up —­ not grasping what was happening.  Then there was a hearty welcome home on all sides “Where’s the Fram?” was of course our first question Our joy was great when we heard all was well.  “And what about the Pole?  Have you been there?” —­ “Yes, of course; otherwise you would hardly have seen us again.”  Then the coffee kettle was put on, and the perfume of “hot cakes” rose as in old days.  We agreed that it was good outside, but still better at home.  Ninety-nine days the trip had taken.  Distance about 1,860 miles.

The Franz had come in to the Barrier on January 8, after a three months’ voyage from Buenos Aires; all were well on board.  Meanwhile, bad weather had forced her to put out again.  On the following day the lookout man reported that the Fram was approaching There was life in the camp; on with furs and out with the dogs.  They should see that our dogs were not worn out yet.  We heard the engine panting and grunting, saw the crow’s-nest appear over the edge of the Barrier, and at last she glided in, sure and steady.  It was with a joyful heart I went on board and greeted all these gallant men, who had brought the Franz to her destination through so many fatigues and perils, and had accomplished so much excellent work on the way.  They all looked pleased and happy, but nobody asked about the Pole.  At last it slipped out of Gjertsen:  “Have you been there?” Joy is a poor name for the feeling that beamed in my comrades’ faces; it was something more.

I shut myself up in the chart-house with Captain Nilsen, who gave me my mail and all the news.  Three names stood high above the rest, when I was able to understand all that had happened —­ the names of the three who gave me their support when it was most needed.  I shall always remember them in respectful gratitude —­

H. M. The King, Professor Fridtjof Nansen, Don Pedro Christophersen.

CHAPTER XIV

Northward

After two days of bustle in getting on board the things we were to take with us, we managed to be ready for sea on the afternoon of January 30.  There could scarcely have been anything at that moment that rejoiced us more than just that fact, that we were able at so early a date to set our course northward and thus take the first step on the way to that world which, as we knew, would soon begin to expect news from us, or of us.  And yet, I wonder whether there was not a little feeling of melancholy in the midst of all our joy?  It can hardly be doubted that such was really the case, although to many this may seem a flat contradiction.  But it is not altogether so easy to part from a place that has been one’s home for any length of time, even though this home lie in the 79th degree of latitude, more or less buried in snow and ice.  We human beings are far too dependent on habit to be able to tear ourselves abruptly from the surroundings with which we have been obliged to be familiar for many months.  That outsiders