Surviving Antarctica by Andrea White

Author:Andrea White [White,Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-06-206953-5
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2005-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

19

A SMALL OBJECT that Polly hadn’t noticed before stood in the distance. Or maybe it was a large object right next to her? Or perhaps an Antarctic mirage? She squinted at the object again. Could it be a plain metal pole that she and Billy were approaching? She had ridden quietly behind him on the snowcycle for several hours. The roar of the motor discouraged conversation.

Billy pulled up to the metal pole.

“Is that the meteorological stand?” Billy shouted, pointing at the pole.

“I think so,” Polly said.

Their map said that the stand was nine miles from Safety Hut. Although time was largely irrelevant here, Billy checked his watch. It was almost ten o’clock. Robert had slowed to keep pace with the dogs, but he had told Billy that he wanted him to stop after four hours. That meant that they would camp near the stand on their first night.

Starting in the 1950s scientists had monitored Antarctic temperatures. But after the Big Bust, when the government no longer had the funds for scientific exploration, the stands were abandoned. Polly couldn’t help remembering that on the Scott expedition, Birdie Bowers had recorded most of the weather data. Since gloved hands would be too clumsy to do the work, Polly imagined Birdie touching his thermometer with his bare hands. Even though Birdie had been the man on Scott’s team most impervious to cold, the daily temperature readings must have been agony.

Billy turned off the cycle. The plan was to set up camp before the others arrived.

Polly hopped off and tumbled into the snow. Her left foot was dead; it had no feeling at all. How had she failed to realize what was happening? She looked down at her green parka, now dusted with snow, and tears filled her eyes.

Billy stared at her.

“Billy,” she cried, pulling off her goggles.

“What’s wrong?”

“My foot.”

“What?”

“I’ve lost the feeling in my left foot. Can you boil some water quickly? I need to drink something hot.”

“Sure.”

Polly tried to get her boot off, but her hands were cold, and she found even this small task daunting.

Billy went to the sled and rummaged around in the bags. It felt like a long time to Polly, but eventually he pulled out the Primus, just as she slipped her foot out of her boot.

Polly couldn’t feel her foot, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was frostbitten, she reminded herself. But what if it was?

Billy fumbled, trying to light the stove.

“Take your time,” Polly said. This cold made accomplishing even the smallest tasks difficult. She kneaded her toes until they began to feel the way Polly did on being awakened by her mother too early.

“Darn!” Billy said as he tried to light a match. He blew on his fingers to warm them and tried again.

Polly pounded her foot with her fist.

On Scott’s expedition, Titus Oates’s foot had gotten frostbitten. It was clear that the remaining four men couldn’t carry Oates and still survive. Polly wished that for once the Memory would fail her and that she

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