For each of our ten sledges, Bjaaland made during the voyage a pair of loose runners, which it was intended to use in the same way as the Eskimo use theirs.  These primitive people have —­ or, at all events, had —­ no material that was suited for shoeing sledge-runners.  They get over the difficulty by covering the runners with a coating of ice.  No doubt it requires a great deal of practice and patience to put on this kind of shoeing properly, but when it is once on there can be no question that this device throws all others into the shade.  As I say, we had intended to try this on the Barrier; we found, however, that the pulling power of our teams was so good as to allow us to retain our steel-shod runners with an easy conscience.

For the first fourteen days after leaving Madeira the north-east trade was fresh enough to enable us to keep up our average rate, or a little more, with the help of the sails alone.  The engine was therefore allowed a rest, and the engineers had an opportunity of cleaning and polishing it; this they did early and late, till it seemed as if they could never get it bright enough.  Nodtvedt now had a chance of devoting himself to the occupation which is his delight in this world —­ that of the blacksmith; and, indeed, there was opportunity enough for his use of the hammer and anvil.  If Ronne had plenty of sewing, Nodtvedt had no less forging —­ sledge-fittings, knives, pickaxes, bars and bolts, patent hooks by the hundred for dogs, chains, and so on to infinity.  The clang and sparks of the anvil were going all day long till we were well into the Indian Ocean.  And in the westerly belt the blacksmith’s lot was not an enviable one; it is not always easy to hit the nail on the head when one’s feet rest on so unstable a foundation as the Fram’s deck, nor is it altogether pleasant when the forge is filled with water several times a day.

While we were fitting out for the voyage, the cry was constantly raised in certain quarters at home that the old Fram’s hull was in a shocking state.  It was said to be in bad repair, to leak like a sieve —­ in fact, to be altogether rotten.  It throws a curious light on these reports when we look at the voyages that the Fram has accomplished in the last two years.  For twenty months out of twenty-four she has kept going in open sea, and that, too, in waters which make very serious demands on a vessel’s strength.  She is just as good as when she sailed, and could easily do it all over again without any repairs.  We who were on board all knew perfectly well before we sailed how groundless and foolish these cries about her “rottenness” were; we knew, too, that there is scarcely a wooden ship afloat on which it is not necessary to use the pumps now and then.  When the engine was stopped, we found it was sufficient to take a ten minutes’ turn at the hand-pump every morning; that was all the “leaking” amounted to.  Oh no! there was nothing wrong with the Fram’s hull.  On the other hand, there might be a word or two to