“We’ll see about that!” I turned
round, and there was Stubberud leaning against the
end of the table, evidently hurt by Hanssen’s
words, which he took as a personal affront. “If
you dare risk your whip, come on.” He had
taken down one of the insulted triple-handled whips
from the shelf in his bunk, and stood in a fighting
attitude. This promised well. We all looked
at Hanssen. He had gone too far to be able to
draw back; he had to fight. He took his weapon
in his hand, and entered the “ring.”
The conditions were arranged and accepted by both parties;
they were to fight until one of the handles was broken.
And then the whip duel began. The opponents were
very serious over it. One, two, three —
the first blow fell, handle against handle. The
combatants had shut their eyes and awaited the result;
when they opened them again, they shone with happy
surprise — both handles were as whole as
before. Now each of them was really delighted
with his own handle, and the blows fell faster.
Stubberud, who was standing with his back to the table,
got so excited over the unexpected result that, every
time he raised his weapon, he gave the edge of the
table a resounding smack without knowing it.
How many rounds had been fought I do not know, when
I heard a crack, followed by the words: “There
you can see, old man!” As Stubberud left the
ring, I was able to see Hanssen. He stood on
the battle-field, eyeing his whip; it looked like
a broken lily. The spectators had not been silent;
they had followed the fight with excitement, amid
laughter and shouts. “That’s right,
Stubberud. Don’t give in!” “Bravo,
Hanssen! that’s a good one!”
The whips afterwards turned out remarkably well —
not that they lasted out the trip, but they held together
for a long while. Whip-handles are a very perishable
commodity; if one used nothing but the lash, they
would be everlasting, but, as a rule, one is not long
satisfied with that. It is when one gives a “confirmation,”
as we call it, that the handle breaks. A confirmation
is generally held when some sinner or other has gone
wrong and refuses to obey. It consists in taking
the first opportunity, when the sledge stops, of going
in among the dogs, taking out the defiant one, and
laying into him with the handle. These confirmations,
if they occur frequently, may use up a lot of handles.
It was also arranged that Hanssen should prepare goggles
in the Eskimo fashion, and he began this work; but
it soon appeared that everyone had some patent of
his own which was much better. Therefore it was
given up, and every man made his own goggles.
Stubberud’s chief work was making the sledge
cases lighter, and he succeeded in doing this, but
not without hard work. It took far longer than
one would have thought. The wood had a good many
knots, and he often had to work against the grain;
the planing was therefore rather difficult and slow.
He planed a good deal off them, but could “guarantee
them,” as he said. Their sides were not
many millimetres thick; to strengthen them in the
joints, corners of aluminium were put on.