some explosives; secondly, most of our people were completely unaccustomed to this kind of work. In addition, everyone was weak and exhausted. Nevertheless, Dr. Cook's proposal prevailed. It was still better than sitting back and thinking about the expected fate. So everyone perked up and the work began.

At this work we spent long tedious weeks, until finally we completed our task. Imagine our horror when, upon waking up, we saw that we were worse than before.

Our chagrin, however, was soon replaced by joy, as the wind shifted and the channel widened again. Wasting no time, we towed the ship into the hole.

And suddenly a miracle happened - just what Dr. Cook predicted. The ice broke open, and the path to the open sea passed right through our polynya. Joy gave us strength, and at full steam we went to the open sea (82).

Frederic Cook (left) and Roald Amundsen on an Antarctic expedition.

Photo by Frederic Cook

Neighbors of the Belgica crew.

In the company of such a practical polar explorer as Cook, you can learn a lot of little things. Thanks to his acquaintance with the North Greenland Eskimos and a deep study of everything related to polar life, he undoubtedly understands more in these matters than most people. He always has advice, and he gives it in a friendly and tactful way, without fuss and shouting (47).

Huntford announces: "Amundsen studied from the beginning and Cook was his teacher."

A few more entries by Amundsen from his book "My Life": "After a long Antarctic night, he led small reconnaissance detachments"; “Then Dr. Cook came up with an ingenious way…”; "And here again we were saved by the ingenuity of Dr. Cook." “He led”, “came up with a witty way”, “inventiveness” - what pleasant words, and notice that they come from the lips of a reserved Norwegian.

Friendly cartoon. In the same sleeping bag, Frederic Cook (left) and Roald Amundsen.

From the book: Huntford R. Scott & Amundsen, 1979

Even today, when the industry of goods for extreme adventures is superbly developed, the most difficult journeys cannot be done without ingenuity, without “golden hands”. And then, at the dawn of great ascents and great polar campaigns, ingenuity and, most importantly, the desire to invent were largely the key to success.

Huntford compares the two South Pole explorers, Roald Amundsen and Robert Scott, and listing the advantages of the former over the latter, speaks of goggles:

Amundsen discovered that Dr. Frederick Cook had designed a radical new kind of glasses while he was in the Arctic. They are based on the Eskimo model. This is a wide mask with ventilation slots at the top (47).

Elsewhere, Huntford admires "Cook's original new tent, aerodynamically shaped to reduce wind resistance, which was far ahead of its time" (47).

The Belgian government highly appreciated the merits of Dr. Cook. He was awarded the Order of Leopold I degree - the highest award in Belgium.

Experimental gear. Photo by Frederic Cook

The hero of the book is an outstanding pioneer, MD Frederick Cook, who announced that he was the first to climb North America's highest peak, Mount McKinley, in 1906, and then reached the North Pole in 1908. However, these claims were soon disputed, and for a long time Cook was accused of hoaxes and lies. Dmitry Shparo, the famous traveler who was the first in the world to reach the North Pole on skis, proves in this book that Frederick Cook actually climbed McKinley. This study fundamentally changes a lot in the history of the conquest of the North American continent. The book is addressed to everyone who is interested in travel, history in general and the annals of geographical discoveries in particular.

* * *

by the LitRes company.

Way to the top

In Greenland with Piri

He recalls:

Thanks to the professional skill of my doctor, Dr. Cook, and the vigilant and attentive care of Mrs. Pirie, I made a full recovery. In less than ten months, I made a tedious ski trip of 1200 miles without serious consequences, and this fact is a strong proof of the professional skill of Dr. Cook (70).

Book cover by Robert Peary

"On the big ice to the North", 1898

And here is another statement by Piri of that time:

The solicitude of Dr. Cook can be attributed to the almost complete preservation of the detachment, even from minor diseases. Personally, I owe a lot to his skill, imperturbable perseverance and composure in emergencies. He was always a useful and indefatigable worker (70).

Portrait from the book: Frederic Cook

Portrait from the book: Robert Peary

Commander Peary had to choose a companion for an unparalleled sledge route through Greenland:

I reminded them [members of the detachment] that I must call for volunteers for a long journey and make a choice. They had been on the ice long enough to realize that this was not child's play. I told them that there was no return for those who volunteered to go, and that it would seem threatening and even reckless to many that two people should go to these unknown lands and their safe return would depend only on their own abilities and health. The Doctor became the first volunteer, followed by Gibson and Astrup (70).

I really like that Frederick Cook "became the first volunteer", and it is not so important that he was not Pirie's companion. The leader continues:

Then I defined my team in this way: Astrup will come with me. Dr. Cook will take over the duties of Commander upon arrival at Radcliffe and will remain in that capacity until my return from the Inner Ice (70).

Piri set off on a two-month journey, from which he might well not have returned, entrusting the fate of his expedition to Frederick Cook.

In the Antarctic ice with Amundsen

Three weeks later, Cook made his way to Rio de Janeiro. He was carrying fur clothing, tent material, snowshoes, skis, and hickory, a North American "steel" tree used to make sleigh runners.

Now the entire ship's crew found themselves in the position of wintering here without proper winter clothing, without sufficient food for so many people. The prospects were indeed threatening (82).

"Belgica" in the winter. Photo by Frederic Cook

(Unless otherwise noted, all photographs of Cooke in this book are courtesy of the Ohio State University Byrd Polar Research Center archives.)

Scurvy brought down both the chief and the captain, and both were so bad that they wrote wills. The leadership passed to Amundsen. He's writing:

Dr. Cook and I knew that this disease could be avoided by eating fresh meat. So we spent many hard hours hunting for seals and penguins. However, the head of the expedition had an aversion to this meat, reaching the point of absurdity. He not only refused to eat it himself, but also forbade the whole team (82).

During these long 13 months of such a terrible situation, being constantly face to face with certain death, I got to know Dr. Cook better. He was the only one of us who never lost courage, always cheerful, full of hope, and always had a kind word for everyone. Not only did his faith never fade away, but his ingenuity and enterprise had no limits (82).

With a sense of surprise and admiration, Amundsen narrates about Cook's role in delivering the ship from ice captivity:

One fine day, one of us noticed that a small hole had formed about 900 meters from the ship. None of us attached much importance to it. But Dr. Cook somehow saw this hole as a good omen. He expressed his firm belief that the ice would soon begin to break, and as soon as it broke, this hole would reach us, and he proposed to us something that at first seemed like a crazy undertaking, namely: to cut a channel through 900 meters of solid ice that separated us from the hole, and lead the Belgica there, so that as soon as the ice begins to break, she can immediately use this favorable moment.

The undertaking seemed reckless for two reasons: first, the only ice-cutting tools on board were a few saws and some explosives; secondly, most of our people were completely unaccustomed to this kind of work. In addition, everyone was weak and exhausted. Nevertheless, Dr. Cook's proposal prevailed. It was still better than sitting back and thinking about the expected fate. So everyone perked up and the work began.

At this work we spent long tedious weeks, until finally we completed our task. Imagine our horror when, upon waking up, we saw that we were worse than before.

Our chagrin, however, was soon replaced by joy, as the wind shifted and the channel widened again. Wasting no time, we towed the ship into the hole.

And suddenly a miracle happened - just what Dr. Cook predicted. The ice broke open, and the path to the open sea passed right through our polynya. Joy gave us strength, and at full steam we went to the open sea (82).

Frederic Cook (left) and Roald Amundsen on an Antarctic expedition.

Photo by Frederic Cook

Neighbors of the Belgica crew.

In the company of such a practical polar explorer as Cook, you can learn a lot of little things. Thanks to his acquaintance with the North Greenland Eskimos and a deep study of everything related to polar life, he undoubtedly understands more in these matters than most people. He always has advice, and he gives it in a friendly and tactful way, without fuss and shouting (47).

Huntford announces: "Amundsen studied from the beginning and Cook was his teacher."

Friendly cartoon. In the same sleeping bag, Frederic Cook (left) and Roald Amundsen.

From the book: Huntford R. Scott & Amundsen, 1979

Huntford compares the two South Pole explorers, Roald Amundsen and Robert Scott, and listing the advantages of the former over the latter, speaks of goggles:

Amundsen discovered that Dr. Frederick Cook had designed a radical new kind of glasses while he was in the Arctic. They are based on the Eskimo model. This is a wide mask with ventilation slots at the top (47).

Elsewhere, Huntford admires "Cook's original new tent, aerodynamically shaped to reduce wind resistance, which was far ahead of its time" (47).

The Belgian government highly appreciated the merits of Dr. Cook. He was awarded the Order of Leopold I degree - the highest award in Belgium.

Experimental gear. Photo by Frederic Cook

First expedition to McKinley

Returning to America, Cook met through friends 24-year-old Mary Fidel Hunt, a wealthy widow who lived with her four-year-old daughter Ruth. On June 10, 1902, on his 37th birthday, Frederick Cook married for the second time. He adopted Ruth and bought a big house in a posh Brooklyn neighborhood. His medical practice expanded.

A doctor familiar with Cook said:

He was endowed with intelligence and prudence of the highest order, which attracted a large number of patients to him and inspired confidence that neither time nor absences could destroy. After Cook's return from long trips, his patients not only returned, but also urged their friends to seek his professional advice ( Cit. on: {33}).

The doctor was one of the first in the United States to acquire an X-ray machine and changed his horse-drawn carriage to an unfamiliar Franklin car.

But a successful doctor and a happy family man were attracted by high latitudes with the same force. Dr. Cook read Peary's announcement of an expedition to Greenland eleven years ago, de Gerlache's message about the Belgica's voyage to Antarctica five years ago, and now the polar call materialized in the article by A. Brooks and D. Riberne "Plan of climbing Mount McKinley ”, published in January 1903 in the National Geographic magazine (8).

The first information about the huge mountain Tenada, in the future - McKinley, came to the civilized world in the 19th century from the Russians, because Alaska at that time belonged to Russia. From a distance of 70-80 versts during their trips through the wilds of Central Alaska, Fyodor Lavrentievich Kolmakov, Andrei Kondratievich Glazunov and Semyon Ivanovich Lukin saw this mountain. In 1839, Mount Tenada found its place on a geographical map published in St. Petersburg in German by Ferdinand Petrovich Wrangel, who from 1830 to 1835 was the main ruler of Russian America.

The first scientist to explore the interior of Alaska after the Russians was the American William Doll. From the mouth of the Tanana, a left tributary of the Yukon, he surveyed a vast panorama of the interior mountains of Alaska. A map published by Doll in 1870 shows a mighty ridge - an arc with a bulge looking northwest. It was Doll who suggested the name that is well known today - the Alaska Range.

In 1875, merchant and prospector Arthur Harper, while rafting down the Tanana, saw "a huge ice mountain heading south" (52). Harper is the first American to testify about McKinley 45 years after the Russians.

The year 1897 was marked by two events. The first is the conquest by the Italian expedition of the Duke of Abruzzi of Mount St. Elias, which was considered the height limit in Alaska. The second is the voyage of gold miners into the interior of the country and their story that among the northern peaks of the Alaska Range there is a peak that exceeds the height of Mount St. Elijah. That is, on the one hand, the record height fell, and on the other, it turned out that it was not a record at all.

Five months before the joy of the Italians at the top of St. Elias, on January 24, 1897, the New York Sun newspaper published an article by gold prospector William Dickey about his spectacular journey up the Susitna River in the summer of 1896. Dickey wrote:

We named our huge peak Mount McKinley after William McKinley of Ohio, who became president. This fact turned out to be the first news we heard on the way back from this wild delightful country. We had no doubt that this peak was the highest in North America and calculated that it was over 20,000 feet ( Cit. on: {52}).

From the century before last, such a funny story has come down to us. Dickey was asked why he and his friends decided to name the peak that so struck their imagination after McKinley? The prospector explained that in remote, remote areas of Alaska, two gold prospectors joined his group - rabid supporters of free coinage of silver. In a few weeks, they finished off their masters with arguments in favor of silver money. Witty Dickey decided to take revenge on the boring guys and named the mountain after their famous opponent - President McKinley, a firm supporter of the gold standard.

In 1902, on an assignment from the United States Geological Survey, geologist Brooks traveled from Cook Inlet to the Yukon River. On August 6, he proudly wrote:

I was looking at the steep slopes of Mount [McKinley], which was only nine miles from where I smoked my pipe. No white man has ever reached the foot of this mountain before. But I went much further - to a place where even a nomadic Indian in moccasins has never set foot ( Cit. on: {52}).

The idea to conquer the main peak of the North American continent captured Dr. Cook. The case seemed prestigious, and the example of the Duke of Abruzzo was inspiring: in 1897, the Italian climbed Mount St. Elias, and three years later he reached a record point on the way to the North Pole. Greenland, Antarctica, Alaska - a more than convincing succession of achievements on the road to the Pole.

The expedition to McKinley, conceived by Cook, looked like a grand undertaking, consisting of three independent parts: the way to the foot of the mountain, the ascent, and the return to the people. The leader had to find finance, pick up equipment and find companions. Cook began preparations with the manufacture of a special tent, the prototype of which, together with Amundsen, tested in Antarctica. David Abercrombie, owner of a sporting goods store in Manhattan, recalled:

I first met Dr. Cook when he came to me and told me what kind of tent he was going to take up Mount McKinley. He wanted it to be made in the shape of an octagonal pyramid, which I had never done before. Then he chose extremely light silk for her. I told him that I did not think the material was strong enough, but he firmly objected that he understood better than I did. This made me smile as I had been in this business for years and thought I knew exactly what quality material was needed to withstand harsh weather conditions. But arguing with Dr. Cook was useless. He would have done it anyway. And so it happened. I sewed a tent, and in the end it served well on Mount McKinley. It weighed no more than 3.5 pounds and could be folded to fit in a large pocket (65).

We add that Cook's tent did not have special racks, and the central stake replaced the ice ax.

The first member of the team was 21-year-old Ralph Sheinwald, a student at Columbia University, a member of the Baldwin-Ziegler expedition to the North Pole, a member of the Arctic Club of America. Ralph's father, a wealthy manufacturer, invested $1,000 in Cook's expedition. Cook and Sheinwald will be friends for the rest of their lives.

Then came Robert Dunn, a 26-year-old journalist whom Cook appointed as a geologist, chronicler, and his second-in-command. Robert's aunt, Anna Hunter, also supported the expedition with $1,000. Let's talk about Danna in more detail.

Frederic Cook with his daughter Ruth.

From the Ohio State University Bird Polar Research Center archive

It was recommended to Cook by Lincoln Steffens, editor of the New-York Commercial Advertiser. The young man had the experience of "wild life": he was looking for gold in the Klondike, explored the volcano of Mount Wrangel in Alaska, as a reporter he traveled to the island of Martinique two weeks after the eruption of the Pele volcano.

Steffens was sure that the state of mind of the participants in the difficult expedition and the verbal stories about it were separated by an abyss. In his autobiography he wrote:

I have seen many Arctic explorers, read their books and heard their stories. All of them omitted the worst moments of their disputes and depressions, which are an integral part of the true human nature in such tests (75).

Dunn's goal, unknown to Cook, was to join the expedition and tell "the whole truth". Keeping diaries, which became the basis of articles and books, the journalist solved this problem consistently, not worrying about not offending his travel comrades. Dunn was a whistleblower, but it is important that he was merciless to himself.

Steffens was well aware of the shortcomings of his protégé. Taking him to work in a New York newspaper, he soon became convinced that the new employee is a source of constant trouble. According to the chief, Dunn had "no respect for anyone or anything." Steffens says:

His method of talking was to pull everything out of people until he found something that they revere as a shrine, and then he spat on that shrine. He spat on all of us and on all our feelings. He mocked those who liked him, and soon no one spoke to him. But I didn't want to fire him. I explained the situation and asked him to make peace with the other reporters.

- Do you want me to talk? Dunn looked around for someone and, seeing Kagan, continued.

- So you took it and talked to Kagan?

“Yes,” I said.

"Okay, I'll talk to him just for you."

And, going up to the Kagan, he asked:

“Listen, Kagan, why do you East Side Jews never bathe?

What was to be done? I had to fire Dunn (75).

Cook was restrained in describing his adventures in Alaska in his reporting journal articles and book, while Dunn, on the contrary, is extremely emotional and frank in his publications. We learn a lot about Cook from Dunn's prose, and historically the journalist has been regarded as a scathing detractor of the doctor. According to the author, this is not at all the case. Dunn portrays the leader of the expedition as a romantic and at the same time pragmatist, a person who is constantly doubtful, but stubborn and makes firm decisions, absolutely fearless and physically very strong. All this crystallizes against the background of the journalist's irritation and agitation. Very difficult external circumstances and the behavior of others almost constantly cause him irritation and resentment, while he continually stipulates himself: they say, I'm not gold either.

“Robert Dunn, Ralph Sheinwald, Mrs. F. A. Cook, Dr. F. A. Cook, Fred Prince. Detachment of 1903.

Photo by Frederic Cook

Mary Cook reacted to her husband's forthcoming expedition with great enthusiasm and gathered in Alaska with him. In May 1903, the couple, leaving Ruth with their relatives, left for Seattle, where they were joined by Dunn and Fred Prince of Darby, Montana, a horse driver and guide who had performed the same duties on the previous year's Brooks expedition, an avid tobacco lover. In Seattle, Walter Miller joined the expedition quite by accident - as a photographer. Dunn calls him "a bumbling, low-voiced townsman who was turned down three times." “Miller came down to see us off,” Dunn continues, “and was taken aboard” (27).

The sixth participant was already on the way, on Kayak Island. It was John Carroll, in Dunn's words, "the dark-haired, high-browed Apollo of Irish blood" (27). The main financial resource was Mrs. Cook's money and Harper's Monthly's advance for articles the boss had to write. Part of the funds came from Herbert Bridgman.

From Cook's article:

Around midnight on June 23, the Santa Ana anchored in Cook Inlet, half a mile offshore near the village of Tyonek. There was a strong tide, and the water rushed along the side of the ship like a fast river current. It was a clear, invigorating and rather bright night. At three o'clock we fastened the straps to the first of the horses and threw her over the side, from where she was to swim to the shore. Other horses quite rightly protested against this treatment, and their resistance was so great that we had to think of another way to unload them from the side into the water. We brought them into a regular horse box, which we then lifted out of the hold and lowered into the water. Then, with great care, the horses were forced to plunge into the icy water of Cook Inlet, and people in boats guided them or escorted them to the shore. In a few hours, the horses and equipment were safely delivered to the shore, after which the Santa Ana weighed anchor and went to the open sea, while we remained to solve the problem of how to get to Mount McKinley (17).

The joyless Tyonek, who was at the mercy of mosquitoes, disappointed Mrs. Cook, and she chose for herself, as Dr. Cook put it, "a more favorable coast in the vicinity of Valdez" (22).

Unloading horses into the water. Photo by Frederic Cook

"Escorting a horse to shore, Cook [James] Inlet". Photo by Frederic Cook

Path to the mountain

Dr. Cook's 1903 route is depicted on a map in his 1907 reporting article. The discoverers of mountainous Alaska moved up the rivers to the northwest. Having overcome the Alaska Range and remaining "on the other side" of this large horseshoe, they approached McKinley and stormed the sky-high peak twice. After dangerous climbing lessons, movement along the northern spurs of the Alaska Range resumed. Cook found a previously unknown pass, and the travelers, having crossed it, returned by water on rafts to Cook Bay. Let's not pedantically trace their way to McKinley, two vertical takeoffs and the way back. The task is completely different - using reliable primary sources, to tell about the relationship of people during difficult and dangerous adventures, about Cook, about Dunn, whose role in the fate of Cook as his harsh critic - we repeat this again - is greatly exaggerated.

Dunn's article (the journalist inserts his diary entries into the text):

27th of June. The Doctor left me in charge of the caravan this morning, taking Miller and half of the equipment for the boat's ascent with poles and string.

The doctor did not smoke, which made me feel uncomfortable. Until the last moment, no one knew who would be sent with the boat, he made the decision impromptu, without consulting anyone.

Reality shocked us. Ankle-deep feet sank into dense yellow moss, and low trembling bridges separated small lakes. First one, then another horse suddenly fell through, helplessly kicking and grumbling. Animals completely lost their heads. They seemed to want to jump out of the lake. We dragged, pulled, kicked them, took off their heavy bags and dragged them ashore, pulled with ropes tied around their neck and tail, poured water into their nostrils until they began to hiss like snakes. One was pulled out, the other fell through. Oh, how we fought! Excited, hungry, bewildered, crazed with gnats, we fought chest-deep in yellow shit, untangling slippery girths, unloading and loading trembling, exhausted animals. And so without end. It was torture.

Someone said: "Halt." Fred looked at me. “As you say, you are our doctor,” he said, drawing out the words. Responsibility holds back. We set up camp. There is no food for the horses, the water is muddy, and yet Fred, who walks so quietly and so confidently when everyone is down and lost, who doesn't seem to touch the pan, volunteered to bake the bread.

June 28th. Yesterday was just a hint of today. Calvin, when he created his hell, apparently was in Alaska ... But, damn it, we will do it, and if not, then it is not our fault.

June 29. When Bulanaya fell into the lake for the third time, and I followed her to pull her out, I sprayed Jack, and he screeched for five minutes. a curse me. He's Irish, so swearing doesn't mean anything. I later apologized. He was very surprised. He works furiously and thinks no one else can do it. Hiram [Scheinwald's nickname] is completely shocked, he has a real Alaskan numbness, he cannot move, or think, or hear. He doesn't even know how to cook and doesn't seem to want to learn. He is completely devoid of initiative. But I sympathize with him. Nine out of ten people who came here from the city would have been twice as bad - they would not have survived at all. One day I heard Hyrum singing his college song, and Jack, after scolding the Doctor, Hyrum, the Prince, and all of them, suddenly began whistling an amazing Irish ballad. We just have a great team.

July 1. This morning I almost went mad with midges while I was cooking rice, getting up, as usual, an hour earlier than the others. Hiram did a heroic thing: he saw a swamp hen, waited for the horses to move aside, flopped ten times into a puddle ten yards away, and hit Big Bulan exactly in the head. "Alaska is no place for little boys with ladies' guns," said Prince (27).

On the same day, Sheinwald, while fording a stream, nearly drowned until Jack, “who said he wanted to kill him, jumped into the water and pulled him out” (27).

As for the water group, in the book of her adventures, Cook tells:

I would have preferred to join the pack train, but so great were the uncertainties involved in the boat trip that I took charge of the undertaking and named Miller as my assistant. On our small punt, loaded to the very gunwale, we quickly floated through the oily brown water between the indented banks of the Beluga to the delta and further to the tidal swell of Cook Inlet. We thought we had timed the tide correctly, as it controls all movement in the bay. We needed a high tide to get to the mouth of the Susitna by high water. This river at its mouth is about five miles wide, and there are only two or three navigable channels, which are difficult to find. While searching for these channels, the tide suddenly began to ebb, and we were left on a huge muddy plain. Within a few minutes our longboat was glued to the sticky clay a mile from the shore and three miles from the receding water. This was exactly what we were trying to avoid, because we knew that the tide would come with a high tidal wave that would sink our longboat before it left the sticky clay bottom.

The coming night made us very worried. The first task was to come up with a way to tear the longboat off the bottom. Soon the problem was solved, and we even managed to find some firewood. B about most of the night was spent preparing tea, beans, and bread; At the same time, we carefully observed the situation. The squally wind that accompanies the tide could have been devastating for us. Therefore, we set up a queue to watch for the approach of danger.

In the morning the tide lifted us as easily as it ground us, and we set off to look for the port branch of the Susitna. By noon they reached a small Indian village, where they took an Indian youth named Stephen to help. He turned out to be an experienced boatman (22).

Cook article:

On the morning of July 2, after almost four days of the hardest journey along the river in a boat, we reached Susitna Station (hereinafter - the Station - D. Sh.) - a small trading post. The weather was invariably bad, which, however, did not prevent mosquitoes and other blood-sucking ones from harassing us. These indestructible creatures hovered over the water in swarms and buzzed and squeaked so disgustingly that they almost drove us crazy. Our faces and hands were bitten so badly that it led to serious forms of inflammation that caused us pain, fever and untold suffering. And all this despite the fact that we seem to have thoroughly taken care of protection against mosquitoes with the help of capes, gloves and a special silk awning.

At the Station, we hired another guide - Evan, a friend of Stephen, also an Indian. We also took another boat to move along the river, better than the previous one. To connect with the main group of our expedition, we had to go 60 miles. Our Indian friends said that it would take us 20 days to get to the caravan.

Leaving the Station, we continued moving up the Yentna River. We rowed, pulled the boat behind us, pushed it in front of us, pushed off the bottom with poles - no matter how hard we tried, and on average we managed to walk 12 miles a day. We covered the 15 miles up the Squentna to the canyon in a little over a day, although we were told that this segment of the journey would take us at least a week (17).

It is typical for Cook to do something without sparing himself and, of course, his companions, many times faster than others, and be proud of it. In the future, this ability of Cook will more than once become an argument of his critics - this cannot be.

Cook continues:

On the morning of July 8, we set up camp at the appointed place - on a small island in the middle of Squentna. Toward noon of the same day, we saw a caravan of horses moving along the south side of the river. The squentna at this point reaches a width of about 500 yards and carries its waters along a bed of gravel at a speed of 8 miles per hour. We managed to transport people and equipment quite quickly, but we had to work hard with the horses. One horse was carried away by the current for five miles, and it was possible to save it only thanks to the great experience and skill of the Prince. However, the animal turned out to be so exhausted that it never regained its former strength, although it went further with us to Mount McKinley.

From the Skventna River, the pack caravan headed almost north, heading for the Kichatna River 20 miles away. The boat (17) also had to be delivered there.

The connection of the water and land group Robert Dunn accompanied by a recording:

July 8. They all suffocated in mosquito nets, which I hate because they do not allow you to see and hear normally, and if a person cannot tolerate mosquitoes the way God created them, he does not belong here (27).

Before splitting up again, Dunn attempted to swap Miller for Sheinwald in the boat. However, Cook disagreed. "You guys get along so well," he smiled. “I think we need to try again” (27).

On July 11–13, Cook, accompanied by Miller and Steven, made the first climbing outing - he climbed Mount Yenlo east of the Yentna River. At 4,200 feet they set up a theodolite and other instruments. Cook's book:

About midway between the Doll and Russell mountains, east of the main range, we found a group of pointed peaks with an average height of about 8,000 feet. I named them Bryant Peaks after my friend and colleague Mr. Henry Bryant, secretary of the Mountaineering Club (22).

Several islands have been discovered on the Yentna River. The ascent along Kichatna on July 13 continued until dark:

It was extremely pleasant when, at about 11 pm, we heard voices and saw the sparkle of our friends' fire on the south bank in a swampy place among the fir trees. The next morning everyone crossed the river and found a better place to camp. It was noticeable that both people and horses were very tired. After a day's rest, the horses with a small load went upstream along the coast and through the numerous bends of the river to the higher foothills. The boat loaded to the limit followed the caravan (22).

The chronicler of the detachment talks about the difficulties:

July 13. The horse's tails whistle continuously through the air. I go to the horses to untangle their ropes. Horseflies drive animals into a frenzy. The prince says that the animals cannot bear another day like this. Half of the hair on their necks and thighs is plucked. Handfuls of insects can be collected from their snouts, and blood drips continuously. You can't look at this without compassion. The mosquito in my ear drives me crazy. Jack blows smoke into my ear while Ralph squirts strong tea through the mouthpiece of his pipe.

Yesterday Jack came up and said that he could go home in a boat with the Kichatna Indians. According to him, we have a supply of food for five, but not for six. "Damn grub," I said, "we've had enough." But I thought that when we got to Kichatna, it would be better to replace Jack. And when Ralph expressed doubt that Jack would endure to the end, I said: "He will, he's Irish" (27).

From Dunn's article: "Animals can't stand another day like this." Photo by Frederic Cook

Closer to the river, the entire meadow was flooded with water up to the waist, and again emergency measures had to be taken:

“If anyone treated a horse like that on a trail in the Copper Valley,” Jack said loudly, as we pulled and cut snags from under four horses, which were wedged at the same time in a quagmire with rotten trunks and roots, “he would be lynched in Valdez ".

the 14 th of July. Hyrum begins to "show interest" in cooking and packing. Today he mixed up all the pack bags, pissed me off, and Miller dryly remarked: “I read about such guys, but I never thought that I would come across such a one.” And Jack said, "I called it the fifth wheel and made a note about it in my diary." Fred and Jack make huge fires every night to dry and surround them with blankets, and when Hyrum, unable to make a fire even to save his own skin, hangs his own wet clothes on their ropes, Jack quickly throws them off. The Doctor is bustling and bustling about the instruments he carries around in two large boxes, and I foresee problems loading them. All products are terribly wet, but this does not seem to bother anyone but me. Sugar turns to syrup and bacon turns moldy. This is the first day of seventeen when we rest.

July 15. Jack lost Light Grey. I returned alone and found him right in the middle of the path, tangled in roots and up to his neck in mud. Pulled out. He elm in the bog three or four more times, and at some point I even thought that he was finished. In difficult places, Light Gray loses his head and breaks like a madman. It is frightening when horses close their eyes, lay their heads on the dirt and do not try to drive away mosquitoes that cover their entire neck.

I advised the Doctor to distribute responsibilities and organize some kind of camping and collection system. An expedition of this type cannot go by itself unless the leader leads by example, getting up first, starting to prepare breakfast, and tirelessly directing any work. The Doctor never gives orders, he just takes care of his instruments, which I call rubbish, and like most newcomers he is constantly changing his shoes. I wanted to lie in bed and see what would happen if I didn't get up at 5:30 and start making breakfast. I may be stubborn, but everyone else in this bunch is completely irresponsible. I wonder if others condemn me in their diaries? They're probably condemned.

Hyrum didn't want to talk to me tonight, and when I spoke first, he said grandiloquently, “I want you to apologize for what you called me today. By the way, I'm not what you said." “Religion doesn't matter here,” I replied, “it's blood. Besides, I am not a Christian, and if I had your blood, I would consider it to be the best on earth” (27).

From Dunn's article: "He loses his head and breaks like a lunatic." Photo by Frederic Cook

Cook article:

On the evening of July 15, we sent our Indians home. They were good and faithful helpers, and we would very much like to continue the campaign with them, but they had to return to their fishing industry, and besides, we would not have enough provisions for them.

We were now moving west along the Kichatna River, and in many respects this section proved to be the most difficult of the entire journey. Constant rains, dense undergrowth, fast-flowing streams and rivers, difficult slopes, as well as mosquitoes and gadflies - all this together slowed down our progress. Soon the horses lost their strength and became so weak that we could only use them for three hours a day, and every other day. Their legs were badly beaten and scratched by vegetation, the skin was bitten by insects so that there was no living place left on it. Because of this, the animals developed inflammation and something like blood poisoning. I understood that the reason was in the rubbish penetrating into their bodies through open wounds (17).

Dunn has even more dramatic details of these days:

At night in the camp, we noticed that the horses began to run out of steam. They have lost weight. Instead of cutting the grass, they stood in a circle near the camp and, without looking up, looked at us. To make matters worse, their legs were swollen and twice as thick as before.

"Listen," Jack said so the Doctor could hear him. “One more day of these pits of mud and snags and we won’t have any packhorses left.” The Prince agreed, but in such a way that the Doctor would not hear: he nodded his head and remarked that they looked simply awful. I knew he thought it even worse. He was the greatest diplomat I have ever known. It seemed impossible for the Prince to offend or even disagree with anyone other than Hiram.

July 17th. In the middle of the day, Miller led a caravan ahead of me across the tundra. I heard that he kept shouting at the skinny horse, which we called Beaten-Moth-Bay - he had lost so much wool. Then Miller stopped, continuing to beat the animal. Useless. I went. The horse was exhausted. Together with Jack and the Prince, we unloaded him, took his luggage and brought him to the camp along the edge of the swamp.

Fred said that now the horses were having too much trouble on a very difficult route. I repeated all this to the Doctor, suggesting that we take a rest of two or three days, as Whitelobaya, Bulanaya, and Bridget were on the verge of complete exhaustion. The doctor made an incomprehensible gesture and muttered, "Hmm."

The prince declared that if we continued like this, we would never reach the mountains. I asked him what he would do. "Rest here for a few days and go slowly, in hourly marches, adding half an hour every day if the horses come to their senses." I suggested, "Tell that to the Doctor." He replied, “Not unless he asks himself. I'm just a hired hand."

18 July. It's raining for the sixth day. I asked the Doctor to come out and inspect the horses with me, but he didn't want to. How do you like it? His pack horses are on edge, and he doesn't pay the slightest attention. He only packs and unpacks his appliances. I wonder if he knows how to use a theodolite? The Prince lashed out at the Doctor: "Yes, sir, we'd like to get to the pass anyway." We were all depressed and irritated each other; maybe I was picking on Ralph too much.

July 19. Seventh rainy day. Soon we will grow webbing on our feet. The doctor says nothing about continuing to move. He doesn't want to look at horses again. It looks like he doesn't care. Swollen feet of animals return to normal. Everyone is getting better, except for the Moth-Battered Bay.

Shall we move tomorrow? No one knows. The doctor said we should try it and see how it goes. Foolish principle. We're going to stick with the Prince's scheme, or we're done. The doctor does not want to say whether we will walk for two hours or twenty. He cannot make decisions. He doesn't seem to be in control of the situation.

July 20. We hadn't gone more than 300 yards before Bridget fell to her knees, not from sinking into the swamp, but from exhaustion. I screamed and ran forward, offering to return. The doctor didn't want to hear it. He and Hiram tried to get Bridget to get up with sticks. I heard Hyrum say "Get up!" and beat a horse on the head to show off to the Doctor. And Miller scolded Hyrum on what light is worth for these beaters of a poor animal. Finally, they apparently managed to pick it up.

We had been moving for a good three hours when we came to a cliff from which our white kitchen horse (Bridget carried the pans) refused to come down. Miller began to beat her, and I threw clods of dirt at her from above. Somehow we got Bridget across the stream. After that, she, exhausted, lay down.

I was angry, ran forward and, seeing the Doctor, began to speak violently. "Dunn, it's no good talking like that," he replied calmly. I returned with Hyrum, and we batoged Bridget forward. But behind the next jumper, the horse rolled into a pit of mud. Miller and I unloaded it, pulled it out of the mud, loaded it again and pulled it up to the Doctor. “I regret that sometimes I express my feelings too violently,” I said. And he said, "Dann, you always talk too much and too loudly."

Anyway, I'm happy tonight - if anyone else might be interested. Oddly enough, Hyrum himself volunteered to wash the dishes. Jack punches holes in a pewter plate to sift the lumpy, moldy flour. Finally, after I said that he should have more confidence in us, the Doctor agreed and announced in advance (just think) that we would go three hours a day until the horses got better.

The intense tension of the journey did not subside. Escorting horses one by one through miles of shit, boiling beans, kneading bread, burning desensitized fingers on a red-hot reflector, not one extra hour to rest, drying things to avoid the torture of rheumatism, repairing clothes and shoes torn to shreds, the inability to forget the murmur of icy water around own waist and maddening clouds of mosquitoes. Hyrum hated getting his feet wet, obviously not caring about anything but his own comfort. He was stubborn and energetic, although insanely lazy and slow, like an old woman. But with people like us in Alaska, things could be much worse, and this descendant of French emigrants was part of our hopeless and endless life.

July 25th. Ice water rolls stones along the bottom and murmurs in the armpits. Hiram climbed on Chaly, I chased after him and began to beat with a stick. Hiram lost his temper and swore in the middle of the river that he would “make” me if I hit his horse again. Of course I hit. When he reached the shore, he rushed at me. Ten seconds later he was face down in the mud and spitting out gravel. I didn't want to hurt him. His worst insults were "boor" and "hooligan". Foam appeared on his lips, whiny notes in his voice, which he just did not invent while I was in a relaxed state. Finally I knocked him down six inches from the swamp slush and told him that he would either freeze here or promise not to ride across the canals. He was even more offended when Miller, who passed by, laughingly took a picture of us while Hiram was making a promise. “You act like you’re in charge here,” he whimpered, “whatever you do is right, and if someone else makes a mistake, you start cursing.” The Doctor stopped the caravan and asked Miller what happened. "It's just Dunn and Hyrum sorting out a little matter," he replied. The doctor didn't answer. Ten minutes later, unhorsed Hiram was swept off his feet by the current in a filthy creek. I pulled it out with a pole. Know ours, we do not hold evil (30).

At the end of July, the caravan said goodbye to Kichatna and found itself in a wide glacial valley, along which it began to move faster. On August 3, the travelers found Simpson Pass, a deep gorge that led them to the northwest side of the Alaska Range. The rivers flowing to Susitna were left behind.

Cook's book:

We came to the Kuskokwim River, which flows through mountains up to 6,000 feet high, called the Terracotta Mountains because of their coloration. Here luck changed us again. The horses were weakened again for lack of grass, but, to make matters worse, John Carroll, who had been ill for several days, realized that he could no longer move with the caravan, and turned back, taking one of the horses with him to carry supplies. Now our company consisted of five men and thirteen horses; each horse carried about 100 pounds of cargo (22).

Dunn tells the story of Carroll more fully:

A strange change has taken place in Jack. A week ago, he complained of chest pains and one day, as he told Fred, he almost lay down on the trail, letting everyone go ahead. And somehow, from terrible weakness, he was twice knocked down by the current in the same glacial stream. The doctor said that he had neuralgia, gave him a white powder and smiled. No one but the Prince dares inquire about Jack's health. No one dares to disagree with him as he lashes out at you for the most innocent remark. The doctor told me that he had "talked" to Jack twice about these outbursts. All the previous night, Jack had not slept and moaned, pressing his hands to his chest. This morning he was breathing heavily, like a man running across a pass. I went ahead to tell the Doctor about him. He asked if I had noticed what strange eyes Jack had yesterday. Like he's going crazy. "I have come to the conclusion," finished the Doctor, "that Jack has pleurisy, not neuralgia."

July 30th. The doctor came to consult. “I think it's better for Jack to come back,” he said. “It seems cruel, but what else can you do? He is not getting better, he is getting weaker, and his heart is not working well. If he rested here for a day or two, he would certainly feel better - enough to overcome the pass and go down on a raft down Kichatna. He has nothing dangerous, it's not septic pleurisy." I suspected that the Doctor simply wanted to get rid of Jack, since he was practically useless as a groom and we didn't have much food. The idea of sending a sick person alone through this gloomy pass, in order to then repeatedly swim across the frenzied Kichatna and descend it on a raft 200 miles, seems disgusting and inhumane.

But in the tent, Jack clearly perked up before such a prospect and appeared almost in his former form. He began to exaggerate the difficulties of the return trip in his pitiful way and suggested that he be given a Moth-Bashed Bay, capable of carrying no more than 40 pounds.

Later I had a serious talk with the Doctor. He won't get it, I thought mercilessly, but we need Mothbeaten to make it easier for the other horses. However, Mothbeaten still can't carry much, and as food is used up, fewer horses are needed, but Bayboy will almost certainly starve to death as he descends along Kuskokwim, where there is no grass. "Well, I'll find out what the Prince thinks," the Doctor avoided a direct answer.

The next morning the Doctor, yawning, got up before breakfast and set aside a small pot, a can of milk, and a pewter tankard for Jack. Fred and I started a five-mile horse hunt. Somewhere in the middle of the boring tundra, we met Miller, who said: "Jack is better, and today he will come with us." “I think,” said Fred, “Jack is getting a little more out of his illness. By appearance, you can never tell if a person can survive in these places. And I remembered how the "old-timers" in Valdiz said that in appearance he was the only one of us who could withstand such a journey.

August 1. I invited the people to speak. Everyone would like Jack to stay, although the Doctor argued for his return. It seemed that the Doctor intended to send Jack away quickly, while feigning great concern. Miller declined to vote, saying that Jack should decide the issue himself. Fred made a condition that if Jack stays, then someone must always be near him. The Doctor changed his mind, allowing him to take Beaten Moth. Fred and I were ready to help in every possible way, realizing that life and death were at stake. Jack decided to come back after two hours of talking about how he didn't want to keep us. Hyrum suggested that Jack sign a statement that he was leaving us voluntarily, but the Doctor and I forbade this. This should be a difficulty common to arctic conditions (30).

Dunn's story deserves comment. Appearance - brave, experienced, powerful - is often deceptive. More than once giants have joined the author's Arctic expeditions. Our crazy backpacks of 50 plus kilograms seemed like a trifle to them. But on the fourth, if not on the third day of the journey, with these “light” backpacks against the wind and frost, strong men - Hercules and Apollos - left the game. They suffered to tears, and it was evident.

Professional psychologists said that the reliability of a person in extreme conditions is mainly related to his inner consent to endure discomfort and suffering. He should be okay with it as part of the job, and maybe even enjoy it.

Otherwise, the sufferer leaves the ranks. He does this openly, declaring that he is not ready, he did not calculate his strength, he did not know that this would be the case; either he keeps his mark, believing that it is indecent to give up, or embarrassed, but in any case he falls ill, which ultimately saves him from the troubles that have piled up. Such a "leaving" from reality can be called a subconscious simulation.

It is not easy to believe psychologists, but that is exactly what has happened over and over again in difficult circumstances.

Carroll said he would like to return with the Indians. The moment was lost, and, according to the theory (and if it is correct), the poor fellow had no choice but to get sick. The travelers meanwhile were approaching their destination. Cook says:

We said goodbye to Kuskokwim and headed northeast, along the northern slope of the Alaska Range, keeping above the tree line. There was more grass, blueberries grew in abundance, and there was plenty of game. People and horses were provided with good food, which allowed us to speed up the movement.

We saw moose in the valleys of glacial rivers. In those places where there were a lot of blueberries, we met large grizzly bears. Hundreds of caribou grazed in relatively flat grassy meadows. In the distance, on the steep slopes of the mountains, huge herds of mountain sheep roamed. There is probably no other place in all of North America where such an abundance of big game is found (17).

Hunger no longer threatened, but fatigue and nervous exhaustion made themselves felt, and skirmishes within the detachment continued. Dunn's article:

August 7. Yesterday, when the rest of us were lounging around camp, Fred and I were catching horses in the tundra miles from camp and started to get tired. The doctor said we should reach the next river by noon. (He never knows where he wants to stop. He is a terrible combination of stubbornness and indecision. He stated a long time ago that he would like to hear criticism against him, but no one has dared to offer anything yet: everyone could only laugh up his sleeve over some of his deeds.) There was plenty of water and fodder for the horses, but the Doctor walked another mile and stopped where there was neither. As we chewed dry bread, I said, "That's the smartest thing you've ever done." "Where was the water and food?" - he asked. “Right on the beach,” I replied. He paused. “You've crossed the line by using the word 'smart',” he said, and everyone froze as if they'd found a hissing dynamite fuse under their noses. I restrained myself. He took my remark seriously. He should have laughed, "If you need water, go back to the river and grab some for us." Nevertheless, I suffer from the inevitable stiffness that such nonsense causes. All this seems like a small thing, but in our circumstances such a small thing is as big as the Holocaust in the civilized world. And under these conditions of thunderstorms and the stress of hiking, this is only the second time that one ego has irritated another ego. “Those are the things I try to forget,” Hyrum said when I told him I had recorded our fight. Yes, but pleasant things will still be remembered, and unpleasant things are closer to the truth that manifests itself in these conditions, closer to the blessed weakness that makes us human (30).

The author sees this picture: a doctor who wants to win another mile; tired Dunn, counting on a halt, and "by the grace" of the doctor forced to drag himself another mile; not his best attack; resentment of the boss, who, of course, is annoyed with himself for having missed a good place and stopped in a bad one. The choice of the path and the choice of the parking place are constant reasons for disputes in the northern expeditions of the author.

First, the Prince laid down the grizzly, then Cook shot the caribou. He remarks with humor: “Because of this incident, I was known as a sniper, and in the future our pantry was never empty, but I never again risked my reputation as a marksman” (22). And here, if I may say so, is Cook's lyrical digression:

In this northern country, where sunset meets dawn, people are exposed to all the forces of nature, and the campfire is very close. There is something in the crackle of a fire, in the tongues of fire and long frosty twilight nights, that makes everyone open up to their companions. In a club, a person can outwardly be a great guy, covering his selfish essence with feigned sincerity and feigned friendliness. But in the northern wilderness this is not possible. Undisguised masculinity, hidden under clothes, which are taken off in the evenings and dried by the fire, inhaling the aroma of coniferous forests and listening to the music of forest rustles, this is the first thing that every traveler needs.

If a person was an artist and his life obeyed the system and order, he will certainly deserve the admiration of his companions, because he is able to emit a light that dispels fatigue and apathy from hard work. But a random person, leading the life of a corrupt scribbler, complaining about his fate, taking on any job for money, hiding interesting observations from others, makes life tedious with his egoism. As a means of revealing a person's character, the campfire surpasses the confessional (22).

More than once in the book about McKinley, Cook mentions the far North Pole, draws parallels and compares. This is understandable: he is thinking about the cherished point. An example is the entry for August 9:

In the morning we loaded our belongings onto the horses and began to cut a path through a wide belt of tall trees. The tonzone broke up here into several fast-flowing channels. To start each crossing, it was necessary to mount a horse. Soon everyone became great experts in this kind of forcing rivers. Things were packed in waterproof bags, and before the horse entered the water, it was necessary to jump on the croup behind the bags with a run. If the transition involved a swim, which often happened, then you had to hold on to the ropes securing the load on the back of the horse. When crossing the Tonzona with its coffee waters, two channels turned out to be very deep. On one of them, having lost a lot of time looking for a ford, we finally jumped on horses for a swim. The fast current carried people and animals for a long time. Two horses were turned upside down in the middle of the channel, and their riders had to get ashore on their own so that the horses followed them. It was a warm sunny day, but this swim in glacial water made us feel like travelers on the way to the pole.

With wet clothes and boots full of water, we continued on our way. There was no time to change, and no spare clothes, for these crossings were so frequent that being soaked through was considered one of the prerequisites for the trip to McKinley. After the swims, we dusted ourselves off and hurried forward, getting warm and drying as we walked. Men quickly get used to this way of life and enjoy it, but at first you can hear a lot of blasphemous statements (22).

Dunn's article:

We make trembling horses go up 2,000 feet and down 2,000 feet for eight hours a day, over and over and over again; always northeast towards McKinley. "God, I see Seattle," Fred will say upstairs, "let's go to the dance tonight." Hiram will repeat the rhyme about the 10,000 subjects of the French king, and the Doctor, who always stops at an inconvenient place to eat blueberries, will gasp: "Good training for McKinley."

We reached a high fork, made a circle in the mist, and came to the same two glacial streams that we had recently crossed. Fred, getting impatient with the reloading, said something abruptly when I called out, "Let's try going towards McKinley." We are lost; that day we should have already reached the foot of this huge mountain. "Doc and Almighty set it up," Miller said, "we weren't supposed to get there on the 13th." The next day we crossed two watersheds - two glacial rivers. We climbed the third watershed under continuous drizzling rain. I again began to fear for myself (30).

Despite everything, they were approaching McKinley, and now Dunn smiles:

End of introductory segment.

* * *

The following excerpt from the book Frederick Cook on top of the continent. Returning McKinley to the Great American (D. I. Shparo, 2016) provided by our book partner -

Frederick Cook on top of the continent. We return McKinley to the great American. Reckless venture Travel and expeditions

Review by the Honorary President of the Russian Geographical Society Vladimir Kotlyakov

Who is this book for?

Dmitry Shparo
Frederick Cook on top of the continent. Returning McKinley to the Great American

* * *

Foreword

Introduction

Part 1
Way to the top

Chapter 1
In Greenland with Piri

Chapter 2
In the Antarctic ice with Amundsen

* * *

* * *

Read also:

Recent Entries

Frederick Cook on top of the continent. We return McKinley to the great American. Reckless venture Travel and expeditions

Review by the Honorary President of the Russian Geographical Society Vladimir Kotlyakov

Who is this book for?

Dmitry Shparo Frederick Cook on top of the continent. Returning McKinley to the Great American

* * *

Foreword

Introduction

Part 1 Way to the top

Chapter 1 In Greenland with Piri

Chapter 2 In the Antarctic ice with Amundsen

* * *

* * *

Read also:

Physical and chemical properties of halogens

Questions and tasks Models and modeling

Learning parts of speech: what questions does the adverb in Russian answer and what does it mean

Recent Entries

Dmitry Shparo
Frederick Cook on top of the continent. Returning McKinley to the Great American

Part 1
Way to the top

Chapter 1
In Greenland with Piri

Chapter 2
In the Antarctic ice with Amundsen