DANGEROUS TRAIL

Dominion, Volume 23, Issue 34, 4 November 1929, Page 11

DANGEROUS TRAIL

JOURNEY OF BYRD’S ADVANCE PARTY TWO DAYS IN CREVASSED AREA NAVIGATOR’S GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION (United Press Association.—By Electric Telegraph.—Copyright.) (By Russell Owen.—Special to “New York Times.”) Bay of Whales, October 31. Messages from the supporting party, including Joe de Ganahl’s description of their two days in the crevassed area, show that they have taken their loads over the most dangerous part of the trail. When they return it will be with lighter sledges, for they took through that datigerous region supplies for Depot Four at 81 degrees 45 minutes South. There they turn back. Apparently the party found much worse travelling than did Amundsen on his journey seventeen years ago, for Amundsen went through the crevassed area three times when the vision was poor and without much trouble. The trip back to the northern edge to leave a warning for the ‘“snowmobile” was made at Byrd’s order, for although he had given instructions that the machine was not to go so far, he was afraid that they might be carried away by zeal and attempt too much. It is evident that no machine could pass such a treacherous and broken area. De Ganahl’s Radio Message. Joe de Ganahl, navigator of the supporting sledge party, sent the following radio message from just south of 80 degrees latitude:—“The peaceful barrier showed its sternest, when the monotony of one hundred and sixty miles’ unexciting sledging was broken by efforts to penetrate a maze of crevasses, covered chasms, and hollow haycocks, eleven miles south of the depot. Three tents were pitched tonight between two pitfalls three miles east of the scene of our escapes from whatever is below the countless hollow crusts over which we passed. The barrier trembles and roars occasionally as new traps open in this area, where the pressure of ice is equalised. From 81 degrees south this morning a long line of knolls, jagged peaks, and rolling domes glistened majestically on the crest of a hilltop stretching east andwest. Many Invisible Caverns. “We had gone five miles, when Bursey, who was leading the roped caravan, swung his sled to halt his dogs. They were on the roof of a round hollow pit fifty feet in diameter. There were many such invisible caverns on the ascent of the hill, some filled, and some bridged with snow, evidently craters of haycocks, opened by released pressure. Soon crevasses, a few open, some filled, and most roofed, crossed over the path. Five miles of dodging and rushing about brought us to a stop. ' To the south and west were graceful domes, fantastic peaks, and black shadows, ugly and forbidding lines of upheaved ice to the east. A deep valley was crossed and recrossed by scores of the great depressions we had learned to respect Saved by the Ropes. “Well roped, we planned a short reconnaissance on foot Walden stepped away from his sled into a crevasse, and sank down to the waist. He was pulled out again, and went down into a second. We reached a hilltop ridge running south-west between villages of "haycocks. We proceeded with the teams, and in five minutes we were shut in- by hollow domes, with every step on a thin, trembling roof. We crossed a safe-looking ridge and slid down ten feet from an open hole with blackness for a bottom, and turned the teams to the west. Bursey slipped over the brink of a pit as we crossed a narrow bridge between it and the haycocks, but the rope dragged him back. There was a hundred-foot hole to the left and countless haycocks to the right We followed a narrow highway west till a wide thinly-covered crevasse blocked our path to a hopeless area ahead. “There was no room to turn the team between the haycocks. Braathen roped, and on skis, tested the largest, and we rushed the dogs around and over the dome to retrace our steps a few hundred yards. Bursey stopped to fix the harness, and the surface sank under Braathen’s sled. The teams were hurried forward, and pulled him to a thicker roof. The route flag slipped through into space. Below everything was hollow. We tried vainly with many crevasses, but Braathen’s experi.enced short dodges brought us safe around. A day of perilous reconnoitring over a valley checkered with crevasses and a mountain of broken ice, pitted and honey-combed by pressure, brought us to the firm barrier at midnight to-day just as the fog closed in on what we believe to be the most treacherous area ever crossed in the Antarctic. Great Changes Since Amundsen’s Visit. “Great upheavals have taken place here since Amundsen’s time. Nothing he describes can compare with the last ten miles of our journey. It was a restless sleep for all, for every few hours we were awakened by thunder announcing the birth of a new crevasse and the shaking of the hollow snow beneath us. After an early breakfast Bursey and Braathen retraced their steps to the northern limit of the crevassed region to place a warning on the Barrier for the ‘snowmobile.’ Then Walden, Braathen, and I, roped, and on skiis worked our way over and around crevasses to the south-east, hoping to find an opening in a hope-less-looking range to the south. From a high ridge we had glimpses of the firm Barrier, but three miles of pitted mountain lay before us. After lunch Braathen, Bursey, and I proceeded on skiis in an effort to thread our way through between open back holes connected by covered crevasses everywhere. On approaching the range we finally found a narrow ridge between open chasms leading to a network of canyons on the summit of a large hollow area and camouflaged by a thin roof of ice. In three hours we marked a zigzag trail a mile and a half through the heart of the ridge and returned with doubts about our sledges getting over dubious bridges, shaip shoulders, and steep inclines. But there was no other way through, the hills being impassable to the east and west. The teams and men, roped separately, followed our ragged line of flags. Need for Expert Driving. It was a time for expert driving and obedient dogs. The veteran Walden said that he had never seen anything

like it, and the bridges were taxed to the limit. The dogs sensed the danger, and time and again disappeared in crevasses and were hauled out by their team mates. Bursey and his leader, St. Lunaire, worked in perfect accord, when a few feet to the right or the left would mean a dangling sled and driver. Walden's foresight, Braathen’s care, and Bursey’s driving and luck brought us to the end of the range, and a wide-open road boarded by crevasses, leading down to safe ground and a clean trail towards the midnight sun. We stopped and turned to view the area we had crossed before the fog set in. It seemed as if the gods had been playing with chalkcliffs and left them scattered and broken on the Barrier floor.” [Copyrighted 1928 by “New York Times” Company and “St. Louis Post-Dispatch.” All rights for publication reserved throughout the world.] WILKINS PARTY SAILS FOR DECEPTION ISLAND (Rec. November 3, 5.5 p.m.) Montevideo, November 2. Sir Hubert Wilkins and his party sailed on Friday in the supply ship Melville for Deception Island.