Meeting with Jackson.--Return to Norway on the Windward.--Fram
Returns to Norway.--Royal Welcome Home.
It was June 17, Henrik Wergeland's [41] birthday. Nansen had been
down to the edge of the ice to fetch some salt water, and had got up
on a hummock in order to have a good look about. A brisk breeze was
blowing off land, bearing with it the confused sound of bird-cries
from the distant rocks. As he stood listening to these sounds of life
in that wild desert, which he thought no human eye had ever seen,
or human foot trodden before, a noise like the bark of a dog fell on
his ear. He started with amazement.
Could there be dogs here? Impossible! He must have been mistaken. It
must have been the bird-cries! But no--there it was again! First a
single bark, then the full cry of a whole pack. There was a deep bark,
succeeded by a sharper one. There could be no doubt about it! Then he
remembered that only the day before he had heard a couple of reports
resembling gunshots, but had thought it was only the ice splitting
and cracking. He now called to Johansen, who was in the tent.
"I can hear dogs over yonder!" he said.
Johansen, who was lying asleep, jumped up and bundled out of the
tent. "Dogs?" No! he could not take that in; but all the same went up
and stood beside Nansen to listen. "It must be your imagination!" he
said. He certainly had on one or two occasions, he said, heard
sounds like the barking of a dog, but they had been so drowned in the
bird-cries that he did not think much of it. To which Nansen replied
that he might think what he liked, but that for his part he intended
to set out as soon as they had had breakfast.
So it was arranged that Johansen should stay there to see to the
kayaks, while Nansen set out on this expedition.
Before finally starting, Nansen once more got up on the hummock and
listened, but could hear nothing. However, off he started, though he
felt some doubts in his own mind. What if it were a delusion after all?
After proceeding some distance he came on the tracks of an animal. They
were too large to be those of a fox, and too small for a wolf. They
must be dog tracks, then! A distant bark at that moment fell on
his ear, more distinct than ever, and off he set at full speed in
the direction of the sound, so that the snow dust whirled up in
clouds behind him, every nerve and muscle of his body quivering
with excitement. He passed a great many tracks, with foxes' tracks
interspersed among them. A long time now elapsed during which he
could hear nothing, as he went zigzagging in among the hummocks, and
his heart began to sink at every step he took. Suddenly, however, he
thought he could hear the sound of a human voice--a strange voice--the
first for three years! His heart beat, the blood flew to his brain,
and springing up on the top of a hummock, he hallooed with all the
strength of his lungs. Behind that human voice in the midst of this
desert of ice stood home, and she who was waiting there!
An answering shout came back far, far off, dying away in the
distance, and before long he discerned some dark form among the
hummocks farther ahead. It was a dog! But behind it another form was
visible--a man's form!
Nansen remained where he was, rooted to the spot, straining eyes and
ears as the form gradually drew near, and then set off once more to
meet it, as if it were a matter of life and death.
They approached each other. Nansen waved his hat; the stranger did
the same.
They met.
That stranger was the English arctic traveller, Mr. Jackson.
They shook hands; and Jackson said,--
"I am delighted to meet you!"
N. "Thanks; so am I."
J. "Is your ship here?"
N. "No."
J. "How many are you?"
N. "I have a companion out yonder by the edge of the ice."
As they walked along together, Jackson, who had been eyeing Nansen
all the while intently, all at once halted, and staring his companion
full in the face said,--
"Are not you Nansen?"
"Yes, I am."
"By Jove! I am glad to meet you!"
And he shook Nansen by the hand so heartily as well nigh to dislocate
his wrist, his dark eyes beaming with delight. Endless questions and
answers took place between them till they reached Jackson's camp,
where some of the men were at once despatched to fetch Johansen.
Life with Jackson was for our two northmen a life of uninterrupted
comfort and delight. First of all they were photographed in their
"wild man's attire;" then they washed, put on fresh clothes, had their
hair cut, enjoyed the luxury of a shave; undergoing all the changes
from savage to civilized life--changes that to them were inexpressibly
delightful. Once more they ate civilized food, lay in civilized beds,
read books, newspapers, smoked, drank. What a change after fifteen
months of Esquimau fare of blubber and bears' flesh! And yet during
all that time they had experienced scarcely a single day's illness.
Jackson's ship, the Windward, was expected to arrive shortly, and it
was arranged that Nansen and Johansen should embark on her for Norway.
But our two travellers had to wait a longer time than they anticipated,
for it was not till July 26 that the Windward arrived. On Aug. 7,
however, they went on board the ship, and steered with a favorable
wind for Vardoe, where they arrived early in the morning of Aug. 13.
The pilot who came on board did not know Nansen; but when the captain
mentioned his name, his old weather-beaten face brightened up, and
assumed an appearance of mingled joy and petrified amazement.
Seizing Nansen by the hand, he bade him a thousand
welcomes. "Everybody," he said, "had thought him long dead, as nothing
had been heard of the Fram."
Nansen assured him he felt no doubt of the safety of the ship, and that
he placed as much confidence in the Fram as he did in himself. Otto
Sverdrup was in command, and they would soon hear tidings of her.
No sooner had the Windward anchored in Vardoe harbor than Nansen and
Johansen rowed ashore, and at once repaired to the telegraph office. No
one knew them as they entered it. Nansen, thereon, threw down a bundle
of telegrams--several hundred in number--on the counter, and begged
they might be despatched without delay. The telegraph official eyed
the visitors rather curiously as he took up the bundle. When his eye
lighted on the word "Nansen," which was on the one lying uppermost,
he changed color, and took the messages to the lady at the desk,
returning at once, his face beaming with delight, and bade him
welcome. "The telegrams should be despatched as quickly as possible,
but it would take several days to send them all." A minute later
the telegraph apparatus began to tick from Vardoe, and thence round
the whole world, the announcement of the successful issue of the
expedition to the North Pole; and in a few hours' time Nansen's name
was on the lips of a hundred millions of people, whose hearts glowed
at the thought of his marvellous achievement.
But away yonder in Svartebugta there sat a woman, who would not on that
day have exchanged the anguish she had undergone, and the sacrifices
she had made, for all the kingdoms of the world.
By an extraordinary coincidence, Nansen met his friend Professor Mohn
in Vardoe--the man who had all along placed implicit reliance on his
theory. On seeing him Mohn burst into tears, as he said, "Thank God,
you are alive."
By another equally extraordinary coincidence, Nansen met his English
friend and patron, Sir George Baden Powell, in Hammerfest, on his
yacht the Ontario, which he placed at Nansen's disposal, an offer
which was gratefully accepted. Sir Baden Powell had been very anxious
about Nansen, and was, in fact, on the point of setting out on an
expedition to search for him, when he thus met him.
That same evening Nansen's wife and his secretary, Christophersen,
arrived in Hammerfest, and the whole place was en fete to celebrate
the event. Telegrams kept pouring in from all quarters of the globe,
and invitations from every town on the coast of Norway to visit them
en route.
But the Fram? The only dark spot amid all their joy was that no tidings
had been heard of her; and in the homes of those brave fellows left
behind there was sadness and anxiety. Even Nansen himself, who had
felt so sure that all was well with her, began to feel anxious.
One morning, it was Aug. 20, Nansen was awakened by Sir Baden Powell
knocking at his door with the announcement that there was a man
outside who wanted to speak to him.
Nansen replied that he was not dressed, but would come presently.
"Come just as you are," answered Sir Baden.
Who could it be?
Hurriedly putting on his clothes, Nansen went down into the saloon. A
man was standing there, a telegram in his hand; it was the director
of the telegraph office.
He had a telegram, he said, which he thought would interest him,
and had brought it himself.
Interest him! There was only one thing in the world that could interest
Nansen now, and that was the Fram's fate.
With trembling fingers he tore open the paper, and read,--
Fram arrived in good condition. All well on board. Am
going to Tromsoe. Welcome home.
O. S.
Nansen felt as if he must fall on the floor; and all he could do was
to stammer out, "Fram--arrived!"
Sir Baden Powell, who was standing beside him, shouted aloud with
joy, while Johansen's face beamed like the sun, and Christophersen
kept walking to and fro; and to complete the tableau, the telegraph
director stood between them all, thoroughly enjoying the scene,
as he looked from one to the other of the party.
All Hammerfest was en fete, and universal joy was felt the whole world
through, when the tidings of the Fram's home-coming were made known.
The great work was ended--ended in the happiest manner, without the
loss of a single human life! The whole thing sounded indeed like a
miracle. And a miracle the Nansen lads thought it to be when they met
Nansen and Johansen in Tromsoe; and when all the brave participators
in the expedition were once more assembled, theirs was a joy so
overwhelming that words fail to describe it.
Yes, the great work was ended!
The voyage along the coast began in sunshine and fete. At last,
on Sept. 9, the Fram steamed up the Christiania Fjord, which
literally teemed with vessels and boats of all sorts, sizes, and
descriptions. It was as if some old viking had returned home from
a successful enterprise abroad. The ships of war fired salutes, the
guns of the fortress thundered out their welcome; while the hurrahs
and shouts of thousands rent the air, flags and handkerchiefs waving
in a flood of joyful acclamation!
But when with bared head Nansen set foot on land, and the grand
old hymn--
"VOR GUD HAN ER SAA FAST EN BORG" [42]
was sung in one mighty chorus by the assembled multitude, thousands
and thousands of men and women felt that the love of their fatherland
had grown in their hearts during those three long years,--from the
time when this man had set out to the icy deserts of the north, to
the moment when he once more planted his foot on his native soil,--a
feeling which the whole country shared with them.
To the youth of Norway Fridtjof Nansen's character and achievements
stand out as a bright model, a glorious pattern for imitation. For
he it is that has recalled to life the hero-life of the saga times
among us; he it is that has shown our youth the road to manhood.
That is his greatest achievement!
NOTES
[1] Frognersaeteren, a forest-covered hill about six miles from
Christiania. Nordmarken, an extensive woodland stretching for miles
and miles to the north of Christiania.
[2] Statholder, vice-regent. In the early days of the union with Sweden
the king had the right of appointing a vice-regent for Norway. The
last time the king made use of this prerogative was in 1844, and the
right was abrogated in 1872.
[3] Foss, waterfall.
[4] Ski, Norwegian snowshoes; pronounced shee.
[5] Huseby, a farm near Christiania, where the annual ski-match was
formerly held.
[6] Middle school examination, passed on graduating from the grammar
school to the high school.
[7] Examen artium, the entrance examination to the university. For real
artium the chief topics of examination are sciences, mathematics, and
the English language. The best mark in any subject is 1 (excellent),
the poorest 6 (bad).
[8] P. C. Asbjoernsen (pron. Asbyurnsen) together with Joergen
(pron. Yurgen) Moe collected the popular and fairy tales of Norway.
[9] Soerkedal, a valley about eight miles to the north of Christiania.
[10] Bogstad, a baronial manor about five miles north of Christiania.
[11] Jotunheim, the giant's world, a group of mountains in the centre
of southern Norway.
[12] Second examination, graduating as a bachelor of arts.
[13] Bergen, the metropolis of western Norway, the second largest
city in Norway.
[14] Voss, a country district of western Norway, connected with Bergen
by railway. Stalheim road, a piece of road winding in a slow decline
down a steep hill, famous for the beauty of its scenery and the
engineering skill with which it has been built. Naeroedal and Lerdals
river must be passed on the way from Bergen to Christiania.
[15] Fjeld (pron. fyell), mountain.
[16] Myrstoelen, the last house on the eastern side of the mountain
inhabited the whole year through.
[17] Aurland and Vosse skavlen, alternative routes across the mountains
from Christiania to Bergen.
[18] Saeter, mountain hut, used by graziers during the summer months.
[19] Skaal, your health.
[20] King Sverre, King of Norway 1177 to 1202.
[21] An institution where animal life is studied.
[22] Nordenskjoeld (pron. Nordenshuld), famous Swedish explorer,
discoverer of the North-east Passage.
[23] Wille, another Norwegian, who at that time was professor at the
High School in Stockholm.
[24] Blaamand (pron. Blohmann).
[25] One krone (crown) equals twenty-seven cents.
[26] Storthing, the legislative assembly (congress) of Norway.
[27] Folgefond, Jostedalsbrae, Svartisen, glaciers in Norway.
[28] Karasjok (pron. Karashok), one of the northernmost districts of
Norway, chiefly inhabited by Lapps.
[29] Qvaen, the Norwegian name for a man of the race inhabiting the
grand duchy of Finland. The Lapps are in Norway called Finns.
[30] Kayak, small and light boat, chiefly made of sealskin, used by
the natives of Greenland.
[31] Peaks of rock projecting above the surface of the ice.
[32] Godthaab (pron. Gott-hob), the only city, and seat of the Danish
governor, on the west coast of Greenland.
[33] Hvidbjoern (pron. Vid-byurn), The White Bear, a trading-vessel.
[34] Kroederen, a lake about forty miles to the northwest of
Christiania. Norefjeld, a mountain on the west side of the
lake. Olberg, a farmhouse at the foot of the mountain.
[35] Lysaker, a railroad station about four miles west of Christiania.
[36] Fram means onward.
[37] Dyna, an islet with a lighthouse in Christiania harbor.
[38] Cape Lindesnaes, the southernmost point of Norway.
[39] Beian (pron. By-an), a village and stopping-place for the
coast-wise steamers in northern Norway, near Trondhjem.
[40] Tromsoe, the chief city and bishop's see of the bishopric of same
name, the northernmost diocese in Norway.
[41] Henrik Wergeland, Norwegian poet and patriot, born 1808,
died 1845.
[42] "A mighty fortress is our God."