This gave occasion for much joking and fun, and, amid laughter and chat, the first meal of the day was taken.  In after-dinner speeches, amid toasts and enthusiasm, our Polar explorers are often compared with our forefathers, the bold vikings.  This comparison never occurred to me for a moment when I saw this assemblage of ordinary, everyday men-brushing their teeth.  But now that they were busy with the dishes, I was bound to acknowledge its aptitude; for our forefathers the vikings could not possibly have attacked their food with greater energy than these nine men did.

One pile of “hot-chek” after another disappeared as if they had been made of air —­ and I, in my simplicity, had imagined that one of them was a man’s ration!  Spread with butter and surmounted with jam, these cakes slipped down with fabulous rapidity.  With a smile I thought of the conjurer, holding an egg in his hand one minute and making it disappear the next.  If it is a cook’s best reward to see his food appreciated, then, indeed, Lindstrom had good wages.  The cakes were washed down with big bowls of strong, aromatic coffee.  One could soon trace the effect, and conversation became general.  The first great subject was a novel, which was obviously very popular, and was called “The Rome Express.”  It appeared to me, from what was said —­ I have unfortunately never read this celebrated work —­ that a murder had been committed in this train, and a lively discussion arose as to who had committed it.  I believe the general verdict was one of suicide.  I have always supposed that subjects of conversation must be very difficult to find on expeditions like these, where the same people mix day after day for years; but there was certainly no sign of any such difficulty here.  No sooner had the express vanished in the distance than in steamed —­ the language question.  And it came at full steam, too.  It was clear that there were adherents of both camps present.  For fear of hurting the feelings of either party, I shall abstain from setting down what I heard:  but I may say as much as this —­ that the party of reform ended by declaring the maal[6] to be the only proper speech of Norway, while their opponents maintained the same of their language.

After a while pipes came out, and the scent of “plug” soon struggled with the fresh air for supremacy.  Over the tobacco the work for the day was discussed.  “Well, I’ll have enough to do supplying that woodswallower over the holiday,” said Hassel.  I gave a chuckle.  If Hassel had known of the way the paraffin was used that morning, he would have added something about the “oil-drinker,” I expect.  It was now half-past eight, and Stubberud and Bjaaland got up.  From the number of different garments they took out and put on, I guessed they were going out.  Without saying anything, they trudged out.  Meanwhile the others continued their morning smoke, and some even began to read, but by about nine they were all on the move.  They put