know,” said I, “and be so kind as to give me a cup of water with a little syrup in it if you can.”  I thought somehow that the cook had a sly grin on his face when he brought what I asked for, but with the thirst I had after the stiff march, I gave a great part of my attention to the drink.  I had consumed the best part of a quart, when Lindstrom went off to his bunk and asked if I could guess what he had hidden there.  There was no time to guess anything before the blankets were thrown on to the floor, and after them bounded a bearded ruffian clad in a jersey and a pair of overalls of indeterminable age and colour.  “Hullo!” said the ruffian, and the voice was that of Lieutenant Gjertsen.  Lindstrom was shaking with laughter while I stood open-mouthed before this apparition; I had been given a good surprise.  We agreed to treat Johansen and Stubberud in the same way, and as soon as they were heard outside, Gjertsen hid himself again among the blankets.  But Stubberud had smelt a rat in some way or other.  “There are more than two in this room,” he said, as soon as he came in.  It was no surprise to him to find a man from the Fram in Lindstrom’s bunk.

When we heard that the visitor had been under our roof for a whole day, we assumed that in the course of that time he had heard all about our own concerns from Lindstrom.  We were therefore not inclined to talk about ourselves; we wanted news from without, and Gjertsen was more than ready to give us them.  The Fram had arrived two days before, all well.  After lying at the ice edge for a day and a night, keeping a constant lookout for the “natives,” Gjertsen had grown so curious to know how things were at Framheim that he had asked Captain Nilsen for “shore leave.”  The careful skipper had hesitated a while before giving permission; it was a long way up to the house, and the sea-ice was scored with lanes, some of them fairly wide.  Finally Gjertsen had his way, and he left the ship, taking a signal flag with him.  He found it rather difficult to recognize his surroundings, to begin with; one ice cape was very like another, and ugly ideas of calvings suggested themselves, until at last he caught sight of Cape Man’s Head, and then he knew that the foundations of Framheim had not given way.  Cheered by this knowledge, he made his way towards Mount Nelson, but on arriving at the top of this ridge, from which there was a view over Framheim, the eager explorer felt his heart sink.  Where our new house had made such a brave show a year before on the surface of the Barrier, there was now no house at all to be seen.  All that met the eyes of the visitor was a sombre pile of ruins.  But his anxiety quickly vanished when a man emerged from the confusion.  The man was Lindstrom, and the supposed ruin was the most ingenious of all winter-quarters.  Lindstrom was ignorant of the Fram’s arrival, and the face he showed on seeing Gjertsen must have been worth some money to look at.

When our first curiosity was satisfied, our thoughts turned to our comrades on board the Fram.  We snatched some food, and then went down to the sea-ice, making our way across the little bay due north of the house.  Our well-trained team were not long in getting there, but we had some trouble with them in crossing the cracks in the ice, as some of the dogs, especially the puppies, had a terror of water.