head, it drops down on the ice again and dies. The other seals near by
are not disturbed. They seem to think that their companion has gone
quietly to sleep again, and that there can be no danger. Often several
seals are shot in this way before the rest become alarmed.
Sometimes the shooter misses his mark and wounds the seal instead of
killing him instantly. The wounded seal in his pain splashes around
on the ice and in the water, and the others take fright and plunge
into the sea. A great deal, therefore, depends upon the skill of the
shooters, most of whom are accurate marksmen.
When several seals have been shot, the men in the boat spring to the
floes where they are lying and skin them. The skinning is done rapidly
with long, sharp knives, and nothing is saved except the skin and the
layer of blubber lying next it. The entire body of the seal is left on
the ice. The Eskimos would think this practice very wasteful, for they
make use of every part of the seal, including the bones.
As sealers sometimes return from a trip to Denmark strait with five
thousand skins aboard, it is not surprising that seals are becoming
scarce in that locality.
Nansen was glad when the haul of seals was over and the _Jason_ steamed
away again toward Greenland. Several times the coast had been sighted,
but the ship had never drawn near enough to make it possible to land.
Balto was not very well pleased with his first glimpse of Greenland.
In his account of his voyage, he said that the coast had no beauty nor
charm to the eye, but was dismal and hideous to look upon; that the
mountain peaks were very high and rose like church steeples into the
clouds, which hid the summits.
But Nansen thought the coast beautiful. The snow-covered peaks
glittered in the sunlight and extended as far as the eye could reach,
while far to the west stretched the vast white plain of inland ice.
On July 17, 1888, as the _Jason_ was not more than ten or twelve miles
from the coast of Greenland, Nansen made up his mind to leave the ship.
All the baggage was brought on deck, farewells were said, and at seven
o’clock in the evening Nansen and his five companions climbed down the
ship’s ladder and embarked in two boats. The _Jason’s_ guns saluted;
the _Jason’s_ crew cheered. But deep down in their hearts the sailors
believed that Nansen and his men were going to certain death. No
thought of fear, however, disturbed the brave band. With the exception
of Balto and Ravna, they were all delighted to enter upon the perilous
journey.
At first everything went well. There were channels of water between
the floes, wide enough for the boats to pass through. But soon the ice
began to pack, and the boats had to be pulled up upon the floes and
dragged across to open water. It was hard to keep the light craft from
being crushed between the ice masses. Then the current became so strong
that the men were obliged to draw the boats up on a floe, in order to
escape from it.
The ice which had collected around them threw the smaller floes upon
the larger ones, making the ice uneven and difficult to traverse.
After working all night, the men crawled into their sleeping bags, and
were soon asleep.
For several days little progress was made toward land. Then a heavy
swell arose and the breakers dashing over the floe where the tent had
been pitched threatened to wash it away.
[Illustration: NANSEN’S CAMP ON THE DRIFT ICE.]
Suddenly the floe split through the middle, and the travelers were
obliged to remove to a larger one and camp again. The tent stood now on
a piece of drifting ice, about ten miles from land, with every prospect
of being carried out to sea, where small boats could not live in the
heavy waves. The outlook was certainly gloomy.
One morning Nansen missed Balto and Ravna. In searching for them he
lifted the canvas covering of one of the boats, and saw the two Lapps
lying in the bottom of the boat, side by side. Balto was reading to
Ravna from his Lappish New Testament, for both had made up their minds
that they must drown, and were preparing for death.
That day the ice tilted and rolled like a raft on the angry waves, so
that it was almost impossible to cook the soup for their dinner. The
poor frightened Lapps did not speak a word, but the rest of the men
knew no fear, and laughed and joked as usual.
When night came, all the men, except Balto and Sverdrup, went to bed in
the tent; Balto preferred to sleep in a boat, and Sverdrup was to keep
watch.
Slowly and calmly, brave Otto Sverdrup paced up and down the ice.
The floe rocked like a ship at sea, and the heavy waves dashed over
it, threatening to wash away the entire camp. Several times Sverdrup
was obliged to hold the boat in which Balto was sleeping, to keep it
from being swept off the ice. Once it seemed that the tent must be
washed off also, and Sverdrup stepped up to it and unfastened one of
the hooks. He meant to call the men, so that they might get into the
boats, and, if possible, escape with their lives. But Sverdrup paused
a moment. The sea seemed to grow quieter, and a current arose which
quieted the breakers and changed the course of the drifting ice, which,
instead of sailing out to sea, now floated in the opposite direction.
When Nansen awoke in the morning, he was surprised to find the open sea
far off, and the ice drifting calmly toward the land. All the party
rejoiced that they had remained on the ice, which at one time seemed so
dangerous. Their safety was due to the fearlessness and calm judgment
of Sverdrup.
The work of launching the boats and dragging them over the ice
continued for a week longer. One morning Nansen was resting quietly in
his tent, when Ravna, who was on watch without, pulled aside the canvas
and peered in. He appeared so excited that Nansen asked him if he could
see land. “Yes, yes,” replied Ravna, “land too near!”――meaning, “land
very near.” Nansen sprang from his sleeping bag and looked out. Land
was very near, and there was open water in front of them. The boats
were quickly launched. After some hours of hard pulling the party found
a harbor and landed.
The voyagers rejoiced to be on land once more. They walked over the
stones and rocks, and picked moss and a stalk or two of grass. They
had a good dinner to celebrate the landing: biscuit, cheese, and jam
to eat, and hot chocolate to drink. When dinner was over, they started
north again in boats along the coast, for Nansen wished to begin his
journey across Greenland farther to the north than the place where he
had landed.
The travelers picked their way on along the coast until a great glacier
came in sight, which Nansen knew to be the famous Puisortok. Puisortok
means the place where something shoots up, and the Eskimos regard the
spot with fear. When they pass this dreadful place they will not speak,
laugh, eat, nor smoke. They will not look toward the glacier, or even
mention the name Puisortok. They believe that if they do any of these
things the glacier will become angry and cause their death.
Balto was one day gazing through the telescope near this place, when
he saw two small black spots in the distance which seemed to be moving
rapidly toward him. As they grew more distinct, he shouted to Nansen
that two men were coming. When they came nearer, the strangers proved
to be two young East Greenland Eskimos traveling through the ice floes
in their kayaks.
These Eskimos were short in stature and very good-looking. Their
faces were broad and round, and their features regular. Their skin
was chestnut-brown, and their hair long, black, and shiny. One wore a
jacket and breeches of sealskin, with strings of beads in his hair,
while the other wore sealskin trousers and a jacket of blue cotton.
On their heads they wore large flat-brimmed hats, made of blue cotton
stretched across a wooden ring. On the crown was a large red cross.
[Illustration: A GROUP OF GREENLAND ESKIMOS.
After photograph by Nansen.]
The Eskimos showed great astonishment at the boats and other strange
things that they saw, and when Nansen gave them some food, they seemed
much pleased. By gestures they warned Nansen about the dangerous
Puisortok, and then set off northward again in their kayaks.
Nansen and his men passed Puisortok without any trouble, though they
talked and laughed as usual. They looked at the dreaded glacier, and
admired the beautiful color of the ice, which shaded from blue to a
milky white. Yet old Puisortok showed no signs of anger. Soon the
wayfarers came upon an Eskimo camp. High up among the rocks stood the
skin tents, while the Eskimos themselves were gathered outside, running
about in a highly excited manner, chattering and waving their arms. As
the boats came nearer, the people on the land yelled and shrieked. Some
ran to the shore, and some to high points on rocks, where they could
get a better view of the strangers.
They welcomed the newcomers with smiles of delight, and helped them
in every possible way. Nansen and his friends were invited into the
Eskimo tents. They remained inside as long as possible, but the filth
soon drove them out. When Nansen and his men went to bed in their own
tent, the Eskimos stood around in crowds, gaping curiously to see them
undress and crawl into their sleeping bags.
The Eskimos gave the white men pieces of sealskin, and in return their
guests presented them with the empty tin cans in which their meat had
been packed. These gifts pleased the natives very much. They contrived
to make Nansen understand that two tribes, one traveling north and the
other south, had met at this place, and that now they were preparing to
separate and continue their journey. Nansen determined to accompany the
tribe which was going north, because he thought that their knowledge of
the coast might be of assistance to him.
The accomplished Eskimos were not long in preparing for the journey.
In a twinkling the tents were down and everything was packed. Before
they parted, the members of the different tribes bade one another
good-by, rubbing their noses together, instead of kissing. A few
remained behind the others for a specially tender farewell. They drew
up in a line like soldiers, and brought out snuff horns. One man would
take snuff from a horn, and pass it on to the next. They spent several
hours in this ceremony, each man taking snuff many times. Nansen
thought they would sneeze themselves to death.
Only the Eskimos who had come from the south had their horns full of
snuff. The tribe from the north was bound for the Danish colonies on
the southern coast, to procure this important article. The journey
takes about two years, one year to reach the Danish colonies, and one
year to return. When the colonies are reached, the Eskimos spend an
hour or two in trading. After they obtain the snuff, they start on
their homeward journey. Their form of snuff is simply tobacco, ground
to a powder between stones. In exchange for the tobacco, the Eskimos
give large, fine bearskins, foxskins, and sealskins. They pay high
prices for articles which cost the white men very little money.
When the farewell was over, the Eskimos parted, and Nansen tried to
keep the north-bound travelers in sight, but he soon found that he must
depend upon himself and break his own way through the ice. The journey
grew harder and harder, and in camp the travelers were often tormented
by swarms of mosquitoes. Clouds of the small insects swarmed around
them and annoyed the men almost beyond endurance. Any amount of work in
the ice was to be preferred to an attack by mosquitoes.
The party traveled through the water among huge icebergs; they plodded
wearily over ice hummocks; finally, they drew up their boats for the
last time at a place where Nansen thought they could climb the steep
ascent from the coast, and reach the inland ice.
The boats were left in a cleft in the rocks, carefully blocked with
stones to keep them steady. Then began the climb up the mountains to
the plateau. The ascent was steep, and the men had hard work to drag up
the sledges. Often one of the climbers would sink into a deep crevasse
and have to be rescued by his companions.
[Illustration: A VIEW IN THE INTERIOR OF GREENLAND.]
The crevasses grew deeper and more dangerous as the party advanced, and
soon a rain storm set in, which delayed the travelers three days. While
they were lying in the tents, the men followed the wise example of the
bears and did no work. They ate very little and only once a day, but
slept a great deal.
When they took up the journey again, they found the ice hard. But a
heavy snowstorm began, and it was difficult to drag the sledges through
the deep drifts. At last, when they reached a point six thousand feet
above the level of the sea, the wind was blowing fiercely and the
temperature stood at zero.
Nansen decided to rig a sail for the sledges, hoping by this
contrivance to make the wind serve as an aid. Old Ravna was disgusted
with the plan, and Balto, too, thought it absurd to try to sail on the
snow. But Nansen made the sails, and the two Lapps were soon forced to
admit that their use made the load lighter to draw.
[Illustration: SLEDGING ACROSS GREENLAND.]
The snow was still very deep, and when, on August 30, it was in
condition for the men to use the ski, they joyfully strapped them on.
In a short time they had attained the plateau, and then for days they
toiled over a flat, wide expanse of snow. The highest elevation which
Nansen reached during this journey was nine thousand two hundred and
seventy-two feet, and the lowest temperature he experienced was 49°
below zero.
The sledges were heavy, and the Lapps grumbled all the time, Ravna
especially being very low-spirited. One day he said to Nansen: “I am an
old Lapp, and a silly old fool, too. I don’t believe we shall ever get
to the coast.”
Nansen answered: “That is quite true, Ravna. You are a silly old fool.”
Ravna’s spirits grew lighter when the party reached the highest part
of the plateau and began to descend, for then they went along swiftly
on their ski, or coasted down the slopes. Sometimes they encountered
crevasses and had to pick their way carefully, and once Nansen fell
into a deep chasm and had to scramble desperately to get out. When
the bare rocks came in view, Ravna was so delighted that he insisted
upon carrying a double load. He said that the mountain grasses and the
reindeer moss reminded him of his own mountains at home.
At last the travelers reached the sea and encamped in a sheltered
valley. Nansen and Sverdrup built a rude boat and embarked for
Godthaab, the nearest town on the coast, whence they sent back natives
to bring their comrades to town.
The Greenlanders took the two Lapps for women, because of their long
tunics of reindeer skin. But Ravna and Balto did not resent this
mistake; they were perfectly happy now and at ease. They told the
natives about the wonderful things that they had seen during the
journey over the inland ice.
Nansen was sadly disappointed when he heard that he could not sail for
home until the spring, for the ship on which he had hoped to sail had
already gone. He sent two swift kayak travelers with letters, to try to
overtake the ship at another town where she was to stop.
[Illustration: SKATING OFF THE COAST OF GREENLAND.]
Nansen and his companions spent the winter comfortably at Godthaab.
They found plenty to keep them busy. Nansen learned to use the kayak
skillfully; he hunted and fished, and made two trips upon the inland
ice.
In the spring, when the ship arrived which was to take them home, all
the party felt sorry to part with the good friends they had made in
Greenland. The farewells over, Nansen was soon homeward bound. On May
30, 1888, the ship entered Christiania fiord. The harbor was filled
with steamers and sailing vessels, all crowded with people, assembled
to greet the man who had succeeded in crossing the inland ice of
Greenland. Flags were waved, bells rung, and cheers were given with a
will, to show the honor which Norway would pay her son, Fridtjof Nansen.
When Nansen had disembarked and entered a carriage to be driven home,
the people were so excited that they dashed forward, unharnessed the
horses from the carriage, and seizing the pole, drew him in triumph
through the city.
The scientific and geographical results of this journey of Nansen’s
were very great. Much valuable knowledge was gained concerning the
character of the interior of Greenland.
XVII. THE VOYAGE OF THE _FRAM_
1893–1896
Nansen had not been at home very long before he began making
preparations for a second voyage to the icy North. This time he meant
to find the North Pole if possible.
Nansen believed the theory that a current in the Arctic ocean passes
over the pole. His plan was to work his way through the ice to the
New Siberia islands, and then allow his vessel to be frozen in the
ice pack. He believed that the vessel would be carried with the drift
across the pole, to the east coast of Greenland. It was a daring plan,
but the people of Norway now believed in Nansen and were willing to
assist him. They gave him an amount equal to $75,600 of our money, so
that he was able to equip his expedition.
First of all he had a vessel built which would resist ice pressures.
The hull was shaped so that the pressure would raise the vessel up on
the ice, instead of crushing her. This vessel was called the _Fram_, a
Norwegian word which means “onward.” Nansen chose his crew, all natives
of Norway, and made the necessary preparations for the voyage. Enough
provisions were put on board to last five years. Sverdrup, who had been
so brave and helpful during the trip across Greenland, was chosen to
command the _Fram_.
At last everything was ready, and the day of departure arrived. The
_Fram_ was lying in Christiania harbor when Nansen boarded her (1893).
While they were still sailing along the coast of Norway, a severe storm
arose. The sea broke over the rails of the vessel, and for a while
Nansen feared that the deck cargo would be carried overboard, and that
the _Fram_ would meet with disaster before she reached the ice. But the
storm cleared, the sun shone again, and the men had a last glimpse of
their native land.
[Illustration: THE LAUNCHING OF THE “FRAM.”]
Then a dense fog surrounded the vessel, and she headed for the dreaded
Kara sea. The Kara sea was filled with ice, but the _Fram_ behaved
admirably. Nansen said that it was a pleasure to take her into
difficult ice, because she was so strong, and that she turned and
twisted as easily as a ball on a plate.
The _Fram_ proceeded along the bleak Siberian coast. One morning a
herd of walruses came in sight. Nansen and two companions jumped into
a boat and went after them. One of the men threw a harpoon at the
nearest walrus, but did not hit him. This proceeding so startled the
other walruses that they plunged into the water, but not before Nansen
had shot two of them. They rose again around the boat, bellowing and
roaring, and lashing the sea into a foam. It seemed likely that the
powerful animals would overturn the boat or pierce it with their tusks.
But no accident happened, and Nansen secured several walruses, which
served as food for the crew.
[Illustration: BOAT ATTACKED BY WALRUS.]
By September 25, 1893, they had reached the New Siberia islands, where
the _Fram_ was unable to push her way farther, and was soon frozen in
the pack. Now there was nothing to do but to wait. At first the time
passed pleasantly enough. The men amused themselves by playing games,
caring for the dogs, taking observations, and making various kinds of
tools; but soon they had to bestir themselves, for on October 5, the
first severe ice pressure took place.
Nansen was in the cabin chatting with his companions, when they heard
a terrific noise and felt the ship tremble from bow to stern. Every
one rushed to the deck to see how the _Fram_ would conduct herself.
The noise steadily increased, and the ice cracked on every side. The
sea tossed the floes, which were from ten to fifteen feet thick, one
upon another, until immense piles of ice were heaped around. The _Fram_
quivered all over and then was lifted gently up. After a few moments
the uproar had ceased, and the ship sank slowly down again into her old
position. Nansen was delighted, because the _Fram_ had behaved during
the nip just as he had hoped. Had she not risen and pushed the floes
down beneath her, she would have been crushed among them.
The autumn passed away pleasantly. Polar bears were numerous, and the
men enjoyed the sport of hunting them. When Christmas (1893) came,
the day was celebrated by a very good dinner. The men made speeches
and gave one another Christmas gifts. They did not dream that another
Christmas would find them still drifting, with the knowledge that
little headway had been made.
At last Nansen made up his mind to leave the ship and journey by sledge
with one of his companions toward the North Pole. All the crew set to
work to prepare for this dangerous trip. The dogs were exercised and
trained, sledges and kayaks were built, and provisions weighed out and
packed. The weather was bitterly cold, the wind blew fiercely, and ice
pressures were increasing in number and severity.
On January 3, 1895, the _Fram_ encountered the most severe pressure
which she had to meet. The accumulated floes formed a ridge of ice
which reached to the ship and was level with the rails. Masses of ice
dashed over the decks, and the crashing and grinding were terrible to
hear.
Nansen feared that the ship would be crushed, and orders were given to
put everything in a place of safety. But the stanch vessel held her
own, and came out of the pressure safely. When the danger was over, the
_Fram_ was found to be uninjured, but one of her sides was buried in
the ice mound, which reached six feet above the rails.
About two months later, Nansen set out upon his daring trip toward the
pole. He took Johansen with him, and left the _Fram_, then in latitude
84° north, in command of Otto Sverdrup. The journey northward had to
be made over difficult ice filled with hummocks, and, worse than this,
a southerly drift set in, which carried the whole pack south almost as
fast as they traveled north. Many of the dogs became utterly exhausted
and had to be killed. It made Nansen very sad to be obliged to part
with the faithful animals who had helped him so much.
[Illustration: NANSEN AND JOHANSEN LEAVING THE “FRAM.”]
At night Nansen and Johansen were so tired that they often fell asleep
while eating their supper. When they crept into their sleeping bags,
their clothes were sometimes frozen stiff, but the heat of their bodies
in their bags thawed them out.
Notwithstanding all these hardships, Nansen and his companion succeeded
in reaching 86° 14ʹ north latitude on April 8, 1895. This was the
highest latitude so far reached by any explorer. The North Pole was but
two hundred and sixty-one miles farther north. Nansen knew he could
not reach the pole through such masses of floes and hummocks, and
accordingly he decided to return, changing his course to the south.
The travelers found many channels between the ice floes, which were
difficult to cross. The dogs were now so few in number that the men had
to do dogs’ work, and drag the sledges. The ice became soft, so that
the ski and the sledges sank deep into it. Sometimes the men sank in up
to their armpits.
Nansen’s report of this journey has led many people to believe that
the warm and the cold ocean currents meet at the pole, and that the
effect of the united currents is to make the ice rotten and dangerous
for travel. Some explorers believe that it is impossible to travel the
last hundred miles of the journey toward the pole by sledge or boat.
They think that the ice is too soft for sledge travel, and too compact
for travel by boat. If this be true, a balloon or airship will have to
be used in order to reach the pole. It is no wonder that Nansen and
Johansen became discouraged.