Expedition 1910
Expedition 1910
Journal of Walter Macklin, surgeon of the New Pathway Expedition
June 9, 1910
I said goodbye to Martha today. She seemed a touch sad to see me go, however it has always been my life's dream to travel to the Arctic landmass and she has known this since we first met. Though a more or less arranged marriage was not the most romantic, we have grown rather attached despite our differences.
I was ecstatic to be selected to serve on Captain Ross's ship. We will be traveling to west of Novaya Zemlya, follow the coastline, and then the crew will attempt to walk directly across the top of the world to be picked up by the team in Canada.
It was difficult to contain my enthusiasm when I finally saw the ship. It is top of the line, that is for certain. From my short stay in the Navy, I could tell that it was unlike any other that I had seen. Her name is the Polaris and she certainly is a special ship. I was concerned that pack ice would pile up around the ship, but there is no chance of that happening to our fine vessel. The Polaris will surly be able to crush even the toughest ice on the sea!
I was greeted by Captain Ross himself as soon as I arrived at port. He's a fine fellow with a weathered face, and he is unquestionably one of the tallest German shepherds I had ever seen, certainly taller than I. Though I had never served with him in the Navy, I have heard much of him.
Captain Ross greeted me quickly as he was in the midst of examining the food supplies. We were to use canned food on this trip. I had my own, small stock of preserves from my sister, but I don't think that I will have to use them at any point during the trip as we have more than enough canned food to last us for the duration.
In a matter of hours, the whole crew was onboard. They all seem to be fine men with no medical problems and they are all from different backgrounds. The crew consists of foxes, dogs of the usual sorts, stoats, wolves, some typical cats, and several lynxes. I will still have to help out on the ship with clearing away ice from the deck and such sundry chores, but I don't foresee my medical expertise coming in great use for the crew. Perhaps some frostbite or a twisted ankle at the worst will occur on our expedition.
June 11, 1910
I watched off the stern of the ship as England finally disappeared. Seems a long way off already, but I am very eager to be on the way as was the rest of the crew. We uncovered a few stowaways within a couple of hour's time. The corgi, Nathanial, was discovered hiding in one of the life boats, while his fox friend was found hiding in the lower levels. Captain Ross decided that they are to stay on the ship until we reach our destination in the polar ice north of western Russia. At that time, they are to sail back with the skeleton crew to England. I don't suppose they will be of much help since neither of them have much sailing expertise. They made a foolish choice and put stress on the expedition, but there should be no harm done.
June 19, 1910
Today one of the young stowaways, Nathaniel's fox friend, received some rather nasty rope burn. He was trying to help out on deck by grabbing onto a moving rope or some such and now has some painful abrasions on his paws. I brought the young lad into my quarters and put a little antiseptic and a bandage over his paws to prevent infection. I told him that I understood how excited he was over a crew of veteran adventurers making their way across the seas and that I probably would have tried the same thing when I was his age, but I advised him to keep a low profile below decks from now on.
He nodded his head and said, "Thanks uh... Doctor Mac.. cullin!" before he ran back up on to the top deck.
Hopefully he and his friend will manage to stay out from underfoot.
July 9, 1910
A crewman came in today complaining that he was feeling sluggish and that he had a sour stomach. I assumed it was from a cold. We are all in such confined quarters; I was sure that something such as that would be going around. When I listened to his lungs, I found no signs of congestion. This alarmed me as the poor sot can hardly stand!
I wrote it up as exhaustion, though I doubt that there is any way in such a fit individual can become so severely tired. I told the captain of the matter and we both agreed that he should be confined to his quarters for a day. Another crew member came to me today as well complaining of insomnia and sluggishness. I find this sickness quite alarming.
On another note, the coast of the Novaya Zemlya was sighted today. This is a sign that we are getting close to our landing, should only be a week or two until we are to begin sailing north and then eventually continue on foot.
July 19, 1910
We have finally reached the point in our journey where we are to leave the Russian coastline, however we are stranded in the ice! The weather is truly horrendous; I can hardly believe that anyone can stay on deck or attempt to chip away at the ice especially with the exhaustion all of them seem to be experiencing! Even I feel that it is hard to get up in the morning and even harder to perform my meager tasks on the ship. Just clearing some of the ice off the deck left me quite tired and I had to take a short nap afterward which failed to refresh me as I was suffering from a pounding headache.
So far, 6 of the crewmen are stuck in their beds and are unable to do any work at all and everyone else is only just barely able to perform their duties. Everyone seems to be on edge. I hear crewmen snap at each other constantly. The young stowaways are coming in handy for once as they are some of the only able bodied members on the ship. However no amount of enthusiasm will clear the ice from around The Polaris.
Captain Ross came into my quarters today to discuss the problem with me. He was visibly shaking, betraying how nervous he is.
"Walter, these are healthy, and carefully selected men aboard this ship, I don't understand what has come over them. Even I feel tired and I've stayed awake for days and not felt this drained. It's hard for me to sleep and I just don't feel like we can make it out of this safely. I suppose having the men work on forcing a passage through the ice is not for the best. Do you have any idea what else could be causing them to become so tired?" he asked.
I admitted that I knew of no illnesses which can cause exhaustion and insomnia with no other detectable symptoms. I would like to think it is just nerves. But, the captain had piqued my curiosity as to what was causing our problems.
When Captain Ross left, I scoured through my small library looking for some kind of answer. I found nothing in my books on general treatment. Seeing as how I can only perform one task for the day before this mysterious succubus drains me of energy, I will spend quite a bit of my time searching for what is causing our illness.
July 23, 1910
We are completely encapsulated in ice. A single movement in the massive icepack could crush the hull of The Polaris like an eggshell. However the ice and cold are the least of our worries as I now know what ails the crew. I called in Captain Ross and explained to him what I had found. He noticed the unopened rations on my desk and the little tools that I had used to test them before he turned his attention to me.
"Captain," I whispered "this is a horrible discovery that I have made."
Captain Ross quietly closed the door to my quarters. He pulled up the small chair from my desk and sat down with a concerned look on his muzzle. His usually friendly gaze looked worried. Though I was wishing what I divulged was untrue, I knew that it was the only answer.
"Captain, the entire crew of this ship is experiencing the symptoms of some kind of heavy metal poisoning," I said though I prayed that it was a mistake.
"I see that you haven't eaten your share of the rations today. My guess is it is in our food supply?" he surmised.
"The cans, they were not made correctly. The tins are sealed with lead solder and I imagine that having them bottled up for so long has allowed the lead to slowly seep into the food. I'm afraid that all of our canned rations should be considered contaminated," I confessed.
Captain Ross didn't look frightened. It seemed to me that he was not only thinking of a way to free the ship from its icy prison, but also how to make it back to any kind of civilization with less than a third of our rations safe to eat. He didn't move his warm brown eyes from the floor after I told him about the lead, but he was still nervously quaking. I now realize this is a sign of lead exposure.
"Is there any way that you know of to make this food safe again? Can we wash it perhaps?" he asked.
I felt so helpless. Curing all of the men of their current state would be simple back in England. Heavy metal poisoning takes time, and I'm not sure how much lead is in only one can. Higher amounts would certainly speed up the process. I told him that I wasn't sure if washing the food would work. I told him the only solution would be to lock up the poisoned food and only serve the dried food we have. I also recommended that the entire crew drink as much water as possible.
Captain Ross grunted and said, "Lucky we're trapped in ice then. I'll have the crew melt some of it so that we can drink it. I don't think we have much food that is safe if what you're telling me is true. With a crew of 24, we would only have enough safe food for... two weeks at most with minimal rations. I don't have much of an appetite; I don't suppose you do either. We certainly don't have enough food to make it back to England; we'll have to try to walk if we don't make it out of this ice. At least we're drifting south. We may hit the northern, hinterlands of Russia within a few days."
I had a terrible secret that I was keeping. The food my sister provided me is now critical. There is so little of it that I don't think it would feed me for longer than a week and a half at only one meal a day. I have all of it hidden underneath my bed.
Captain Ross and I are the most critical personnel on this ship, Sir Ross needs to lead the men and make important decisions that affect all of us, and I have to tend after the sick men. Keeping all of it to myself would make me into no better than a monster if crewmembers started dying. I would just as detestable as a dragon sleeping on his mountain of gold. That is why I divulged my secret to the captain.
Captain Ross's ears perked up and he demanded that I show him my stores. I unveiled my wealth and he looked over all of it as if it were sheer poison. I suppose it is. If the crew members catch wind of it, there is certain to be a mutiny when things get dire. They are already seeming to crack as is.
"Doctor Macklin, I am commandeering this food. It shall remain in your room, however. You are to eat it only when you feel that you are on the verge of starvation, and I will access it only when I am on that same threshold. You are not to discuss it, nor have it visible, or allow it to be discovered by any of the other crewmembers except for me. That's an order," he quietly commanded. Now that I think of it, this must be the quietest order that any commanding officer has ever uttered.
I showed my support of his wise decision by quietly saying, "Aye aye."
July 25, 1910
Nathanial stumbled into my quarters today. He bumped into the door frame and walk in like a drunk. He was trying to say something, but all I could make out was, "Daw... daw... doc... head, no... help... buh..." before he fell to the floor and started to convulse. There was nothing I could do for him. I felt so helpless. I had some crewmen hold him down and protect his head.
When his seizure pass, I had him slep in my room so I could monitor him. When he woke up, I note that he was having trouble forming sentences. It was as if he had Broca's aphasia. I was able to gather that he had been stealing the contaminated food and eating it. He was trying to save the crew by eating canned food instead of the dried food in secret. It was a noble thought, but lead exposure at his age is far worse than it is for someone at my age. It stays with him in his bones.
I had the crewmen throw all of the contaminated food overboard. It was a hard order for them to follow. They were most unruly. The conduct of the temporarily able bodied crewmembers convince me to stay in my room as much as possible. I'm having trouble writing all of this down. The pecil keeps slipping.
July 27, 1910
As I help lynx crewmember with his lead shakes, he turn on me violently. He pushe my paws away and start yell and holler at me about stealing his share of the food or some such. He tear my room apart.
He flip my mattress and unveiled my hoard of food. Without a moment's hesitation he pull out his revolver and helt it my head.
"You... you ba... bastard! Steal food... hiding rat!" he murderously snarled.
Held still with fright when he decided not to shoot me, and instead push me to the floor and pistol whip me. I tried to fight him off, but my limbs were so unresponsive. With every hit from his gun I could feel the cold steel slice me. Stings on my nose, my head, my gums. Nothing I do defend myself.
I open my mouth to scream for help only to find the lynx had brought his paw down for another blow. Paw mouth and took out a tooth, but I had him. Though I loose the strength to wrestle with him, I still had the strength to bite.
A new metallic taste fill my mouth when I gnash at his limb with my broke teeth and uttered the most threatening growl I could manage. His screaming finally attracted the other crewmen and they pulled him off of me.
They all saw the food once the man was restrained. Tore at it like animals to a kill, each runn off with the biggest share they could manage, fighting for it. It was a matter of seconds before it was all gone. They slammed my door shut and blockaded it somehow and I am now trapped in my room.
All is not lost however; I still have a few jar of food in my desk. I had thought ahead and selfishly hid it. As I was hungry for the first time in days, I ate some of it before applying some astringent to my woudns.
July 28, 1910
I hear gunshot hourly, even night. Crew is hallucination, or going some kind of delirium and kill each other off for food. I just glad that they seem have forgorn me in here.
Really feel lethargy affect me. I hav abdominal cramps, lack of appetite, and a bad tast in my moth. Reminding me of tin. Very bad. I feel relly tired and want sleep so I take pill. Relly tired and sleep. No pencil. Talk to Martha.
July 30, 1910
Still fell bad. Nate came into my room and open it. He says we're leave. I got water and crew follow me. 7 men live. Mostly dead frozen to floor blood. Commander Ross die shoot in chest food fight. Sad to hear. Burners empty now, no ashes. we are at land though. So we leave now with food in bag find people at home.
Jly 31, 1190
Trip go good for time. Smok far in chimney. White in my eyes ware goggles. Me, corgi fall behind. I break my foot so they go. Crew fall ice pit. Scream while then halt. Sad now we saw fall. Nate with me he cold so we huld on close. Scared but warm love natel. Good want son. Miss Marta home. Warmnaaw slep.
Day One, 1910
It has been some time now since my last entry. That I can see. I have no idea what the date is, however I am much better now it seems. All I have seen of my surroundings is the inside of some kind of skin derived tent and the occasional glance outside when the flap is opened by Nenay, my caretaker.
She speaks a native language which has no relation to Russian whatsoever. The only way I was able to find any information was to speak to the village shaman in my broken Russian. Apparently I am currently in a village called Vel't with no more than 20 other inhabitants.
As for the crew, I am saddened to hear that not a single one has survived. They found me curled up next to Nathanial and took me back here. Nathanial was frozen solid, so he was left and I was taken back. The poor lad just had too much. I guess I was having some sort of fancy that he was my son. Though these feelings are contrived, they stay with me just as if they were real. Though we are of no relation, I miss him.
Other than names and Nathanial's demise, the only other bit of information I could gather was about Nenay and that I was given some sort of potion to revive me by the shaman. I don't believe in their sort of medicine, but I cannot argue with the results. There is a binding agent in the drink perhaps? That or it was so vile that it flushed out my system, in which case I owe Nenay a great deal.
I suppose since I cannot move due to the condition of my ankle, I will have to spend quite some time describing the interior of the tent and Nenay. It would be best to take my time to describe everything in detail as I have nothing else to do.
Day Two, 1910
Nenay Yar is an interesting person to be sure. She is a wolf, as are all of the residents of Vel't. What strikes me the most are her heterochromatic eyes and perfectly white fur. I can hardly see how she is a widow. Perhaps it is a custom that the widows and widowers not remarry? If that is the case, I feel sorry for Nenay as she is in the prime of her life.
She seems to carry herself well as she has a heavy build. She fishes and hunts whatever on earth we're eating. I feel rather helpless being taken care of by a woman. She reminds me of a personal nurse of sorts, however she is in my life far earlier than I had expected!
Nenay is very careful when she changes my dressings. She seems a bit stressed when I show any pain, so I try not to convey anything but gratitude while she works. She may have even learned a thing or two from seeing me tend to my ankle.
She has a very caring personality. Perhaps it's all just captured in her smile and eyes. She will talk to me in her native language and she is even working on learning some Russian from the other villagers so we can communicate better. Today she even asked me my name and how I felt. Well, she thought repeating my name over and over was great fun, so whenever she sees me she says, "Valta " and giggles.
I was really surprised when she started sleeping next to me! I was quiet cold at night, so I suppose that is why she is resorting to this. It's almost kind of childish and innocent. I certainly can't argue with living like a kind of king.
We attempt to talk to each other, but we generally just end up working on dinner together. She watches me as I write in my journal with great fascination. She doesn't have any books or anything of that sort, so I suppose she can't read. Her language must not have a writing system! No wonder I look odd when I'm scribbling away.
Day Three, 1910
I really do appreciate how warm this tent structure is. I can hardly believe it. I suppose the seal skins act as a very effective wind barrier. I also can appreciate the furs which I am wrapped in. They're far better than what I might find in any shop in England. I feel a little guilty as she works all day to support me while I just take up space. At least my ankle is getting a little bit better. I had to peek under my wrappings to see it, but I would say it is healing well enough. I'll never be able to walk on it properly though. I tried to reposition the bones into a better alignment, but it was very painful.
As I was struggling to repair the damage done, Nenay wandered in and was all in a fluster over what I was doing to myself. Little does she know that my bones might fuse in a bad position! She saw the pain that I was in and urged me to stop, so I did as I certainly do not wish to upset her. I suppose they are in good enough order anyway.
Her Russian is getting far better and very understandable. I don't think there is any way for her to learn it so rapidly. I think that at some time she may have spoken it many years ago, but suddenly stopped. Perhaps her husband spoke it?
I asked her over our fish stew dinner all sorts of questions and as I have nothing else to do, I wrote down our conversation in its entirety, filling in as necessary of course.
"Nenay," I asked, "What do you do in the village?"
"I'm not {in the village}," she said, "I {am on the} outside, not trusted."
"Why is that?" I inquired.
"I am a widow. {Because of} my eyes {they} feel that I killed my husband. They think {that I am a} witch with bad luck," She confessed.
"I don't think you are a witch. You are a very nice person," I said.
She covered her face to hide her embarrassment before saying, "Valter! You {are too} kind. I love {your} foreign face. You {are} handsome."
I thanked her for her kindness and the meal, but I couldn't shake off what she had said. Why hadn't I told her that I was married? I don't know how to explain this. I love Martha, I really do. But, I have feelings for Nenay that I've never had for Martha. I might be found one day, so I will remain faithful. I shall tell Nenay tomorrow. We have spent quite a bit of time together and I think she will handle the news well.
Day Four, 1910
I'm writing this all down because I don't want to be found. This journal is only for me and no one else. There are already things in this journal that no one back in England should ever know. Men acting dishonorably, desperation; none of this needs to be in a newspaper.
I wanted to tell Nenay how I felt, but my plans went awry as soon as she stepped back in for dinner. I simply could not resist the way that she looked at me. She dropped down next to me and gazed at me with her hypnotizing eyes before lightly kissing the side of my face.
Her kiss rendered me even more helpless than usual. I lovingly pulled her close when she laid down next to me.
"I love you Valta," she whispered, "Your foreign face is handsome. {You are a} nice man."
I had no way to respond to this. I was conflicted. Luckily Nenay decided the path I should take by kissing me again. It was a far deeper kiss this time. I loved the feel of our teeth clacking together as we explored each other with our paws.
Although there was a horrible war raging in my brain, I could not stop myself from slipping a paw down Nenay's body. She is beautiful. No where else could I find such a sleek and lethal wild woman. When I felt her fur start to change I knew that I was close. She yipped quite loudly and shuddered as I ran a finger over her sensitive folds. She wasn't ready for me, so I suppose that must have been a touch too rough for the lass.
I removed my offending paw and noticed that she was panting heavily. She stared at my face for but a moment, but in that short amount of time I was able to see so much. It must have been years since someone has touched her like that, or even kissed her. She wanted to be with me more than anything else in her life. When she saw me, and saw that I was different like her, she needed to bond with me.
She kissed me again before moving under the covers. I couldn't see her, but I could feel her unbuttoning my pants and working at my belt. She figured it out and had them off in no time.
I moaned loudly as she began to frantically lap at my entire crotch. Her tongue was dampening the fur of my inner thighs and stroking my testicles. Martha would never do something like that; no woman would ever do something like that! I was beside myself with lust.
A gasp escaped my lips when her warm tongue went over the tip of my erection. I moved the furs and blankets up to see her grab a hold my swollen sheath and begin to devour the red tip. The pleasure was too much within just a few seconds, so I growled and guided her head away, but I had no idea what foreign delight was in store for me next!
Nenay moved her white muzzle down lower to lick my testicles again like before. However, she then moved even further down and ran her tongue over my backside! It was with great intensity that she lapped between my legs. With my paws on her head I could feel every motion of her tongue as it was thrust out of her mouth. I cried out and let my head loll backwards as I enjoyed this wickedly deviant wonder.
I allowed myself to let all sorts of pathetic and desperate sounds escape my muzzle. She was destroying all of any will that I had of resisting her. Her paw gently massaging my entire erection was just throwing fuel on the fire.
When she finally stopped, she moved back up my body to lie on her side and pant. I couldn't contain my self as I moved over to take her. Never, not ever before, had I so dearly wanted to lay with a woman. I stopped caring about whether I would enjoy it or whether she would because my thoughts were focused on nothing more than driving myself into her as fast as my fatigued and mangled body would allow.
My advance was stopped short the moment I applied the slightest bit of pressure to my ankle. I yipped in pain and returned to my back. There simply was no way for me to engage in my lustful fantasy. I looked at her helplessly as I considered my options.
Nenay obliged me be moving the covers off of me and grabbing on to my slightly diminishing erection. She took a bit of the pre-ejaculate off of my tip and rubbed it into herself, a move which I found terribly exotic and arousing, before moving up on my body. She guided me to her hot entrance and it was within an instant that she had hilted herself all the way up to my growing knot.
The ferocity with which we moved our bodies against each other was only complemented by our feral snarls and howls of delight. With every movement we were battering away my memories of England, my wife, my money. There was and is nothing more important in my life than the relationship Nenay and I share.
I approached my climax very rapidly. I grabbed Nenay's shoulders and forced her down the length of my member and over the entirety of my knot in one swift and determined move. Now that we were tied, I climaxed hard and felt myself spilling into Nenay. I curled my head against my chest and rumbled with ecstasy as I filled her sweet and fertile womb with my seed.
I wanted to shower all of the affection on Nenay that I could, so I aggressively rubbed and stroked her folds until she had an orgasm that left her helpless. I could feel her passage clench rhythmically as she cried out and pulled against our tie.
When we finally came down from our shared heights, Nenay gazed into my eyes again like she always does and I forgot entirely why I had ever lived anywhere else, or whether my existence had any meaning without her. I gave her nose a single lick to show her just how much I had grown to love her in such a short amount of time. She sighed and gave my nose a lick in return before we both fell asleep.
Journal of Sir James Mackintosh, August, 23, 1920
Finding the wreckage of The Ploaris was a lucky break. It is no more than 5 kilometers from the fishing village of Vel't'. It is an interesting place to be sure. I arrived around noon in the village and was greeted enthusiastically by some wolves. This must be a very isolated population; therefore I was stunned to see a man with a cane which bared no resemblance to the others.
Upon reaching him, I saw that he was a German shepherd. Since the only other German shepherd on the trip, Captain Ross, was found dead in the wreckage of The Polaris, I assumed right away that it was Walter Macklin, the New Pathway Expedition's surgeon.
He was most displeased by my presence. I would even say he detested my being there. I informed him of what we found on the Polaris and that there are still some crewmen who are unaccounted for, as well as some children who were not listed on the crew manifest.
"The other crewmembers fell in a glacier," stated Walter, "The corgi's name is Nathanial, but I do not know of the young fox's name. Both of them were stowaways. The New Pathway Expedition failed due to lead solder being used to seal the cans causing it to enter our diets."
I knew of no other way to break bad news to Walter, so I just informed him upfront and proper like.
"Walter, I am sorry to say that you were listed as deceased in the papers. Therefore, Mrs. Macklin saw fit to remarry. I'm terribly sorry."
Suddenly a young boy with distinctive black and tan markings ran past my side to hug Walter's legs. He loving looked down at the young lad and patted him on the head.
"Don't be", was all he said.
I see now why Walter did not return to England. In my report I shall list him among the deceased and I will make no mention of the village of Vel't'. This page is to be destroyed.