of flesh and blood —­ his pronounced individuality.  There were about a hundred dogs on board the Fram.  Gradually, as we got to know each one of them by daily intercourse, they each revealed some characteristic trait, some peculiarity.  Hardly two of them were alike, either in disposition or in appearance.  To an observant eye there was here ample opportunity for the most amusing exercise.  If now and then one grew a little tired of one’s fellow-men —­ which, I must admit, seldom happened —­ there was, as a rule, diversion to be found in the society of the animals.  I say, as a rule; there were, of course, exceptions.  It was not an unmixed pleasure having the whole deck full of dogs for all those months; our patience was severely tested many a time.  But in spite of all the trouble and inconvenience to which the transport of the dogs necessarily gave rise, I am certainly right in saying that these months of sea voyage would have seemed far more monotonous and tedious if we had been without our passengers.

During the first four or five days we had now been making our way towards the Straits of Dover, and the hope began to dawn within us that this time, as last, we should slip through without any great difficulty.  There had been five days of absolute calm; why should it not last out the week?  But it did not.  As we passed the lightship at the western end of the Goodwins the fine weather left us, and in its place came the south-west wind with rain, fog, and foul weather in its train.  In the course of half an hour it became so thick that it was impossible to see more than two or three ship’s lengths ahead; but if we could see nothing, we heard all the more.  The ceaseless shrieks of many steam-whistles and sirens told us only too plainly what a crowd of vessels we were in.  It was not exactly a pleasant situation; our excellent ship had many good points, but they did not prevent her being extraordinarily slow and awkward in turning.  This is an element of great danger in these waters.  It must be remembered that a possible accident —­ whether our own fault or not —­ would to us be absolutely fatal.  We had so little time to spare that the resulting delay might ruin the whole enterprise.  An ordinary trading vessel can take the risk; by careful manoeuvring a skipper can almost always keep out of the way.  Collisions are, as a rule, the result of rashness or carelessness on one side or the other.  The rash one has to pay; the careful one may perhaps make money out of it.  Carefulness on our part was a matter of course; it would have been a poor consolation to us if another ship had had to pay for her carelessness.  We could not take that risk; therefore, little as we liked doing so, we put into the Downs and anchored there.

Right opposite to us we had the town of Deal, then in the height of its season.  The only amusement we had was to observe all these apparently unconcerned people, who passed their time in bathing, or walking about the white, inviting sands.  They had no need to worry themselves much about what quarter the wind blew from.  Our only wish was that it would veer, or in any case drop.  Our communication with the land was limited to sending ashore telegrams and letters for home.