CHAPTER IV

JANUARY 1 TO MAY 17, 1896

New-year's-day came with fine, clear weather, moonlight, and about

43 degrees of cold. The ice kept remarkably quiet for about a month,

but on February 4th the pressure commenced again. It was not of long

duration, but made a great noise while it lasted; the ice all round

us roared and screamed as if a tremendous gale were blowing. I took

a walk on the ice for the purpose, if possible, of observing the

pressure more closely, but could see nothing. The following day we

again sallied forth on the ice, and found a comparatively new channel

and a large new pressure-ridge about a mile from the ship. It was

impossible, however, to get any comprehensive view of the state of

the ice, as it was still too dark, even at midday. The surface of the

snow was hard and good, but the hollow edges of the snow-drifts were

so deceptive that we every now and then tumbled head over heels.

On February 7th Scott-Hansen, Henriksen, Amundsen, and myself took a

run northward from the ship. The farther north we went the more broken

and uneven the ice became, and at last we had to turn, as we came to

a new and wide lane. During the morning a dark bank of clouds had

been gathering in the southwest, and now the fog got so thick that

it was not easy to find our way back to the ship again. At last we

heard the voice of "Sussi," and from the top of a pressure-ridge which

we ascended we got sight of the crow's-nest and the main-topmast of

the Fram, towering above the fog, only a little way off. Close as we

were to the ship, it was not so easy to get on board again. We were

stopped by a large lane which had formed just abaft the ship during

our absence, and we had to skirt it a long way westward before we could

cross it. Those on board told us that the opening of the lane had given

the ship a great shock, very much like the shock felt when we blasted

the Fram loose in August. At 12.30 at night we felt another shock in

the ice. When we came on deck we found that the ice had cracked about

30 yards abaft the ship, parallel with the large lane. The crack passed

along the side of the nearest long-boat, and right through one of the

coal-heaps. On the heap a barrel was standing, which would have been

lost if the crack had not divided itself in front of it at about right

angles and then joined again, after passing through the outer edges

of the heap. On the island thus formed the barrel and some coal-bags

floated about in the channel. However, we soon got the island hooked to

shore, and the coals were all saved, with the exception of a sack of

one hundredweight, which went to the bottom. By way of making sure,

I gave orders that the depot should be inspected once during each

watch, or oftener if the pressure began again.

On February 13th Henriksen, Amundsen, and I made an expedition

southward to examine into the state of the ice in that direction. We

found that it was very uneven there, too, and full of comparatively

new lanes. The channel abaft the ship widened during the forenoon, and

gave off such masses of fog that we soon lost sight of the ship. The

next day it opened still more, and on the 16th there was a very strong

pressure in it. The ice trembled and roared like a great waterfall,

and splintered into small horizontal flakes on the surface. The

pressure was repeated almost every day, and more cracks and lanes

were constantly to be seen for some time. But after that the ice was

comparatively quiet until April 10th, when it again began to be very

restless. On the night of the 15th the pressure was very strong in

the lane on the port side. We were obliged to haul up the log-line

with the bag and shift the sounding apparatus. The same night the

ice split under two of the provision depots, so that we had to get

them closer to the ship.

On the morning of the 21st we were awakened by a violent pressure

astern. Nordahl came down and woke me, saying that the ice threatened

to rush in over the vessel. We found that a tremendous ice-floe had

been pressed up over the edge of the ice astern, and came gliding

along unchecked until it ran right against our stern. But the Fram

had borne shocks like this before, and now again she held her own

well. The ice was split against the strong stern, and lay shattered

on both sides of the ship on a level with the edge of the half-deck

all the way forward to the mizzen-shrouds. The ship now lay almost

loose in her berth, and the ice round about was broken up into a mass

of smaller floes. As these were passed down by the heavy drifts, it

was hard work to get round the ship, as one ran the risk of plumping

down into the slush at any moment.

Late in the afternoon of May 13th the lane between the forge and

the ship began to widen very much, so that in a couple of hours'

time it was about 90 yards wide. From the crow's-nest I saw on the

southeast a large channel extending southward as far as I could

see, and the channel abaft us extended to the northeast as far as

my sight could reach. I therefore went out in the "pram" to try to

find a passage through to the channel on the southeast, but without

result. After supper I was off again southward, but I could not find

any thoroughfare. At 10 o'clock in the evening I again went up in the

crow's-nest, and now saw that the channel had widened considerably

and reached away southward as far as the eye could reach, with dark

air over it.

Scott-Hansen and I deliberated as to what was to be done. Although

I did not believe it would do much good under the circumstances, we

decided upon an attempt to blast the vessel free. We agreed to try some

mines right aft, and all hands were at once put to this work. First

we fired six powder-mines at about the same spot, but without much

result. Then we made an unsuccessful trial with gun-cotton. At 3

o'clock in the morning we concluded operations for the time being,

as the ice was so thick that the drill did not reach through,

and the slush so bad that it was impossible to get the ice-floes

shoved away. At 8 o'clock the next morning we laid two new mines,

which Scott-Hansen and Nordahl had made ready during the night, but

neither of them would go off. One or two of the mines which we had

fired during the day had produced some effect, but so little that it

was not worth while to continue. We were obliged to wait for a more

favorable condition of the ice.

The weather during the two first weeks of January was settled and

good, with clear air and 40 to 50 degrees of cold. The coldest day

was January 15th, when the thermometer showed from -50° C. (-58°

Fahr.) to -52° C. (-61.6° Fahr.). The last two weeks of January the

temperature was considerably higher, but dropped again in February,

until on the 13th it was about -48° C. (-54.4° Fahr.), after which it

was somewhat higher: about -35° C. (-41° Fahr.) during the remainder of

February. On March 5th the thermometer again showed 40 degrees of cold;

but from that time the temperature rose quickly. Thus on March 12th

it was -12°, on the 27th -6°, with a few colder days of course now and

then. April was somewhat cold throughout, about -25°; the coldest day

was the 13th, with -34°. The first week of May was also somewhat cold,

about -20° to -25°, the second week somewhat milder, about -14°, and

on May 21st we had the first rise above freezing-point of this year,

the maximum thermometer showing at the evening observation +0.9°.

Some days during this winter were remarkable for very great and sudden

changes in temperature. One instance was Friday, February 21st. In the

morning it was cloudy, with a stiff breeze from the southeast. Late in

the afternoon the wind suddenly changed to the southwest, and slackened

off to a velocity of 14 feet; and the temperature went down from -7°

in the morning to -25° shortly before the change in the wind, rapidly

rising again to -6.2° at 8 o'clock P.M.

In my Journal I wrote of this day as follows: "I was walking on deck

to-night, and before I went down had a lookout astern. When I put my

head out of the tent I felt so warm a current of air that my first

thought was that there must be fire somewhere on board. I soon made

out, however, that it was the temperature which had risen so greatly

since I was under the open sky. Scott-Hansen and I afterwards went

up and placed a thermometer under the ship's tent, where it showed

-19°, while the thermometer outside showed only -6°. We walked for

some time backward and forward, and breathed the warm air in deep

draughts. It was beyond all description pleasant to feel the mild wind

caress one's cheek. Yes, there is a great difference between living

in such a temperature and daily breathing an air 40° to 50° below

freezing-point. Personally, I am not very much incommoded by it, but

many complain that they feel a pain deep in the chest. I only find when

I have been taking a good deal of exercise that my mouth is parched."

The following day, February 22d, it first blew from the S.S.E., but

later the wind changed to half a gale from the west, with a velocity

of 55 feet per second. The barometer showed the lowest reading during

the whole voyage up till then--namely, 723.6 mm. The air was so full

of drifting snow that we could not see 6 feet from the ship, and the

thermometer-house out on the ice was in a few minutes so packed with

drift-snow that it was impossible to read off the instruments. It

was not very comfortable down in the saloon, as it was impossible

to create any draught. We made unsuccessful attempts to light the

stoves, but soon had to take the fire away, to prevent suffocation by

smoke. Sunday night the storm abated, but on Monday and Tuesday there

was again half a gale, with snowfall and drift, and nearly 28 degrees

of frost. Not before Wednesday afternoon did the weather improve

in earnest; it then cleared up, and the wind slackened to 20 feet,

so both we and the dogs could get out on the ice and take a little

exercise. The dogs wanted to get out of their kennels in the morning,

but even they found the weather too bad, and slunk in again.

We had a good many rough-weather days like this, not only in the

winter, but also in the summer; but as a rule the rough weather lasted

only a day at a time, and did not involve any great discomfort. On the

contrary, we had no objection to a little rough weather, especially

when it was accompanied by a fresh breeze that might drift the ice

speedily westward. Of course, what most interested us was the drifting

and everything connected with it. Our spirits were often far better

in rough weather than on glittering days of clear weather, with only

a slight breeze or a calm and a brilliant aurora borealis at night.

With the drift we had reason to be well satisfied, especially in

January and the first week in February. During that time we drifted

all the way from the 48th to the 25th degree of longitude, while our

latitude kept steady--about 84° 50'. The best drift we had was from

January 28th to February 3d, when there was a constant stiff breeze

blowing from the east, which on Sunday, February 2d, increased to a

speed of 58 feet 6 inches to 69 feet a second, or even more during

squalls. This was, however, the only real gale during the whole of our

voyage. On Saturday, February 1st, we passed the longitude of Vardö,

and celebrated the occasion by some festivities in the evening. On

February 15th we were in 84° 20' north latitude and 23° 28' east

longitude, and we now drifted some distance back, so that on February

29th we were in 27° east longitude. Afterwards the drift westward

was very slow, but it was better towards the south, so that on May

16th we were at 83° 45' north latitude and 12° 50' east longitude.

The drift gave occasion to many bets, especially when it was good,

and spirits proportionately high. One day at the end of January,

when the line showed that we were drifting briskly in the right

direction, Henriksen found his voice and said: "We have never made

a bet before, captain; suppose we make a bet now as to how far south

we have got." "All right," I said, and we accordingly made a bet of a

ration of salmon, I that we were not south of 84° 40', or between 40'

and 41', and he said we were between 36' and 37'. Scott-Hansen then

took an observation, and found that Henriksen had lost. The latitude

was 84° 40.2'.

Since the last bird of passage left us we had nowhere seen a single

living creature, right up to February 28th. Not even a bear had been

seen during our many rambles on the ice.

At 6 A.M. Pettersen came rushing into the cabin, and told me that he

saw two bears near the ship. I hurried up on deck, but it was still so

dark that I could not at once get sight of them, although Pettersen

was pointing in their direction. At last I saw them trotting along

slowly towards the ship. About 150 yards away they stopped. I tried to

take aim at them, but as it was still too dark to be sure of my shot,

I waited a little, hoping that they would come nearer. They stood for

a time staring at the ship, but then wheeled round and sneaked off

again. I asked Pettersen if he had something to fry which would smell

really nice and strong and attract the bears back. He stood ruminating

a little, then ran down-stairs, and came up again with a pan of fried

butter and onions. "I am blowed if I haven't got something savory

for them," he said, and tossed the pan up on the rail. The bears had

long been out of sight. It was cold, 35 degrees I should think, and I

hurried down to get my fur coat on, but before I had done so Bentzen

came running down and told me to make haste, as the bears were coming

back. We tore on deck at full speed, and now had the animals well

within range, about 100 yards away. I squatted down behind the rail,

took a good aim, and--missed fire. The bears were a little startled,

and seemed to be contemplating a retreat. I quickly cocked the rifle

again and fired at the largest one. It fell head over heels, with a

tremendous roar. Then I fired at the second one. It first turned a fine

somersault before it fell. After that they both got up and took a few

steps forward, but then they both came down again. I gave them each

one of the two cartridges I had left, but still this was not enough

for these long-lived animals. Pettersen was very much interested in

the sport. Without any weapon he ran down the gangway and away towards

the bears, but then he suddenly had misgivings and called to Bentzen to

follow him. Bentzen, who had no weapons either, was naturally not very

keen about running after two wounded bears. After getting some more

cartridges I met Pettersen midway between the bears and the Fram. The

animals were now crawling along a pressure-ridge. I stopped at a

distance of 30 yards, but first of all I had to shout to Pettersen,

who, in his eagerness, hurried on before me, and now stood just in

the line of fire. At last the great she-bear got her death-wound,

and I ran along the pressure-ridge in order to see where the other

one had got to. Suddenly it stuck its head up over the ridge, and I

at once sent a shot through its neck close up to the head.

All hands were then called out, and great was the rejoicing. Our

mouths watered at the thought of the delicious fresh meat we should

now enjoy for a long time. It was about 16 months since we had

last shot a bear, and for 14 months we had not had any fresh meat,

except one or two dishes of seals and birds shot during the summer. We

blessed Pettersen's savory frying-pan. The bears were cut up and made

into steaks, rissoles, roasts, etc. Even the bones we laid aside

to make soup of. The ribs were the most succulent. We had them for

dinner, and everybody voted that a sirloin of bear was a dish for a

king. Accordingly we all ate very large helpings, with heartfelt wishes

that it might not be long before some bears again paid us a visit.

After this Pettersen became so infatuated with bear-hunting that he

talked of it early and late. One day he got it into his head that

some bears would come during the night. He had such a belief in his

forebodings that he made all possible preparations for the night and

got Bentzen to join forces with him. Bentzen had the morning watch,

and was to call him as soon as the bears appeared. A merry fellow,

who wanted to make sure of seeing Pettersen bear-hunting, had taken the

precaution to hang a little bell on Bentzen's rifle, so that he could

hear when they started. Unfortunately no bear appeared. Pettersen,

however, had so set his heart on shooting a bear, that I had to promise

to let him have a shot some time when I myself was by and had a charge

ready, in case the inconceivable should happen, and Pettersen should

miss--a mishap which he would find it very hard to get over.

On Sunday, March 8th, we had another instance of a sudden change in

temperature like that of February 21st. In the morning it was cloudy,

with a fresh breeze from the E.N.E., but at 3 P.M. the wind fell,

and at 6 o'clock changed to a light S.S.E. breeze. At the same time

the temperature rose from -26° to -8°, and it was very pleasant to

saunter round on the half-deck in the evening and breathe the mild air.

On March 4th we saw the sun for the first time. It should have

been visible the day before, but then it was too cloudy. By way of

compensation it was now a double festival day, as we could celebrate

both the return of the sun and Nordahl's birthday in one.

On March 14th it was one year since Nansen and Johansen commenced

their long ice-journey. The day was celebrated by a better dinner,

with coffee afterwards and a punch-bowl in the evening.

Besides the usual scientific observations, which were continued without

any interruptions worth mentioning, we also took soundings during the

winter, but did not reach bottom with a 3000-metre line (1625 fathoms).

On April 13th Scott-Hansen and I took an observation with the

theodolite, and Nordahl an observation with the sextant, on the natural

horizon. According to the theodolite, the latitude was 84° 11.5', and

by the sextant 84° 13'. We had previously ascertained that there was

a difference of about two minutes between the artificial and natural

horizons. In using the natural horizon a smaller latitude is obtained,

even though there is no mirage. The deviation will, however, under

favorable circumstances, seldom exceed two minutes. But if there is

much mirage, it becomes almost impossible to obtain a fairly correct

result. As a rule, therefore, in taking observations in the drift-ice,

one has to use the artificial horizon or theodolite, if a very exact

result is desired.

As the time passed on towards spring the days became longer, and

more rifts and channels were formed round the ship. It was time

to think of beginning preparations for forcing the Fram ahead as

soon as sufficiently large openings should appear in the ice. The

things stored on the ice had been frequently shifted about in the

course of the winter, but as the ice became more broken up, it was

of little use to shift them. So in the middle of April we took the

winter depot on board and stowed it away in the main hold. We also

took on board the sacks from the coal depot, while the barrels and

hogsheads, together with the dog-biscuits, kayaks, and sledges, were

for the present left upon the ice. The sun at this time became so

strong that on April 19th the snow began to melt away on the tent;

along the ship's side it had been melting for several days.

The first harbinger of spring we saw this year was a snow-bunting,

which made its appearance on the evening of April 25th. It took up

permanent quarters in one of the sealing-boats, where it was treated

with groats and scraps of food, and soon got very tame. It favored us

with its presence for several days, and then flew away. The Fram had

evidently been a welcome resting-place for it; it had eaten its fill,

and gathered new strength for the remainder of its journey. On May 3d

we were again visited by a snow-bunting, and a couple of days later

by two more. I fancy it was our former guest, who in the meantime

had found its mate, and now returned with her to call and thank us

for our hospitality. They remained with us about an hour, and did

their best to cheer us with their chirping and twittering; but as

the dogs would not give them any peace, but chased them everywhere,

they finally took flight, and did not return again.

After the first few days in May we removed the temporary deck, which

had been laid over the davits, cleared the main-deck, and took both

the sealing-boats and the long-boats on board. The gangway was also

removed, and a ladder put in its place. Next we shipped the rest

of the coal depot, the dog provisions, and the sledges; in fact,

we took in everything that was left on the ice. All that was now

left to be done was to get the engine ready for getting up steam,

and this we set about on May 18th.

The dogs got on well in their kennels on the ice, in spite of

the prolonged and strong cold, and we had very little trouble with

them. But after the first month in the new year some of the bigger dogs

became so fierce towards the smaller ones that we had to take two of

the worst tyrants on board and keep them locked up for a time. They

also did a good deal of mischief whenever they had an opportunity. One

day, for instance, they began to gnaw at the kayaks that were placed

on the top of the largest dog-kennel. However, we got hold of them

in time before any serious damage was done, and cleared away the snow

round the kennel, so that they could not climb up again to go on with

this amusement.

On February 10th one of "Sussi's" puppies littered. We took her on

board, and laid her in a large box filled with shavings. We allowed

her to keep only one of her five pups; we killed two at once, one

was born dead, and she had devoured her first-born, the cannibal!

Some days later "Kara" had a litter. She was the only one of the dogs

who manifested any maternal instinct. It was quite touching to see her,

and we felt sorry to have to take the pups away from her; but we were

forced to make away with them, not only because it was impossible to

bring them up at that time of the year, but also because the mother

herself was only a puppy, delicate and diminutive.

In the beginning of March the October whelps were let out all day,

and on March 5th we put them, with the older dogs, under the hood

of the fore-companion. In the evening the cover was put on, and when

during the night the hole near the edge of the ice became filled up

with snow, it got so warm in the hutch that the hoar-frost and ice

melted and all the dogs got wet. The pups felt the cold terribly

when they were let out in the morning, and we therefore took them

down into the saloon until they were warm again.

CHAPTER V

THE THIRD SUMMER

On the Seventeenth of May the Fram was in about 83° 45' north latitude

and 12° 50' east longitude. We again celebrated the day with a flag

procession, as on the previous Seventeenth of May. Mogstad sat on

the bearskins in the sledge, driving a team of seven dogs, and with

the band (i.e., Bentzen) at his side. Just as we were arranging the

procession for the march upon the ice, five female narwhals suddenly

appeared, and immediately afterwards a small seal was seen in the

lane abreast of the ship--an enlivening sight, which we accepted as

a good omen for the coming summer.

The great hummock, which was the scene of our merry-makings on the

Seventeenth of May last year, was now so far away and so difficult to

reach on account of lanes and rugged ice that the festivities in the

open air were limited to the flag procession. The cortège took its way

southward, past the thermometer-hut, to the lane, thence northward

along the lane, and then back to the ship, where it dispersed, but

not before it had been photographed.

At 12 o'clock a salute was fired, after which we sat down to an

excellent dinner, with genuine "Château la Fram," vintage 1896. [91]

The table was laid with great taste, and there was an elegant paper

napkin at each cover, with the word Fram in the corner and the

following inscription:

"The Seventeenth May, our memorial day,

Recalls what our fathers have done;

It cheers us and heartens us on to the fray,

And shows us that where there's a will there's a way,

And, with right on our side, we may hope to display

The proud banner of victory won."

During the dinner speeches were made in honor of the day, of Norway,

of Nansen and Johansen, etc.

During the days following May 17th we were occupied in getting

the engine and its appurtenances ready for work and clearing the

rudder-well and the propeller-well. First we attempted to pump water

into the boiler through a hose let down into a hole out upon the

ice. But the cold was still so intense that the water froze in the

pump. We were obliged to carry water in buckets and pour it into the

boiler by means of a canvas hose, made for the occasion and carried

from the boiler to the hatchway above the engine-room. Amundsen thought

at first that he had got the bottom cock clear so that he could let

the water run direct into the boiler, but it soon became evident

that it was too slow work as long as there was still any ice around

the cock. Later on we hoisted the funnel and lighted the furnaces,

and on the afternoon of May 19th the steam was up for the first time

since we got into the ice in the autumn of 1893.

Next we cut away as much of the ice as possible in the propeller-well,

and carried a steam hose down into it. It was very effectual. We

also attempted to use the steam for melting away the ice in the

propeller-sheath around the shaft, but without apparent success. We

easily procured water for the boiler now by filling the water-tank

on the deck with ice and melting it with steam.

After supper we went down into the engine-room to try to turn

the shaft, and finally we succeeded in giving it a three-quarters

turn. This was victory, and we were all fully satisfied with the

day's work.

The following day we melted away the ice in the rudder-well by steam,

and at 1.30 P.M. Amundsen began to "move" the engine. Some large pieces

of ice floated up from the rudder-stock or frame; we fished them up,

and everything was in order. Amundsen let the engine work some time,

and everybody was down with him to see the wonder with their own eyes,

and to be convinced that he really had got it to turn round.

This was quite an event for us. It filled us with renewed courage

and hope of soon getting out of our long captivity, though the way

might be ever so long and weary. The Fram was no longer a helpless

ball, tossed to and fro at the caprice of the drift-ice. Our gallant

ship had awakened to renewed life after her year-long winter sleep,

and we rejoiced to feel the first pulsations of her strongly beating

heart. It seemed as if the Fram understood us, and wanted to say:

"Onward! southward! homeward!"

The state of the ice around the ship, however, was still far

from being so favorable as to give us any prospect of getting out

just at present. It is true that symptoms of spring began to show

themselves; the temperature rose, and the snow vanished rapidly;

but we still remained at about the same latitude where we had been

lying for months--namely, at about 84°. From the crow's-nest, indeed,

we could see a large channel, which extended southward as far as the

eye could reach; but to get through the belt of ice, over 200 yards

wide, which separated us from it, was impossible before the thick

pack-ice slackened somewhat. We therefore made no attempt to blast

the ship free, but devoted our time to various duties on board, did

whatever was left undone, got the steam windlass in order, examined

all our cordage, and so forth.

In the hole in the ice which was always kept open for the striking of

the log-line, we had placed the heads of the two bears, so that the

amphipodes might pick off the meat for us, a task which they usually

perform quickly and effectually. One day, when a swarm of amphipodes

appeared above the bears' heads, Scott-Hansen caught a lot of them in a

bag-net, and had them cooked for supper, intending to give us a regular

treat. But we were sadly disappointed. There was not a particle of meat

on the miserable creatures--nothing but shells and emptiness. If we

put a couple of dozen into our mouths at a time they tasted somewhat

like shrimps. But I am afraid that were we limited to such fare,

and nothing else, we should soon diminish unpleasantly in weight.

In the later days of May the prospects became brighter, as the wind

changed to half a gale from the east and north. The ice began to

drift slowly towards the southwest, and continued to slacken at the

same time, so that on May 29th we could see to the southward a good

deal of open water, with dark air above, as far as the eye could reach.

After several requests had been made to me, I decided to make an

attempt at blasting the vessel clear. At 1 P.M. we set off a mine

of 110 pounds of gunpowder. It had an astonishingly good effect,

wrenching up heavy masses of ice and sending them rushing out into

the channel. Our hopes revived, and it really seemed that another

such blasting would entirely liberate the vessel. Immediately after

dinner we went to work to lay out another large mine 20 yards abaft

the stern. It gave us an incredible amount of work to make a hole

in the ice to get the charge down. We first bored a hole; then we

tried to make it larger by blowing it out by means of small gunpowder

charges, and later with gun-cotton; but it was of no avail. Then we

had to resort to lances, ice-picks, steam--in short, to every possible

means; but all in vain. The ice had, however, got so cracked in all

directions, owing to the many charges which had been exploded in

the same place, that we presumed that a large mine in the log-line

hole would blow up the whole mass. As the ice was thinner at that

part, the mine was lowered to a depth of 10 yards. It exploded with

terrific effect. A mighty column of water was forced as high as the

foretop. It did not consist of water alone, but contained a good

many lumps of ice, which rained down for some distance round. One

piece of over one hundredweight came down right through the tent and

on to the forecastle; other pieces flew over the vessel, and fell on

the starboard side. Scott-Hansen and Henriksen, who were standing on

the ice at the electric battery used for firing the mine, were not

pleasantly situated when the mine exploded. When the shock came they

of course started to run as fast as their legs would carry them, but

they did not get away quickly enough to reach the deep snow. The pieces

of ice rained unmercifully down upon their backs. After a great deal

of trouble we laid and fired two other large gunpowder mines, besides

some smaller ones, but without much effect. We then began to bore holes

for two gun-cotton mines, which were to be fired simultaneously. But

when we had got down two and a half drill-lengths the screw broke,

and before we could proceed new grooves had to be filed on the other

drill before we could use it again. At 12 o'clock at night we knocked

off work, after having been at it unceasingly since the morning.

Next day at 6 o'clock the boring was continued. But the ice was so

hard and difficult to work at that, although four men were handling

the drill, we had to erect a small crane with tackle to hoist the

drill out every time it got clogged up. The ice was so thick that

it took four drill-lengths (about 20 feet) to make a hole through

it. One of the gun-cotton mines was now lowered into the hole, while

the other was put beneath the edge of an old channel by means of a long

pole. Both mines were fired simultaneously, but only one exploded. We

connected the wires, and then the other went off too. But the result

was far from answering our expectations. Although the large mines

were carried down to a depth of 20 yards where the ice was thin,

the resistance was too great for us.

The blasting was now discontinued till June 2d, when during the night

the ice opened up along the old lane close to the vessel. First we

fired a gun-cotton mine right abaft. It took effect, and split the ice

close to the stern. Next we drilled a hole about 16 feet deep right

abreast of the ship, and loaded it with 10 prismer, or 330 grammes, of

gun-cotton (equivalent to about 30 pounds of ordinary gunpowder); but

as I thought it would be too risky to explode a mine of this strength

so near the vessel, we first fired a small gunpowder mine of 11 pounds,

to see what effect it would have. The result was insignificant, so the

large mine was fired. It made things lively indeed! The ship received

such a shock that one of the paintings and a rifle fell down on the

floor in the saloon, and the clock in my cabin was hurled from the

wall. It was evidently felt in the engine-room as well, for Amundsen

had a bottle and a lamp-chimney smashed. On the ice the explosion

took such good effect that the ship nearly broke loose at one blow;

she was now merely hanging on a little forward and aft. With a little

more work we might have got quite clear the same evening, but I left

her as she was to avoid the trouble of mooring her. Instead of that

we had something extra after supper; we considered that we had done

such a good stroke of work that day that we deserved a reward.

Next morning we blew away the ice that held our bow. I myself took a

pickaxe and commenced to hack away at the ice which held the stern

fast. I had hardly been at work at this for more than four or five

minutes before the vessel suddenly gave a lurch, settled a little

deeper at the stern, and moved away from the edge of the ice, until

the hawsers became taut. She now lay about 6 inches higher at the bow

than when she froze fast in the autumn. Thus the Fram was free, and

ready to force her way through the ice as soon as the circumstances

would permit. But we were still unable to move.

Even in the month of May there had been signs of whales and seals

in the channels, and an occasional sea-bird had also put in an

appearance. During the months of June and July there was still more

animal life around us, so that we could soon go in for hunting to

our hearts' content. During the summer we not only shot a number of

fulmars, black guillemots, skuas, auks, and little auks, but also a

couple of eider-ducks, and even a brace of broad-beaked snipe. We also

shot a number of small seals, but only got hold of six; the others

sank so rapidly that we could not reach them in time. As a matter

of course, we welcomed every opportunity of a hunting expedition,

especially when there was a bear in the case. It was not often he did

us the honor, but the greater was the excitement and interest when

his appearance was announced. Then the lads would get lively, and

hastily prepare to give the visitor a suitable reception. Altogether

we killed sixteen or seventeen full-grown bears during the summer,

and a young one, which we captured alive, but had to kill later on,

as it made a fearful noise on board.

One night in the beginning of June, when Henriksen was on his way to

the observation-house to take the readings of the instruments, a bear

suddenly came upon him. Before starting on his scientific quest he

had been prudent enough to go up on the bridge to have a look around

and see whether the coast was clear, but he did not observe anything

suspicious. When he approached the observation-house he suddenly heard

a hissing sound close by, and caught sight of a grinning bear, which

was standing at a pressure-ridge staring at him. Naturally Henriksen

felt anything but comfortable at this unexpected meeting, unarmed as he

was. He at first considered whether he should beat a dignified retreat,

or whether he should fly at the top of his speed. Both parties were

equally far from the vessel, and if the bear had evil intentions it

might be advisable to retreat without delay before he approached any

nearer. He started off as fast as he could, and was not sure whether

the beast was not at his heels; but he reached the vessel safely and

seized his gun, which was standing ready on deck. Before he came

out upon the ice again the dogs had scented the bear, and at once

attacked him. The bear at first jumped up on the observation-house,

but the dogs followed, so down he went again, and with such alacrity,

too, that Henriksen had no time to fire. The bear started off to

the nearest channel, where he disappeared both from the dogs and

the hunter. In his eagerness "Gorm" jumped out upon some pieces of

ice which were floating in the thick brash in the channel, and now

he was afraid to jump back again. There he sat howling. I heard the

wailing, and soon caught sight of him from the crow's-nest, whereupon

Scott-Hansen and I started off and rescued him.

Some days later, at about 10 o'clock in the morning, we heard Nordahl

crying, "Bear!" and all hurried on deck with our rifles. But the

dogs had had the start of us, and had already put the bears to

flight. Mogstad perceived, however, from the crow's-nest, that the

dogs had come up with them at a small lane, where they had taken

the water, and he then came down to tell me. He and I started off in

pursuit. The condition of the ice was good, and we made rapid progress;

but as we had the wind on our side, it was some time before we could

distinguish the barking of the dogs so as to be able to guide ourselves

by it. Presently I caught sight of one of the dogs behind a small

ridge; soon I saw some more, and at last I sighted the bears. They

were both sitting on a floe in the channel, leaning with their backs

against a big piece of ice. Two of the dogs had jumped out upon the

floe, while the others stood on guard round the channel or pool. The

dogs had played their part well, keeping such a close watch upon the

bears that we had no difficulty in giving them their quietus. They

both tumbled over on the spot; but as they moved slightly, we gave

them a final shot, just to make sure.

Well, there they lay. But to get out to them was not so easy. Finally,

having walked round the pool, we succeeded in getting out upon the

floe from the other side, where the distance from the solid ice was

less and where some small floes formed a kind of bridge. We cleaned the

game, and then tried to haul the bodies over upon the solid ice. This

we accomplished by putting a running noose over the muzzles of the

bears and pulling them through the water to the edge of the ice,

where we pushed some small floes beneath them; and then, with our

united strength, we hauled them up. When homeward bound we met Nordahl,

Pettersen, Bentzen, Henriksen, and the mate, who had guessed from the

report of our guns that there was business on hand, and had started

out to meet us with sledges and harness for the dogs. The sledges

were lashed together, one bear was placed on each, and, with nine dogs

harnessed to them and a man sitting astride each bear, off they went

at such a speed that the rest of us had to run to keep pace with them.

On the night of June 24th we again received a visit from two

bears. Nordahl discovered them when, at 12 o'clock, he went out to

the observation-house; he came running back, and called those who

had not yet gone to bed. But when they hurried out upon the ice the

bears saw them immediately and disappeared.

Three days later a she-bear, with a young cub, came trotting towards

the vessel at noon. We burned some blubber in order to attract them,

but the bear was very cautious, and it was some time before she

approached to within 200 to 300 yards. Then the mate could not restrain

himself any longer and fired, so the rest of us sent her a few shots

at the same time, and she fell after walking a few paces. Some of us

took the "pram" and pulled across to the place, as there was a wide

channel between the bear and the vessel. The cub, poor thing, was a

fine little fellow, with almost perfectly white fur and a dark muzzle;

it was about the size of one of our smallest dogs. When they came

up, he sat down on his mother's body, remained there quite still,

and seeming for the present to take matters calmly. Henriksen put

a strap around his neck, and when the mother was conveyed to the

channel he followed quite willingly, and sat down on her back again

when she was towed across. But when, on arriving at the ship, he

found he was to be separated from his mother and brought on board,

it was quite another story. He resisted with all his strength, and

was in a perfect rage. He got worse when he was let loose under the

companion-hood on board. He carried on like a frenzied being, biting,

tearing, growling, and howling with wild rage, like a veritable fiend,

ceasing only as long as he was occupied in devouring the pieces of

meat thrown to him. Never have I seen in any one creature such a

combination of all the most savage qualities of wild beasts as I

found in this little monster. And he was still quite a cub! In the

evening I gave orders to rid us of this unpleasant passenger, and

Mogstad ended his days with a well-aimed blow of the hatchet.

For about a fortnight we saw no bears, but during the night of July

12th we had a visit from three, one of which, after a hot pursuit,

was killed by Scott-Hansen, the mate, Nordahl, and Bentzen. The dogs,

too, did good service this time. The other two bears sneaked off at

the first shot, and were lost to sight in the fog.

On the evening of July 18th Mogstad and I shot a bear, which we

should hardly have got hold of but for the sagacity and alacrity of

"Bella." The dogs at first attacked him once or twice, but after

a short resistance he jumped into the water, and crossed over two

broad lanes, which it took the dogs a long time to get round. He was

just about to plunge into a third channel when "Bella," who in the

meantime had come round, intercepted him not 20 feet from the edge. At

a distance of 200 or 300 yards Mogstad fired, and was lucky enough

to hit him in the head, bringing him down, and he now made only some

feeble attempts to keep the dogs off. I then sent him a shot behind

the shoulder; but, as he was not quite dead, Mogstad gave him the

final one.

On July 20th the mate shot a large bear, which came swimming across

a channel; and we killed our last bear on the evening of August 6th,

but in such an awkward position that we had to leave the meat, and

it was as much as we could do to get the hide on board.

In the matter of birds, we were also pretty fortunate. For instance,

Scott-Hansen and I one night shot 9 little auks, 1 kittiwake,

and 1 skua, and the following day 21 more little auks and 2 black

guillemots. Henriksen in one day's shooting bagged 18 little auks and

1 black guillemot, and Nordahl, 26 little auks and 1 black guillemot;

and, later on, when there had been an abundance of game for some days,

we killed as many as 30 to 40 birds in the course of a few hours.

This hunting life had not only a beneficial effect upon our spirits,

which occasionally were rather low, but it also gave us an appetite,

which sometimes was quite ravenous. When we were weighed at the end

of the month we found that, whereas some of us had previously been

losing weight, we had now steadily and uniformly increased from the

time when auk's breast, roast guillemot, stewed kittiwake, skua soup,

and last, but not least, ribs of bear, became the daily fare on board.

Indeed, we stood in need of all the encouragement and good living

which our hunting procured us. The state of the ice was anything but

cheering, and the prospect of getting out of it during the present

year became less every day.

During the first days following the release of the Fram the ice

was comparatively quiet; but on June 8th and 9th we had some bad

pressures, especially on the latter day, when the stern of the vessel

was pressed about 6 feet upward, so that the rudder-well was quite

out of the water, while the bow was raised about 2 feet, with 4°

list to port. On the 10th and 11th the pressure was also strong,

especially during the night, from 11.30 P.M. till 3 or 4 A.M.

Finally the ice slackened so much on the morning of June 12th that

there was a prospect of warping the vessel some distance ahead. As

the brash was still very thick we did not think it possible to haul

ourselves along without using the steam windlass, so I gave orders to

start a fire under the boiler. But before steam was up the channel

opened so much that we succeeded in warping the ship through the

narrowest passage. When steam was up we steamed through the pool,

where I had found a good berth for the ship. As the rudder was not

yet shipped I had sometimes to go astern, so as to be able to turn

the vessel. We remained there till June 14th, when the ice slackened a

little, and we saw a channel in a S.S.W. direction, and determined to

make for it. So we lighted the furnace, shipped the rudder, and made

at full speed for a narrow rift, which led into the channel. Time

after time we forced the vessel into the rift, but all in vain:

the edges would not budge a hair's-breadth. I let the vessel remain

for some time, working at full speed endeavoring to force the rift,

altering the position of the rudder occasionally. This manoeuvre was

partially successful, as we got the vessel into the rift as far as the

fore-rigging. But that was all we could do. The opening began to close

up, and we had to return and moor in the same place as before. This

was all the more provoking as the whole opening was not longer than

about three-fourths the ship's length.

We remained there till the evening of the 27th, when the ice slackened

so much that I decided to make a new attempt. We got up steam and

commenced to force the ice at 11.30. It was slow work in the heavy

ice, and at 2 o'clock we had to moor the ship, having advanced about 2

miles S.E. by S. We tried the engine this time as a compound engine,

with a favorable result. It made 160 revolutions per minute; but the

consumption of coal was of course correspondingly greater, almost

twice as much as usual. We remained there about a week, until on July

3d the ice opened sufficiently to allow us to advance about 3 miles

through a channel, which ran S.S.W. During the night between the 6th

and the 7th we made another attempt to force the ice, but had only

made about 1 mile when we had to moor again.

The southerly wind which predominated at that time held the ice

thickly packed together, and there was no drift to speak of. On the

other hand, there had been since the middle of June a good deal

of current, owing to the set of the tide. We could not, however,

observe that the current really flowed in any definite direction;

sometimes the line would show every point in the compass during the

twenty-four hours. The current was, however, often very strong,

and would occasionally spin the ice-floes around in the channels

in a way that made you uncomfortable to look at it. The ship, too,

would often receive such violent shocks from these dancing floes and

blocks of ice that loose objects tumbled down, and the whole rigging

shook. The sea continued very deep. For instance, on July 6th we could

not get bottom at 3000 metres (1625 fathoms); but two days later--we

were then about 83° 2' north latitude--we took soundings and reached

bottom at 3400 metres (1841 fathoms).

On July 6th we succeeded in warping the ship some two or three short

stretches at a time, but it was slow and hard work: the ice was bad,

and the contrary wind impeded us very much. But though progress was

slow, yet progress it was, and I gave orders that the ship should

be hauled along as often as there was any opportunity to advance a

little southward.

But although we struggled along in this manner by short distances

at a time, the observation on the 13th revealed to us the fact that

we had actually been drifting a considerable way backward, having

returned to 83° 12' north latitude. It might seem ridiculous, under

such circumstances, to continue pushing forward; but, gloomy as the

prospects were, we tried to keep up our hopes, and were ready to

utilize the very first chance which should present itself.

Late in the evening of July 17th the ice began to slacken so much

that we decided to get up steam. True, it closed up again at once,

but nevertheless we kept up steam. Nor were we disappointed, for at 1

o'clock in the morning the water opened so much that we were able to

steam ahead, and we made 3 miles in a southerly direction. Later in

the morning we were stopped by an immense floe of ice, extending many

miles; and we had to make fast. The whole day following we remained

there. About midnight the ice slackened a good deal, but the fog was

so dense that we could see nothing. At last, on the 19th, we made

what we considered excellent headway. Starting when the fog lifted a

little in the forenoon, we made about 10 miles from 12.30 P.M. till

8 P.M. This stroke of good luck made our spirits revive wonderfully,

and they rose still more the following day when, notwithstanding the

fog and though we had to stop three times, we advanced from 83° 14'

in the morning to 82° 52' at noon and 82° 39' midnight. From the 20th

to the 27th we continued to make good progress. By midnight on the

last-named day we had reached 81° 32' north latitude.

From July 27th till August 2d it was slow and tiresome work. By

August 2d we had not got beyond 81° 26' north latitude. At the same

time we had been carried some distance eastward--namely, to 13° 41'

east longitude.

On Monday, August 3d, we made about 2 miles to the southwest, but had

to remain moored in impossible waters till the 8th, when it slackened

so much around the vessel that we were able to proceed again at 9

A.M. However, we had only made about 6 miles, when we were stopped

by a long, narrow strait. We tried blasting with ordinary gunpowder,

and later with gun-cotton, and time after time we steamed full speed

against the smaller floes that blocked the strait, but without

effect. These floes, as a rule, are not so small and innocent as

they appear. They consist generally of the fragments of old, thick,

and very tough pressure-ridges which have been broken up. When these

pieces get free, they sink deep below the surface of the water, leaving

only a comparatively insignificant part of them discernible, while

the lower parts may be very large. It was precisely this description

of floe that blocked the channel against us. They were so tough that

it was useless to try to break them with the stem of the vessel,

although we repeatedly made at them with full speed. We could plainly

see how the tough old ice bent and rose up at the shock without

breaking. The blasting of such floes was frequently impracticable,

as they were of such a thickness that we were unable to lay the mine

under them. And even if we succeeded in blowing up one of these floes

we gained little or nothing, as the channel was too narrow to allow

the pieces to float astern, and they were too heavy and thick to be

forced beneath the solid edge of ice.

Occasionally it happened that old, thick ice suddenly emerged from

beneath the water in a channel or opening which we were just about

to pass into, thus blocking up the passage before us. On one of these

occasions the Fram received a blow in the ribs that hardly any other

vessel would have withstood. As we were passing through an open channel

I saw from the crow's-nest one end of a large submerged floe appearing

above the edge of the solid ice, and I immediately gave orders to

steer clear so as to pass round it. But at the very moment when we

reckoned to clear it the floe was released, and came to the surface

with such a rush that the spray rose high into the air and struck the

Fram at the fore-rigging on the starboard side with such tremendous

force that the ship lurched violently and fell about 10 points out

of her course, until she ran up against some small floes. When the

monster floe emerged it lifted a huge mass of water and sent it like

a roaring cataract out into the channel.

Something similar happened when we occasionally touched a drifting

hummock that was just on the point of rolling over, owing to the

quicker melting of the ice below the water-line. The slightest push

would be enough to capsize the hummock and turn it over in such a

violent way that the sea around us would become as agitated as during

a storm.

On August 9th we worked the whole day clearing the channel, but only

made slight headway. On the 10th the work was continued, and in the

course of the forenoon we finally succeeded in getting through. During

the rest of the day we also made some headway to the south until the

ice became impassable, and we were compelled to make fast at 10 P.M.,

having made about 2 miles.

On account of the fog we were unable to take any observation until

the 9th, when we found ourselves in 81° 48' north latitude, the last

latitude observation we made in the drift-ice.

On Tuesday, the 11th, we again proceeded southward by dint of arduous

labor in clearing floes and brash, which often blocked our way. At

7.30 P.M. we had to make fast in a narrow strait, until, in the course

of the night, we cleared the obstacles away and were able to proceed

to the southwest. Progress was, however, slow, and on the morning

of August 12th we were stopped by a very awkward floe. We tried to

blast it away, but while we were at work on this the ice tightened up

quickly, and left the vessel imprisoned between two big floes. In the

course of a couple of hours it slackened again in a S.W. direction,

and we steamed off in comparatively fair channels until 12.30 P.M.,

when a floe stopped our farther progress. We had made 9 1/2 miles in

about five hours this forenoon. Some thin ice now appeared, and from

the crow's-nest we could see, when the fog cleared off a little for a

few moments, several large channels running in a southerly direction

both east and west of our position. Besides, we noticed an increase

in the number of birds and small seals, and we also saw an occasional

bearded seal--all evidences that we could not be very far from the

open water.

Between 3 and 4 P.M. we were released from the floes which had held

us enclosed, and at 5.30 P.M. we steamed off in a S.E. direction

through steadily improving ice. The ice now became noticeably thin

and brittle, so that we were able to force the smaller floes. From

5.30 P.M. till midnight we advanced about 16 miles; the engine was

used as compound during the last watch.

After midnight on August 13th we steered S.W., then S. and S.E.,

the ice continuing to grow slacker. At 3 o'clock we sighted a dark

expanse of water to the S.S.E., and at 3.45 we steered through the

last ice-floes out into open water. [92]

WE WERE FREE! Behind us lay three years of work and hardships, with

their burden of sad thought during the long nights, before us life and

reunion with all those who were dear to us. Just a few more days! A

chaos of contending feelings came over each and every one. For some

time it seemed as if we could hardly realize what we saw, as if the

deep blue, lapping water at the bow were an illusion, a dream. We

were still a good way above the eightieth degree of latitude, and it

is only in very favorable summers that ice-free water stretches so

far north. Were we, perhaps, in a large, open pool? Had we still a

great belt of ice to clear?

No, it was real! The free, unbounded sea was around us on every side;

and we felt, with a sense of rapture, how the Fram gently pitched

with the first feeble swells.

We paid the final honors to our vanquished antagonist by firing a

thundering salute as a farewell. One more gaze at the last faint

outlines of hummocks and floes, and the mist concealed them from

our view.

We now shaped our course by the compass S.S.E., as the fog was still

so dense that no observation could be taken. Our plan was at first

to steer towards Red Bay, get our landfall, and thence to follow

the west coast of Spitzbergen southward till we found a suitable

anchoring-place, where we could take in water, shift the coal from the

hold into the bunkers, and, in fact, make the Fram quite ship-shape

for our homeward trip.

At 7 A.M., when the fog lifted slightly, we sighted a sail on to port,

and shaped our course for her, in order to speak to her and try to

get some news of Dr. Nansen and Johansen. In an hour or so we were

quite near her. She was lying to, and did not seem to have sighted us

until we were close on her. The mate then ran down to announce that a

monster ship was bearing down upon them in the fog. Soon the deck was

crowded with people, and just as the captain put his head out the Fram

passed close up on the weather-side of the vessel, and we greeted her

in passing with a thundering broadside from our starboard cannon. We

then turned round astern of her, and fired another salute to leeward,

after which "hostilities" were discontinued. No doubt it was a rather

demonstrative way of making ourselves known to our countrymen, who were

lying there so peacefully, drifting in the morning mist, and probably

thinking more of seals and whales than of the Fram. But we trust that

Captain Botolfsen and his crew will forgive us our overflowing joy

at this our first meeting with human beings after three long years.

The vessel was the galliot Söstrene (The Sisters), of Tromsö. The first

question which was shouted to him as we passed alongside was this:

"Have Nansen and Johansen arrived?" We had hoped to receive a roaring

"Yes," and were ready to greet the answer with a thundering "Hurrah"

and salute; but the answer we got was short and sad "No."

Captain Botolfsen and some of his crew came on board to us, and had

to go through a regular cross-fire of questions of every conceivable

kind. Such an examination they had certainly never been subjected to,

and probably never will be again.

Among the many items of news which we received was one to the effect

that the Swedish aeronaut, Engineer Andrée, had arrived at Danes

Island, intending to proceed thence by balloon to discover the

North Pole.

Botolfsen came with us as a passenger, leaving his vessel in charge

of the mate, and accompanied us as far as Tromsö. We reshaped our

course about noon for Red Bay, intending to steam from there to Danes

Island and see Mr. Andrée. About midnight we sighted land ahead,

and supposed it to be the cape immediately to the west of Red Bay. It

was 1041 days since we last saw land.

We lay to for some time at this point, waiting for the fog to clear

away sufficiently to allow us to find the landmarks. As it did not

clear, we steamed slowly westward, taking frequent soundings, and

soon found ourselves, as we anticipated, right in "Norsksundet"

(Norwegian Sound), and proceeding up, we anchored at 9.30 A.M.,

off "Hollændernæset" (Dutch Cape). The fog was now cleared, and

we soon saw the steamship Virgo, of the Andrée Expedition, and the

balloon-house ashore.

Through the telescope we could see that our arrival had been observed,

and a steam-launch soon came alongside with Mr. Andrée, the other

members of the expedition, and Captain Zachau, of the Virgo.

Neither could these gentlemen give us any news of the fate of our

comrades. Our spirits became still more depressed than before. We

had confidently expected that Nansen and Johansen would reach home

before us. Now it seemed as if we were to be the first to arrive.

We did not, however, entertain any serious fears for their safety,

especially when we learned that the Jackson expedition had spent two

winters in Franz Josef Land. It was highly probable that Dr. Nansen and

Johansen would sooner or later meet with this expedition, and were,

perhaps, only waiting for a chance of getting home. But if they had

not met with Jackson, something had evidently gone amiss with them,

in which case they needed assistance, and that as soon as possible.

Our plans were soon laid. We would hurry home to Tromsö to get reliable

information, and, in case nothing had been learned there either,

we would complete our coal supply--we were not in want of anything

else--and immediately proceed to Franz Josef Land, to make a search

for them, and, as we hoped, have the unspeakable pleasure of bringing

them home to our expectant fatherland in our own faithful Fram.

Our stay at Danes Island was consequently cut as short as possible. We

paid visits to the Virgo, saw the balloon, which was now ready to start

as soon as a favorable wind would permit of it, and received return

visits from our amiable Swedish friends. During the night we finished

taking in water and shifting the coal; the vessel was ready for sea,

and at 3 A.M. on August 15th the Fram steamed off, with sails set,

through Sneerenburg Bay and out to sea.

During the passage across we had good weather and a fair and often

fresh breeze, the vessel making good speed: upward of 9 1/4 knots.

At 9 A.M. on the 19th we saw the first blue ridges of our native

mountains. By noon we sighted Lögö, and at 8 P.M. the north point

of Loppen. Then we steered into Kvænangen Fjord, and anchored off

Skjærvö at 2 o'clock in the morning of August 20th.

As soon as the anchor had fallen, I called the doctor and Scott-Hansen,

who both wanted to go ashore with me. But as they were too slow with

their toilet, I asked Bentzen to put me ashore in the pram, and was

soon at the telegraph station, where I tried to knock life into the

people by thundering with my clinched fist first at one door, then at

another, but for a long time in vain. At last a man put his head out

of a window on the second floor to inquire what kind of night-prowlers

were making such a disturbance. It was the chief of the telegraph

station himself. He describes the nocturnal incident in a letter to

one of the Christiania newspapers in the following pleasant manner:

"It was with anything but amiable feelings and intentions that at

about half-past four I turned out to see what wretch it was who was

making such a lively rattle at my front door. Rather lightly clad,

I put my head out of the window, and roared out, 'Hallo! What's the

matter? Deuce of a noise to make at this time of night!'

"A man dressed in gray, with a heavy beard, stepped forward. There

was something about his appearance that made me think at once that I

had perhaps been somewhat too hasty in giving vent to my displeasure

at being called up, and I felt a little crestfallen when he slyly

remarked, 'Yes, that's true; but all the same I must ask you to open

the door. I come from the Fram.' Immediately it dawned upon me who it

was. It could be none other than Sverdrup. 'Coming directly, captain,'

I answered, and jumping into the most necessary clothes, down I went

to let him in. He was not at all annoyed at the long waiting, or the

unfriendly words with which he had been received, when he set foot

again in his native country after the long and famous expedition,

but was very kind and good-humored when I begged his pardon for the

rudeness with which I had received him. In my inmost heart I made an

even warmer apology than I had stammered out in my first embarrassment.

"When Sverdrup was seated, the first question was naturally as to

the way he had come. They had just arrived from off the coast of

Spitzbergen. On the 13th they had got out into open water, where

they almost immediately met with Captain Botolfsen, from Tromsö,

who was there with his whaling-ship. They had brought him with

them. They had next visited Andrée, who was about to pack up and go

home, and had then proceeded to this place. They had first learned

from Botolfsen, and then from Andrée, who ought to have had some of

the latest tidings from Norway, that nothing was known about Nansen,

whom they hoped to find at home, and the joy they were feeling at the

prospect of reaching home soon was considerably damped by this news.

"'Ah, but I can give you news of Nansen,' said I. 'He arrived at Vardö

on August 13th, and is now at Hammerfest. He's probably starting for

Tromsö to-day in an English yacht.'

"'Has Nansen arrived?'

"The stalwart form bounded up in a state of excitement rarely shown

by this man, and exclaiming, 'I must tell the others at once,' he

vanished out of the door.

"A moment later he returned, accompanied by Scott-Hansen, Blessing,

Mogstad, and Bentzen, all of them perfectly wild with joy at the latest

news, which crowned all, and allowed them to give full vent to their

exultation at being once more in their native land after their long

and wearisome absence, which the uncertain fate of their leader and

his comrade would otherwise have damped. And they did rejoice! 'Is

it true? Has Nansen arrived?' was repeated on all sides. 'What a day

this is, what joy! And what a curious coincidence that Nansen should

arrive on the same day that we cleared the last ice and steered

homeward!' And they congratulated each other, all quivering with

emotion, these sturdy fellows.

"In the early morning two thundering reports were suddenly heard from

the Fram, followed by the ringing cheers of the crew in honor of

their absent comrades. The inhabitants of the place, who were fast

asleep, were quite startled, and soon got out of bed; but when it

finally dawned upon them that it could be none other than the Fram,

they were not slow in turning out to have a look at her.

"As they anchored here, the fragrance of the new-mown hay was

wafted to them from the shore, and to them it seemed marvellous. The

green meadows with their humble flowers, and the few trees bent and

almost withered by the merciless wind and weather, looked to them

so delightful that our poor island was a veritable Eden in their

eyes. 'Yes, to-day they would have a good roll on the grass.'

"For the rest, Mother Nature was as smiling and festally arrayed as

could be expected so late in the year in these northern latitudes. The

fjord was calm, as though it feared by the faintest ripple to interrupt

the tranquillity which enveloped the tried and weather-beaten warrior

now resting upon its smooth surface.

"They were all quite enthusiastic about the vessel. I do not believe

there is a man on board who does not love the Fram. Sverdrup declared

that a 'stronger and finer ship had never been built, and was not to

be found in the wide world!'"

On my way to the fjord I met five of our comrades. Nordahl hurried at

once on board with the glad tidings, while the rest of us settled down

with the telegraph manager around a smoking cup of coffee, which tasted

delicious. A better welcome we could not have had. But it did not end

with the coffee or with the telegraph manager. Soon the popping of

champagne corks sounded successively in the houses of the store-keeper

and local magistrate, while the telegraph manager sent message upon

message announcing our arrival to Dr. Nansen, his Majesty the King,

the Norwegian Government, and to relations and friends.

At 10 A.M. we weighed anchor and set off to meet Nansen and Johansen

at Tromsö, passed to the north of Skjærvö, and steamed south. Off

Ulfstinden we met the steamer King Halfdan, with 600 passengers on

board, coming from Tromsö to meet us. We accepted the offer to take us

in tow, and at 8.30 P.M. the Fram glided into the harbor of Tromsö,

accompanied by hundreds of flag-covered boats, and was received with

cheers and hearty welcome.

Next day, August 25th, at 4 P.M., Sir George Baden-Powell's steam-yacht

Otaria, with Dr. Nansen and Johansen on board, arrived. After a

separation of seventeen months, our number was again complete, and

the Norwegian Polar Expedition was once more united.

CONCLUSION

By Dr. Nansen

What, then, are the results of the Norwegian Polar Expedition? This

is a question which the reader might fairly expect to find answered

here; but the scientific observations brought back are so varied

and voluminous that it will be some time yet before they can be

dealt with by specialists and before any general estimate of their

significance can be formed. It will, therefore, be necessary to

publish these results in separate scientific publications; and if

I now attempted to give an idea of them, it would necessarily be

imperfect, and might easily prove misleading. I shall, therefore,

confine myself to pointing out a few of their more important features.

In the first place, we have demonstrated that the sea in the immediate

neighborhood of the Pole, and in which, in my opinion, the Pole

itself in all probability lies, is a deep basin, not a shallow one,

containing many expanses of land and islands, as people were formerly

inclined to assume. It is certainly a continuation of the deep channel

which extends from the Atlantic Ocean northward between Spitzbergen

and Greenland. The extent of this deep sea is a question which it is

not at present easy to answer; but we at least know that it extends

a long way north of Franz Josef Land, and eastward right to the New

Siberian Islands. I believe that it extends still farther east, as,

I think, may be inferred from the fact that the more the Jeannette

expedition drifted north, the greater depth of sea did they find. For

various reasons, I am led to believe that in a northerly direction

also this deep sea is of considerable extent. In the first place,

nothing was observed, either during the drift of the Fram or during our

sledge expedition to the north, that would point to the proximity of

any considerable expanse of land; the ice seemed to drift unimpeded,

particularly in a northerly direction. The way in which the drift set

straight to the north as soon as there was a southerly wind was most

striking. It was with the greatest difficulty that the wind could head

the drift back towards the southeast. Had there been any considerable

expanse of land within reasonable distance to the north of us, it would

have blocked the free movement of the ice in that direction. Besides,

the large quantity of drift-ice, which drifts southward with great

rapidity along the east coast of Greenland all the way down to Cape

Farewell and beyond it, seems to point in the same direction. Such

extensive ice-fields must have a still larger breadth of sea to come

from than that through which we drifted. Had the Fram continued

her drift instead of breaking loose to the north of Spitzbergen,

she would certainly have come down along the coast of Greenland;

but probably she would not have got close in to that coast, but would

have had a certain quantity of ice between her and it; and that ice

must come from a sea lying north of our route. On the other hand,

it is quite probable that land may exist to a considerable extent on

the other side of the Pole between the Pole and the North American

archipelago. It appears to me only reasonable to assume that this

multitude of islands must extend farther towards the north.

As a result of our expedition, I think we can now form a fairly clear

idea of the way in which the drift-ice is continually moving from

one side of the polar basin north of Bering Strait and the coast of

Siberia, and across the regions around the Pole, and out towards

the Atlantic Ocean. Where geographers at one time were disposed

to locate a solid, immovable, and massive ice-mantle, covering the

northern extremity of our globe, we now find a continually breaking

and shifting expanse of drift-ice. The evidence which even before our

expedition had induced me to believe most strongly in this theory is

supplied by the Siberian drift-wood that is continually being carried

to Greenland, as well as the mud found on the ice, as it could scarcely

be of other than Siberian origin. We found several indications of this

kind during our expedition, even when we were as far north as 86°,

furnishing valuable indications as to the movement of the ice.

The force which sets this ice in motion is certainly for the most

part supplied by the winds; and as in the sea north of Siberia the

prevailing winds are southeasterly or easterly, whereas north of

Spitzbergen they are northeasterly, they must carry the ice in the

direction in which we found the drift. From the numerous observations

I made I established the existence of a slow current in the water

under the ice, travelling in the same direction. But it will be some

time before the results of these investigations can be calculated

and checked.

The hydrographic observations made during the expedition furnished

some surprising data. Thus, for instance, it was customary to look

upon the polar basin as being filled with cold water, the temperature

of which stood somewhere about -1.5° C. Consequently our observations

showing that under the cold surface there was warmer water, sometimes

at a temperature as high as +1° C., were surprising. Again, this

water was more briny than the water of the polar basin has been

assumed to be. This warmer and more strongly saline water must

clearly originate from the warmer current of the Atlantic Ocean

(the Gulf Stream), flowing in a north and northeasterly direction

off Novaya Zemlya and along the west coast of Spitzbergen, and then

diving under the colder, but lighter and less briny, water of the

Polar Sea, and filling up the depths of the polar basin. As I have

stated in the course of my narrative, this more briny water was,

as a rule, warmest at a depth of from 200 to 250 fathoms, beyond

which it would decrease in temperature, though not uniformly, as the

depth increased. Near the bottom the temperature rose again, though

only slightly. These hydrographic observations appear to modify to

a not inconsiderable extent the theories hitherto entertained as

to the direction of the currents in the northern seas; but it is a

difficult matter to deal with, as there is a great mass of material,

and its further treatment will demand both time and patience. It must

therefore be left to subsequent scientific publications.

Still less do I contemplate attempting to enter here into a discussion

on the numerous magnetic, astronomical, and meteorological observations

taken. At the end of this work I merely give a table showing the mean

temperatures for each month during the drift of the Fram and during

our sledging expedition.

On the whole, it may probably be said that, although the expedition

has left many problems for the future to solve in connection with

the polar area, it has, nevertheless, gone far to lift the veil of

mystery which has hitherto shrouded those regions, and we have been

put in a position to form a tolerably clear and reasonable idea of

a portion of our globe that formerly lay in darkness, which only the

imagination could penetrate. And should we in the near future get a

bird's-eye view of the regions around the Pole as seen from a balloon,

all the most material features will be familiar to us.

But there still remains a great deal to be investigated, and this

can only be done by years of observation, to which end a new drift,

like that of the Fram, would be invaluable. Guided by our experience,

explorers will be in a position to equip themselves still better; but

a more convenient method for the scientific investigation of unknown

regions cannot easily be imagined. On board a vessel of this kind

explorers may settle themselves quite as comfortably as in a fixed

scientific station. They can carry their laboratories with them,

and the most delicate experiments of all kinds can be carried out. I

hope that such an expedition may be undertaken ere long, and if it

goes through Bering Strait and thence northward, or perhaps slightly

to the northeast, I shall be very much surprised if observations are

not taken which will prove of far greater scope and importance than

those made by us. But it will require patience: the drift will be

more protracted than ours, and the explorers must be well equipped.

There is also another lesson which I think our expedition

has taught--namely, that a good deal can be achieved with small

resources. Even if explorers have to live in Eskimo fashion and content

themselves with the barest necessaries, they may, provided they are

suitably equipped, make good headway and cover considerable distances

in regions which have hitherto been regarded as almost inaccessible.

Mean Temperatures (Fahr.) for every Month

during the Drift of the "Fram"

Months 1893 1894 1895 1896

° ° ° °

January -- -32.3 -28.1 -35.3

February -- -32.1 -34.2 -30.5

March -- -35.1 -30.6 - 1.7

April -- - 6.1 -19.7 - 0.6

May -- +13.8 +10.2 +12.6

June -- +29.3 +28.0 +28.9

July -- +32.4 +32.5 +31.8

August -- +30.2 +27.3 +34.1

September +29.1 +17.1 +14.9 --

October - 1.1 - 8.5 - 6.2 --

November -11.6 -23.4 -23.6 --

December -20.6 -30.8 -27.2 --

Continuous Periods of Temperature under -40°

Years Dates

January February March November December

1894 11 to 12 3 to 7 5 to 15 14 to 15 8 to 10

14 to 15 11 to 19 17 to 19 -- 17 to 18

27 to 29 23 to 24 25 to 26 -- 30 to 1 [93]

1895 14 to 18 9 to 10 19 to 23 20 to 23 7 to 8

23 to 26 13 to 16 26 to 28 -- --

-- 18 to 22 -- -- --

1896 29 [94] to 18 4 to 9 4 to 5 -- --

-- 11 to 20 -- -- --

The Mean Temperature of the Twenty-four Hours for these

Periods

Years January February March November December

° ° ° ° °

1894 -36.8 -48.5 -47.9 -- -40.7

-39.1 -43.4 -45.8 -42.3 -37.3

-40.5 -38.6 -40.2 -- -42.7

1895 -41.1 -41.4 -39.8 -- --

-46.3 -43.1 -37.7 -41.1 -39.5

-- -42.2 -- -- --

1896 -45.8 -41.1 -35.7 -- --

-- -43.2 -- -- --

NOTES

[1] He did not return, after all.

[2] We had used for this purpose our pure grape-spirit.

[3] The word svalkelem, which has throughout been translated "gangway,"

means rather a sort of port-hole. As the svalkelem, however, was the

means of exit from and entrance to the ship, "gangway" seemed the

most convenient expression for it.

[4] The crossbars on the sledge that connect the perpendicular supports

of the runners with each other.

[5] The sledge runners were connected in front by a bow, consisting

of three or four pieces of rattan cane lashed together; it is to this

bow the hauling-lines are fastened.

[6] This odometer had been made on board, shortly before starting, out

of the works of an old anemometer. The odometer was fastened behind the

last sledge, and indicated fairly correctly the distance covered by us.

[7] They were 12 feet long, 1 foot 9 1/2 inches broad, and rode about

5 inches above the snow.

[8] Compare my description of "finsko," in The First Crossing of

Greenland, pp. 47 and 48.

[9] I had also had prepared a large quantity of pemmican, consisting of

equal parts of meat-powder and vegetable fat (from the cocoanut). This

pemmican, however, proved to be rather an unfortunate invention;

even the dogs would not eat it after they had tasted it once or

twice. Perhaps this is accounted for by the fact that vegetable fat

is heavily digested, and contains acids which irritate the mucous

membranes of the stomach and throat.

[10] It was not advisable, for many reasons, to cross the lanes in

the kayaks, now that the temperature was so low. Even if the water

in them had not nearly always been covered with a more or less thick

layer of ice, the kayaks would have become much heavier from the

immediate freezing of the water which would have entered, as they

proved to be not absolutely impervious; and this ice we had then no

means of dislodging.

[11] Used by the Lapps to their dog.--Trans.

[12] Whereas eating snow may increase the above-mentioned feeling of

thirst, and have disagreeable consequences in other ways, sucking a

piece of ice, which will soon quench it, may safely be resorted to,

particularly if it be held in the hand a little while before putting it

in the mouth. Many travellers have, no doubt, had the same experience.

[13] We always kept a supply of our various provisions in small bags

inside the kayaks, so that we could get out whatever we wanted for

our daily consumption without undoing the big sacks, which were sewed

up or securely fastened in other ways.

[14] When I left the ship I had purposed to travel northward for 50

days, for which time we had taken provender for the dogs.

[15] This was the latitude I got by a rough estimation, but on further

calculation it proved to be 86° 13.6' N.; the longitude was about

95° E.

[16] I felt convinced we could not have reached such a westerly

longitude, but assumed this for the sake of certainty, as I would

rather come down on the east side of Franz Josef Land than on the

west side. Should we reach the latitude of Petermann's Land or Prince

Rudolf Land without seeing them, I should in the former case be

certain that we had them on our west, and could then look for them

in that direction, whereas, in the event of our not finding land

and being uncertain whether we were too far east or too far west,

we should not then know in what direction we ought to look for it.

[17] We saw no real ice-mountains at any period of our journey before

we got under land; everything was sea-ice. The same was the case

during the drift of the Fram.

[18] In point of fact it was nearly three months (till July 24)

before this marvel happened.

[19] As on the previous day, the ice on the north side of the lane

was moving westward, in comparison with that on the south side. The

same thing was the case, or could be seen to have been so, with the

lanes we met with later in the day. We naturally conceived this to

mean that there was a strong westerly drift in the ice northward,

while that southward was retained by land.

[20] The lanes form most frequently in windy weather, as the ice is

then set in motion.

[21] In point of fact, we were then about 6° farther east than

we thought. I had on April 14th, it will be remembered (compare my

notes for that day), surmised that the longitude I then set down (86°

E.) was more westerly than that we were actually in.

[22] For melting water in the cooker it is better to use ice than

snow, particularly if the latter be not old and granular. Newly fallen

snow gives little water, and requires considerably more heat to warm

it. That part of salt-water ice which is above the surface of the sea,

and, in particular, prominent pieces which have been exposed to the

rays of the sun during a summer and are thus freed from the greater

part of their salt, furnish excellent drinking-water. Some expeditions

have harbored the superstition that drinking-water from ice in which

there was the least salt was injurious. This is a mistake which cost,

for instance, the members of the Jeannette expedition much unnecessary

trouble, as they thought it imperative to distil the water before

they could drink it without incurring the risk of scurvy.

[23] As will be understood by our later discoveries, my surmises were

not quite correct. We really were at that time north or northeast

of Wilczek's Land, which seems to be only a little island. Meanwhile

there must have been extensive open water the previous autumn where

this ice was formed. But when it is shown later how much open water

we saw on the northwest coast of Franz Josef Land even in winter,

this can easily be imagined.

[24] Whereas Finn shoes are made of reindeer-skin with the

hair on, "komager" are made of under-tanned hide without hair,

generally from the ox or bearded seal (Phoca barbata), with tops

of reindeer-skin. They are strong and water-proof. (See description

of equipment.)

[25] It was undoubtedly from seals, which often utter a sound like

a protracted "ho!"

[26] It was from about 82° 52' N. south to 82° 19' N. that we travelled

over young ice of this description; that is to say, there must have

been open water over a distance of fully 32 English geographical miles

(33' of latitude). We also found ice of this kind farther south for

a long distance, and the open sea must have been considerably greater.

[27] It was the first diary I used on the sledge journey.

[28] Until this day we had eaten what we required without weighing out

rations. It proved that, after all, we did not eat more than what I

had originally allowed per day--i.e., 1 kilo. of dried food. We now

reduced these day's rations considerably.

[29] It was probably pressure of the floes against each other which

caused this movement. We noticed the same motion several times later.

[30] We found water on the ice here suitable for cooking for the

first time. It was, however, somewhat salt, so that the "fiskegratin"

was too well seasoned.

[31] As it proved later, we were, in reality, about 6° farther east

than we thought.

[32] I called my watch thus after Johannsen, the watchmaker in London

who supplied it.

[33] In reality we were somewhat near the point I here assume (we

were in 67° E., approximately). The reason why we did not see the

land here mentioned was because it does not exist, as was proved later.

[34] A proper hauling harness is an important item, and in the long run

is much less trying than the ordinary hauling strap or rope crosswise

over the chest and one shoulder. The form of harness I use consists of

two straps, which are passed over both shoulders, like the straps of a

knap-sack, and are fastened crosswise over the back to a leather belt,

where the hauling-rope from the sledge is also attached. It is thus in

one's power during the work of hauling to distribute the strain equally

between both shoulders and the belt (i.e., the thighs and abdomen). The

hauling "centre of gravity" is in this manner lower in the body, just

above the legs, which do the work, and the hauling-rope does not,

as is usually the case, press only on the upper part of the body.

[35] Certain straps which are fixed on the kayak, just in front of

the occupant, and through which the paddle is passed when shooting,

etc. The blade thus lying laterally on the water very much increases

the steadiness of the occupants.

[36] Compare, however, what I say on this subject later--i.e.,

July 24th.

[37] This was taken in case it might be wanted for soldering the

cooking apparatus or the German-silver plates under the sledge-runners.

[38] We eventually decided to retain this, however.

[39] The vessel we expected to catch in Spitzbergen.

[40] This supposition is extremely doubtful.

[41] It proved later that this must be Crown Prince Rudolf Land.

[42] In reality we were probably farther from it than before.

[43] We saw more and more of these remarkable birds the farther

we went.

[44] As a rule, we crossed the lanes in this manner; we placed the

sledges, with the kayaks on, side by side, lashed them together,

stiffened them by running the snow-shoes across under the straps,

which also steadied them, and then launched them as they were, with

the sledges lashed underneath. When across, we had only to haul them

up on the other side.

[45] The first island I called "Eva's Island," the second "Liv's

Island," and the little one we were then on "Adelaide's Island." The

fourth island south of us had, perhaps, already been seen by Payer,

and named by him "Freeden Island." The whole group of islands I named

"Hvidtenland" (White Land).

[46] Icebergs of considerable size have been described as having been

seen off Franz Josef Land, but I can only say with reference to this

that during the whole of our voyage through this archipelago we saw

nothing of the kind. The one mentioned here was the biggest of all

those we came across, and they were, compared with the Greenland

icebergs, quite insignificant masses of glacier-ice.

[47] I have called it granite in my diary, but it was in reality a

very coarse-grained basalt. The specimens I took have unfortunately

been lost.

[48] "Houen's Island."

[49] "Torup's Island."

[50] This color is owing to a beautiful minute red alga, which

grows on the snow (generally Spaerella nivalis). There were also

some yellowish-green patches in this snow, which must certainly be

attributed to another species of alga.

[51] It proved later to be Crown Prince Rudolf's Land.

[52] Off Brögger's Foreland.

[53] Clements Markham's Foreland.

[54] Helland's Foreland.

[55] On Helland's Foreland.

[56] I took specimens of the different rock formations, lichens, etc.,

that we came across; but in the course of the winter the collection

was stolen by the foxes, and I thus brought little home from the

tracts north of our winter hut.

[57] As this promontory is probably the land Jackson saw farthest north

in the spring of 1895, it has no name upon my map. It is otherwise

with the islands outside, which he did not notice. They are only

indicated approximately (as Geelmuyden Island and Alexander's Island),

as I am not certain of either their number or their exact situation.

[58] These three islands, whose bearings we were subsequently enabled

to take, and which we could see from our winter hut, are probably

the land which Jackson saw and took to be "King Oscar Land." In

consequence of his having seen them from only one point (his Cape

Fisher), due south, in 81°, he has placed them 40' too far north,

in 82°), having overestimated their distance. (See his map in the

Geographical Journal, Vol. VII., No. 6, December, 1896, London.)

[59] Called Steinen on the map.

[60] I now thought I could safely conclude that we were on the west

coast of Franz Josef Land, and were at this moment a little north of

Leigh Smith's most northwesterly point, Cape Lofley, which should lie

a little south of 81° north latitude, while our observation that day

made us about 81° 19' north latitude.

[61] Ice which is frozen fast to the bottom, and is therefore often

left lying like an icy base along the shore even after the sea is

free from ice. On account of the warm water which comes from the land,

an open channel is often formed between this ice-base and the shore.

[62] It was a registering thermometer, which was also used as a

sling-thermometer.

[63] It often blew very fresh there under the mountain. Another time,

one of my snow-shoes, which was stuck into the snowdrift beside the

hut, was broken short off by the wind. It was a strong piece of maple.

[64] Christmas-eve and New-year's-eve were the only occasions on

which we allowed ourselves to take any of the provisions which we

were keeping for our journey southward.

[65] These rumblings in the glacier are due to rifts which are formed

in the mass of ice when the cold causes it to contract. New rifts

seemed to be formed only when the temperature sank lower than it had

previously been in the course of that winter; at least, it was only

then that we heard the rumblings.

[66] It proved afterwards that the distance was about 56 miles.

[67] We had now, as the spring advanced, a good opportunity of seeing

how the little auk in great flocks and the black guillemots in smaller

numbers, invariably set forth from land at certain times of the day

towards the open sea, and then at other times returned in unbroken

lines up the ice-bound fjords to their nest-rocks again.

[68] This was a slip of the pen; it ought to be 102° east longitude.

[69] Jackson's "Cape M'Clintock."

[70] Jackson, who saw it in the spring of 1895, called it Mary

Elizabeth Island.

[71] Jackson's "Cape Fisher."

[72] This was on the south side of Jackson's "Cape Richthofen," the

most northerly point which Jackson had reached earlier the same spring.

[73] It proved afterwards to be "Hooker Island."

[74] It proved to be "Northbrook Island."

[75] The sound between Northbrook Island and Bruce Island on the one

side and Peter Head, on Alexandra Land, on the other side.

[76] Cape Barents.

[77] The ice-foot is the part of a floe which often projects into

the water under the surface. It is formed through the thawing of the

upper part of the ice in the summer-time by the warmer surface layer

of the sea.

[78] He had reached Cape Richthofen, about 35 miles to the south of us.

[79] We had not any nautical almanac for 1896, and had hitherto used

the almanac for the previous year.

[80] New Lands within the Arctic Circle. By J. Payer, Vol. II., p. 129.

[81] Where they are generally called diabases.

[82] Leigh Smith had already brought back from Spitzbergen a fossil

cone, which Carruthers classified as a Pinus; but he regarded it as

belonging to the upper part of the cretaceous system.

[83] I did not dream that Sverdrup a year after would be in command

of this steamer.

[84] Jackson had brought with him several Russian horses, which he

had used along with dogs on his sledge expeditions. Only one of these

horses was alive at the time of our arrival.

[85] Vide pp. 91-98, Vol. II.

[86] Little "Barnet," who weighed only 38 pounds, and was one of

the smallest of the dogs, was a regular fighter, and, as a rule,

the aggressor.

[87] On April 18th, when the doctor and I were out looking for a

suitable piece of ice for determining the specific gravity of the ice,

we observed a remarkable drop of water hanging under a projecting

corner of a large block of ice, reared up high by pressure. There

it hung, in the shade, quivering in the fresh breeze, although the

thermometer registered about -23° of frost. "That must be very salt,"

I said, and tasted it--"Phew!" It was salt in very truth--rank salt,

like the strongest brine.

[88] These are well-known localities in Christiania, Engebret's being

a restaurant.

[89] A small keelless boat.

[90] A round wicker snow-shoe like a basket-lid.

[91] This claret was made for the occasion, and consisted of the

juice of dried red whortleberries and bilberries, with the addition

of a little spirits. I was highly complimented on this beverage,

and served it again on other occasions.

[92] Twenty-eight days' work of forcing this more or less closely

packed ice had brought us a distance of 180 miles.

[93] January

[94] December