“Slow but steady,” he announced. “So far, so good.”
During the break, Chase was asked to check their position. Summerfield had been leading the way, and Chase quickly established that he had, in fact, erred from their desired course.
“We’re a bit too far to the west,” Chase told Johns. “An easy enough mistake.”
“Maybe so,” Johns replied. “Yet I wouldn’t have expected it from Summerfield of all people.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“He’s seemed rather distracted of late; therefore, I think I’ll take over the leading from now on, and I’ll make sure to confer regularly with you.”
“Righto, sir,” said Chase.
When the journey resumed, no more comments were heard about the litter being ‘unexpectedly light’. Instead the men fell into a solemn march, heads down against the wind, and kept their thoughts to themselves. In this manner they continued for the rest of the day. The miles dragged by, and there was little to distinguish one hour from the next. Occasionally Gribble would peek out from her recess as if taking note of their progress. Then her face would vanish once more. Otherwise she was rarely seen. At meal breaks it was always Summerfield who served her. Johns did not wholly approve of this arrangement but, as he said to Scagg, no one else ever offered to do it, so for the time being it might as well stand.
By dusk the pace had slowed noticeably. At six o’clock Johns paused and raised an arm. Immediately the entire party halted, unrolled the tent, and began setting up camp.
“Actually I was only adjusting my pack,” said Johns. “But I suppose this is as good a place to stop as any.”
♦
The days passed, and gradually their objective drew nearer. One morning, after breakfast, Sargent made a great show of inspecting the portable chair. He went from corner to corner, spitting on his hands before grasping each of the carrying poles to test the grip. When he’d finished he shook his head in a puzzled way, then wandered back to join his companions.
“What’s the matter, Sargent?” Johns enquired.
“Well, it’s very odd, sir,” came the reply. “But it seems to be heavier at the front left-hand corner.”
“You mean the corner you were carrying all day yesterday?”
“Yes, sir,” said Sargent. “I’ve tried all the other corners and mine’s definitely the heaviest. I just can’t understand it.”
“But you built the blasted thing!”
Sargent sighed deeply. “I know, sir,” he said. “That’s the worst part of it.”
“Well, take another corner then.”
“No, it’s all right, sir,” said Sargent. “I’ll keep my corner now I’m used to the weight. I’m just saying it’s heavier than the others, that’s all.”
“Sargent, would you like some chocolate?” said Plover suddenly.
Six startled faces turned towards him.
“Please don’t make jokes like that,” Johns uttered. “Not when we’re struggling on short rations. You really should know better, Plover.”
“It wasn’t a joke, sir.” Plover reached into his inside pocket and produced a complete bar of chocolate, still pristine in its wrapper. “I’ve been saving this since the expedition began,” he said. “I thought Sargent might enjoy a pick-me-up seeing as he’s having to endure extra hardship. As a matter of fact, there’s enough for everybody.”
A stunned silence followed, during which the bar was passed round amongst the men. It was divided into eight sections, and consequently there was one piece remaining at the end.
“Gribble can have that bit, if she wants,” said Plover.
“Are you sure?” said Summerfield.
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Would you like to hand it to her yourself then?”
“No, no. I’ll allow you that pleasure.”
“All right, well, thank you, Plover. That’s very nice of you.”
“Hear, hear,” agreed Johns. “Well done, Plover. Very well done indeed, and it so happens you’ve chosen the perfect moment for such a gesture. Chase and I have been keeping this next piece of news quiet so as not to raise false hopes, but I feel under the circumstances it’s safe to make an announcement. I’m pleased to tell everybody that we should reach the Furthest Point later today!”
At once a mighty cheer rose up, and the men all went round shaking hands with one another.
“On a cautionary note,” Johns added, “I think I should warn you of the possibility that Tostig may have beaten us to it. Now, as I’ve said from the start, this is not a race, and personally it makes no difference whether he gets there first or not. Nevertheless, I know a few of you might find such an outcome difficult to accept. Therefore, you should prepare yourselves for disappointment.”
“What will we do if he’s there to meet us?” asked Seddon.
“Congratulate him, of course,” Johns replied.
Gribble chose to mark the occasion by renewing her blue streaks (which Sargent referred to as ‘war paint’). She seldom left the confines of her litter any more, but this morning she made a brief appearance as the men strove to pack away the gear. For a short while she walked amongst them, nodding and smiling from time to time, until at last the inclement weather drove her back inside. She spoke quietly to Summerfield before withdrawing, and was not seen again for some hours. Subsequently, all efforts were concentrated on the journey ahead. If Johns’ prediction was to come true, they needed to get a move on, and everyone agreed that a smart pace was required. So it was that all of a sudden Chase, Sargent, Scagg and Plover grabbed hold of the litter and set off with it, leaving the other three labouring after them with the baggage. It turned out that this ‘jape’ had been secretly organised by Scagg, in order to maintain a light-hearted spirit in the face of hardship. Unfortunately, Johns did not seem to view it this way, since he was amongst those left behind, and when he caught up with the rest of the party his feathers were clearly ruffled. Saying nothing, he purposefully strode past them until he had reclaimed his position at the head of the column. Only after another hour did his indignation subside, at which time his comrades heard him whistling a merry tune.
“He’s happy now,” remarked Scagg. “We’re on the home straight.”
Despite this optimism, there was one last hitch. With only a mile to go, the dust thickened considerably, and Johns found it necessary to stop and check his bearings with Chase. This took a minute or so. Then, when the men raised the litter to move off again, Gribble began rocking it violently, forcing them to put it down.
“Gribble, what do you think you’re doing?” Johns demanded.
She opened the canopy and looked out.
“I wish to be borne aloft,” she answered.
“Don’t be so damned silly,” said Johns. “It’s hard enough carrying you as it is without you being awkward.”
“Very well,” said Gribble, stepping nimbly out of the litter. “I’m not going any further.”
“What?!”
“I wish to be borne aloft,” she repeated. “For the last mile.”
Johns clasped his hands together and regarded her patiently.
“Look, Gribble,” he said. “You really must try to be reasonable.”
“I can’t be reasonable!” she snapped. “I’m only a mule, remember. We don’t do reasonable things! All I know is that your mission cannot succeed without me; therefore, I’ll only go on if you agree to my wishes.”
They had come to an impasse, so Johns moved away and conferred quietly with Scagg.
“Why don’t we make a grab for her?” Scagg suggested. “Surely seven of us can manage that?”