Born in 1820, the eldest son of prominent parents (his father was a federal judge in Philadelphia), Kane was short and slender, with fine features, impeccable manners, and a rebellious streak. His rush to glory began when he was a freshman at the University of Virginia. He contracted rheumatic fever, a disease that attacks the lining of the heart. In his case, the damage was so severe that a doctor told him he could die “as suddenly as a musket shot.” He fell into a protracted depression. A remark by his father brought him around: “Elisha, if you must die, die in the harness.”

From then on, the young man lived with a sense of urgency: much to do, not much time to do it in. At Penn’s medical school, he was considered the brightest student in his class. After graduation, he wasted no time. With his father’s help, he wangled a job as medical officer for a diplomatic mission to China. On holiday in the Philippines, he performed his first great stunt. Tethered to a rope held by guides, he swung down into a live volcano to collect a sample of sulphur water. Local pygmies gave this exploit a Tarzan-of-the-Apes twist by raging against the insult to the volcano’s indwelling god.

After a tour of duty in the navy, Kane went to Washington, hoping to pull more strings. There he probably made contact with a fellow Pennsylvania native, Secretary of State James Buchanan. The young man’s timing couldn’t have been better. The United States was at war with Mexico, and President Polk wanted to smuggle a message to his commanding general in the field, Winfield Scott. Kane got—and successfully performed—the assignment. Then, attached to a scouting party in Mexico, he made another splash: In a fight with sabers, lances, and guns, he not only routed the opponents but also patched up the wounded, including himself. On his return to Philadelphia, he was greeted as a hero.

Next he was off to the Arctic. This phase of Kane’s life, which began in 1850 and lasted until the end, was occasioned by the disappearance of English explorer Sir John Franklin while searching for the elusive Northwest Passage. Under Franklin’s command, two ships had set sail in 1845; nothing had been heard from them since. The First U.S. Grinnell Expedition, to which Kane was detailed as surgeon, failed to find the missing Brits, but Kane came back infatuated with the Arctic. The account he wrote of the voyage was a warm-up for his later masterpiece about his own expedition.