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 appet.i.te, 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 windla.s.s, 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 pa.s.sage. 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 compa.s.s 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 lat.i.tude--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 lat.i.tude. It might seem ridiculous, under such circ.u.mstances, 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 lat.i.tude.

From July 27th till August 2d it was slow and tiresome work. By August 2d we had not got beyond 81 26' north lat.i.tude. 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 pa.s.s into, thus blocking up the pa.s.sage 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 pa.s.sing 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 pa.s.s 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 ma.s.s 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 impa.s.sable, 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 lat.i.tude, the last lat.i.tude 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 lat.i.tude, 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 compa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed close up on the weather-side of the vessel, and we greeted her in pa.s.sing 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 Sostrene (The Sisters), of Tromso. The first question which was shouted to him as we pa.s.sed 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 Andree, had arrived at Danes Island, intending to proceed thence by balloon to discover the North Pole.

Botolfsen came with us as a pa.s.senger, leaving his vessel in charge of the mate, and accompanied us as far as Tromso. We reshaped our course about noon for Red Bay, intending to steam from there to Danes Island and see Mr. Andree. 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 antic.i.p.ated, right in "Norsksundet"

(Norwegian Sound), and proceeding up, we anch.o.r.ed at 9.30 A.M., off "Hollaendernaeset" (Dutch Cape). The fog was now cleared, and we soon saw the steamship Virgo, of the Andree Expedition, and the balloon-house ash.o.r.e.

Through the telescope we could see that our arrival had been observed, and a steam-launch soon came alongside with Mr. Andree, 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 a.s.sistance, and that as soon as possible.

Our plans were soon laid. We would hurry home to Tromso 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 pa.s.sage 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 Logo, and at 8 P.M. the north point of Loppen. Then we steered into Kvaenangen Fjord, and anch.o.r.ed off Skjaervo 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 ash.o.r.e with me. But as they were too slow with their toilet, I asked Bentzen to put me ash.o.r.e 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 embarra.s.sment.

"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 Tromso, who was there with his whaling-ship. They had brought him with them. They had next visited Andree, 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 Andree, 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 Vardo on August 13th, and is now at Hammerfest. He's probably starting for Tromso 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 st.u.r.dy 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 anch.o.r.ed here, the fragrance of the new-mown hay was wafted to them from the sh.o.r.e, 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 gra.s.s.'

"For the rest, Mother Nature was as smiling and festally arrayed as could be expected so late in the year in these northern lat.i.tudes. 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.