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But Collins brightened when Scarsdale told him he needed someone he could trust to maintain the house while he was abroad and with the promise of a bonus in addition to complete sovereignty over the large domestic staff of ten which ran the place, he went about his duties with renewed vigour.

All went as Scarsdale had planned. I had no-one or nothing in particular to keep me in England and so it was no great hardship for me to forsake my native shore for a protracted period; all the other members of the expedition were bachelors — no doubt specially chosen by the Professor for that reason — and the only person among us who had the least tie was Holden, who had become engaged to be married a short while before I arrived at The Pines.

Scarsdale and Van Damm supervised the loading of the tractors; how the Professor avoided national press mention during this phase of the operation I never did discover. He had, I believe, given out originally that the Great Northern Expedition was to carry out tests in Europe before going to the Arctic and it may be that these latest manoeuvres were thought of little public interest, the newspapers reserving coverage for the expedition proper. I remained at The Pines with our three companions, where we concluded our packing and other minor tasks while awaiting the return of the two leaders from Dover.

The whole party flew out three days later to Italy by flying boat; we were accommodated at a private hotel near Ostia and, with the arrival of our precious vehicles a day or so after, carried out the sand trials as Scarsdale had decreed. We were there no more than a week and it would sorely overburden this narrative if I went into great detail over the tests, except to say that they were highly satisfactory.

Scarsdale and Van Damm also were extremely pleased with results, so much so that they occasionally forgot to bicker and our farewell dinner in Rome was such a convivial occasion that they even posed for a friendly photograph for one of the Continental society magazines. I thought I had acquitted myself fairly well; I had piloted my tractor up and down the dunes with a minimum of fuss and problems. In fact all four machines had handled extremely well and we had also tested the rubber boats in a fair breeze off Ostia one afternoon and results here had been pleasing. Scarsdale was particularly concerned over the short-wave radio links and the air conditioning units and the results again in both these departments had given us all cause for satisfaction.

The tractors were then driven to the docks at dead of night and loaded on to a freighter, destination unknown to us at the time. We also took passage on the same vessel and all public records of the Great Northern Expedition of 1933 then ceased. Where we went and exactly where we disembarked I am still not at liberty to disclose to the world and I will leave the reader to judge whether or not I have done that same world a disservice.

The fact remains that I did not — I dare not — be more specific and the reasons for this will emerge during the course of this narrative. The colours will inevitably grow more sombre with the drawing near of our party to that cursed country and those cursed mountains. The reader will appreciate by what I have already said that we went not to the north, but to the east. And at our going all the humour, the sunshine and the friendly comradeship that we had enjoyed amid the misty hills of Surrey seemed to evaporate as though they had never existed.

This is not to say that we did not remain kind to one another or that we no longer worked together as a coherent team, but that on our disembarkation from our long voyage, which lasted over a month, a sense of strain, a waiting expectancy and — eventually- a covert watching for something, had replaced the easy companionship of the earlier months. We disembarked in dismal conditions of tropical heat, we engaged porters, we started for the interior.

Further weary weeks passed; weeks in which heat, insects and petty pilfering among the porters were our principal worries I am at liberty to say that we bordered Tibet but from there onwards nothing would induce me to reveal our destination We pushed ahead for weeks more, the weather becoming cooler as we rose higher among the foothills. The lush, semi-tropical vegetation was giving way to more arid landscapes in which rock, ice-cold mountain streams and ancient beds of volcanic ash abounded. The colder weather was, of course, a relief after the sticky heat of the plains and we benefited greatly from this.

The four tractors behaved well and we were able to maintain an average speed of about 10 miles an hour on the mountain tracks, which was exceptionally good for this type of terrain. In fact so impressive was the performance that I once overheard Scarsdale praising Van Damm’s design capabilities to his face. Looking back on it all I often wonder if something was not assisting nature to draw us inexorably forward to our sombre destination. Who knows? Certainly, a pulsing rhythm, which seemed to have a life of its own was the drum-beat which underlined the thin, high scream of the dynamos which propelled us forward daily, ever higher, ever onwards, ever towards the dark, menacing line of the distant mountains. There, Scarsdale said, we should pay off our porters and establish a provisional base at the ancient city of Zak.

Five

1

We reached Zak on September 1st and there, with much haggling and grumbling the porters were paid off. I, will describe this old walled town with its Moorish-style architecture at some length a little later. For the moment we were tired with our long journey and the constant pull of the levers over the mountain trails induced a sort of sickness in those of us who had been driving. We were able, naturally, to rest at periods during the day, as we had to halt frequently to allow the porters to catch up with us, but nevertheless it was a blessed relief to learn that Scarsdale intended to stay here a week.

We would be able to enjoy fresh fruit and vegetables again as the people of this high plateau had conditions necessary for husbandry and were renowned in the area for the quality of their provisions. We would need to conserve our strength also, for the first of our tests was before us. In a small and necessarily brief council of war the Professor held in his command tractor on the evening of our arrival, he informed us that we would be setting out across the desert to Nylstrom, the last inhabited place before we jumped off into the unknown.

This was no less than 200 kilometres away and I looked at the Professor with something approaching awe; for had he not told me something of his previous explorations in this area? And, if I had heard him aright, he would at that time have been proceeding on foot. Even with the help of the porters who had remained on the mountain and who were no doubt familiar with the desert, it was a formidable achievement. I remembered Robson’s friend and his talk of the Professor’s ‘hikes’; formidable indeed. I looked at him again with even greater respect, if that were possible.

For the next few days we enjoyed such amenities the town was able to offer. We lived in the tractors, of course, but were able to supplement our somewhat monotonous tinned diet with the fruit and vegetables for which Zak was locally famous; Van Damm and the others worked on the maintenance of the tractors, in preparation for the desert crossing, while I recorded our new surroundings on film. The Professor held several conferences during the week we were resting and though he and the others went into great detail on the technical problems we might encounter, not once did anyone deal directly with what faced us or indeed what was the exact purpose of the Great Northern Expedition.