LAND AT LAST
"Wednesday, July 24th. At last the marvel has come to pass--land,
land! and after we had almost given up our belief in it! After nearly
two years, we again see something rising above that never-ending white
line on the horizon yonder--a white line which for millennium after
millennium has stretched over this sea, and which for millenniums to
come shall stretch in the same way. We are leaving it, and leaving
no trace behind us, for the track of our little caravan across the
endless plains has long ago disappeared. A new life is beginning for
us; for the ice it is ever the same.
"It has long haunted our dreams, this land, and now it comes like a
vision, like fairly-land. Drift-white, it arches above the horizon like
distant clouds, which one is afraid will disappear every minute. The
most wonderful thing is that we have seen this land all the time
without knowing it. I examined it several times with the telescope
from 'Longing Camp' in the belief that it might be snow-fields, but
always came to the conclusion that it was only clouds, as I could never
discover any dark point. Then, too, it seemed to change form, which,
I suppose, must be attributed to the mist which always lay over it;
but it always came back again at the same place with its remarkable
regular curves. I now remember that dark crag we saw east of us at
the camp, and which I took to be an iceberg. It must certainly have
been a little islet [40] of some kind.
"The ice was worse and more broken than ever yesterday; it was,
indeed, a labor to force one's way over pressure-ridges like veritable
mountains, with valleys and clefts in between; but on we went in
good spirits, and made some progress. At lanes where a crossing was
difficult to find we did not hesitate to launch kayaks and sledges,
and were soon over in this manner. Sometimes after a very bad bit we
would come across some flat ice for a short distance, and over this
we would go like wildfire, splashing through ponds and puddles. While
I was on ahead at one time yesterday morning, Johansen went up on to
a hummock to look at the ice, and remarked a curious black stripe
over the horizon; but he supposed it to be only a cloud, he said,
and I thought no more about the matter. When, some while later, I also
ascended a hummock to look at the ice, I became aware of the same black
stripe; it ran obliquely from the horizon up into what I supposed
to be a white bank of clouds. The longer I looked at this bank and
stripe the more unusual I thought them, until I was constrained to
fetch the glass. No sooner had I fixed it on the black part than it
struck me at once that this must be land, and that not far off. There
was a large snow-field out of which black rocks projected. It was not
long before Johansen had the glass to his eye, and convinced himself
that we really had land before us. We both of us naturally became
in the highest spirits. I then saw a similar white arching outline a
little farther east; but it was for the most part covered with white
mist, from which it could hardly be distinguished, and, moreover,
was continually changing form. It soon, however, came out entirely,
and was considerably larger and higher than the former, but there
was not a black speck to be seen on it. So this was what land looked
like, now that we had come to it! I had imagined it in many forms,
with high peaks and glittering glaciers, but never like this. There
was nothing kindly about this, but it was indeed no less welcome; and
on the whole we could not expect it to be otherwise than snow-covered,
with all the snow which falls here.
"So then we pitched the tent and had a feast suited to the occasion:
lobscouse made of potatoes (for the last time but one; we had saved
them long for this occasion), pemmican, dried bear's and seal's flesh,
and bear tongues, chopped up together. After this was a second course,
consisting of bread-crumbs fried in bear's grease, also vril-food
and butter, and a piece of chocolate to wind up."
We thought this land so near that it could not possibly take long
to reach it, certainly not longer than till next evening. Johansen
was even certain that we should do it the same day, but nevertheless
thirteen days were to elapse, occupied in the same monotonous drudgery
over the drift-ice.
On July 25th I write: "When we stopped in the fog yesterday evening we
had a feeling that we must have come well under land. This morning,
when we turned out, the first thing Johansen did when he went to
fetch some water for me to cook with was, of course, to climb up on
the nearest hummock and look at the land. There it lay, considerably
nearer than before, and he is quite certain that we shall reach
it before night." I also discovered a new land to our west (S. 60°
W. magnetic) that day; a regular, shield-like, arched outline, similar
to the other land; and it was low above the horizon, and appeared to
be a long way off. [41]
We went on our way as fast as we could across lanes and rough ice,
but did not get far in the day, and the land did not seem to be much
nearer. In reality there was no difference to be seen, although we
tried to imagine that it was steadily growing higher. On Saturday,
July 27th, I seem to have a suspicion that in point of fact we were
drifting away from land, I write: "The wind began to blow from the
S.S.W. (magnetic) just as we were getting off yesterday, and increased
as the day went on. It was easy to perceive by the atmosphere that
the wind was driving the ice off the land, and land-lanes formed
particularly on the east side of it. When I was up on a hummock
yesterday evening I observed a black stripe on the horizon under
land; I examined it with the glass, and, as I had surmised, there
was an ice-edge or glacier stretching far in a westerly direction;
and there was plainly a broad lane in front of it, to judge by the
dark bank of mist which lay there. It seems to me that land cannot
be far off, and if the ice is tolerably passable we may reach it
to-day. The wind continued last night, but it has quieted down now,
and there is sunshine outside. We try by every means in our power to
get a comfortable night's rest in our new bag of blankets. We have
tried lying on the bare ice, on the 'ski,' and to-night on the bare
ice again; but it must be confessed that it is hard and never will
be very comfortable; a little chilly, too, when one is wet; but we
shall appreciate a good warm bed all the more when we get it.
"Tuesday, July 30th. We make incredibly slow progress; but we
are pushing our way nearer land all the same. [42] Every kind of
hinderance seems to beset us: now I am suffering so much from my back
(lumbago?) that yesterday it was only by exerting all my strength
of will that I could drag myself along. In difficult places Johansen
had to help me with my sledge. It began yesterday, and at the end of
our march he had to go first and find the way. Yesterday I was much
worse, and how I am to-day I do not know before I begin to walk; but
I ought to be thankful that I can drag myself along at all, though
it is with endless pain. We had to halt and camp on account of rain
yesterday morning at three, after only having gone nine hours. The
rain succeeded in making us wet before we had found a suitable place
for the tent. Here we have been a whole day while it has been pouring
down, and we have hardly become drier. There are puddles under us and
the bag is soaked on the under-side. The wind has gone round to the
west just now, and it has stopped raining, so we made some porridge
for breakfast and think of going on again; but if it should begin to
rain again we must stop, as it will not do to get wet through when we
have no change of clothes. It is anything but pleasant as it is to lie
with wet legs and feet that are like icicles, and not have a dry thread
to put on. Full-grown Ross's gulls were seen singly four times to-day,
and when Johansen was out to fetch water this morning he saw two. [43]
"Wednesday, July 31st. The ice is as disintegrated and impracticable
as can well be conceived. The continual friction and packing of
the floes against each other grind up the ice so that the water is
full of brash and small pieces; to ferry over this in the kayaks
is impossible, and the search is long before we eventually find a
hazardous crossing. Sometimes we have to form one by pushing small
floes together, or must ferry the sledges over on a little floe. We
spend much time and labor on each single lane, and progress becomes
slow in this way. My back still painful, Johansen had to go ahead
yesterday also; and evening and morning he is obliged to take off my
boots and socks, for I am unable to do it myself. He is touchingly
unselfish, and takes care of me as if I were a child; everything
he thinks can ease me he does quietly, without my knowing it. Poor
fellow, he has to work doubly hard now, and does not know how this
will end. I feel very much better to-day, however, and it is to be
hoped shall soon be all right.
"Thursday, August 1st. Ice with more obstacles than here--is it to
be found, I wonder? But we are working slowly on, and, that being
the case, we ought, perhaps, to be satisfied. We have also had a
change--a brilliantly fine day; but it seems to me the south wind
we have had, which opened the lanes, has put us a good way farther
off land again. We have also drifted a long distance to the east,
and no longer see the most westerly land with the black rocks, which
we remarked at first. It would seem as if the Ross's gulls keep to
land here; we see them daily.
"One thing, however, I am rejoicing over; my back is almost well,
so that I shall not delay our progress any more. I have some idea
now what it would be like if one of us became seriously ill. Our fate
would then be sealed, I think.
"Friday, August 2d. It seems as if everything conspired to delay us,
and that we shall never get away from this drift-ice. My back is well
again now; the ice was more passable yesterday than before, so that
we nearly made a good day's march; but in return wind and current
set us from shore, and we are farther away again. Against these two
enemies all fighting is in vain, I am afraid. We have drifted far off
to the southeast, have got the north point of the land about due west
of us, and we are now in about 81° 36' N. My only hope now is that
this drift eastward, away from land, may stop or alter its course,
and thus bring us nearer land. It is unfortunate that the lanes are
covered with young ice, which it would be disastrous to put the kayaks
through. If this gets worse, things will look very bad. Meanwhile we
have nothing to do but go on as fast as we can. If we are going to
drift back into the ice again, then--then--
"Saturday, August 3d. Inconceivable toil. We never could go on with
it were it not for the fact that we must. We have made wretchedly
little progress, even if we have made any at all. We have had no food
for the dogs the last few days except the ivory-gulls and fulmars we
have been able to shoot, and that has been a couple a day. Yesterday
the dogs only had a little bit of blubber each.
"Sunday, August 4th. These lanes are desperate work and tax one's
strength. We often have to go several hundred yards on mere brash, or
from block to block, dragging the sledges after us, and in constant
fear of their capsizing into the water. Johansen was very nearly in
yesterday, but, as always hitherto, he managed to save himself. The
dogs fall in and get a bath continually.
"Monday, August 5th. We have never had worse ice than yesterday,
but we managed to force our way on a little, nevertheless, and two
happy incidents marked the day: the first was that Johansen was not
eaten up by a bear, and the second, that we saw open water under the
glacier edge ashore.
"We set off about 7 o'clock yesterday morning and got on to ice as
bad it as could be. It was as if some giant had hurled down enormous
blocks pell-mell, and had strewn wet snow in between them with water
underneath; and into this we sank above our knees. There were also
numbers of deep pools in between the blocks. It was like toiling over
hill and dale, up and down over block after block and ridge after
ridge, with deep clefts in between; not a clear space big enough to
pitch a tent on even, and thus it went on the whole time. To put a
coping-stone to our misery, there was such a mist that we could not
see a hundred yards in front of us. After an exhausting march we at
last reached a lane where we had to ferry over in the kayaks. After
having cleared the side of the lane from young ice and brash, I drew
my sledge to the end of the ice, and was holding it to prevent it
slipping in, when I heard a scuffle behind me, and Johansen, who had
just turned round to pull his sledge flush with mine, [44] cried,
'Take the gun!' I turned round and saw an enormous bear throwing
itself on him, and Johansen on his back. I tried to seize my gun,
which was in its case on the fore-deck, but at the same moment the
kayak slipped into the water. My first thought was to throw myself
into the water over the kayak and fire from there, but I recognized
how risky it would be. I began to pull the kayak, with its heavy
cargo, on to the high edge of the ice again as quickly as I could,
and was on my knees pulling and tugging to get at my gun. I had no
time to look round and see what was going on behind me, when I heard
Johansen quietly say, 'You must look sharp if you want to be in time!'
"Look sharp? I should think so! At last I got hold of the butt-end,
dragged the gun out, turned round in a sitting posture, and cocked the
shot-barrel. The bear was standing not two yards off, ready to make
an end to my dog, 'Kaifas.' There was no time to lose in cocking the
other barrel, so I gave it a charge of shot behind the ear, and it
fell down dead between us.
"The bear must have followed our track like a cat, and, covered by the
ice-blocks, have slunk up while we were clearing the ice from the lane
and had our backs to him. We could see by the trail how it had crept
over a small ridge just behind us under cover of a mound by Johansen's
kayak. While the latter, without suspecting anything or looking round,
went back and stooped down to pick up the hauling-rope, he suddenly
caught sight of an animal crouched up at the end of the kayak, but
thought it was 'Suggen'; and before he had time to realize that it was
so big he received a cuff on the ear which made him see fireworks,
and then, as I mentioned before, over he went on his back. He tried
to defend himself as best he could with his fists. With one hand he
seized the throat of the animal, and held fast, clinching it with
all his might. It was just as the bear was about to bite Johansen in
the head that he uttered the memorable words, "Look sharp!" The bear
kept glancing at me continually, speculating, no doubt, as to what I
was going to do; but then caught sight of the dog and turned towards
it. Johansen let go as quick as thought, and wriggled himself away,
while the bear gave 'Suggen' a cuff which made him howl lustily,
just as he does when we thrash him. Then 'Kaifas' got a slap on the
nose. Meanwhile Johansen had struggled to his legs, and when I fired
had got his gun, which was sticking out of the kayak hole. The only
harm done was that the bear had scraped some grime off Johansen's
right cheek, so that he has a white stripe on it, and had given him a
slight wound in one hand; 'Kaifas' had also got a scratch on his nose.
"Hardly had the bear fallen before we saw two more, peeping over a
hummock a little way off--cubs, who naturally wanted to see the result
of the maternal chase. They were two large cubs. I thought it was not
worth while to sacrifice a cartridge on them, but Johansen expressed
his opinion that young bear's flesh was much more delicate in flavor
than old. He would only shoot one, he said, and started off. However,
the cubs took to their heels, although they came back a little while
later, and we could hear them at a long distance growling after
their mother.
"Johansen sent one of them a ball, but the range was too long, and
he only wounded it. With some terrific growls it started off again,
and Johansen after it; but he gave up the chase soon, as he saw it
promised to be a long one. While we were cutting up the she-bear the
cubs came back on the other side of the lane, and the whole time we
were there we had them walking round us. When we had fed the dogs well,
and had eaten some of the raw meat ourselves, and had furthermore
stowed away in the kayaks the meat we had cut off the legs, we at
last ferried over the lane and went on our way.
"The ice was not good; and, to make bad worse, we immediately came
on some terrible lanes, full of nothing but tightly packed lumps of
ice. In some places there were whole seas of it, and it was enough to
make one despair. Among all this loose ice we came on an unusually
thick old floe, with high mounds on it and pools in between. It
was from one of these mounds that I observed through the glass the
open water at the foot of the glacier, and now we cannot have far to
go. But the ice looks very bad on ahead, and each piece when it is
like this may take a long time to travel over.
"As we went along we heard the wounded bear lowing ceaselessly behind
us; it filled the whole of this silent world of ice with its bitter
plaint over the cruelty of man. It was miserable to hear it; and if
we had had time we should undoubtedly have gone back and sacrificed a
cartridge on it. We saw the cubs go off to the place where the mother
was lying, and thought to ourselves that we had got rid of them,
but heard them soon afterwards, and even when we had camped they were
not far off.
"Wednesday, August 7th. At last we are under land; at last the
drift-ice lies behind us, and before us is open water--open, it is to
be hoped, to the end. Yesterday was the day. When we came out of the
tent the evening of the day before yesterday we both thought we must
be nearer the edge of the glacier than ever, and with fresh courage,
and in the faint hope of reaching land that day, we started on our
journey. Yet we dared not think our life on the drift-ice was so
nearly at an end. After wandering about on it for five months and
suffering so many disappointments, we were only too well prepared for
a new defeat. We thought, however, that the ice looked more promising
farther on, though before we had gone far we came to broad lanes full
of slush and foul, uneven ice, with hills and dales, and deep snow and
water, into which we sank up to our thighs. After a couple of lanes
of this kind, matters improved a little, and we got on to some flat
ice. After having gone over this for a while, it became apparent how
much nearer we were to the edge of the glacier. It could not possibly
be far off now. We eagerly harnessed ourselves to the sledges again,
put on a spurt, and away we went through snow and water, over mounds
and ridges. We went as hard as we could, and what did we care if we
sank into water till far above our fur leggings, so that both they
and our 'komager' filled and gurgled like a pump? What did it matter
to us now, so long as we got on?
"We soon reached plains, and over them we went quicker and quicker. We
waded through ponds where the spray flew up on all sides. Nearer and
nearer we came, and by the dark water-sky before us, which continually
rose higher, we could see how we were drawing near to open water. We
did not even notice bears now. There seemed to be plenty about, tracks,
both old and new, crossing and recrossing; one had even inspected the
tent while we were asleep, and by the fresh trail we could see how
it had come down wind in lee of us. We had no use for a bear now;
we had food enough. We were soon able to see the open water under
the wall of the glacier, and our steps lengthened even more. As
I was striding along I thought of the march of the Ten Thousand
through Asia, when Xenophon's soldiers, after a year's war against
superior forces, at last saw the sea from a mountain and cried,
'Thalatta! thalatta!' Maybe this sea was just as welcome to us after
our months in the endless white drift-ice.
"At last, at last, I stood by the edge of the ice. Before me lay
the dark surface of the sea, with floating white floes; far away
the glacier wall rose abruptly from the water; over the whole lay
a sombre, foggy light. Joy welled up in our hearts at this sight,
and we could not give it expression in words. Behind us lay all our
troubles, before us the waterway home. I waved my hat to Johansen,
who was a little way behind, and he waved his in answer and shouted
'Hurrah!' Such an event had to be celebrated in some way, and we did
it by having a piece of chocolate each.
"While we were standing there looking at the water the large head
of a seal came up, and then disappeared silently; but soon more
appeared. It is very reassuring to know that we can procure food at
any minute we like.
"Now came the rigging of the kayaks for the voyage. Of course, the
better way would have been to paddle singly, but, with the long,
big sledges on the deck, this was not easy, and leave them behind I
dared not; we might have good use for them yet. For the time being,
therefore, there was nothing else to be done but to lash the two
kayaks together side by side in our usual manner, stiffen them out
with snow-shoes under the straps, and place the sledges athwart them,
one before and one behind.
"It was sad to think we could not take our two last dogs with us,
but we should probably have no further use for them, and it would
not have done to take them with us on the decks of our kayaks. We
were sorry to part with them; we had become very fond of these two
survivors. Faithful and enduring, they had followed us the whole
journey through; and, now that better times had come, they must say
farewell to life. Destroy them in the same way as the others we could
not; we sacrificed a cartridge on each of them. I shot Johansen's,
and he shot mine.
"So then we were ready to set off. It was a real pleasure to let
the kayaks dance over the water and hear the little waves plashing
against the sides. For two years we had not seen such a surface of
water before us. We had not gone far before we found that the wind
was so good that we ought to make use of it, and so we rigged up a
sail on our fleet. We glided easily before the wind in towards the
land we had so longed for all these many months. What a change, after
having forced one's way inch by inch and foot by foot on ice! The
mist had hidden the land from us for a while, but now it parted,
and we saw the glacier rising straight in front of us. At the same
moment the sun burst forth, and a more beautiful morning I can hardly
remember. We were soon underneath the glacier, and had to lower our
sail and paddle westward along the wall of ice, which was from 50 to
60 feet in height, and on which a landing was impossible. It seemed
as if there must be little movement in this glacier; the water had
eaten its way deep underneath it at the foot, and there was no noise
of falling fragments or the cracking of crevasses to be heard, as
there generally is with large glaciers. It was also quite even on
the top, and no crevasses were to be seen. Up the entire height of
the wall there was stratification, which was unusually marked. We
soon discovered that a tidal current was running westward along the
wall of the glacier with great rapidity, and took advantage of it to
make good progress. To find a camping-ground, however, was not easy,
and at last we were reduced to taking up our abode on a drifting
floe. It was glorious, though, to go to rest in the certainty that
we should not wake to drudgery in the drift-ice.
"When we turned out to-day we found that the ice had packed around
us, and I do not know yet how we shall get out of it, though there
is open water not far off to our west.
"Thursday, August 8th. After hauling our impedimenta over some floes
we got into open water yesterday without much difficulty. When
we had reached the edge of the water we made a paddle each from
our snow-shoe-staffs, to which we bound blades made of broken-off
snow-shoes. They were a great improvement on the somewhat clumsy
paddles, with canvas blades lashed to bamboo sticks. I was very much
inclined to chop off our sledges, so that they would only be half as
long as before; by so doing we could carry them on the after-deck of
the kayaks, and could thus each paddle alone, and our advance would
be much quicker than by paddling the twin kayaks. However, I thought,
perhaps, it was unadvisable. The water looked promising enough on
ahead, but there was mist, and we could not see far; we knew nothing
of the country or the coast we had come to, and might yet have good
use for the sledges. We therefore set off in our double kayak, as
before, with the sledges athwart the deck fore and aft.
"The mist soon rose a little. It was then a dead calm; the surface
of the water lay like a great mirror before us, with bits of ice and
an occasional floe drifting on it. It was a marvellously beautiful
sight, and it was indeed glorious to sit there in our light vessels
and glide over the surface without any exertion. Suddenly a seal rose
in front of us, and over us flew continually ivory-gulls and fulmars
and kittiwakes. Little auks we also saw, and some Ross's gulls, and
a couple of terns. There was no want of animal life here, nor of food
when we should require it.
"We found open water, broader and broader, as we paddled on our way
beside the wall of ice; but it would not clear so that we could see
something of our surroundings. The mist still hung obstinately over it.
"Our course at first lay west to north (magnetic); but the land always
trended more and more to the west and southwest; the expanse of water
grew greater, and soon it widened out to a large sea, stretching in a
southwesterly direction. A breeze sprang up from the north-northeast,
and there was considerable motion, which was not pleasant, as in our
double craft the seas continually washed up between the two and wetted
us. We put in towards evening and pitched the tent on the shore-ice,
and just as we did so it began to rain, so that it was high time to
be under a roof.
"Friday, August 9th. Yesterday morning we had again to drag the
sledges with the kayaks over some ice which had drifted in front of
our camping-ground, and during this operation I managed to fall into
the water and get wet. It was with difficulty we finally got through
and out into open water. After a while we again found our way closed,
and were obliged to take to hauling over some floes, but after this we
had good open water the whole day. It was a northeasterly wind which
had set the ice towards the land, and it was lucky we had got so far,
as behind us, to judge by the atmosphere, the sea was much blocked. The
mist hung over the land so that we saw little of it. According as
we advanced we were able to hold a more southerly course, and, the
wind being nearly on the quarter, we set sail about 1 o'clock, and
continued sailing all day till we stopped yesterday evening. Our sail,
however, was interrupted once when it was necessary to paddle round
an ice-point north of where we are now; the contrary current was so
strong that it was as much as we could do to make way against it, and
it was only after considerable exertion that we succeeded in doubling
the point. We have seen little of the land we are skirting up to this,
on account of the mist; but as far as I can make out it consists of
islands. First there was a large island covered with an ice-sheet;
then west of it a smaller one, on which are the two crags of rock
which first made us aware of the vicinity of land; next came a long
fjord or sound, with massive shore-ice in it; and then a small, low
headland, or rather an island, south of which we are now encamped. This
shore-ice lying along the land is very remarkable. It is unusually
massive and uneven; it seems to be composed of huge blocks welded
together, which in a great measure, at any rate, must proceed from
the ice-sheet. There has also, perhaps, been violent pressure against
the land, which has heaved the sea-ice up together with pieces of ice
from the calving of the glacier, and the whole has frozen together
into a conglomerate mass. A medium-sized iceberg lay off the headland
north of us, where the current was so strong. Where we are now lying,
however, there is flat fjord-ice between the low island here and a
larger one farther south.
"This land grows more of a problem, and I am more than ever at
a loss to know where we are. It is very remarkable to me that the
coast continually trends to the south instead of to the west. I could
explain it all best by supposing ourselves to be on the west coast of
the archipelago of Franz Josef Land, were it not that the variation,
I think, is too great, and also for the number of Ross's gulls there
still are. Not one has with certainty been seen in Spitzbergen, and
if my supposition is right, this should not be far off. Yesterday
we saw a number of them again; they are quite as common here as the
other species of gull.
"Saturday, August 10th. We went up on to the little islet we had camped
by. It was covered by a glacier, which curved over it in the shape of a
shield; there were slopes to all sides; but so slight was the gradient
that our snow-shoes would not even run of themselves on the crust
of snow. From the ridge we had a fair view, and, as the mist lifted
just then, we saw the land about us tolerably well. We now perceived
plainly that what we had been skirting along was only islands. The
first one was the biggest. The other land, with the two rocky crags,
had, as we could see, a strip of bare land along the shore on the
northwest side. Was it there, perhaps, the Ross's gulls congregated
and had their breeding-grounds? The island to our south also looked
large; it appeared to be entirely covered by a glacier. [45] Between
the islands, and as far as we could perceive southeast and east,
the sea was covered by perfectly flat fjord-ice, but no land was to
be discerned in that direction. There were no icebergs here, though
we saw some later in the day on the south side of the island lying
to the south of us.
"The glacier covering the little island on which we stood joined
the fjord-ice almost imperceptibly; only a few small fissures along
the shore indicated where it probably began. There could not be any
great rise and fall in the ice here, consequent on the tide, as the
fissures would then, as a matter of course, have been considerably
larger. This seemed remarkable, as the tidal current ran swift as a
river here. On the west side of the island there lay in front of the
glacier a rampart of ice and snow, which was probably formed of pieces
of glacier-ice and sea-ice welded together. It had the same character
as the massive shore-ice which we had seen previously running along
the land. This rampart went over imperceptibly with an even slope
into the glacier within it.
"About three in the afternoon we finally set off in open water and
sailed till eight or so in the evening; the water was then closed,
and we were compelled to haul the fleet over flat ice to open water
on the other side. But here, too, our progress seemed blocked, and
as the current was against us we pitched the tent."
On August 10th we were "compelled partly to haul our sledges over the
ice, partly to row in open water in a southwesterly direction. When we
reached navigable waters again, we passed a flock of walruses lying on
a floe. It was a pleasure to see so much food collected at one spot,
but we did not take any notice of them, as, for the time being, we
have meat and blubber enough. After dinner we managed, in the mist, to
wander down a long bay into the shore-ice, where there was no outlet;
we had to turn back, and this delayed us considerably. We now kept
a more westerly course, following the often massive and uneven edge
of the ice; but the current was dead against us, and, in addition,
young ice had been forming all day as we rowed along; the weather
had been cold and still, with falling snow, and this began to be so
thick that we could not make way against it any longer. We therefore
went ashore on the ice, and hauled until ten in the evening.
"Bear-tracks, old and new, in all directions--both the single ones of
old bachelors and those of she-bears with cubs. It looks as if they
had had a general rendezvous, or as if a flock of them had roamed
backward and forward. I have never seen so many bear-tracks in one
place in my life.
"We have certainly done 14 or 25 miles to-day; but still I think our
progress is too slow if we are to reach Spitzbergen this year, and I
am always wondering if we ought not to cut the ends off our sledges,
so that each can paddle his own kayak. This young ice, however, which
grows steadily worse, and the eleven degrees below freezing we now
have, make me hold my hand. Perhaps winter is upon us, and then the
sledges may be very necessary.
"It is a curious sensation to paddle in the mist, as we are doing,
without being able to see a mile in front of us. The land we found
we have left behind us. We are always in hopes of clear weather, in
order to see where the land lies in front of us--for land there must
be. This flat, unbroken ice must be attached to land of some kind;
but clear weather we are not to have, it appears. Mist without ceasing;
we must push on as it is."
After having hauled some distance farther over the ice we came to
open water again the following day (August 11th) and paddled for four
or five hours. While I was on a hummock inspecting the waters ahead,
a huge monster of a walrus came up quite near us. It lay puffing and
glaring at us on the surface of the water, but we took no notice of
it, got into our kayaks, and went on. Suddenly it came up again by
the side of us, raised itself high out of the water, snorted so that
the air shook, and threatened to thrust its tusks into our frail
craft. We seized our guns, but at the same moment it disappeared,
and came up immediately afterwards on the other side, by Johansen's
kayak, where it repeated the same manoeuvre. I said to him that if
the animal showed signs of attacking us we must spend a cartridge
on it. It came up several times and disappeared again; we could see
it down in the water, passing rapidly on its side under our vessels,
and, afraid lest it should make a hole in the bottom with its tusks,
we thrust our paddles down into the water and frightened it away; but
suddenly it came up again right by Johansen's kayak, and more savage
than ever. He sent it a charge straight in the eyes, it uttered a
terrific bellow, rolled over, and disappeared, leaving a trail of
blood on the water behind it. We paddled on as hard as we could,
knowing that the shot might have dangerous consequences, but we were
relieved when we heard the walrus come up far behind us at the place
where it had disappeared.
We had paddled quietly on, and had long forgotten all about the
walrus, when I suddenly saw Johansen jump into the air and felt his
kayak receive a violent shock. I had no idea what it was, and looked
round to see if some block of floating ice had capsized and struck the
bottom of his kayak; but suddenly I saw another walrus rise up in the
water beside us. I seized my gun, and as the animal would not turn its
head so that I could aim at a spot behind the ear, where it is more
easily wounded, I was constrained to put a ball in the middle of its
forehead; there was no time to be lost. Happily this was enough, and
it lay there dead and floating on the water. With great difficulty we
managed to make a hole in the thick skin, and after cutting ourselves
some strips of blubber and meat from the back we went on our way again.
At seven in the evening the tidal current turned and the channel
closed. There was no more water to be found. Instead of taking to
hauling over the ice, we determined to wait for the opening of the
channel when the tide should turn next day, and meanwhile to cut off
the ends of our sledges, as I had so long been thinking of doing,
and make ourselves some good double paddles, so that we could put on
greater pace, and, in our single kayaks, make the most of the channel
during the time it was open. While we were occupied in doing this
the mist cleared off at last, and there lay land stretched out in
front of us, extending a long way south and west from S.E. right up
to N.N.W. It appeared to be a chain of islands with sounds between
them. They were chiefly covered with glaciers, only here and there
were perpendicular black mountain-walls to be seen. It was a sight
to make one rejoice to see so much land at one time. But where were
we? This seemed a more difficult question to answer than ever. Could
we, after all, have arrived at the east side of Franz Josef Land? It
seemed very reasonable to suppose this to be the case. But then we
must be very far east, and must expect a long voyage before we could
reach Cape Fligely, on Crown Prince Rudolf Land. Meanwhile we worked
hard to get the sledges ready; but as the mist gradually lifted and
it became clearer and clearer, we could not help continually leaving
them, to climb up on to the hummock beside us to look at the country,
and speculate on this insoluble problem. We did not get to bed till
seven in the morning of August 12th.
"Tuesday, August 13th. After having slept a few hours, we turned out
of the bag again, for the current had turned, and there was a wide
channel. In our single kayaks, we made good headway, but after going
about five miles the channel closed, and we had to clamber on to the
ice. We thought it advisable to wait until the tidal current turned,
and see if there were not a channel running farther. If not, we must
lash proper grips of wood to our curtailed sledges, and commence
hauling towards a sound running through the land, which I see about
W.N.W. (true), and which, according to Payer's chart, I take to be
Rawlinson's Sound."
But the crack did not open, and when it came to the point we had to
continue on our way hauling.
"Wednesday, August 14th. We dragged our sledges and loads over a
number of floes and ferried across lanes, arriving finally at a lane
which ran westward, in which we could paddle; but it soon packed
together again, and we were stopped. The ivory-gulls are very bold,
and last night stole a piece of blubber lying close by the tent wall."
The following day we had to make our way as well as we could by
paddling short distances in the lanes or hauling our loads over floes
smaller or larger, as the case might be. The current, which was running
like a mill-race, ground them together in its career. Our progress with
our short, stumpy sledges was nothing very great, and of water suitable
for paddling in we found less and less. We stopped several times and
waited for the ice to open at the turn of the tide, but it did not do
so, and on the morning of August 15th we gave it up, turned inward,
and took to the shore-ice for good. We set our course westward towards
the sound we had seen for several days now, and had struggled so to
reach. The surface of the ice was tolerably even and we got over the
ground well. On the way we passed a frozen-in iceberg, which was the
highest we saw in these parts--some 50 to 60 feet, I should say. [46]
I wished to go up it to get a better view of our environment, but it
was too steep, and we did not get higher than a third part up the side.
"In the evening we at last reached the islands we had been steering
for for the last few days, and for the first time for two years had
bare land under foot. The delight of the feeling of being able to jump
from block to block of granite [47] is indescribable, and the delight
was not lessened when in a little sheltered corner among the stones
we found moss and flowers, beautiful poppies (Papaver nudicaule)
Saxifraga nivalis, and a Stellaria (sp.?). It goes without saying
that the Norwegian flag had to wave over this our first bare land,
and a banquet was prepared. Our petroleum, meanwhile, had given out
several days previously, and we had to contrive another lamp in which
train-oil could be used. The smoking hot lobscouse, made of pemmican
and the last of our potatoes, was delicious, and we sat inside the
tent and kicked the bare grit under us to our heart's content.
"Where we are is becoming more and more incomprehensible. There appears
to be a broad sound west of us, but what is it? The island [48] we
are now on, and where we have slept splendidly (this is written on
the morning of August 16th) on dry land, with no melting of the ice
in puddles underneath us, is a long moraine-like ridge running about
north and south (magnetic), and consists almost exclusively of small
and large--generally very large--blocks of stone, with, I should say,
occasional stationary crags. The blocks are in a measure rounded off,
but I have found no striation on them. The whole island barely rises
above the snow-field in which it lies, and which slopes in a gradual
decline down to the surrounding ice. On our west there is a bare
island, somewhat higher, which we have seen for several days. Along
the shore there is a decided strand-line (terrace). North of us are
two small islets and a small rock or skerry.
"As I mentioned before (August 13th) I had at first supposed the sound
on our west to be Rawlinson's Sound, but this now appeared impossible,
as there was nothing to be seen of Dove Glacier, by which it is bounded
on one side. If this was now our position, we must have traversed the
glacier and Wilczek Land without noticing any trace of either; for we
had travelled westward a good half degree south of Cape Buda-Pesth. The
possibility that we could be in this region we consequently now held
to be finally excluded. We must have come to a new land in the western
part of Franz Josef Land or Archipelago, and so far west that we had
seen nothing of the countries discovered by Payer. But so far west
that we had not even seen anything of Oscar's Land, which ought to
be situated in 82° N. and 52° E.? This was indeed incomprehensible;
but was there any other explanation?
"Saturday, August 17th. Yesterday was a good day. We are in open water
on the west coast of Franz Josef Land, as far as I can make out, and
may again hope to get home this year. About noon yesterday we walked
across the ice from our moraine-islet to the higher island west of
us. As I was ready before Johansen, I went on first to examine the
island a little. As he was following me he caught sight of a bear
on the level ice to leeward. It came jogging up against the wind
straight towards him. He had his gun ready, but when a little nearer
the bear stopped, reconsidered the situation, suddenly turned tail,
and was soon out of sight.
"This island [49] we came to seemed to me to be one of the most
lovely spots on the face of the earth. A beautiful flat beach,
an old strand-line with shells strewn about, a narrow belt of
clear water along the shore, where snails and sea-urchins (Echinus)
were visible at the bottom and amphipoda were swimming about. In the
cliffs overhead were hundreds of screaming little auks, and beside us
the snow-buntings fluttered from stone to stone with their cheerful
twitter. Suddenly the sun burst forth through the light fleecy clouds,
and the day seemed to be all sunshine. Here were life and bare land;
we were no longer on the eternal drift-ice! At the bottom of the sea
just beyond the beach I could see whole forests of seaweed (Laminaria
and Fucus). Under the cliffs here and there were drifts of beautiful
rose-colored snow. [50]
"On the north side of the island we found the breeding-place of numbers
of black-backed gulls; they were sitting with their young in ledges
of the cliffs. Of course we had to climb up and secure a photograph
of this unusual scene of family life, and as we stood there high up
on the cliff's side we could see the drift-ice whence we had come. It
lay beneath us like a white plain, and disappeared far away on the
horizon. Beyond this it was we had journeyed, and farther away still
the Fram and our comrades were drifting yet.
"I had thought of going to the top of this island to get a better view,
and perhaps come nearer solving the problem of our whereabouts. But
when we were on the west side of it the mist came back and settled on
the top; we had to content ourselves with only going a little way up
the slope to look at our future course westward. Some way out we saw
open water; it looked like the sea itself, but before one could get
to it there was a good deal of ice. We came down again and started
off. Along the land there was a channel running some distance farther,
and we tried it, but it was covered everywhere with a thin layer of
new ice, which we did not dare to break through in our kayaks, and
risk cutting a hole in them; so, finally, a little way farther south
we put in to drag up the kayaks and take to the ice again. While we
were doing this one huge bearded seal after another stuck its head up
by the side of the ice and gazed wonderingly at us with its great eyes;
then, with a violent header, and splashing the water in all directions,
it would disappear, to come up again soon afterwards on the other
side. They kept playing around us, blowing, diving, reappearing,
and throwing themselves over so that the water foamed round them. It
would have been easy enough to capture one had we required it.
"At last, after a good deal of exertion, we stood at the margin of
the ice; the blue expanse of water lay before us as far as the eye
could reach, and we thought that for the future we had to do with it
alone. To the north [51] there was land, the steep, black, basalt
cliffs of which fell perpendicularly into the sea. We saw headland
after headland standing out northward, and farthest off of all we
could descry a bluish glacier. The interior was everywhere covered
with an ice-sheet. Below the clouds, and over the land, was a strip
of ruddy night sky, which was reflected in the melancholy, rocking sea.
"So we paddled on along the side of the glacier which covered the
whole country south of us. We became more and more excited as we
approached the headland to the west. Would the coast trend south
here, and was there no more land westward? It was this we expected
to decide our fate--decide whether we should reach home that year or
be compelled to winter somewhere on land. Nearer and nearer we came
to it along the edge of the perpendicular wall of ice. At last we
reached the headland, and our hearts bounded with joy to see so much
water--only water--westward, and the coast trending southwest. We
also saw a bare mountain projecting from the ice-sheet a little way
farther on; it was a curious high ridge, as sharp as a knife-blade. It
was as steep and sharp as anything I have seen; it was all of dark,
columnar basalt, and so jagged and peaked that it looked like a
comb. In the middle of the mountain there was a gap or couloir,
and there we crept up to inspect the sea-way southward. The wall of
rock was anything but broad there, and fell away on the south side
in a perpendicular drop of several hundred feet. A cutting wind was
blowing in the couloir. While we were lying there, I suddenly heard a
noise behind me, and on looking around I saw two foxes fighting over
a little auk which they had just caught. They clawed and tugged and
bit as hard as they could on the very edge of the chasm; then they
suddenly caught sight of us, not twenty feet away from them. They
stopped fighting, looked up wonderingly, and began to run around
and peep at us, first from one side, then from the other. Over us
myriads of little auks flew backward and forward, screaming shrilly
from the ledges in the mountain-side. So far as we could make out,
there appeared to be open sea along the land to the westward. The wind
was favorable, and although we were tired we decided to take advantage
of the opportunity, have something to eat, rig up mast and sail on
our canoes, and get afloat. We sailed till the morning, when the wind
went down, and then we landed on the shore-ice again and camped. [52]
"I am as happy as a child in the thought that we are now at last
really on the west coast of Franz Josef Land, with open water before
us, and independent of ice and currents.
"Wednesday, August 24th. The vicissitudes of this life will never come
to an end. When I wrote last I was full of hope and courage; and here
we are stopped by stress of weather for four days and three nights,
with the ice packed as tight as it can be against the coast. We
see nothing but piled-up ridges, hummocks, and broken ice in all
directions. Courage is still here, but hope--the hope of soon being
home--that was relinquished a long time ago, and before us lies the
certainty of a long, dark winter in these surroundings.
"It was at midnight between the 17th and 18th that we set off from
our last camping-ground in splendid weather. Though it was cloudy and
the sun invisible, there was along the horizon in the north the most
glorious ruddy glow with golden sun-tipped clouds, and the sea lay
shining and dreamy in the distance: a marvellous night.... On the
surface of the sea, smooth as a mirror, without a block of ice as
far as the eye could reach, glided the kayaks, the water purling off
the paddles at every silent stroke. It was like being in a gondola on
the Canale Grande. But there was something almost uncanny about all
this stillness, and the barometer had gone down rapidly. Meanwhile, we
sped towards the headland in the south-southwest, which I thought was
about 12 miles off. [53] After some hours we espied ice ahead, but both
of us thought that it was only a loose chain of pieces drifting with
the current, and we paddled confidently on. But as we gradually drew
nearer we saw that the ice was fairly compact, and extended a greater
and greater distance; though from the low kayaks it was not easy to see
the exact extent of the pack. We accordingly disembarked and climbed
up on a hummock to find out our best route. The sight which met us
was anything but encouraging. Off the headland we were steering for
were a number of islets and rocks, extending some distance out to sea;
it was they that were locking the ice, which lay in every direction,
between them and outside them. Near us it was slack, but farther off
it looked much worse, so that further advance by sea was altogether
out of the question. Our only expedient was to take to the edge of
the shore-ice, and hope for the chance that a lane might run along it
some way farther on. On the way in we passed a seal lying on a floe,
and as our larder was beginning to grow empty, I tried to get a shot
at it, but it dived into the water before we came within range.
"As we were paddling along through some small bits of ice my
kayak suddenly received a violent shock from underneath. I looked
round in amazement, as I had not noticed any large piece of ice
hereabouts. There was nothing of the kind to be seen either, but
worse enemies were about. No sooner had I glanced down than I saw a
huge walrus cleaving through the water astern, and it suddenly came
up, raised itself and stood on end just before Johansen, who was
following in my wake. Afraid lest the animal should have its tusks
through the deck of his craft the next minute, he backed as hard as
he could and felt for his gun, which he had down in the kayak. I was
not long either in pulling my gun out of its cover. The animal crashed
snorting into the water again, however, dived under Johansen's kayak,
and came up just behind him. Johansen, thinking he had had enough
of such a neighbor, scrambled incontinently on to the floe nearest
him. After having waited awhile, with my gun ready for the walrus to
come up close by me, I followed his example. I very nearly came in for
the cold bath which the walrus had omitted to give me, for the edge of
the ice gave way just as I set my foot on it, and the kayak drifted
off with me standing upright in it, and trying to balance it as best
I could, in order not to capsize. If the walrus had reappeared at that
moment I should certainly have received it in its own element. Finally,
I succeeded in getting up on to the ice, and for a long time afterwards
the walrus swam round and round our floe, where we made the best of the
situation by having dinner. Sometimes it was near Johansen's kayak,
sometimes near mine. We could see how it darted about in the water
under the kayaks, and it had evidently the greatest desire to attack
us again. We thought of giving it a ball to get rid of it, but had no
great wish to part with a cartridge, and, besides, it only showed us
its nose and forehead, which are not exactly the most vital spots to
aim at, when one's object is to kill with one shot. It was a great
ox-walrus. There is something remarkably fantastic and prehistoric
about these monsters. I could not help thinking of a merman, or
something of the kind, as it lay there just under the surface of
the water, blowing and snorting for quite a long while at a time,
and glaring at us with its round glassy eyes. After having continued
in this way for some time, it disappeared just as tracklessly as it
had come; and as we had finished our dinner we were able to go on our
way again, glad, a second time, not to have been upset or destroyed
by its tusks. The most curious thing about it was that it came so
entirely without warning--suddenly rising up from the deep. Johansen
had certainly heard a great splash behind him some time before,
which he took to be a seal, but perhaps it may have been the walrus.
"The lane along the shore-ice gave us little satisfaction, as it
was completely covered with young ice and we could make no way. In
addition to this, a wind from the S.S.W. sprang up, which drove the
ice on to us, so there was nothing for it but to put in to the edge
of the ice and wait until it should slacken again. We spread out the
bag, folded the tent over us, and prepared for rest in the hope of
soon being able to go on. But this was not to be; the wind freshened,
the ice packed tighter and tighter, there was soon no open water to
be seen in any direction, and even the open sea, whence we had come,
disappeared; all our hopes of getting home that year sank at one
blow. After a while we realized that there was nothing to be done
but to drag our loads farther in on to the shore-ice and camp. To
try and haul the canoes farther over this pack, which was worse than
any ice we had come across since we began our voyage, we thought was
useless. We should get very little distance in the day, and it might
cost us dear with the kayaks on the short sledges, among all these
ridges and hummocks; and so we lay there day and night waiting for
the wind to go down or to change. But it blew from the same quarter
the whole time, and matters were not improved by a heavy fall of snow
which made the ice absolutely impracticable.
"Our situation was not an attractive one; in front of us massive broken
sea-ice close by land, and the gods alone know if it will open again
this year; a good way behind us land [54] which looked anything but
inviting to spend the winter on; around us impassable ice, and our
provender very much on the decline. The south coast of the country
and Eira Harbor now appeared to our imagination a veritable land of
Canaan, and we thought that if only we were there all our troubles
would be over. We hoped to be able to find Leigh Smith's hut there,
or, at any rate, some remains of it, so that we should have something
to live in; and we also hoped that where there no doubt was much
open water it would be easy to find game. We regretted not having
shot some seals while they were numerous; on the night when we left
our last camping-place there were plenty of them about. As Johansen
was standing on the edge of the ice doing something to his kayak,
a seal came up just in front of him. He thought it was of a kind
he had not seen before, and shouted to me. But at the same moment
up came one black poll after another quiet and silent, from ten to
twenty in number, all gazing at him with their great eyes. He was
quite nonplussed, thought there was something uncanny about it,
and then they disappeared just as noiselessly as they had come.
"I consoled him by telling him they really were of a kind we had not
seen before on our journey; they were young harp, or saddleback seal
(Phoca groenlandica). We saw several schools of them again later in
the day.
"Meanwhile we killed time as best we could--chiefly by sleeping. On
the early morning of the 21st, just as I lay thinking what would
become of us if the ice should not slacken and we had no opportunity
of adding to our larder--the chances, I thought, did not seem very
promising--I heard something pawing and moving outside. It might, as
usual, be the packing of the ice, but still I thought it was more like
something on four legs. I jumped up, saying to Johansen that it must
be a bear, and then I suddenly heard it sniffing by the tent wall. I
peeped out through some holes in one side of it and saw nothing;
then I went across to a big hole on the other side of the tent, and
there I saw an enormous bear just outside. It caught sight of me,
too, at the same moment and slunk away, but then stopped again and
looked at the tent. I snatched my gun down from the tent-pole, stuck
it through the hole, and sent the bear a ball in the middle of the
chest. It fell forward; but raised itself again and struggled off,
so I had to give it the contents of the other barrel in the side. It
still staggered on, but fell down between some hummocks a little way
off. An unusually large he-bear, and for the time all our troubles
for food were ended. The wind, however, continued steadily from the
same quarter. As there was not much shelter where we were encamped,
and, furthermore, as we were uncomfortably near the ridge where the
ice was continually packing, we removed and took up our abode farther
in on the shore-ice, where we are still lying. Last night there was
a bear about again, but not quite so near the tent.
"We went on an excursion inland [55] yesterday to see what our
prospects might be if we should be forced to spend a winter here. I
had hoped to find flatter ice farther in, but instead it grew worse
and worse the nearer we went to land, and right in by the headland
it was towering up, and almost impassable. The ice was piled against
the very wall of the glacier. We went up on the glacier and looked
at the sound to the north of the headland. A little way in the ice
appeared to be flatter, more like fjord-ice, but nowhere could we
see lanes where there might be a chance of capturing seal. There
was no place for a hut either about here; while, on the other hand,
we found on the south side of the headland quite a smiling spot where
the ground was fairly level, and where there was some herbage, and an
abundance of moss and stones for building purposes. But outside it,
again, the ice towered up on the shore in chaotic confusion on all
sides. It was a little more level in the direction of the fjord or
sound which ran far inland to the south, and there it soon turned to
flat fjord-ice; but there were no lanes there either where we could
hope to capture seal. There did not seem much prospect of game, but
we comforted ourselves with the reflection that there were tracks
of bears in every direction, and bears would, in case of necessity,
be our one resource for both food and clothes. In the cliffs above
us crowds of little auks had their nests, as on all such places
that we have passed by. We also saw a fox. The rock formation was a
coarse-grained basalt; but by the side of the glacier we discovered a
mound of loose, half-crumbled argillaceous schist, in which, however,
we did not find any fossils. Some blocks which we thought very much
like granite were also strewn about. [56] Everywhere along the beach
the glaciers were covered with red snow, which had a very beautiful
effect in the sunshine.
"We were both agreed that it might be possible to winter here,
but hoped it was the first and last time we should set foot on the
spot. The way to it, too, was so bad that we hardly knew how we should
get the sledges and kayaks there.
"To-day, at last, the change we have longed and waited for so long
has come. Last night the southwest wind quieted down; the barometer,
which I have been tapping daily in vain, has at last begun to rise
a little, and the wind has gone round to the opposite quarter. The
question now is whether, if it keep there, it will be able to drive
the ice out again."
Here comes a great gap in my diary, and not till far on in the winter
(Friday, December 6th) do I write: "I must at last try and patch the
hole in my diary. There has been so much to see about that I have
got no writing done; that excuse, however, is no longer available,
as we sleep nearly the whole twenty-four hours."
After having written my journal for August 24th I went out to look
for a better and more sheltered place, as the wind had changed, and
now blew straight into the tent. I hoped, too, that this land-wind
might open up the ice, and I therefore first set off to see whether
any sign of slackening was to be discovered at the edge of the
shore-ice; but the floes lay packed together as solidly as ever. I
found, however, a capital place for pitching the tent, and we were
busy moving thither when we suddenly discovered that the ice had
split off to the landward, and already there was a broad channel. We
certainly wanted the ice to open up, but not on our landward side;
and now it was a question of getting across on to the shore-ice again
at any price, so as not to drift out to sea with the pack. But the
wind had risen to a stiff breeze, and it seemed more than doubtful
whether we could manage to pull up against it, even for so short a
distance as across the channel. This was rapidly growing broader and
broader. We had, however, to make an attempt, and, therefore, set off
along the edge towards a spot farther east, which we thought would
give us a little more shelter for launching our kayaks. On arriving,
however, we found that it would be no easy matter to launch them
here either without getting them filled with water. It blew so that
the spoondrift was driven over the sea, and the spray was dashed
far in over the ice. There was little else to be done but to pitch
our tent and wait for better times. We were now more than ever in
need of shelter to keep the tent from being torn by the wind, but,
search and tramp up and down as we might, we could find no permanent
resting-place, and at last had to content ourselves with the scant
shelter of a little elevation which we thought would do. We had
not lain long before the gusts of wind made such onslaughts on the
tent that we found it advisable to take it down, to avoid having it
torn to pieces. We could now sleep securely in our bags beneath the
prostrate tent, and let the wind rage above us. After a time I awoke,
and noticed that the wind had subsided so much that we could once
more raise our tent, and I crept out to look at the weather. I was
less pleasantly surprised on discovering that we were already far
out to sea; we must have drifted eight or ten miles from land, and
between it and us lay open sea. The land now lay quite low, far off on
the horizon. In the meantime, however, the weather had considerably
improved, and we once more set out along the edge of the ice to try
to get our kayaks launched. But it was no easy matter. It was still
blowing hard, and the sea ran high. In addition to this, there were
a number of loose floes beyond, and these were in constant motion, so
that we had to be on the alert to prevent the kayaks from being crushed
between them. After some futile attempts we at length got afloat,
but only to discover that the wind and the waves were too strong;
we should scarcely be able to make any progress against them. Our
only resource, therefore, was to sail, if this were practicable. We
went alongside an ice promontory, lashed the kayaks together, raised
the mast, and again put to sea. We soon had our single sail hoisted,
and to our unspeakable satisfaction we now found that we got along
capitally. At last we should be able to bid farewell to the ice,
where we had been compelled to abandon our hope of reaching home
that year. We now continued sailing hour after hour, and made good
progress; but then the wind dropped too much for our single sail,
and I ventured to set the whole double sail. Hardly had we done so,
when the wind again sprang up, and we dashed foaming through the
water. This soon, however, became a little too much; the sea washed
over the lee kayak, the mast bent dangerously, and the situation did
not look very pleasant; there was nothing for it but to lower the
sail again as quickly as possible. The single sail was again hoisted,
and we were cured for some time of wishing to try anything more.
We sailed steadily and well the whole day, and now at last had to
pass the difficult cape; but it was evening before we left it behind,
and now the wind dropped so much that the whole double sail had to be
hoisted again, and even then progress was slow. We kept on, however,
during the night, along the shore, determined to make as much use of
the wind as possible. We passed a low promontory covered by a gently
sloping glacier; [57] around it lay a number of islands, which must,
we thought, have held the ice fast. A little farther on we came under
some high basaltic cliffs, and here the wind dropped completely. As
it was also hazy, and we could discern land and islands both to right
and left of us, so that we did not know in what direction to steer, we
put in here, drew the kayaks up on shore, pitched the tent, and cooked
ourselves a good meal of warm food, which we relished greatly, from the
consciousness of having done a good day's work. Above our heads, all
up the face of the cliff, the little auks kept up a continual hubbub,
faithfully supported by the ivory-gulls, kittiwakes, burgomasters,
and skuas. We slept none the worse for that, however. This was a
beautiful mountain. It consisted of the finest columnar basalt one
could wish to see, with its buttresses and niches up the face of
the cliff, and its countless points and spires along every crest,
reminding one of Milan Cathedral. From top to bottom it was only
column upon column; at the base they were all lost in the talus.
When we turned out the following morning, the weather had so far
cleared that we could better see the way we ought to take. It appeared
as if a deep fjord or sound ran in eastward in front of us; and our
way distinctly lay round a promontory which we had to the S.S.W. on
the other side of the fjord. In that direction the water appeared
to be open, while within the fjord lay solid ice, and out to sea
drift-ice lay everywhere. Through the misty atmosphere we could also
distinguish several islands. [58] Here, too, as we usually found in
the morning, a great quantity of ice had drifted in in the course of
the night--great, flat, and thin floes, which had settled themselves
in front of us--and it looked as if we should have hard work to get out
into open water. Things went a little better than we expected, however,
and we got through before it closed in entirely. In front of us now lay
open water right past the promontory far ahead; the weather was good,
and everything seemed to promise a successful day. As it began to blow
a little from the fjord, and we hoped it might become a sailing-wind,
we put in beside a little rocky island, which looked just like a great
stone [59] sticking up out of the sea, and there rigged up mast and
sail. But the sailing-wind came to nothing, and we were soon obliged to
unrig and take to paddling. We had not paddled far when the wind went
round to the opposite quarter, the southwest. It increased rapidly,
and soon the sea ran high, the sky became overcast in the south,
and it looked as if the weather might become stormy. We were still
several miles from the land on the other side of the fjord, and we
might have many hours of hard paddling before we gained it. This land,
too, looked far from inviting, as it lay there, entirely covered with
glacier from the summit right to the shore; only in one place did a
little rock emerge. To leeward we had the margin of the shore-ice,
low, and affording no protection. The waves broke right upon it,
and it would not be a good place to seek refuge in, should such a
proceeding become necessary; it would be best to get in under land
and see how the weather would turn out. We did not like the prospect
of once more being enclosed in the drift-ice; we had had enough of
that by this time, so we made for some land which lay a little way
behind us, and looked very inviting. Should matters turn out badly,
a good place for wintering in might be found there.
Scarcely had I set foot on land when I saw a bear a little way up
the shore and drew up our kayaks to go and shoot it. In the meantime
it came shambling along the shore towards us, so we lay down quietly
behind the kayaks and waited. When close up to us it caught sight of
our footprints in the snow, and while it was sniffing at them Johansen
sent a bullet behind its shoulder. The bear roared and tried to run,
but the bullet had gone through the spine, and the hind part of its
body was paralyzed and refused to perform its functions. In perplexity
the bear sat down, and bit and tore its hind-paws until the blood
flowed; it was as if it were chastising them to make them do their
duty. Then it tried again to move away, but with the same result; the
hind part of its body was no longer amenable to discipline, and dragged
behind, so that it could only shuffle along on its fore-legs, going
round in a ring. A ball through the skull put an end to its sufferings.
When we had skinned it we made an excursion inland to inspect our new
domain, and were now not a little surprised to see two walruses lying
quietly on the ice close to the spot where I had first caught sight
of the bear. This seemed to me to show how little heed walruses pay
to bears, who will never attack them if they can help it. I had more
decisive proofs of this subsequently. In the sea beyond we also saw
a walrus, which kept putting up its head and breathing so hard that
it could be heard a long way off. A little later I saw him approach
the edge of the ice and disappear, only to appear again in the
tidal channel close to the shore, a good way from the edge of the
ice. He struck his great tusks into the edge of the ice, while he
lay breathing hard, just like an exhausted swimmer. Then he raised
himself high up on his tusks, and looked across the ice towards the
others lying there, and then dived down again. He soon reappeared,
with a great deal of noise, farther in, and the same performance
was gone through again. A walrus's head is not a beautiful object
as it appears above the ice. With its huge tusks, its coarse whisker
bristles, and clumsy shape, there is something wild and goblin-like
about it which, I can easily understand, might inspire fear in more
superstitious times, and give rise to the idea of fabulous monsters,
with which in ancient days these seas were thought to swarm. At last
the walrus came up in the hole beside which the others were lying,
and raised himself a little way up on to the edge of the ice by his
tusks; but upon this the bigger of the two, a huge old bull, suddenly
awoke to life. He grunted menacingly, and moved about restlessly. The
new-comer bowed his head respectfully down to the ice, but soon pulled
himself cautiously up on to the floe, so as to get a hold with his
fore-paddle, and then drew himself a little way in. Now the old bull
was thoroughly roused. He turned round, bellowed, and floundered up
to the new-comer in order to dig his enormous tusks into his back. The
latter, who appeared to be the old bull's equal both as regards tusks
and size, bowed humbly, and laid his head down upon the ice just like
a slave before his sultan. The old bull returned to his companion,
and lay quietly down as before, but no sooner did the new-comer stir,
after having lain for some time in this servile posture, than the
old bull grunted and thrust at him, and he once more respectfully
drew back. This was repeated several times. At length, after much
manoeuvring backward and forward, the new-comer succeeded in drawing
himself on to the floe, and finally up beside the others. I thought the
tender passion must have something to do with these proceedings; but
I discovered afterwards that all three were males. And it is in this
friendly manner that walruses receive their guests. It appears to be a
specially chosen member of the flock that has these hospitable duties
to perform. I am inclined to think it is the leader, who is asserting
his dignity, and wishes to impress upon every new-comer that he is to
be obeyed. These animals must be exceedingly sociable, when, in spite
of such treatment, they thus constantly seek one another's society,
and always lie close together. When we returned a little later to
look at them another had arrived, and by the following morning six
lay there side by side. It is not easy to believe that these lumps
lying on the ice are living animals. With head drawn in and hind-legs
flat beneath the body, they will lie motionless hour after hour,
looking like enormous sausages. It is easy to see that these fellows
lie there in security, and fearful of nothing in the world.
After having seen as much as we wanted of the walruses at close
quarters, we went back, prepared a good meal from the newly
slaughtered bear, and lay down to sleep. On the shore below the tent,
the ivory-gulls were making a fearful hubbub. They had gathered in
scores from all quarters, and could not agree as to the fair division
of the bear's entrails; they fought incessantly, filling the air with
their angry cries. It is one of nature's unaccountable freaks to have
made this bird so pretty, while giving it such an ugly voice. At a
little distance the burgomasters sat solemnly looking on and uttering
their somewhat more melodious notes. Out in the sea the walruses were
blowing and bellowing incessantly, but everything passed unheeded by
the two weary warriors in the tent; they slept soundly, with the bare
ground for their couch. In the middle of the night we were awakened,
however, by a peculiar sound; it was just like some one whimpering
and crying, and making great ado. I started up, and looked out of
the peep-hole. Two bears were standing down beside our bear's flesh,
a she-bear and her young one, and both sniffing at the bloody marks
in the snow, while the she-bear wailed as if mourning for a dear
departed one. I lost no time in seizing my gun, and was just putting it
cautiously out, when the she-bear caught sight of me at the peep-hole,
and off they both set, the mother in front, and the young one trotting
after as fast as it could. I just let them run--we had really no use
for them--and then we turned over and went to sleep again.