the female sex.  There was no peace for us even on the Barrier.  What happened was that the entire feminine population —­ eleven in number —­ had thought fit to appear in a condition usually considered “interesting,” but which, under the circumstances, we by no means regarded in that light.  Our hands were indeed full enough without this.  What was to be done?  Great deliberation.  Eleven maternity hospitals seemed rather a large order, but we knew by experience that they all required first aid.  If we left several of them in the same place there would be a terrible scene, and it would end in their eating up each other’s pups.  For what had happened only a few days before?  Kaisa, a big black-and-white bitch, had taken a three-months-old pup when no one was looking, and made a meal off it.  When we arrived we saw the tip of its tail disappearing, so there was not much to be done.  Now, it fortunately happened that one of the dog-tents became vacant, as Prestrud’s team was divided among the other tents; as “forerunner,” he had no use for dogs.  Here, with a little contrivance, we could get two of them disposed of; a dividing wall could be put up.  When first laying out the station, we had taken this side of life into consideration, and a “hospital” in the shape of a sixteen-man tent had been erected; but this was not nearly enough.  We then had recourse to the material of which there is such superabundance in these parts of the earth-snow.  We erected a splendid big snow-hut.  Besides this, Lindstrom in his leisure hours had erected a little building, which was ready when we returned from the second depot journey.  We had none of us asked what it was for, but now we knew Lindstrom’s kind heart.  With these arrangements at our disposal we were able to face the winter.

Camilla, the sly old fox, had taken things in time; she knew what it meant to bring up children in the dark, and, in truth, it was no pleasure.  She had therefore made haste, and was ready as soon as the original “hospital” was prepared.  She could now look forward to the future with calmness in the last rays of the disappearing sun; when darkness set in, her young ones would be able to look after themselves.  Camilla, by the way, had her own views of bringing up her children.  What there was about the hospital that she did not like I do not know, but it is certain that she preferred any other place.  It was no rare thing to come across Camilla in a tearing gale and a temperature twenty below zero with one of her offspring in her mouth.  She was going out to look for a new place.  Meanwhile, the three others, who had to wait, were shrieking and howling.  The places she chose were not, as a rule, such as we should connect with the idea of comfort; a case, for instance, standing on its side, and fully exposed to the wind, or behind a stack of planks, with a draught coming through that would have done credit to a factory chimney.  But if she liked it, there was nothing to be said.  If the family were left alone in such a place, she would spend some days there before moving on again.  She never returned to the hospital voluntarily, but it was not a rare thing to see Johansen, who was guardian to the family, hauling off the lady and as many of her little ones as he could get hold of in a hurry.  They then disappeared into the hospital with words of encouragement.